Antonio Gálvez Alcaide: Diary Network

How do you feel about the current narrative? The answer is quite simple. The actual narrative is shit. Asepsis is the dominant doodle. No infections. All sweetened. No word over another. All storytellers alike, as stupid casts. Some of them with the filly to have a marketing operation descaradísima. All dominated by the big boss, the great matador, the big screen, the great manipulator cultural publishing companies, despite the redundancy.

The current publishers have as a slogan for the narrative, the demise of the literary record. They know that literature is based on an infamous speech, they despise, unhealthy as its presumed value for money. As notorious believe that language goes against their interests, I have loaded. Pity the fools who have the hope that any publishing company take today as a novelty, a Quevedo, a Valle-Inclan , a Juan Rulfo, a Cela in its early decades. So thick is the band of these dreamers that allows them to distinguish the novel narrative offered by publishing companies, for about forty years, is inserted into the registration information of the language (that of newspapers, books of text), not in the literary register? The current publishers believe that readers beforehand, the buyers of their products, are assholes. They believe in advance that today's readers can not understand, appreciate and sensitized with a new narrative close to the height of a Quevedo, a Valle-Inclan, a Juan Rulfo, a Cela before falling into dotage. For this and are paperbacks of the same writers, right? Well take at ass literary evolution of a country. At least in Spain, we have been between forty or fifty years without literary evolution. The publishers, with its taboos, may mirror most of the taboos of society to which they are addressed, "are to blame. No word on top of another current in the narrators. All information in a record that no ruffles. So it seems incredible that the narrators present empirically know the pain of a kick in the mouth or eggs, or you know the next-door neighbor literally made mincemeat of her baby, or the option to fit whatever you need a meticulous description, literary, producing sensual blush, alarm, panic, disgust in the reader. All aseptic. Nothing notorious. Delay literary nearly fifty years.

But all oppression ends to find their way out, like water. Nazism fell. Communism collapsed. In literary terms, the main tool that will take out the literary poverty of any country called the Internet, a tool that has come, will happen to the twenty-first century, a tool used exclusively major literary talent of any country, some people absolutely freed from the publishers, dictators always parameters, because they themselves are individual and enterprise, individual letters furiously scanned, some writers continued to expand to the four winds, the thousands of hacks, the value of individuality literature, the message that each boat hold your candle. As in every century, storytellers that will last is quantified as a dropper. But will that is important. Come out.

Text belonging to the book SUNDAY ARTICLES

*

LETTER TO YOUNG WRITERS

FOREWORD

When I wrote my first story Hispano, "Hedwig Lindavista ', exactly twenty years ago, in August 1989, my daughter did not know that Hedwig would lead to a whole book of content and form, landscapes and Hispanic-American spirit. At that time, the Spanish language was far from America, very remote, the Hispanic landscape breathing vivid, completely alien, that set of countries overseas, with the establishment of brutal and miserable many of their governments, both past and present. The only thing that I found on that world was innate ability to connect with the souls of the Hispanic characters of my own invention, some souls locked in parallel frameworks, recognizable, certain Latin American realities. So through my own characters, I was aware of a deep sensitivity to what is and means Latin America. Since then I was interested in its past, present, future, almost as much as the reality of my own country. Certainly there is a link between Latin America and Spain.

As I say, I could not escape the dramatic power of these people, to the massive beast of its landscapes. It seemed that my first Hispanic character, the girl Hedwig, a daughter, seven years dead "in the odor of holiness, a holy child, pulled my hand with its powerful energy that enlivened my intuition narrative tone that transformed my Spanish language in the key American language, for which no records disdained many uses and Andalusians. In the torrent of imaginative narrative that struck me, which took six years between periods of dozing and agitation enthusiast, I was not alone. The literary tradition, with its impressive strength, pulled me almost as much as the girl Hedwig. There are three names: Juan Rulfo, Gabriel García Márquez and Ramón María del Valle-Inclán . Here are the three authors who pushed me, which represented at that time an entire peak chilling sound and writer. Why hide it. My intention was to match or surpass the impressive literary work of the three great masters above. We should not laugh at my want. One was young and had the filly always stiff. So my boldness is encompassing in that context, that of the innocence that youth brings. What three great writers. Within registration Hispanic, the largest, and by far, is Juan Rulfo, which took the form, substance, poetry, narrative courage in the mass of blood.

This edition of Tales of candor and a bloody fire is the second. This is a revised edition, revised and expanded, as would the writers. In its ten stories, only two were awarded literary prizes. And that was because with the innocence of youth, the writers sent their works to compete, by checking what they do with a certain morbid fascination with them. Were awarded the accounts' Hedwig Lindavista ", in Teruel Short Story First Prize in October 1989, just two months after its end, and" Justinita the idolized ", which was Silver Piggy Bank in 1993, in the XXVIII Competition Golden Tales Piggy Tales of murderous fire and candor . You are here its second edition. Many years without diving, again, in environments of my creation. I must confess that when I read the first of his stories, to the galleys, it gave me goose bumps with the description of the birth of the girl Hedwig. You have to see what the writers are capable of writing guided by the proud leadership of her youth, poison the sound that lets you try to emulate the great achievements of the great masters.

Here affixes the second edition, twenty years just after the end of his first story, ten years after my other characters, Hurtado Salvador, the protagonist of the novel 's solo , his dream to the holy child, a subject that made me think about whether the girl Hedwig, just a story and the occasional role in the saga of their stories could merit its own novel. All a matter that I was overwhelmed by the colossal size of the enormous difficulties involved. It is true that one never knows what one writer can give him. But today, you know exactly what time availability gives a burn time of minutes, the curl, a time which makes me realize the impossibility of overcoming, on the holy child, what I have already written.

The Father, The Pages, August 8, 2009

José Pla. I have to say I know very well that his first name is Josep eskribe, what happens is that they rarely sounds like pronunciation in Catalan. This happens to me is called linguistic prejudices. As we see in the picture, with his beret on, José Pla looks like a total village. It seems that it is going to hit a post with a goat. Well, nothing further from reality. This summer I've read letters from afar, some articles eskritos before our civil war, quite modern. From what I understand, José Pla went to solitude. How could he be the author traveled and most European of all? Haunted by a tube with José Pla. Soon you fasten the tooth to the Grey Notebook. Nunka have not seen him on TV, but according to an article by my cow Galvez is a video tape for sale on an interview he once did. If I want that tape, I find. Fixed.

Juan Rulfo, Juan Rulfo, Juan Rulfo. Ah, what a pity me da! I do not know if you cherish the most mature. Eskribió Only two books, one novel and a storybook. I do not know which one to settle. A genius that escapes me because of my extremely urban character. I am very city and the local vocabulary of Mexico as it catches me a bit far away. Juan Rulfo, a genius of poetry in the narrative, a man who eskribió only two books and gave him the Cervantes Prize and is translated around the world. How cool! Sure I appreciate more with age.

My sacred cows

Charles Bukowski. This eskritor said he would love to reach eighty years for kid fucking eighteen. And I have now nearly eighteen. It is so great this asker alcoholic who recognize that I would throw it without hesitation. He said of himself that he had bent to the left cock. Do morbo! It was a no eskritor most of his life.

Text belonging to the novel called HOT (p. 24).

A box advertisement in a newspaper occupies the entire width of the paper. Gabriel García Márquez appears with his arms crossed. Image of spontaneity.

Initial intro. Text diary RED 2004-2006