A piece in The Guardian describes a Columbian reception for Gabriel García Márquez for his eightieth birthday. He recounted “how his wife Mercedes had to hock her jewels to pay the rent and put food on the table for their two boys during the 18 months it took him to write what many consider the greatest novel in Spanish since Don Quixote - One Hundred Years of Solitude.”
When the novel was finished they couldn’t find enough cash to send the MS to his editor in Buenos Aires, so they sent half of it instead. When the parcel had gone they discovered they’d sent the second part of the novel instead of the first.
Luckily, the editor “was so eager to read the first half that he forwarded us the money so we could send the rest.”
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Pingback on Apr 4th, 2007 at 6:02 am
[...] I posted a piece which stated that Marquez’s wife, Mercedes, had to hock her jewels to keep the family alive [...]
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Apr 4th, 2007 at 2:37 am
I love that book, haven’t read it in a long time. I should again.
Nice post, funny.
jb says: You know, Jerry, I keep thinking the same thing . . . must read One Hundred Years of Solitude again . . .
Apr 4th, 2007 at 5:25 am
Hah, nice. I’m in the middle of “Love in the Time of Cholera” right now– quite good so far. Oh, and thank you for recommending “Lucy Gault”, John, it was fantastic. Still didn’t make me cry, but nearly…
Another one I read which was great was J.M. Coetzee’s “Disgrace”, which was also very good but did not draw a tear. I think i’m expecting and waiting for it too much. Doh, well…
jb says: You’re gonna need a big handkerchief one of these days, Brendan.