Use?
D'Eusebio.
Lahoz?
A surname from Aragon.
But you're from Barcelona.
And Barcelona beats in everything I've written. Five novels. Oh, the novel...
What?
You write it with expectations of the future but you are organized by the past.
What expectations?
will i finish it Will it be published? Will it be read? Will you like it? What a rare job.
And organize the past, he says?
It orders it and gives it meaning.
What has he learned from his past?
That I was a free verse, spars.
Define free verse.
It doesn't rhyme. It doesn't fit. It goes free, against the current... I know what I'm talking about.
Because?
I studied Humanities because one day Montserrat Roig's son said to me: "They teach how to write". Then I didn't fit in any job, partner, society... And I ran away!
On?
In Italy, then in Uruguay, then in Cuba, then in the Alpujarra, and in Paris...
What did you learn from so much travel?
Traveling changes you, reading changes you, but the people you meet change you more.
Which person has changed it the most?
My uncle Pablo: he guided me in reading, music... I learned to look through art. But one day he went on a journey.
On?
He went into exile in Mexico. I was nine years old. I suffered so much to lose him! On the headboard of my bed was his photo and his address: Mesones 36, Manzana 10, Lote 37.
Did you write to him?
Writing him letters made me a writer.
What kind of writer?
Memory is my guide.
And the trip?
It takes me from surprise to surprise, to the eternal beginning that is, for me, happiness.
Unhappiness, then, what is it?
Feeling bored, without curiosity.
And culture fuels curiosity.
Yes, Uncle Pablo taught me to be happy.
Maybe that's why you've traveled so much.
And I ended up in Paris teaching a subject on exile and "de-exile".
"Desexili", what is it?
You return to the place you left... and it's no longer the place you left. But exile, for others, can be bright, be creative!
What is your Paris like?
It can be cold, gray, hard, hostile... It is imperfect... and unending for culture.
A little out of control, today.
It is the capital of the country of the revolution!
Are you still writing?
The childhood ball has become a page to write on: it is my way of continuing to be a child, of playing, of being free.
Did he write poetry?
I was reckless when I was young, yes, but it wouldn't occur to me today. Poetry is the greatest art, reserved for forces of nature: Federico García Lorca, Miguel Hernández, César Vallejo, Claudio Rodríguez...
What is writing?
A possibility to amend life and an emotional surrender.
To what end?
Culture, beauty, art, knowledge are, for the rich, whim or entertainment, game. For the poor, life preserver, refuge, desperately needed, true truth.
Is that your case?
I couldn't live with my back to beauty. I give myself to literature in despair.
What does he explain in his latest novel?
That in the face of carnal desire, it is better to go to it, even if it hurts later.
Is it a good deal?
If life calls you, don't be absent! Better to have tried life.
In the head pool, then?
Better to regret what you did than what you didn't do.
Which page did you get embroidered on?
The one from the mani from Plaça Universitat with a dirty girl who goes as a pauper.
What else does it explain?
That pleasure has its ages: the pleasure of friendship, carnal pleasure, the pleasure of knowledge... and the pleasure of writing!
where is mou now?
I have distributed myself in all the characters.
Satisfactorily?
Three years settling accounts with the past, writing, rectifying... Is it time taken advantage of or is it wasted time?
I don't know, you will say.
It is love of art. A sweet condemnation. Because it is not a materially profitable business, there is only emotional profitability.
And what is his turn now?
stop writing Yes, I wish I could give up the need to write... Stop writing, stop writing... that impossible dream!
