Collected Stories

ISBN: 0060932686
ISBN 13: 9780060932688
By: Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez Gregory Rabassa J.S. Bernstein

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Classics Currently Reading Latin America Latin American Magic Realism Magical Realism Short Stories Short Story Stories To Read

About this book

Collected here are twenty-six of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's most brilliant and enchanting short stories, presented in the chronological order of their publication in Spanish from three volumes: Eyes of a Blue Dog, Big Mama's Funeral, and The Incredible and Sad Tale of lnnocent Eréndira and Her Heartless Grandmother. Combining mysticism, history, and humor, the stories in this collection span more than two decades, illuminating the development of Marquez's prose and exhibiting the themes of family, poverty, and death that resound throughout his fiction."Infinitely compelling....In all these stories, however surreal, there are moments of sudden, unexpected beauty."--Jan Morris, The Independent"Tiny masterpieces....Garcí­a Márquez's wonderful world is joyful."--Alberto Manguel, Globe and Mail

Reader's Thoughts


There are three collections in this book, each with about eight short stories in it. I'm a big fan of García Márquez and enjoyed this book quite a bit. The collections included were Eyes of a Blue Dog, Big Mama's Funeral, and The Incredible and Sad Tale of Innocent Eréndira and Her Heartless Grandmother. I liked a few stories from each section, but really loved the ones from Innocent Eréndira. "The Very Old Man with Enormous Wings" was so unusual, and "The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World" was a lot of fun to read. The title story of Innocent Eréndira was amazing as well. One line really captured what I like about Garía Márquez's writing style "What I like about you," she said, "is the serious way you make up nonsense."


I had such high hopes for this one. Being a person who is fascinated with the dark and the gloomy, I figured from the title of some of these stories, that I was in for a delicious treat. Not so much......I mean, they were okay but I don't like reading things that don't flow. It starts to feel like homework. I asked myself, 'Should I be taking notes? Maybe I should make an outline.....' Why am I not being entertained? It's funny because the premises made for really good ideas for stories but it never really happened. There's a story in here that doesn't have not ONE period for the entire story. Some may call that clever. Come on now..... Overall, one of those books that you need cliff notes and a very knowledgeable English professor on hand to understand.


Apgāda "Atēna" izdoto Gabriela Garsijas Markesa krājumu "Neticamais un skumjais stāsts par tiklo Erēndiru un viņas cietsirdīgo vecmāmiņu" veido septiņi maģiskā reālisma caurstrāvoti stāsti, kuri tapuši sešdesmitajos un septiņdesmitajos gados. Tēli darbojas eksotiskā telpā, tie lidinās starp dabas stihijām tāpat kā starp murgiem un realitāti, piemēram, skumjā Erēndira savas vecmāmiņas cietsirdīgo pavēļu "ieeļļota" savā kustībā bezgalīgos mājas darbus dara miegā. Viņu mājas ir pelnu trauslas. Tāpat arī darbojas slīkoņi, kas tiek izskaloti no okeāna un turpina mirdzēt pēc nāves, būdami vēl dzīvāki nekā jelkad simtgadu tālajā dzīves laikā. Tikmēr kādā citā stāstā lietus var līt tik spēcīgi, ka debesīs kļūst redzamas zivis. Bet ikvienā stāstā jaušama nāves klātbūtne. Nāve ir skaista, ciešanas ir apgarotas. Arī teikumi ir poētiski, reizēm tos varētu salīdzināt ar svelmi. Tie karsē, brīžam lasītājam neļaujot remdēt slāpes. Tie ir biezi kā Dienvidu gaismas. Piemēram, stāsts "Spoku kuģa pēdējais brauciens", gluži asociatīvi saistoties ar Džeimsa Džoisa "Ulisa" Mollijas monologu, ir septiņu lappušu garš teikums. Starp citu kādā citā stāstā darbojas Uliss, kas, nesot šī pasaules apceļotāja vārdu, kļūst vientuļš uz mūžu ar zaļajām nozieguma asinīm uz pirkstiem. Un mīlestība ir nāves cēlonis.

