The narrator uses both allusion and personification to characterize the troubled mental state of Rebeca after a significant period of isolation following her banishing form the Buendía household:
[She] moved in an atmosphere of Saint Elmo’s fire, in a stagnant air where one could still note a hidden smell of gunpowder [...] she had found peace in that house where memories materialized through the strength of implacable evocation and walked like human beings through the cloistered rooms. Leaning back in her wicker rocking chair, looking at Colonel Aureliano Buendía as if he were the one who looked like a ghost out of the past, Rebeca was not even upset by the news that the lands usurped by José Arcadio would be returned to their rightful owners.
First, the narrator notes that Rebeca moves as if “in an atmosphere of Saint Elmo’s fire,” alluding to an unusual meteorological condition which is often mistaken for a supernatural phenomenon. This allusion, then, underscores the otherworldly qualities of Rebeca, who is surrounded by her own distinct “atmosphere.” Next, the narrator describes Rebecca’s memories as walking “like human beings through cloistered rooms.” Rebeca’s house, then, is filled with cherished memories that walk around in a distinctly human manner, suggesting that Rebeca is content to live in a world of memories and therefore feels no need to leave the building.
When describing Aureliano’s life after the war and the solitary habits which he begins to develop after becoming profoundly disillusioned with humanity, the narrator personifies the concept of solitude:
Taciturn, silent, insensible to the new breath of vitality that was shaking the house, Colonel Aureliano Buendía could understand only that the secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude. He would get up at five in the morning after a light sleep, have his eternal mug of bitter coffee in the kitchen, shut himself up all day in the workshop, and at four in the afternoon he would go along the porch dragging a stool, not even noticing the fire of the rosebushes [...] and he would sit in the street door as long as the mosquitoes would allow him to.
Here, the narrator describes Aureliano as making an “honorable pact with solitude,” as if solitude were a human figure who could be negotiated or bargained with. There is a particular irony to this act of personification, as Aureliano has signed numerous pacts and deals with other parties as leader of the rebel faction in the civil war. Now, he simply wishes to put the war behind him and to be left alone, but even this desired solitude is imagined by the narrator as yet another "pact."
Following a common literary and religious convention, Márquez personifies the abstract concept of Death as a human-like figure in his portrayal of Amaranta’s final days:
[Death] had awarded her the privilege of announcing itself several years ahead of time. She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school. She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair, with a sort of antiquated look [...] Fernanda was present several times and did not see her, in spite of the fact that she was so real, so human, and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of threading a needle.
By the time that death comes for Amaranta, she has been preparing to die for many years, diligently sewing funeral shrouds for herself and for her long-estranged adopted sister Rebeca. Here, Márquez personifies the concept of death, imagining death as "a woman dressed in blue with long hair" and old-fashioned clothing. Death sits with Amaranta as she sews on the porch and even asks her for help with "threading a needle." Here, this distinctly personified treatment of death underscores Amaranta's acceptance of death, as they sit together like old friends.