《百年孤独》这本书我曾读过不止一遍,但每遍都是似懂非懂。第一遍读的时候由于年龄尚小,被书内相似而错综复杂的角色名,和不确定时间的叙事角度绕得不得不放弃,那时的我只是惊异于作者笔下世界的奇异魔幻,就如同置身于迷离而恍惚的幻境:布恩迪亚在去世时下了整整一夜的黄花雨;奥雷里亚诺能预知汤锅即将掉下桌缘……而之后几遍读时我已比起之前成熟许多,但却仍然没能理解作者的真正意图,只是唏嘘于这个注定孤独的家庭的悲剧命运 I have read this book “One Hundred Years of Solitude” more than once, but every time I understand it. At the first reading I was forced to give up because of my age, the name of a similar and intricate character in the book, and the narrative angle of indeterminate time. At that time, I was only amazed by the author’s strange and magical world. In a blur of fantasy and trance: Baudrillard died a full night of yellow rain; Aureliano can predict the pot is about to fall off the edge of the table ... ... and after reading several times I have matured before than many , But still failed to understand the true intention of the author, just sigh about the tragic fate of this doomed lonely family