English Interviews with Najat El Hachmi and Teresa Solana

Note: apparently I thought I posted this sometime ago, so it may seem a little old news.

The CBC’s Writers and Company is running an excellent series on Spanish writers. Eleanor Wachtel interviews two Catalan writers, Najat El Hachmi and Teresa Solana. I  don’t know Teresa Solana’s works, but I once saw Najat El Hachmi on El Publico Lee (it was the first episode I ever watched) and thought her book was interesting, as was her story. The interview of both of them lasts an hour and talks about what it means to be Catalan and a writer from a language with around 7 million speakers. Najat El Hachmi mentioned, too, like immigrants to the English language, her writing often takes Catalan in directions that native speakers might not go. Of course, in translation we’ll never see that. Each of them have works translated in English, so if you like what you hear you can read their books.

Women and Writing in Spain: Esther Tusquets, Laura Freixas and María Ángeles Cabré in Conversation

Nostromo has an excellent episode with Esther Tusquets, Laura Freixas and María Ángeles Cabré where they talk about the state of writing  by women in Spain. It is not a secret that writing by women in Spain tends to be less valued by many different criteria: numbers published, appearance on best of lists, prizes. Freixas has some interesting numbers: 70 percent of degrees in letters go to women, but only 20 percent of books are published by women, only 10 percent of prizes are awarded to women, and only 6 percent of the Cevervantes prize have gone to women. They went on to discus what are the mindsets that lead to this disparity. Freixas noted that writing by women is often portrayed as women’s writing, but writing by men is writing about the human condition. She had a great example of the strange distinction that is often made. Moby Dick which doesn’t have an women characters, is not called men’s literature, but a book that has all women as characters is (I believe she had an example but I can’t remember it). The interview with Tusquets is interesting, too, because she was an editor in addition to being a writer and has a good perspective on the subject.

Bernardo Atxaga and Juan Cruz Interviewed on Writers and Company

For the last episode of her excellent series on writers in Spain, Wtirers and Company interviews Bernardo Atxaga and Juan Cruz. Her conversation with Atxaga, a Basque writer, is definitely worth since that language doesn’t have a lot of exposure. I didn’t know much about its literary history and I was quite surprised to hear what he had to say. Cruz’s interview is interesting in a literary history sense. He explains the last 40 years of Spanish history and what that has meant for literature.

A Review of Catalan Short Story Writer Sergi Pàmies’s La bicicleta estática

Letras Libres has a favorable review of Catalan short story writer Sergi Pàmies’s new book La bicicleta estática (the Static Bicycle). Although they compare his style to Carver, Moore, and Wolf, something in my book isn’t such a good thing, the stories themselves sound a more interesting. Nothing of his is in English and I didn’t find out about him until I caught an episode of Nostromo recently and was intrigued. The stories have some fantastical elements, although quite a few sound more straight forward. He plays with the autobiographical, having characters that resemble the author, even if the story is not  autobiographical.

Los cuentos de La bicicleta estática funcionan como variaciones de un número reducido de temas entre los que, como puede verse, destacan las relaciones disfuncionales, los fracasos amorosos y la muerte de quienes amamos, temas que los editores de Pàmies han llamado en la contraportada del libro “los naufragios y desconciertos de la madurez”, en una atribución ratificada por el propio autor al sostener en una entrevista reciente que son los temas más recurrentes en ese período de la vida que tiene lugar “una vez que has comprobado que la felicidad es efímera y, en general, muy poco fiable”. En esa misma entrevista, Pàmies hacía explícito el carácter autobiográfico de algunos de sus relatos, que aparece ratificado por la elección en la mayor parte de ellos de lo que vulgarmente denominamos la “primera persona”, y lo vinculaba a la llegada de la madurez.
A este solipsismo vinculado con la creación de personajes que (sin la pretensión de esclarecer cuánto hay de autobiográfico en sus peripecias) tienen la misma edad, una profesión similar e incluso la misma apariencia física que su autor, Pàmies le suma dos relatos fantásticos que abundan explícita y cómicamente en la necesidad de profundizar en el conocimiento de uno mismo: en el primero de ellos, “Benzodiazepina”, un hombre decide encontrarse consigo mismo tras haber estado chateando con él durante varias semanas; el encuentro acaba con los dos personajes (que son él mismo) prometiéndose un encuentro que harán todo lo posible por evitar. En “Supervivencia”, un hombre inicia una expedición en busca de las respuestas que supuestamente se encontrarían en su interior, pero descubre que este es un armario vacío y agobiante y huye de sí mismo por un agujero. Ambos relatos ofrecen una imagen devastadora de los abismos de la personalidad, pero La bicicleta estática no es un libro oscuro. Pàmies es honesto y profundo, pero nunca abandona la ligereza y la ironía, a las que suma una gran capacidad de observación y un talento particular para la ternura. La austeridad formal de sus relatos parece aquí puesta al servicio de la exuberancia imaginativa y vincula los relatos del autor catalán con los de Raymond Carver, Tobias Wolff y Lorrie Moore, por mencionar solo tres ejemplos. Al igual que los personajes de estos tres autores, los de Pàmies se aferran a unas certezas de las que en realidad desconfían pero que retienen por ser las únicas que poseen realmente; en ese sentido, tal vez el único personaje feliz del libro sea aquel al que “como le han extirpado la nostalgia, no le pesa la inercia hacia unos recuerdos alterados por el poder transformador de la memoria. Como no tiene esperanza, no invierte ninguna energía en proyectarse hacia un futuro improbable. Liberado de la dulzura física y anímica que tanto le torturaba […], saborea su saliva, felizmente insípida” (77). No hay ninguna heroicidad en ello, pero tal vez sí la haya en la forma en que Pàmies practica en este y en otros relatos excepcionales proezas narrativas; es lo que sucede en “Un año de perro equivale a siete años de persona”, en el que un perro y un cerdo destruyen involuntariamente sus relaciones de pareja por consolarse mutuamente y de forma alternativa, y en “Tres maneras de no decir te quiero”, que narra la supuesta incapacidad de un autor para escribir una historia de amor entre el amor correspondido y el amor no correspondido e incluye dos textos que prueban que la supuesta incapacidad no lo era realmente.

