of using his mind death consciousness, sting, emptiness, stupor. Over the years, when everything is already known, the first trace of news does not end to soften, and then life goes on, continues to tell you is over Again and again, and again and again the influences come nearer to you, until one after another they come to where you are, or very close.
Because of the job I have chosen, as chance can be more than a lifetime, I had to meet, apart from my close relatives, people very sensible and hilariously unappreciated, who had a connection with them. The the pressarts, or literatureAnd at some point, too, I had to be really close to them until death.
The editing profession, which was my second job, made me a friend or Book introduction or from their fellows, and age or accident separated them from the living with varying degrees of regret or sorrow, but always as if the kinds of daggers which chance or nature had kept were not so different that one after another left behind different ways of saying. Good-bye.
In recent years, and not only because life gives more warnings of its own, because the epidemic, for example, has been distributing swords similar to those blows that Cesar Vallejo spoke of when referring to death, we have lost in different professions People who are very important to our emotionsI don’t know why some of these losses came to my mind and soul today.
As if by chance, like love or other circumstances, some nouns and others came successively, and I don’t want to have the opportunity to remember them till I miss them, for one often does not remember or misremember some proper nouns time after time approaching our obscure ear which is that that warns us of forgetfulness.
It has been happening in my case for a long time: I know someone who is sick or in pain, and I can’t stop remembering herAs if this memory will relieve him of a bad or unexpected future. I remember, among the reported disappearances that came later, as confirmation of a spark that the friend himself had foreseen, sickness, aggravation, and then death Juan Garcia Hortelano, On the first of 1992, when I was a special envoy for the Seville Expo. He developed an aggravation of his lung disease, and he told our friends what his symptoms consisted of, and we got to know his doctor, the doctor who helped him in the most serious operation, and when the deterioration was already irreversible, after a few years of hope, our friends told each other what condition Juan was in, which We liked it very much. One day in April, I called him home from the airport in Seville, and there they told me there was nothing more to do, and hope was gone as a blow.
A year later it happened with Juan BennettWho might have been his strongest friend for a long time or a short time List of Spanish writers of post-war heritage. One day I saw him at the Cock, where we all went, he filled some porous coasters with others (he wrote his favorite color on one, charcoal gray) His unbalanced, perfect handwriting.
Months later, he warned us of the nature of evil. We never wanted to believe that this would be the outcome, but soon the glasses we had hoped for began to shatter, and Juan left. As years later, he also left the people of his farm, such as Juan Marcy, Carmina Martín Gaete, Rafael Sánchez Virlosio, Jose Saramago or what do i know, Juan Carlos Onetti or Carlos Parral, whom we admired not only for what he did for literature but also for having abandoned even those he had reclaimed for future geniuses.
This deposit of farewell has modern proper names, such as noun Raul Guerra Garridopharmacist and novelist, persecuted in his homeland, marked also by misfortune, by those who did not want him, to ostracism from which literary justice did not exempt him, and he is not always poetic but everything else.
In the preceding months that was the real, terrible tendency of secession much smaller (Almudena Grandes, Javier Marías) The fame that the ending gives to human stories. Both were driven out by love and separation, because differing in their writing, and, of course, in their mode of existence, they were uprooted from a time when a contribution equal to or greater than that which they actually made was still to be expected. The hope with which they created, from their youth, a work of literature now flourishes in memory, with farewells, where admiration and libraries have much to do.
In Almudena’s case, she learned from her editors, and from her family, what the diagnosis is and what the future of evil in which time turns into is. The cruelty of death. In this case, I called her when she still didn’t know how serious it was, and little by little those good wishes or news I sent her were answered with joy that even emojis allowed her, until there was silence what happened and when. November penultimate ended.
A few months later, news began to circulate, arriving too late for me, that Javier Marías, heir, among others, to Hortelano and Bennett of the old story, was seriously ill. At first I thought it was exaggeration, gossip, but when three people actually told me, and three times each, I no longer had reason to believe that these premonitions were not like gossip about nonsense, but rather Judgment made due to bad luck. In this case, I traveled with sheets of his literature, as if this collection is a tribute and a wish for life.
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Then what must have happened happened, in one case or the other, and in many different cases with different people, from that sector through which I traveled and from many others with affection or news, and I always felt lonelier and more angry, then I never understood death And I never gave up on losing those I interacted with and from whom I learned.
So to speak, My biggest worry in life It is not knowing how to embrace those I love and those I have loved, and that is why I was realizing today that I had to write once and for all why, since I was right, I am incapable of the contempt that lives within us and that is called oblivion.
