Toño Azpilcueta, the protagonist of the new novel by Mario Vargas Llosa (Arequipa, 1936), Le dedico mi silencio -which goes on sale today-, is a gray man who, nevertheless, illuminates and redeems his inordinate passion for Peruvian popular music, to the point that, from an amateur position, he dedicates his life to the study of the subject and becomes the most important expert on the subject. Although he has listened to all the performers there can be, one night his life takes a turn when he witnesses the performance of a guitarist as portentous as he is unknown, Lalo Molfino, whose track, however, he immediately loses . The novel traces Azpilcueta's conscientious investigation into the missing musician, and develops the thesis that this musical genre is what truly defines the Peruvian nation. The 2010 Nobel Prize winner answers the questions of this newspaper in writing from his home in Madrid.
One of the most famous sentences in his novels, if not the most famous one (“¿En qué momento se había jodido el Peru, Zavalita?”), could have its counterpoint here, since this fiction shows just the opposite: at what moment was Peru able to unite, with that explosion of joy and union between social and ethnic classes that popular music meant? Is it an optimistic novel?
It depends on the point of view from which you look at it. I believed that, given what happened to Toño Azpilcueta, the failure from the editorial point of view and the loss of interest in ideals that he was passionate about, the novel had pessimistic edges. But it depends on which side you choose. It is true that the union between social classes and ethnicities that popular music brought about is an optimistic vision of Peru, and also a yearning. Hopefully it will be like this and all the barriers that exclude and separate equals will be demolished.
We learn, while reading it, what huachafería is, something that would be a mistake to reduce to mere cursileria, since you cover the concept of a deeper entity. How do we explain to a Spanish reader what it means?
Effectively, the huachafería is deeper than the cursileria. And it is in the spirit and the word of all Peruvians, without exception. It would be necessary to explain to the Spanish that, around certain words, an epidermis has been built that everyone goes through, that rubs it. The explanation is more complicated than the word huachafa. It has to do with cultural and social mixing, miscegenation, a certain middle class that emerges from below and whose tastes permeate the rest.
Toño Azpilcueta is not a good dancer. On the other hand, you, as a young man, were part of a folk music group. Could you remind us of this experience: what was their performance, what repertoire did they have...?
It was in Madrid in the fifties. In order to participate in a competition, some Peruvian friends formed a folkloric group to which a Spanish friend was added. To save form, we forbade him to speak so they wouldn't discover his origin. He, very respectful, obeyed to the letter, although he learned many of our idioms, and was, of course, mute during the whole period of our adventure. We played and danced marineras, resbalosas, huaynitos and zamacuecas and got a fourth place which led us to dance and sing in many bullrings in Spain. I sang softly so as not to create chaos with my colleagues.
Does the utopia of this novel in which music appears as something that can unite the Peruvian nation bear any resemblance to what, in the 1970s and 1970s, entailed the so-called Latin American boom?
No, it has nothing to do with it. The utopia of the novel, that music can integrate the Peruvian nation, is a fantasy that could become reality if the Peruvians were encouraged. Because all of us, be they nobles or patacalas like me, we feel as one with the magic of music, that we are part of it, and dancers, of course, and that's how we go. But I dare not predict anything, only wish that a union between races is a very real fact. The boom of the novel had a Latin American significance, the idea of Creole music as a social binder has to do specifically with Peru.
Did you invent some of the songs that appear in the novel?
I did not invent the songs that appear in the novel. They belong to the richest tradition of our folklore, including those of the Old Guard and others from later. They are selected with affection and taste to present in the novel a sample of what the rich Peruvian music contains. I've never composed songs and I'm totally denied singing, but I've always liked listening to her.
His character compares the Spanish conquest with the English one and concludes that the former had some advantages. Which ones would you highlight?
The English was not a conquest, but an indiscriminate slaughter. There were many Peruvians and the Spanish rather tried to instrumentalize them and made them work for them. This created a parasitic class, which we very much regret existing. But the Spanish conquest was rather benign compared to the English one. There were many deaths, no doubt, but it has always been reflected that some members of the Church, such as Friar Bartolomé de las Casas, and the kings of Spain protected the Indians, and it is an idea that still prevails among the Peruvian people .
Do you share Toño Azpilcueta's contradictions about bullfighting?
Yes, I share Toño Azpilcueta's contradictions about the festival of the bulls. I like bulls very much, I am a fan and defender of keeping alive the tradition that for me is an art, and, moreover, I am aware of how many Andean peoples collected, absorbed in a different way, part of the tradition; but I have also always thought that there is a barbaric aspect to this festival that reaches back to the origins of Europe.
Think, like Toño Azpilcueta, that the world is better with religion than without?
Yes, I think the world is better with religion than without, because the vast majority of human beings cannot live without the idea of a paradise and an afterlife. Religion, when practiced in a non-fanatic way, has a civilizing effect on human relations.
The end of the book is sad, not so much because of the fictional story, which is very funny, but because of the announcement you make in a note: why do you say that this will be your last novel? Is your strength failing?
This was a note I made to myself, a thought, and I never intended it to be an ad, but they suggested I leave it and it stayed there. I'm 87 years old, and although I'm an optimist, I don't think I'll live that long to work and write another novel, especially if I think I'll write them in three or four years. But I will never stop working and hopefully the forces will accompany me to the end to achieve it. Now I'm stumped to write something essayistic about Sartre, who was very influential at one stage of my life.
