百年孤独是什么文学的代表作 世纪文学经典:《百年孤独》第6章Part 4

世纪文学经典:《百年孤独》第6章Part 4  

úrsula decreed that the wake would be in her house. Father Nicanor was against a religious ceremony and burial in consecrated ground. úrsula stood up to him. "In a way that neither you nor I can understand
that man was a saint
" she said. "So I am going to bury him
against your wishes
beside Melquíades' grave." She did it with the support of the whole town and with a magnificent funeral. Amaranta did not leave her bedroom. From her bed she heard úrsula's weeping
the steps and whispers of the multitude that invaded the house
the wailing of the mourners
and then a deep silence that smelled of trampled flowers. For a long time she kept on smelling Pietro Crespi's lavender breath at dusk
but she had the strength not to succumb to delirium. úrsula abandoned her. She did not even raise her eyes to pity her on the afternoon when Amaranta went into the kitchen and put her hand into the coals of the stove until it hurt her so much that she felt no more pain but instead smelled the pestilence of her own singed flesh. It was a stupid cure for her remorse. For several days she went about the house with her hand in a pot of egg whites
and when the burns healed it appeared as if the whites had also scarred over the sores on her heart. The only external trace that the tragedy left was the bandage of black gauze that she put on her burned hand and that she wore until her death.
Arcadio gave a rare display of generosity by decreeing official mourning for Pietro Crespi. úrsula interpreted it as the return of the strayed lamb. But she was mistaken. She had lost Arcadio
not when he had put on his military uniform
but from the beginning. She thought she had raised him as a son
as she had raised Rebeca
with no privileges or discrimination. Nevertheless
Arcadio was a solitary and frightened child during the insomnia plague
in the midst of úrsula's utilitarian fervor
during the delirium of José Arcadio Buendía
the hermetism of Aureliano
and the mortal rivalry beeen Amaranta and Rebeca. Aureliano had taught him to read and write
thinking about other things
as he would have done with a stranger. He gave him his clothing so that Visitación could take it in when it was ready to be thrown away. Arcadio suffered from shoes that were too large
from his patched pants
from his female buttocks. He never succeeded in municating with anyone better than he did with Visitación andCataure in their language. Melquíades was the only one who really was concerned with him as he made him listen to his inprehensible texts and gave him lessons in the art of daguerreotype. No one imagined how much he wept in secret and the desperation with which he tried to revive Melquíades with the useless study of his papers. The school
where they paid attention to him and respected him
and then power
with his endless decrees and his glorious uniform
freed him from the weight of an old bitterness. One night in Catarino's store someone dared tell him
"you don't deserve the last name you carry." Contrary to what everyone expected
Arcadio did not have him shot.
"To my great honor
" he said
"I am not a Buendía."
Those who knew the secret of his parentage thought that the answer meant that he too was aware of it
but he had really never been. Pilar Ternera
his mother
who had made his blood boil in the darkroom
was as much an irresistible obsession for him as she had been first for José Arcadio and then for Aureliano. In spite of her having lost her charms and the splendor of her laugh
he sought her out and found her by the trail of her smell of smoke. A short time before the war
one noon when she was later than usual in ing for her younger son at school
Arcadio was waiting for her in the room where he was accustomed to take his siesta and where he later set up the stocks. While the child played in the courtyard
he waited in his hammock
trembling with anxiety
knowing that Pillar Ternera would have to pass through there. She arrived. Arcadio grabbed her by the wrist and tried to pull her into the hammock. "I can't
I can't
" Pilar Ternera said in horror. "You can't imagine how much I would like to make youhappy
but as God is my witness I can't." Arcadio took her by the waist with his tremendous hereditary strength and he felt the world disappear with the contact of her skin. "Don't play the saint
" he said. "After all
everybody knows that you're a whore." Pilar overcame the disgust that her miserable fate inspired in her.
"The children will find out
" she murmured. "It will be better if you leave the bar off the door tonight."