Granta Youngsters Live: Barba, Olmos, Montes at Elliott Bay Books 5/16/2011

I had the opportunity to see Andres Barba, Alberto Olmos, and Javier Montes at Elliott Bay Book Co in Seattle. It is one of only two stops on the west coast and one of only 6 stops on their tour, so we were quite lucky. We were elected at the last moment because like the other stops we have one of Spain’s Instituto Cervantes in Seattle and they were sponsoring the tour.

The event started at 7ish and the first author didn’t start until 7:30 thanks to everyone who needed to introduce the authors. I don’t get what it is with people who have to go on, one after another with introductions that drone on. Rick from Elliot Bay always gives introductions and that is fine. Then came one of the editors of the edition and that was interesting to some degree, although it was mostly about the purpose of the magazine and not the specific edition, and finally came a professor from the UW who was selected to introduce them, but it was obvious he had done little more that read the bio in the book. What’s the point there?

Javier Montes, when he finally had a chance to speak, said that his piece was the opening of a novel that he had not gotten very far with. He said he had only finished the week before, so the reader, like him, should wonder what is coming.

Barba said his piece came to him when he was writing the prize winning essay, Ceromonia de Porno, with Montes. He heard a bout a French porn star who became obsessed with plastic surgery and had so man it hurt her to sleep. She began fantasizing about having a horn place on her forehead. I can’t say that makes the story in more interesting.

Olmos’ piece is also part of an unfinished novel that he has been blocked on. He went on to say he writes mostly autobiographical works. Two of his novels are about his time living in Japan. For him, it is neither charter or plot that interests him, but ideas. You can see that in his story I think.

Unfortunately, after that first round of comments, David Gueterson spoke. I don’t blame him for his awkward performance, but who ever invited him. He was supposed to be some sort of bridge between cultures because he has been translated into Spanish. He talked for a while, telling jokes about his translation experience and passing out copies of Snow Falling on Cedars in different languages. I think it was at this time I wish we had one presenter. What ever the merits of a conversation of translation, this was not the way to approach it. It was a bizarre performance to see Guterson talk, while the featured guests just sat there. The only thing he said that really felt interesting is he said American writers are really dedicated to something Akin to craft, and these writers and those in Spain were dedicated to the new.

On the subject of translation they all liked their translations. Montes said he is a pick translator and likes things as exact as is possible. But he knows that translation changes things. He said, he read his piece in English and said it wasn’t exactly what he had written, but he could like the guy who wrote it.

Barba said he likes everything that is translated of his and isn’t too picky. Then he went on to tell a story about when he was in Syria and a man said, I’m going to translate your book. Barba said, it has lots of prostitutes, and the man said, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. When the book came out, he had a friend read it and he said the prostitutes had been changed to tailors.

Olmos on the other had has been little translated and has been happy with the Granta experience because it gives him more exposure.

An awkward question came up about academy Spanish and colloquial Spanish. While it was quickly pointed out there isn’t a correct Spanish,  Olmos said that the younger generation using a more standard Spanish so they can get published in Spain. It was the McDonaldization of Spanish. Montes didn’t care so much. Olmos went on to say that is what he most likes and reads Colombians because everything they write has style.

Finally, there was wine afterwards and a chance to talk to the authors one on one. Montes said Onetti was his biggest influence and the best author in Spanish of the 20th century. I asked Olmos if Japan had influenced his writing, but other that the two books no. I didn’t have a chance to go much farther into it. And I asked Barba what El Publico Lee is like, mostly because I was curious, but also I didn’t find his work particularly fascinating to come up with a better question.

