Tag adaptation

The Illustrated cover in many shades of green with a yellow snake and a purple bird evokes the tropical setting of the book.

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Kristen B. Leave a comment
The Illustrated cover in many shades of green with a yellow snake and a purple bird evokes the tropical setting of the book.

by Kristen B.

My book club (Books on Tap) left for our August summer break on something of an odd note. At a previous meeting, we had a discussion about adapting books to TV shows and movies. I had recently read glowing reviews of the Netflix adaption of One Hundred Years of Solitude, and I proposed reading the Latin American classic. Everyone agreed that it had been awhile since we tackled something, perhaps, weightier, and – per usual for this great group of people – they were game to try.

I had read and loved this book in college, when I was in the practice of reading complicated, challenging material. While I still enjoyed the book this time around, I definitely found it more difficult to read decades later. The full immersion into the Buendia family and the village of Macondo remained the same, enchantingly so. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is credited with inventing modern magical realism, where the odd and inexplicable are part of every day life.

The family was trickier this time around, with the generations sharing names and attributes. I – and my book club folks – got too caught up in trying to keep everyone straight. In talking about it, though, we realized that’s one of the joys of this inter-generational story. It’s as though your grandma or some other older relative is telling you the family history, with asides and doubling back and other random diversions before actually getting to the point. It’s not really necessary that you keep the Aurelianos, Jose Arcadios, and Ursulas straight because the novel moves in circular patterns more than as a linear “and then” plot. We were less thrilled with a rather dated assumption that the patriarchy meant that men could marry whomever they pleased, even barely adolescent girls and despite mistresses.

The particular smaller stories, though, share in all of humanity’s troubles and joys, often humorously so – the insomnia plague, the visiting gypsies who bring the miracles of magnets and ice to Macondo, the coming of the railroad and banana company, the feuds, and the love affairs. All of it mixed into a sort of memory soup filled with revolution, politics, and the destructive nature of colonialism and classism. It’s been called the Great Novel of the Americas, and I would agree with that assessment. There’s something quintessentially Latin American about the story, and absolutely universal about the way it is told. I was reminded of the spider from my family’s camping trip with Scouts that gets a little bit bigger every time the story is recounted, or the number of pies my grandmother would bake during the summer, or any other number of embellishments to tried-and-true chestnuts of familial tales.

If, however, the book doesn’t suit your current reading tastes – as many people found at book club – Netflix recently released the first half of an almost perfect adaptation of the book, with the second season coming soon, hopefully in 2026. Being able to see Macondo and its inhabitants helps keep it all straight, without losing any of the wonder or weirdness of the book. The voiceover of descriptions and commentary are taken directly from the original text, and it’s a perfect way to meld the classic novel with the new medium. The cast does a perfect job of inhabiting the characters and their often exasperated relationships. While the show’s original language is Spanish, the dubbing was not distracting. It’s also a rather frankly spicy (would be R-rated) depiction of various lovers and marriages. I hope it becomes available on DVD or via Kanopy soon, as it’s the perfect complement to the book.

Re-examining classics is always worthwhile to me, because the books may not change but we do as readers. I had memories of enjoying One Hundred of Solitude but couldn’t remember why. The town of Macondo, isolated in the jungle, and the Buendia family once again live in my imagination, and I am glad for it – if for different reasons than when I was in college.

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is available in translation to English in print and as an e-audiobook. It is also available in Spanish.

Kristen B. is a devoted bookworm lucky enough to work as the graphic designer for HCLS. She likes to read, stitch, dance, and watch baseball (but not all at the same time).

The Addams Family by Barry Sonnenfeld 

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The image shows the Addams Family assembled before a full moon under a dark sky, in front of their home.

by Alex P.

The ooky, spooky Addams Family has charmed America for almost a hundred years in countless forms and adaptations, from Charles Addams’s original New Yorker comics to Tim Burton’s new TV series on Wednesday Addams. The 1991 film, though, has always struck me as the adaptation that captured the demented energy of the original comics the best. It’s the kind of delightful culmination of talent and influences that is truly lightning in a bottle.

The film is the directorial debut of Barry Sonnenfeld, but you’d never be able to tell from its bold camerawork, blocking, and mise-en-scène. (It must have helped that he was director of photography for the Coen Brothers’ first three films.) Before I saw the film, I assumed it must have come from the dynamic duo of director Tim Burton and Danny Elfman, but Sonnenfeld both channels their era-defining aesthetic influences and adds a faster pace and kookiness that are all his own. Every set in the film is so full of detail that the Addams mansion becomes its own character. The impossible layouts and mountains of cobweb and clutter allow it to feel like a live-action cartoon. 

Gomez’s brother, Fester, returns to the Addams Family after having suddenly disappeared decades earlier in the Bermuda Triangle. But Fester is not Fester: the reunion is a scheme cooked up by Addams’s lawyer as a way to repay loan shark Abigail Craven. Craven’s adopted son Gordon resembles Fester remarkably, so he’s sent into the mansion during a séance to access the eccentric family’s vast riches. The bulk of the action follows Fester as Gomez wants to reminisce about growing up together, while Fester tries his hardest to keep up with the Addams’ odd and morbid customs. 

Those customs are perfectly presented in the spirit of Charles Addams’s one-panel comics. The Addams Family lives a macabre mirror image of the traditional American household, captured in this earnest and glorious interpretation. The film has aged perfectly, thanks to the simplicity of the characters and costuming, the labyrinthine sets, and the practical effects for, for example, the disembodied hand, Thing. The cast is also a once-in-a-lifetime assemblage. The late Raul Julia leads as Gomez Addams, and his chemistry with Morticia (Anjelica Hudson) is indelible. The momentum of the film is carried by the glee the pair shares in the perverse and morbid, and Julia in particular thrills with expressive and kinetic energy. Christopher Lloyd is cast against body type as Fester Addams, and though his role is peripheral, the seven-foot-tall Carel Struycken plays a perfect Lurch.

The influence Charles Addams’s characters have had on American culture is monumental; it’s arguable that he created goth culture. Accordingly, every generation has had several adaptations competing to be their favorite. For me, though, Sonnenfeld’s celebration of these characters is the one that defines them and transcends its era. 

The Addams Family is available on DVD and for streaming through Kanopy. 

Alex Pyryt is a DIY Instructor & Research Specialist at HCLS Elkridge Branch.