Cecily Erker

This is one of the most difficult things I have ever read; it took me almost a month to get through it. I was at the library trying to find a copy of 100 Years of Solitude but they didn't have one, so I checked out this collection of his early short stories. His earliest writings are sometimes so abstract as to be obnoxious and once he uses the gimmick of writing a short story in one long sentence with hundreds of commas, but it was probably through these writings and his early experimentation with magical realism that he arrived to the economy and power of his later, greater novels. I've only read Love in the Time of Cholera so far, but I definitely saw glimpses of it in his evocations of place and time and the inner lives of his characters. Each story gets progressively better and you get to see the process of almost thirty years of his gradual maturation as a writer. I would not recommend this for beginning readers of Marquez because many of these writings, though beautiful, still evade my comprehension because they're so weird and so outside the norms of time and space and physical reality, but his images and ideas are so thought-provoking that you could spend an eternity puzzling over them.

Alexander Veee

"The angel was the only one who took no part in his own act... His only supernatural virtue seemed to be patience. Especially during the first days, when the hens pecked at him, searching for the stellar parasites that proliferated in his wings, and the cripples pulled out feathers to touch their defective parts with, and even the most merciful threw stones at him, trying to get him to rise so they could see him standing. The only time they succeeded in arousing him was when they burned his side with an iron for branding steers, for he had been motionless for so many hours that they thought he was dead. He awoke with a start, ranting in his hermetic language and with tears in his eyes, and he flapped his wings a couple of times, which brought on a whirlwind of chicken dung and lunar dust and a gale of panic that did not seem to be of this world. Although many thought that his reaction had been one not of rage but of pain, from then on they were careful not to annoy him, because the majority understood that his passivity was not that of a hero taking his ease but that of a cataclysm in repose."


Marquez has a talent for the surreal and this collection of short stories is a fine example. The first half of the collection wander through the completely bizarre landscapes of spirits and ethereal presence, while the second is far more structured and less fantastical.There are a number of wonderful tragedies told in these stories and they are done with a caring and gentle touch. The writing doesn't shock or sensationalise the stories and instead presents them simply, leaving the shock and horror to be something of your own creation and not Marquez's. I must admit that at times I found it difficult to get excited about what I was reading, but I think that's kind of the point anyway. These stories aren't written to be blockbusters... instead they're beautiful portraits resting on the wall... easily ignored if one forgets to look closely.


Overall this was an interesting read especially since I'm a fan of Marquez and relished seeing the evolution of his writing over time. Though Marquez's voice was strong in the early stories, I'm not sure these more abstract attempts at magical realism represent his best work, though I suspect they served as a basis for his future writings and were a necessary step in his development as a writer. As a result, the first several stories weren't what I expected, yet still worth reading if only for the beautiful use of language and imagery. The last half of the book is much more in line with some other works that I've read and enjoyed, including Of Love and Other Demons and Memories of My Melancholy Whores.Some of the best stories in this compilation of short stories included: The Woman Who Came at Six O'Clock, There Are No Thieves in the Town, The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World, Blackman the Good, Vendor of Miracles, and The Incredible and Sad Tale of Innocent Erendira and Her Heartless Grandmother.Marquez is a genius at creating images using unexpected and odd pairings often mixing the senses to give the reader a fresh experience. For example in Night of the Curlews he writes: We caught the smell of sad women sitting and waiting. We felt the prolonged emptiness of the hall before us while we walked toward the door, before the other smell came out to greet us, the sour smell of the woman sitting by the door.From the Monologue of Isabel Watching It Rain in Macondo:At dawn on Thursday the smells stopped, the sense of distance was lost. The notion of time, upset since the day before, disappeared completely. The there was no Thursday. What should have been Thursday was a physical, jellylike thing that could have been parted with the hands in order to look into Friday.A final example from Tuesday Siesta:"God's will is inscrutable," said the Father.But he said it without much conviction, partly because experience had made him a little skeptical and partly because of the heat.Marquez is also a master at describing his characters in a way that makes them come to life on the page and represents the antithesis of cliche.From Balthazar's Marvelous Afternoon:He had two weeks' growth, short, hard and bristly hair like the mane of a mule, and the general expression of a frightened boy. But it was a false impression.AndHe was smoothly and delicately fat, like a woman who had been beautiful in her youth, and he had delicate hands. His voice seemed like that of a priest speaking Latin.From Tuesday Siesta:The woman seemed too old to be her mother, because of the blue veins on her eyelids and her small, soft, and shapeless body, in a dress cut like a cassock. She was riding with her spinal column braced firmly against the back of the seat, and held a peeling patent-leather hand-bag in her lap with both hands. She bore the conscientious serenity of someone accustomed to poverty.Finally and most importantly, his writing is passionate and has a seductive quality. His sex scenes are subtle and soft yet incredibly sexy.From my favorite and last story in the book, The Incredible and Sad Tale of Innocent Erendira: Excerpt contains a spoiler. (view spoiler)[Erendina lay down on the bed but he remained trembling where he was: at the decisive moment his determination had weakened. Erendira took him by the hand to hurry him up and only then did she notice his tribulation. She was familiar with that fear. "Is it the first time?" she asked him.Ulises didn't answer but he smiled in desolation. Erendira became a different person."Breathe slowly," she told him. "That's the way it always is the first time. Afterwards you won't even notice."She laid him down beside here and while she was taking his clothes off she was calming him maternally."What's your name?""Ulises.""That's a gringo name," Erendira said."No, a sailor name."Erendira uncovered his chest, gave a few little orphan kisses and sniffed him."It's like you were made of gold all over, " she said, "But you smell of flowers.""It must be the oranges," Ulises said.Calmer now, he gave a smile of complicity."We carry a lot of birds along to throw people off track," he added, "but what we're doing is smuggling a load of oranges across the border.""Oranges aren't contraband," Erendira said."These are," said Ulises. "Each one is worth fifty thousand pesos."Erendira laughed for the first time in a long while."What I like about you," she said, "is the serious way you make up nonsense."She had become spontaneous and talkative again, as if Ulises' innocence had changed not only her mood but her character. The Grandmother, such a short distance away from misfortune, was still talking in her sleep.She ranted on with great shouts and with a stubborn passion for several hours. But Ulises couldn't hear her because Erendira had loved him so much and so truthfully that she loved him again for half price while her grandmother was raving and kept on loving him for nothing until dawn. 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Luis Bañuelos

