《百年孤独》，是哥伦比亚作家加西亚·马尔克斯创作的长篇小说，是其代表作，也是拉丁美洲魔幻现实主义文学的代表作，被誉为“再现拉丁美洲历史社会图景的鸿篇巨著”。故事讲述马孔多小镇和布恩地亚家族的兴衰变化与传奇故事，记录了家族命运与百年历史，是重复地叙述相同而荒唐的命运，是拉美国家几百年命运的缩影，独具意味地隐喻着人类“文明”史的建立、发展与终结，在荒凉失落与荒唐可笑中诠释宿命式的轮回。家族中人物名字是相同或相近的，预示着他们拥有殊途同归的孤独命运。《百年孤独》以布恩地亚被捆在树上为开端，以他被蚂蚁吃掉为结束，通过细腻丰富的笔触、大胆自由的想象、魔幻的叙事艺术，讲述布恩地亚家族命运与历史，刻画人物孤独的灵魂与自我救赎，进而体现出个人、家族及全人类的悲悯与孤独情怀，让人们重新思考时代发展与人性变化。《百年孤独》被世界文坛誉为魔幻现实主义文学的主峰，已被翻译成30多种文字出版，销量逾1000万册。

Chapter 9

COLONEL GERINELDO M?RQUEZ was the first to perceive the emptiness of the war. In his position as civil and military leader of Macondo he would have telegraphic conversations twice a week with Colonel Aureliano Buendía. At first those exchanges would determine the course of a flesh-and-blood war, the perfectly defined outlines of which told them at any moment the exact spot -where it was and the prediction of its future direction. Although he never let himself be pulled into the area of confidences, not even by his closest friends, Colonel Aureliano Buendía still had at that time the familiar tone that made it possible to identify him at the other end of the wire. Many times he would prolong the talk beyond the expected limit and let them drift into comments of a domestic nature. Little by little, however, and as the war became more intense and widespread, his image was fading away into a universe of unreality. The characteristics of his speech were more and more uncertain, and they cam together and combined to form words that were gradually losing all meaning. Colonel Gerineldo Márquez limited himself then to just listening, burdened by the impression that he was in telegraphic contact with a stranger from another world.
“I understand, Aureliano,?he would conclude on the key. “Long live the Liberal party!?
He finally lost all contact with the war. What in other times had been a real activity, an irresistible passion of his youth, became a remote point of reference for him: an emptiness. His only refuge was Amaranta’s sewing room. He would visit her every afternoon. He liked to watch her hands as she curled frothy petticoat cloth in the machine that was kept in motion by Remedios the Beauty. They spent many hours without speaking, content with their reciprocal company, but while Amaranta was inwardly pleased in keeping the fire of his devotion alive, he was unaware of the secret designs of that indecipherable heart. When the news of his return reached her, Amaranta had been smothered by anxiety. But when she saw him enter the house in the middle of Colonel Aureliano Buendía’s noisy escort and she saw how he had been mistreated by the rigors of exile, made old by age and oblivion, dirty with sweat and dust, smelling like a herd, ugly, with his left arm in a sling, she felt faint with disillusionment. “My God,?she thought. “This wasn’t the person I was waiting for.?On the following day, however, he came back to the house shaved and clean, with his mustache perfumed with lavender water and without the bloody sling. He brought her a prayerbook bound in mother-of-pearl.