Armenian Maran as Macondo's second chance

You only need to finish the first page of Three Apples Fell from the Sky to understand that Narine Abgaryan opens a discussion with Gabriel García Márquez. This is a gentle yet confident dialogue where Narine gives her perspective on lives impacted by global tragedies and personal failures.

She takes Macondo, moves it to the Armenian landscape, fills it with typical Armenians with their own mentality, customs, stubborn characters, and unbendable beliefs, and puts them through all the misfortunes that happened to Armenia throughout the entire XX century.

Maran is a remote, isolated village, yet it is fully impacted by the real historical events that happened to Armenians across one hundred years of their own solitude.

There is the distant memory of genocide that touched every family and changed the course of their lives. There is the Red Army that crossed the country and took over when Armenia was at its most vulnerable. There is famine and war referring to the Second World War, which left Armenia hungry and exhausted. There is the 1988 earthquake that destroyed an entire city and left it in ruins up until today. And of course there is the Artsakh problem, so conveniently created by the Soviet imperial state to make sure its “equal” and “independent” republics would bleed over problems that the Soviet system itself had created.

We see Macondo at the beginning of its glory. We see it being born, we see it turning into a prosperous city, and then we see it disappear from the earth.

Macondo's story ends when the last woman bleeds to death at childbirth and the newborn baby is being eaten by ants.

These are the last words in One hundred years of solitude:

races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth

Narine Abgaryan picks up the story right here. She takes the last breath of Macondo, turns it into Maran, and gives it a new, more hopeful ending.

Three Apples Fell from the Sky begins with the story of another woman bleeding to death on her bed. Yet, this is an Armenian fairytale and this transition from a bleeding dying woman in Macondo to a bleeding woman in Maran is not coincidental.

Maran is introduced to us at the moment of its death. The reader does not get to experience its prosperous past; we hear about it only through distant stories told by the few villagers still left alive. Maran’s geography, harsh weather, and remote position do not protect it from the tragedies of the global world. Maran is vulnerable to miseries that come both from inside and from outside.

Yet, unlike Macondo, which completely disappears from the earth, Maran is still alive. Barely alive, but still breathing. It is still fighting, it still hopes to make it to the next century. Why?

Macondo focuses on one family, a family of strong and brave people. They are many, but they are still one.

Maran is a village connected through a network of different people and families. Nothing here happens within the space of one family; everything moves and breathes because every single person contributes to the events. Vasiliy proposes to Anatolia, but the idea of their marriage grows within the village, encouraged and discussed by neighbours who see it as a natural match. While the final decision is left to the individuals, the ideas are often formed collectively. The villagers observe, comment, and gently push events in certain directions. This communal spirit appears even in everyday problems: when Valinka’s yard becomes flooded by a cesspit accident, the villagers gather, discuss what should be done, and work together to repair the damage. The pros and cons are considered together and then left to the person to make the final choice.

Macondo prefers to enter the global world; the people of Macondo voluntarily choose to entangle themselves in global events. The people of Maran, while still impacted by the tragedies of the world, choose in their daily lives to focus on what they can control: their livestock, their own families, and their friends. They are aware of the world outside, but they are also aware of their own limitations and of how much impact they can realistically make beyond their village.

Macondo is a city of great, bright men. While Ursula fights to keep things together, she is practically the only strong female character in the story. Maran, however, is run by women. Women are the invisible network that connects everything in the village. While not loud and not very visible, they are the ghostwriters of life in Maran - quiet, yet surprisingly strong, hopeful, and humorous. And most importantly very pragmatic.

And this is exactly why Maran, unlike Macondo, has a slim chance to exist. Because women create life, and women believe that life is everywhere. Because resistance is communal. And because one can only impact a few, not the entire world.

Narine Abgaryan doesn’t just write a hopeful and beautiful fairytale to keep our spirits high. Perhaps, she gives us a solution for survival?