La pura longitud de este libro hace difícil dar una calificación o reseña coherente. Ahora agrégale lo variado, en todo sentido, que tiene y se complica aún más. Originalmente iba a darle cinco estrellas, porque, como dice Goodreads, fue asombroso. Pero en honor a unas cuantas piezas mediocres al final, se va con cuatro. Hago esta reseña con mucho cariño, con lo que recuerdo de los primeros tres libros (el último lo acabo de terminar, de los otros han pasado mínimo cuatro meses), porque con ellos encontré mi afición al cuento corto, y las ganas de escribir algunos yo mismo, y con todo el resentimiento que me dejó el incosistente volumen final. Pero vámonos por partes.Ojos de Perro Azul es mi favorito sin duda alguna de los libros que están en ese compendio. Cortos, sencillos, ricos. Aún más impresionante cuando te das cuenta de que todos los escribió GGM entre los veinte y los veinticinco años. Aunque aún no está consolidado el característico estilo de GGM, son cuentos sinceros, llenos de fascinación por el mundo. Hay en ellos un aire de purgatorio que se va perdiendo conforme avanza cronológicamente su obra, y que a mí me habría encantado que continuara. Lo leí dos veces, hace más de un año y hace ocho meses, pero Alguien desordena estas rosas, Eva está dentro de su gato y Ojos de perro azul no se me van olvidar.Los Funerales de la Mamá Grande me gustó por razones más personales. Se nota mayor madurez como escritor en ellos, y algo que me supo muy mexicano hay en ellos. No hay viejos resucitados ni mariposas amarillas ni exhuberancias selváticas, pero sí pleitos de honor, dictadores cínicos, resentimientos sinceros y un ambiente caluroso y seco más identificable para un mexicano que el ambiente tropical de gran parte de la obra de GGM. No suelo tenerle paciencia a los cuentos, pero En este pueblo no hay ladrones tiene todo el aire de una película mexicana de la Época de Oro, y pues cómo resistirse a eso. Un día de estos sigue siendo uno de mis cuentos favoritos en general. Es fuerte, conciso, corto, a lo que va. Toda la violencia, todo el resentimiento de la represión de un continente, empaquetados en una ida al dentista. "-Aquí nos paga veinte muertos, teniente"... Los funerales de la Mamá Grande, aunque no llegó a mis expectativas, llenó muy bien el hueco de curiosidad que dejó la pequeña alusión a ellos en Cien Años de Soledad.La Increíble y Triste Historia de la Cándida Eréndira y su Abuela Desalmada es el libro de cuentos definitivo de Gabriel García Márquez. Todo, todo lo que caracteriza su obra está aquí con mayor fuerza y esplendor. Aquí hay seis cuentos cortos y una noveleta que da título al libro. Los primeros tres cuentos son sin duda alguna las obras maestras de la ficción corta de Márquez. Un señor muy viejo con unas alas enormes, El mar del tiempo perdido y El ahogado más hermoso del mundo incluyen los elementos del realismo mágico y las inflexiones comunes de GGM de manera natural a las anécdotas, temas e ideas de los cuentos. Los primeros dos tal vez son demasiado obvios en su "moraleja", pero la prosa y buen ritmo de la narración lo vale. El tercero es mi favorito de este volumen. El lenguaje de la fauna marítima me encanta por sus