La Hojarasca: Una Narrativa Fragmentada

I came away from “La Hojarasca” as I always do from a García Márquez work: thoroughly impressed, considerably confused, left wondering about the many loose ends he refuses to tie up and obscurities he chooses to leave unexplained, and still trying to figure out the significance of the many seemingly trivial details he intersperses throughout yet another strange and morbid tale. What is García Márquez driving at by incessantly comparing the doctor to a barnyard animal and/ or El Cachorro (The Pup)? What is the significance of Martín? Of Abraham? Why is the Colonel Aureliano Buendía indebted to the doctor? What has become of Meme and what happened to her baby? Some readers may be frustrated by the lack of closure found at the end of most García Márquez works, but I find it to be an ingenious technique for drawing in the reader. One is unlikely to become bored or lose focus while struggling to comprehend the numerous strange parallels drawn between the doctor and a mule. His head is reportedly shaped like the skull of a donkey, he snubs fancy meals for bowls of ordinary, boiled grass (IV), he is said to have brought as much love and warmth to Meme’s bed as might a mule (I), and his voice and mannerisms are repeatedly described with the words “parsimonioso” and “rumiante” (IV), vocabulary reminiscent of a stubborn donkey chewing grass. A reader of García Márquez must be actively engaged to grasp the complexities of the plot and the intricacies of his characters. It is these very intricacies, these minute and seemingly irrelevant details, that make García Márquez’ characters so genuinely believable. The side story of Isabela’s experience with her con-artist husband, Martín, the child’s somewhat homoerotic feelings toward his friend, Abraham, and the barber’s daughter’s alleged encounters with ‘spirits’ are all side stories that give García Márquez’ stream-of-consciousness style its legitimacy. The manner in which the narrative perspective shifts seamlessly from one character’s point of view to the next, with the slight repetition of notable dialogue or events indicating continuity amidst the fragmented narrative, adds to the atmosphere of confusion and strangeness. The technique of neglecting to disclose the names of certain characters, such as the child and the doctor, also adds to the atmosphere of mystery and obscurity. These characters are very well-rounded, often appearing selfish, distracted, or disturbed by the fulfillment of the deceased doctor’s dying wish. There are no heroes, no stock good or evil characters. There are only real people, explaining every thought that crosses their mind as they wade through the bizarre and risky task of burying a man the town of Macondo would rather see rot away in the dilapidated house on the corner for all eternity. The combined impact of García Márquez’ unconventional literary techniques is an unmistakably unique and signature style and an intensely bizarre, yet fascinating read.