​On the anniversary of my mother’s birth I binge-watched the first 8 episodes of One Hundred Years of Solitude. Appropriate somehow because of the importance of Úrsula, the main mother in the book and Netflix series. Sadly, I will have to wait a year before getting to see the last 8 episodes. Only then will I make a final judgment on the adaptation, but my initial impressionist that it is fine indeed. I love it that the series opening, even before we get to the novel’s great first sentence about General Aureliano Buendía standing before the firing squad and remembering seeing ice for the first time, is cribs from the end of the novel but presented in such a way that the person who has not read the novel will not quite understand what is going on.

'Twas the knight before Christmas