posibilidades poéticas, y GGM lo utiliza excelentemente. Los efectos en los pueblos que tiene la travesía del cadaver de Esteban es, a lo muy poco, memorable. Nota al pie: "Andaban extraviadas por esos dédalos de fantasía [...] -Tiene cara de llamarse Esteban.". Esteban, dédalos. O es mucha la coincidencia, o GGM nos dio aquí el fin último del Stephen Dedalus de Joyce. Los otros tres cuentos son buenos, agregan a este ritmo general que traía García Márquez al escribir estos cuentos, pero nada más. No son muy memorables. La Eréndira es un asunto similar. Es una noveleta escrita con un estilo muy propio de GGM, pero logra incorporar toda la tradición literaria occidental que GGM trae detrás. Desde los nombres, Eréndira, Amadises, Ulises (¿Joyce, de nuevo?), hasta la estructura de la historia, GGM conjunta sus dos tradiciones en esta noveleta mejor que en algunas de sus novelas. Como dije, para conocer a GGM en su etapa más GGM, este libro es lo más acertado.Y entonces llegamos a Doce Cuentos Peregrinos. Mis problemas empezaron con el título, que me gustaba menos que el original (¿qué había de malo con Extraños Peregrinos: Doce Cuentos), aunque después del prólogo se aclaró un poco. Buen viaje, señor presidente, La santa, «Sólo vine a hablar por teléfono», y muy especialmente Espantos de agosto me gustaron. Buenos cuentos, escritos por un hombre que aparentemente ya lo había escrito todo. Los primeros dos con el sabor de nostalgia que GGM describe en su prólogo, ejecutado de buena manera, el tercero como un buen cuento de suspenso, y el cuarto como una historia sobrenatural simple con un final muy satisfactorio. Disfrutables, entrañables, bien escritos. Pero con los otros no estoy tan conforme. Mediocres, sin mucho filo, olvidables. En el último cuento, El rastro de tu sangre en la nieve, que yo estaba preparado a adorar por su genial título, llegué a sentirme molesto por ciertas cosas que me llegaron a parecer incluso vicios en la escritura de GGM. Hay un fragmento en que describe unas escaleras como "olorosas a remolachas cocidas". Para empezar, me parece algo increíble que un personaje vaya subiendo las escaleras y diga "Hum, esto huele como a remolachas cocidas". Sé que GGM suele jugar con lo imposible, pero en este cuento no parece funcionar. Incluso el hecho que mueve el cuento, en pinchazo con espina de rosa que no deja de sangrar, parece vago y fuera de lugar. Luego, para el lector promedio es completamente inútil saber que esas escaleras olían a remolacha cocida, porque, ¿qué asociaciones mentales causa eso en el lector? NINGUNA. Me pareció que GGM simplemente no podía evitar agregar detalles así, lo hacía por fórmula, por fuerza de la costumbre. Detalles de ese estilo se repetían una y otra vez en varios cuentos, hartándome cuando en otras de sus obras me encantaban. Tal vez será que yo mismo me había hartado, o será que GGM de verdad había crecido a viciarse de su propio éxito, no lo sé.Este es un compendio de una parte muy significativa de la obra de uno de los mejores escritores del siglo XX, y de la historia de la literatura hispana. No puedo dejar de recomendarlo, debido a todo lo bueno que me dio, a pesar de los momentos agridulces al final.


