Literary Analysis: “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings”

September 25, 2013 by Bonita Jewel

In “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings,” author Gabriel Garcia

Marquez weaves the natural with the supernatural in an unexpected yet stimulating way. It leaves us to ask

ourselves what our response would if we were confronted with the supernatural right outside our door.

By blending the mundane and repugnant parts of life with the miraculous, Marquez effectively uses a creative tone

and unique style to create a story that conveys elements of everyday life, yet supersedes it. His story invites us, as

readers, to look a little closer at the events in our lives and determine how we are responding to the mundane we

face. He inspires us to take a second glance at the not-quite-normal events that whisper a deeper meaning. His

tale implies that the mingling of mundane with miraculous could change our lives, if we look at them with the

right perspective.

The tone of the story is set in the beginning, with the most natural and unwelcome of occurrences: a sick child in

the midst of drab and inclement weather. In the first few sentences, Marquez’ writing style immediately grabs the

imagination as he writes, “The world had been sad since Tuesday.” In the first paragraph, he then brings in a

magical element by introducing the surreal character of an old man with enormous wings. Marquez immediately

shatters any mindsets we have of powerful and holy angels by placing him face down in the mud and unable to

extricate himself, “impeded by his enormous wings.”

With a hint of irony, we read that the very objects that should have empowered this man to fly above the elements

– his wings – instead hindered him and brought him no end of unwanted attention. This tone of irony is weaved

throughout the story. We see it in the “wise old woman” who determined that the old man with wings was an angel

… and then suggested clubbing him to death. We see it in the wording Marquez chose when he stated that the

husband and wife “felt magnanimous” when they opted to set the angel afloat on a raft with enough food to last

him a few days … “and leave him to his fate on the high seas.”

In parts of the story, the author’s tone conveys a sense of regret that humanity, as a whole, fails to appreciate the

“magic” that is part of our lives. Instead of appreciating an experience and living fully in the moment, we tend to
look at “what’s in it for me”. When the husband and wife, Pelayo and Elisenda, decide to exploit the angel by

having the onlookers pay to see him, this sense of selfishness and greed is apparent. Here, again, we are given the

opportunity to imagine what we might do if faced with a similar situation. No angel is going to fall from the sky into

my yard on a stormy day, but in the daily run of things, how am I using the opportunities presented to me? Gabriel

Garcia Marquez invites us to ask ourselves questions such as these not in a sermon but through a story.

In his unique use of magical realism, Marquez also weaves those natural tendencies of humanity with supernatural

elements, creating scenes that make me want to read the story again, to see if I missed something important. As if

perhaps the magic can spread beyond the pages of the book and into the world around me. For instance, the angel

is so much “man” that Father Gonzaga notices he’s “much too human.” He smells. Everything about him is

opposite of everything we picture as angelic and holy. But when looking closer, angelic character can be glimpsed

in the pages, such as his unending patience. He endures the mistreatment – being locked up with the chickens,

pushed around, poked and prodded. He doesn’t fight back. He waits … almost as if he knows it’s only for a

time. This, if nothing else, is a sign of the angel’s supernatural origin – his bearing in the midst of trauma. Perhaps

we also, in spite of very human and sometimes unsavory circumstances, can manifest attributes of patience and

endurance. The story invites me to determine that it is possible.

Finally, towards the end of the story, the angel’s patience is rewarded. His wings sprout new feathers with the

dawning of spring. The tone and setting of the story match the action. The long and dreary winter is over. New life

is beginning all around, and within. Like the rest of the angel, those new feathers are straggly and unimpressive,

“the feathers of a scarecrow, which look more like another misfortune of decrepitude.”

But they are enough.

He looks to the sky, feels the breeze, and begins to fly, slowly at first but rising higher and eventually disappearing

over the ocean, beyond the blue.

Elisenda watches from the kitchen. We read that “she kept on watching until it was no longer possible for her to

see him, because then he was no longer an annoyance in her life but an imaginary dot on the horizon of the sea.”

What a strange juxtaposition of her emotions against clearly supernatural circumstances. Elisenda is watching an

angel take flight – the same angel that provided her and her husband with enough money to build a two-story

mansion – and she feels nothing but relief that this annoyance is gone. At the end, just as in the beginning, a

normal person is confronted with surreal events, and fails to see it for the amazing happening that it is. Elisenda

likely never truly appreciates the miracle that entered her life unexpectedly and left just as abruptly.

With the tone that the author sets in the ending, we are left to ask yet another question:

How many times do we glance up for a moment, see a glimpse of something beyond the ordinary, and just look

away?
How often are we confronted with something amazing and fail to see it for what it is because we refuse to get past

the question, “What’s in it for me?”

With his use of magical realism, Gabriel Garcia Marquez opens the door to some interesting questions and invites

the reader to not only enter a place of imagination and mystery, but also to look into one’s own thoughts and

actions and see how they measure up against the elements of everyday life.