In One Hundred Years of Solitude Marquez compresses the Latin American unrest into a Buendia family history. The children of the family all carry the same names of their parents. And they also act in a similar way, thus repeating history, its cyclical violence always a big sham. Why are we fighting? For pride the Colonel realizes. And that is all.
I’ve heard people talk about the sins of their father’s being handed down through the generations. I don’t know if I believe it. I’d like to, from an author’s perspective. I like the idea of it. If anything I think we’re given our forefather’s weaknesses. Not on purpose, but rather because they fail to instill in us what they could not instill in themselves. And on the flip side, we seem to gain our parent’s strengths. Leaving us terribly capable of making all the same mistakes and successes as they did.
This has been going on for longer than we’ll ever know, this handing down of gold and ashes. It’s always fool’s gold though. And somehow, atonement in the ash.