Terrific writing! By far my favorite read was " The very old man with enormous wings."


Maravilloso, como siempre lo es García Márquez. Te hace soñar sin apenas darte cuenta. Es muy interesante este recorrido por su historia como escritor a través de sus cuentos. En los primeros, los de "Ojos de perro azul", queda claro que el lenguaje es lo suyo, pero todavía sentí que había exploración, incluso cierta inseguridad, en lo que escribía. Inconexos, repetitivos a veces, la obsesión por la muerte llega a aburrir. Después, poco a poco se va definiendo el García Márquez que ha llegado a ser quien es. Imposible que entre tantos cuentos todos sean maravillosos, pero incluso los que me gustaron menos se disfrutan. Gloriosos los de "Los funerales..." y los de "La triste historia..." Muy, muy disfrutable, para revisitarlo muchas veces.

Ayman Zaaqoq

عندما تقرأ لأديب عملاق مثل ماركيز فإن سقف طموحاتك يطاول السماء، لكنك تكون مهموما بعوامل أخرى كالترجمة، خصوصا وأن الروايات المكتوبة بغير الانجليزية لا تكون عادة مترجمة إلى العربية من لغتها الأم، وإنما تكون مترجمة من ترجمات أخرى وسيطة كالانجليزية و الفرنسية.لكن هذا الكتاب مختلف، فقد اجتمعت فيه الترجمة الجيدة جدا - المباشرة و الأدبية - للمنوفي مع الأدب الأصيل الذهبي لماركيز مع غلاف جميل للفنانة فاطمة العرارجي، بالإضافة إلى طباعة جيدة و سعر زهيد للغاية.الكتاب يضم اثنتا عشرة قصة قصيرة من الناحية الفنية، لكن كل قصة منها هي عصارة تجربة غنية و فكرة مذهلة. والرائع في أعمال ماركيز أنها في منتهى البساطة الشكلية – سهلة التناول و مشوقة – لكنها دسمة المعنى، فتشعر أن وراء كل قطعة معان مختلفة، فتعيد قراءتها مرارا بنفس المتعة و الدهشة الأولتين. ويتسم أسلوب ماركيز في هذه المجموعة بالسخرية اللاذعة، التي قد تدفعك للابتسام ووجهك مبلل بدموع المأساة المروية، وهذا جانب آخر من جوانب عظمته.بهرتني ثلاث قصص تستحق النجوم الخمس: "جنازة الأم الكبرى" التي تصور مشاكل العالم الثالث المقموع و المقهور، "إيرينديرا وجدتها القاسية" التي تصور إذلال الإنسان المفزع للإنسان و ما يتبعه، "رحلة طيبة يا سيدي الرئيس" التي تظهر أن ضعف الإنسان واحد مهما علا شأنه.يلي ذلك ثلاث قصص قيمتها بأربع نجمات: "قيلولة الثلاثاء"، "الموت الدائم قيما وراء الحب"، "جئت لأتصل بالتليفون فقط".كتاب جميل يستحق القراءة.


I wish I could say any of Garcia Marquez' other writings were in the same league as '100 Years of Solitude', but for the most part they're not. I guess he gets only one true work of literary genius this time around, which ought to be enough to satisfy anyone, so I can't complain! A couple of his stories, particularly 'The Handsomest Drowned Man in the World' and 'A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings' are up there with his best work, but many of them I find pretty random, self-indulgent, uninspired or simply unreadable. Pick your way through however and you'll find a couple of nuggets of gold.


I Sell Dreams by Gabriel Garcia MarquezIt is intriguing to find in a story by the master of Magical Realism real people. Pablo Neruda makes an appearance in this short story, and only that by he dreams something interesting.He dreams about this outlandish woman who…dreams about his future.And to return in full Magical Realism, the woman herself dreams about Neruda and his dream.The irony of this very good story is that the woman who presumably can tell the future dies in the first lines of the story, swept away by a huge wave.Again, I am reminded by a line in Prizzi’s Honour, where Charlie Partana played by an outstanding Jack Nicholson says:- If Marxie Heller's so fucking smart, how come he's so fucking dead”...It is an oxymoron to be a fortune teller and then be killed by a wave, on the shore.On the other hand, Freda, the heroine was Selling Dreams.She stayed in Vienna, where she was dreaming and telling her dreams to a family that paid for her lodgings, meals and this job of telling them what to avoid and when to go out.Freda was in control of that family.Then Pablo Neruda makes an unexpected appearance, as a gluttonous man, presiding over tables and eating lobsters with gusto.This probably goes to prove that the Realism in Magical Realism is alive and kicking. It is actually part of the attraction, at least for this reader.I am not keen on magic which is just plain absurd, that’s probably why I do not fall for the Eugene Ionesco plays.In what concerns Freda’s dreams and her ability, or is it her subconscious’ capacity to tell the future from her dreams and not only that, but insert herself somehow into Neruda’s dream, I believe anything is possible.After reading psychology and research that shows how Magical human capacities are, I am open to find any outlandish story to be true.We are taken in a very short story to Columbia, Havana, and Vienna and then sent to Japan through a tea ceremony metaphor. After Neruda makes his Special Guest Star performance, Borges is mentioned and the passage of the dream of the poet which interacts with Freda’s dream:- This right out of Borges- If he did not write that…- It will be in one of his Labyrinths”It is marvelous how a fabulous writer can include so much in a few pages and reveal his talent in such small pieces. Small, but gems anyhow.I must express my admiration and gratitude to the giant writer for such moments of bliss, but I must confess that it puzzles me to find the other work I read now a bit too linear, I would not dare and say boring in its description of cows defecating in balconies, hens running amok in presidential palace saloons. It may be strange phenomena, all my fault – to become disinterested in the most outrageous happenings and situations. It is a proof though that when one starts reading a book in a style which is shocking, one feels the adrenaline rushing and eyes pop out of sockets.But with time, reading about testicles carried in wheel barrows and scandalous sex does not produce the same chemical reactions in the brain.Not in mine, alas.But it will happen again…Insh’Allah.

