This is the story of entire generations of a family, up to the moment they settle in a new land and 'til the bloodline's demise. The Buendía family is definitely something, but I wouldn't say they're a role model (nor does the author portray them as such). Misfortune after misfortune happens to them and it can feel quite fatalist at times, a sort of Colombian Lemony Snicket, but with more incest. There's a lot of characters and the fact that they're named the same had me checking the Family Tree every five pages and even then I'm sure I attributed a plot point to the wrong Aureliano -which I guess is a clever way to force you to immerse in the story and be as lost as all the other Buendías.
In the end that's what this is, a clever book, marvelously crafted with exquisite prose, but deeply disturbing and depressing. I do not agree with GGM's worldview here and the whole Oedipus Complex trope seemed to point at Shakespearean levels of tragedy, but where my man Willy didn't take himself too seriously, GGM does this sad boi act which made me dislike his books in the first place. Appreciate the art, but won't be re-reading it soon, nor recommending it to nobody.