Marquez, Gabriel Garcia. Memories of My Melancholy Whores. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2005. 115 pp. Shannon Bauchert
aegis 2007 160
Gabriel Garcia Marquez in his new novel, Memories of My Melancholy Whores presents a story that is a tantalizing pleasure to read, yet at the same time, somewhat unsettling to digest. In this unusual love story, the reader is introduced to the novel’s unnamed narrator—a somewhat reclusive man who has recently turned ninety years old. From the very beginning, the reader discovers the narrator’s most coveted wish: to engage in sexual relations with an adolescent virgin, an act which he hopes to perform as a birthday present to himself. As it soon turns out, the narrator is soon granted his wish by an old brothel owner and friend, Rose Cabarcas. The remainder of the novel focuses on the narrator’s growing obsession with the young girl and describes the details of his utter infatuation with her silent presence. The virgin whom Rose Cabarcas supplies the narrator with is a poor girl. She lives with her crippled mother and is forced to take care of her brothers and sisters on a petty salary she receives by sewing buttons in a clothing factory. When the narrator firsts meets the young girl in one of the rooms at Rose Cabarcas’ brothel, she is asleep, having been drugged by Cabarcas in order to assuage her fear of losing her virginity. Throughout the course of the novel, the young girl is always sleeping during the narrator’s visits. Even though the narrator’s initial intention was to sleep with the girl, he never wakes her, but instead studies her while she sleeps. His only physical contact with her body is the nearness of his own while he sleeps beside her. Yet, slowly, he becomes fixated by the mute girl to the point that he believes he has fallen in love with her. The love the narrator describes for this young girl whose real name is never mentioned (though he refers to her as Delgadina) is intense and poignant. Despite the fact that she is a child and he has never communicated with her, but merely gazed upon her speechless form, may appear disturbing to many readers, but Gabriel Garcia Marquez illustrates the narrator’s feelings for the young virgin in such a way that his love for her appears genuine and heartfelt. For instance, the narrator at one point expresses his love for his, “Delgadina,” with the following words: “…I sailed on my love for Delgadina with an intensity and happiness I had never known in my former life. Thanks to her I confronted my inner self for the first time as my ninetieth year went by” (65). Though the narrator’s love is upsetting in the sense that the object of his affection is clearly an inexperienced child, at the same time, the message the novel sends is daring: for it speaks on behalf of a love that is forbidden. In fact, it speaks on behalf of pedophilia. In spite of this, Marquez portrays the narrator in such a way that the reader can sympathize with his emotions. He is someone who is worth trying to understand. He is someone to pity. It is hard to feel any sort of animosity toward the narrator because of how he describes his lifestyle and because of how he describes himself. He considers himself to be, “ugly, shy, and anachronistic.” Over all, he has a very low opinion of himself. He lives alone
