I’ve read “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” the Nobel Prize-winning novel by Gabriel García Márquez, six times: three in Spanish and three in English. It’s the book that made me want to be a writer. It will always connect me to the Latin American Caribbean and, as someone who identifies with a cultural legacy beyond the borders of the United States, made me feel seen.
‘Cien Años de Soledad’ is sacred, and I wasn’t sure Netflix would understand that.
So, when I heard about the “One Hundred Years of Solitude” series premiering on Netflix on Wednesday, Dec. 11, I was skeptical. “Cien Años de Soledad” is sacred. It’s sacred to so many people, and I wasn’t sure Netflix would understand that.
“I don’t want Netflix to tell me what Colonel Aureliano Buendía looks like. I’ve always imagined he looks like my grandfather. As every Colombian has,” literature professor Gustavo Arango told Vanity Fair.
The thought of attempting to adapt its brilliance to the screen immediately gave me pause. With good reason — this is one of the most significant literary works ever written. Its layers, themes and worlds are not easily translated into visual works. Even Gabo himself, as García Márquez was lovingly known, believed that no adaptation could truly capture the novel’s essence. It would take 100 hours to tell the story properly, he said.
But the decision wasn’t his to make. After Gabo’s passing in 2014 and that of his wife, Mercedes Barcha, in 2020, the fate of an adaptation fell to their sons, Rodrigo and Gonzalo. Ultimately, they gave their blessing.
Remarkably, the first eight episodes of the 16-episode series succeed. Netflix and production company Dynamo must have known that the stakes were high and that adapting this cherished novel into a series was a task they couldn’t afford to get wrong. Imagine the reaction if this adaptation hadn’t delivered. It would have been a disaster for Netflix, and for those of us who consider Gabo’s work sacred, it would have felt like a betrayal.
The adaptation isn’t a page-for-page interpretation of the novel, and it was never meant to be. While some will always bring up this critique as proof that the novel should have just been left alone, the Netflix series offers something else entirely: countless moments of brilliance that prove creating art from other works of art is still possible.
The Netflix series offers countless moments of brilliance that prove creating art from other works of art is still possible.
“One Hundred Years of Solitude” tells the sweeping, multigenerational saga of the Buendía family in the fictional Colombian town of Macondo. It’s a story about love, ambition, resilience and the cyclical nature of history. From the founding of Macondo by José Arcadio Buendía and Úrsula Iguarán to the eventual unraveling of their family over generations, the novel, and now the Netflix series, explore themes of time, loneliness and memory, all woven together with moments that blur the lines between reality and myth. It is one of the most human works of art ever produced, in that it reveals our condition as imperfect beings trying to navigate life.
“Muchos años después, frente al pelotón de fusilamiento, el coronel Aureliano Buendía había de recordar aquella tarde remota en que su padre lo llevó a conocer el hielo.” (“Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.”)
That, to me, is the greatest beginning of any book ever written in either the original Spanish or the translated English. The series grounds the visual story with that opening line and draws the viewer in.
'One Hundred Years of Solitude' Review: Netflix's Gorgeous, Ambitious Adaptation Captures Some of the Novel's Magic https://t.co/SWGISflcKr The choice to film in Colombia and in Spanish might sound obvious, but it was a nonnegotiable. A reluctant Gabo still insisted that these two conditions would need to be met. For a viewer to truly embrace this adaptation, you have to watch it in the original language. We are talking, here, about the greatest novel in the history of the Spanish-speaking world. If you’re a non-Spanish speaker, subtitles will be your friend. Watching a dubbed version would strip away something essential. Grounding the series in the land and language that birthed the story wasn’t just a creative choice — it was a necessity. It’s what allows the series to step into the shadow of the novel and still hold its own. There is no question that the Netflix series gives fans a new layer they never could have imagined. The characters in Gabo’s novel are iconic and deeply embedded in the culture. Seeing them come to life on screen might have felt strange, but this is where the production truly delivers. Marleyda Soto, as the older Úrsula Iguarán, embodies the character’s resilience and quiet strength. Claudio Cataño’s portrayal of Colonel Aureliano Buendía is equally compelling, capturing both the arrogance of power and the profound solitude of a man who has lost his purpose. Marco Antonio González gives José Arcadio Buendía a blend of ambition and vulnerability that resonates with anyone who has dared to dream and faced the consequences when those dreams unravel. These performances, along with that of the entire ensemble, give this adaptation its heart. The performances of the entire ensemble give this adaptation its heart. It’s inevitable that the adaptation of a literary work with so little dialogue would, at moments, veer away from the original. But any time the adaptation feels as if it might lose its way, the omniscient narrator’s voice pulls it back. Gabo is always with us in this series, reminding us that his opus is already familiar, already part of us. For my circle of friends — children of Latin America and the Caribbean — this novel unites us. “Cien Años” is our oxygen. The fact that this adaptation didn’t ruin that connection speaks to the care that went into its creation. Some masterpieces can thrive in new forms without losing their soul. I never thought I’d say that. As I wrote in The Latino Newsletter, after I watched the first season of the Netflix series, I began reading “Cien Años” — for the seventh time.
Julio Ricardo Varela is the founder of "The Latino Newsletter" and co-editor of "Pressing Issues from Free Press." 
