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Geopolitics

Essay: The Moroccan Revolution Is On Its Way!

In a public petition to King Mohammed VI, dissident Moroccan writer Abdelhak Serhane urges the monarch to embrace the revolution -- or become its target.

Feb. 20 pro-democracy protests in the Moroccan capital of Rabat
Feb. 20 pro-democracy protests in the Moroccan capital of Rabat
Abdelhak Serhane

Majesty! I wish I didn't have to write to you. But the Arab spring shaking the world is forcing me to. I would rather be writing in praise of a modern and democratic Morocco than dwelling on the evils eating away at it. So much regret, disillusionment, anger -- such waste -- that comes when power meets vanity! The king of the poor, as you were once known, has quickly ceded his place to the businessman king, and an entourage of vile courtesans. We hoped to find in you a head of state who oversaw the application of the law, with a plan for society. We got instead a hotel promoter and construction manager.

We were hoping you would be the man who shared our dreams and our daily bread instead of limiting our freedom, killing the faith we had in you, and thus chasing away the nation's bright minds. It's clear that the monarchy continues to act as it has always done with support of the makhzen (Morocco's ruling elite which bears allegiance to the king).

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Ideas

García Márquez And Truth: How Journalism Fed The Novelist's Fantasy

In his early journalistic writings, the Colombian novelist Gabriel García Márquez showed he had an eye for factual details, in which he found the absurdity and 'magic' that would in time be the stuff and style of his fiction.

Colombian novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez reads his book

J. D. Torres Duarte

BOGOTÁ — In short stories written in the 1940s and early 50s and later compiled in Eyes of a Blue Dog, the late Gabriel García Márquez, Colombia's Nobel Prize-winning novelist, shows he is as yet a young writer, with a style and subjects that can be atypical.

Stylistically, García Márquez came into his own in the celebrated One Hundred Years of Solitude. Until then both his style and substance took an erratic course: touching the brevity of film scripts in Nobody Writes to the Colonel, technical experimentation in Leaf Storm, the anecdotal short novel in In Evil Hour or exploring politics in Big Mama's Funeral. Throughout, the skills he displayed were rather of a precocious juggler.

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