பதாகை தளத்தில் வெளிவந்தது http://padhaakai.com/2014/03/16/marquez-and-power/)
The escape from reality was, he felt—especially right after the war—a worthy challenge… The pain of his loss—though he would never have spoken of it in those terms—was always with him in those days, a cold smooth ball lodged in his chest, just behind his sternum.For that half hour spent in the dappled shade of the Douglas firs, reading Betty and Veronica, the icy ball had melted away without him even noticing. That was the magic—not the apparent magic of a silk-hatted card-palmer, or the bold, brute trickery of the escape artist,but the genuine magic of art. It was a mark of how fucked-up and broken was the world—the reality—that had swallowed his home and his family that such a feat of escape, by no means easy to pull off, should remain so universally despised.
“…the expression of an yearning that a few magic words and an artful hand might produce something – exempt from the crushing strictures, from the ills cruelties, and inevitable failures of the greater creation”
The true magic of this broken world lay in the ability of the things it contained to vanish, to become so thoroughly lost, that they might never have existed in the first place
“Christ, Joe, you fucking idiot,” Sammy said. “We love you”.
“there is no force more powerful than that of an unbridled imagination”.