Greg Brown

This is the first I've read by Marquez and OK, I guess.One of Marquez's themes that becomes clear over the course of these twenty-six stories is the way that the odd quickly becomes familiar, and how some things that are familiar are actually rather odd in practice. The first batch of stories, published as "Eyes of a Blue Dog" in Spanish, are insistently concerned with the limits of physical existence. The characters experience blindness, death, and other hardships tied to their bodies. Marquez finds a way to pick out the salient details, creating drama out of even a man shaving himself using his own reflection.That reflection story in particular manages to hint at his later moves towards the fantastic. The third and final batch of stories starts with the excellent story "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings," which chronicles the arrival in town of a very old man with enormous wings. Initially a spectacle, he quickly ceases to hold any value for the town's residents, forced to subsist on mush in a chicken coop. Marquez shows how the ordinary can subtly be fantastic by presenting a fantastic situation that quickly turns ordinary. I suppose this is an aim of the larger magical realism movement too.The voice is hard to pin down, too. It's got that slippery feel of translated prose to it, but not the simple, plain-spoken quality of Murakami's take on magical realism. It can be sensuous one moment, and clinical the next. It dives into characters and spins out of them just as quickly. It refuses to be pinned down, but still feels as if it was all written by the same author. I could never really get my thumb on it, partially because the stories span such a length of time in the developing talent of Marquez.Overall, it was a pleasure to read but I can't say that I was blown away like I was by some of the other stuff I've read recently. The stories did have their wonderful moments, but they were diffuse and not quite as discrete-blow-to-the-cranium as the best ones are. The book felt weird, but too comfortable for my taste. Maybe it's because today's authors have already digested and iterated on Marquez's style, but the whole experience felt like I was reading something I'd seen somewhere else. I can understand why my friend Maggie so eagerly pushed it on me, but the effect was more of recognizing why it's good, not feeling why it's good.


القصص القصيرة الكاملة يضم هذا الكتاب المجموعات القصصية التالية (عينا كلب أزرق)، (جنازة الأم الكبيرة)، (القصة الحزينة التي لا تصدق لإيرنديرا البريئة وجدتها القاسية) و(اثنتا عشرة قصة قصيرة مهاجرة). افتتحت بهذا الكتاب العام الجديد، كنت آمل أن ماركيز سيمنحني دفعة جميلة، ولكن للأسف تجرعت الكتاب ببطء طيلة الشهر، لا أدري ما الذي حدث؟ هل كان مزاجي لا يتناسب مع الواقعية السحرية هذه الأيام؟ أم أن المجموعة ولأنها كتبت على مدى 34 عاماً جعلها ثقيلة، أرجح هذا الاحتمال، لأني استمتعت بالمجموعتين الأخيرتين أكثر مما فعلت مع الأوليين. حيث غلب على المجموعة الأولى الأشباح، ولم يعجبني منها إلا قصة (المرأة التي تصل في السادسة)، من المجموعة الثالثة كانت قصة إيرنديرا وجدتها الأبرز، أما المجموعة الأخيرة فكانت هي الأبرز وخاصة قصص (طائرة الحسناء النائمة)، (جئت لأتكلم في الهاتف فقط)، (رعب آب) وهاتين القصتين نموذجين راقيين لأدب الرعب، (وأثر دمك على الثلج) قصة الحب التي فتنتني وآلمتني نهايتها.

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