What never fails to turn me and my wife on is the butterfly effect of ”One Hundred Years of Solitude,‘’ a novel by Gabriel García Márquez.
Once opened, every page instantly morphs into a multitude of paper-thin wings.
Before we know it, countless yellow butterflies have already been fluttering around a character who must be Márquez's avatar. Yes, that happens in the novelist's world of magical realism.
In the story, all these mysterious butterflies come from South America. In fact, everywhere else can also be a dreamland for Márquezian butterflies.
Speaking of which, once done with reading, this young couple can't help but start making each other feel fuzzy and warm inside --- idiomatically, we're giving each other butterflies.
Let butterflies own magical realism. Let us own butterflies.
Author: renqiulan
(To me, a book is a pile of blank papers until I read it. )
