Resumo de Garcia Marquez Celebrated Her 80 Years Moved Away Of The Great Tributes

García Márquez celebrated her 80 years moved away of the great tributes He began yesterday, precise, the year of Gabriel Garci''a Márquez. The uneven author of One hundred years of solitude, her its canonical novel, celebrated her 80 years "missing along with her woman, Mercedes" of the tributes that are multiplied in Latin America and Spain, to celebrate this legend Colombian "", as he called the newspaper the Time, of Bogota. According to informed agencies and average digitalises, Gabo or Gabito - as their friends call and their brothers were shut in yesterday in their house of the colorful district of the Pedregal, in City of Mexico, without taking care of fárrago of calls of journalists. "we are going away to disappear", was advance some Mexican friend to him, when also alluding to its inseparable companion, Mercedes Barcha. Garci''a Márquez is the only man who began yesterday to celebrate four birthdays, according to emphasized the Time. The eighty years fulfilled in the eve will be completed with the four decades of One hundred years of considered solitude one of the twenty best ones of the universal narrative. Also this year six decades of the edition of their first story, the third resignation, appeared in 1947 are marked, and twenty-five years since Garci''a Márquez obtained the Nobel prize de Literatura. Garci''a Márquez is the incarnation of the writer office.. It seems that he was in Acapulco in the middle of the sixty when he fell imprisoned of the idea of One hundred years of solitude. The immediate success was the beginning of the phenomenon. Some years later the Nobel prize would fall to him who, as he himself describes it, could have been a tomb - very honorable if she is wanted, but tomb to the aim for a man in fifty means. Too young to allow the asphyxia by glory. Gabo is also a warm man, with good star, fortune. It found Mercedes Barcha and it could construct a family. It defended his office and the office paid to him. It risked and there was harvest. It touched a narrative slope very little explored and it took it to the peak. Risky and frequently inexplicable Nobel sent it to the firmament. "In each line which I write treatment to invoke aloof spirits of the poetry", Garci''a Márquez in 1982 said to Gabriel, after gaining Nobel de Literatura. For that reason the spell of its words: Macondo, colonel, scent to guayaba. The encantamiento does not stop. Yesterday, the great wizard of the Hispanic prosa fulfilled eighty years and almost everybody festejó Mientras amanecía in his house of the Pedregal of Mexico; in Aracataca (the Macondo One hundred Years of Solitude) safe ones of tube resounded eighty. Between that small town in the bananera region of the North coast of Colombia and in which a Sunday it seems to last eight days, "Gabo" was born. There, in its dusty streets, they adorned with golden pececillos yellow butterflies and, and marched past a band of music Caribbean and composed of big drum, subjects of gossip, trompeta and redoblante. Puebo was decorated with yellow butterflies; also a drop curtain in the center of the seat of the village with photos of the teacher was located, located chronological from its childhood to its adultez. Garci''a Márquez excused itself not to attend the acts of the day of their birthday and to pospone their return to their house in Cartagena in the middle of March. The Gabo festejó yesterday in its house to the south of the City of Mexico surrounded by its better friends. Until its address a group arrived from mariachis who homenajearon it with their favorite songs. There are reasons to celebrate. Gabo turns eight decades of life; forty years of its work summit; twenty-five years since it gained the Nobel prize, and sixty years of the appearance of its first story the third resignation. The Real Academy will integrate One hundred Years of Solitude: total reality, total novel, whose prologue is of Mario Vargas Llosa, with whom the Colombian enemistó by more thos."El Colonel needed seventy and five years - the seventy and five years of its life, minute by minute - to arrive at that moment. One felt pure, explicit, invincible... " Thus the Colonel finishes "does not have who writes to him thus" and, just by to change number seventy and five by the eighty, could be summarized the day in which Gabo celebrated her eight decades, without aging, like her texts.

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