The disappointment is all the more acute because Marquez gave himself such a hard act to follow. Hailed as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century, he drew a huge international following. With Jorge Luis Borges, he put South America on the world literary map and was a major influence on other writers, particularly in his pioneering use of magic realism. Like many readers, I still remember the moment I picked up One Hundred Years of Solitude and was seduced from the first sentence.
There’s a strong argument for disobeying writers’ directions to destroy their manuscripts after they die. If it wasn’t for disobedience, we wouldn’t have the best of Kafka’s work. Other resurrected works suggest you should be careful what you wish for. Many readers who bought Harper Lee’s novel Go Set a Watchman (released in 2015 while the author was still alive, amid controversial allegations that she was pressured into publishing) were aghast to discover that her beloved character Atticus Finch, hero of To Kill a Mockingbird, had become a racist.
Ultimately, readers will decide whether releasing Until August was a sad mistake or an illuminating glimpse into a great novelist’s later work. “I would walk 500 miles to get to a new Marquez book,” said novelist Colum McCann. I don’t think I’ll go that far, but I’ll walk to my nearest bookshop.
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