Interview with Ana María Matute by Miguel Ángel Muñoz

La Jornada has a short interview with Ana María Matute by Miguel Ángel Muñoz (I think the same Muñoz as El Sindrome Chejov). She talks about the books of hers that she likes most. The interview is a little short, but there are a few things of note.

–Un aspecto que marcó a toda tu generación fue la Guerra civil. ¿Qué recuerdas de ella?

–El mundo cambió para nosotros de una manera brutal. Todo el mundo encerrado en el paréntesis que va desde la infancia a la adolescencia se había consumido en tres años de asombro y de descubrimiento demasiado brusco. Pasamos de estar siempre controlados a vivir en completa libertad, vagando por las calles en busca de colas para recoger algo. En aquellos terribles años, crecí monstruosamente al encontrarme sumergida en un mundo crudo que estábamos descubriendo.

–Creo que en muchos pintores, dramaturgos, escritores y desde luego, en tu vida, quedó marcada por la muerte, la crueldad. ¿Has aprendido algo de ello?

–Desde luego. Conocimos la vida, el odio y también algo tan importante como la amistad y el amor. A veces, encontrar un verdadero amigo puede ser tan difícil como encontrar al amor de tu vida, o en otro sentido, escribir la novela de tu vida. Y digo lo de la amistad, porque junto al egoísmo y las traiciones, también brilla por sí misma la amistad.

–Tu novela Los hijos muertos es reflejo del desastre social y cultural que viviste…

–Es una de las novelas de la que estoy más satisfecha como escritora, pero que creo que poca gente la ha leído a excepción de algunas personas cercanas. Trata de la Guerra civil y es un documento de primera mano.  Hablé con mucha gente cuando la estaba escribiendo, aparte de que me acordaba perfectamente de muchas cosas. Creo que es un libro que registra un momento histórico, crucial para la vida española contemporánea.

Rosa Montero and Juan Goytisolo Interviewed on Writers and Company

Rosa Montero and Juan Goytisolo were interviewed on Writers and Company recently. As I’ve mentioned in my earlier posts on the program, the interviews have been quite good, long, and in many cases exposes authors who might not be so well known to English speakers. A case in point is Rosa Montero. I’m not familiar with her works, except her most recent that she presented on El Publico Lee, which didn’t sound that interesting to me. Yet as Books on Spain has pointed out several times, as have other critics, books written by women from Spanish speaking countries tend to be translated less. A check on Amazon doesn’t show anything translated into English. With this in mind, it was a good change of pace to hear her interview. The conversation focused on the transition to democracy, the changing role of women in Spain, and her work as a journalist (she started at El Pais when it was founded right after the death of Franco).

Also inclued in the episode is an interview with Juan Goytisolo. As he is more well known, I’ll just the interview speak for itself, and only say, it is worth listening to.

Antonio Muñoz Molina Interview at Writers and Company

Continuing with her fine series on Franco’s Ghosts: The Remaking of Spain, Elenor Wachtel interviewed Antonio Muñoz Molina for a generous hour in English. They talk about how the history of Spain during the 20th century influenced his family and his writing. It is one of the better interviews I’ve heard that expresses how hard life could be during Franco’s reign and why so many books about that time have been written. They talk a lot about Sepharad, one of his few books in English, so if you haven’t read it, it’s a good opportunity to decide. They also talk about his most recent tome (1000 pg, or so) which hasn’t been published in English. All in all, an excellent interview.

Javier Marias Interviewed on Pagina 2 (Spanish Only)

Javier Marías is on Pagina 2 from RTVE. The interview is interesting to a degree and they talk about why he continually says he’s not sure if he’s going to write fiction again, even though he’s done it for 40 years now. They also talk about the favorite books he has written (they are not You Face Tomorrow) and why.

The interview starts around minute 6 and midway through there is an interview with a journalist which you will probably want to skip over.

Audio of Short Story from Hipólito G Navarro

Literatura Sonra has a reading of Hipólito G Navarro’s short story Sucedáneo: pez volador. It is from his collection El aburrimiento, Lester which I’m actually working through right now. He is not the author reading it, but it is worth a listen if you understand Spanish. (via)

My Review of The Selected Stories of Mercè Rodoreda up at Asymptote Journal

My review of The Selected Stories of Mercè Rodoreda has been published by Asymptote Journal. I liked the stories quite a bit. I’ll let my review speak for itself:

The Selected Stories of Mercè Rodoreda are a fascinating mix of personal disappointment and the darkly allegorical, stories that capture the precise moment when longing becomes futile and self-destructive. Living through a troubled romance in her early years then later fleeing into exile and poverty at the end of the Spanish Civil War, Rodereda’s work reflects those turbulent moments and the disillusion that stems from them. Her stories
look inward, whether in disappointment with a cheating husband, or through grief, both expressed in rich allegorical language. It is the power to catch these moments, the spark of failure or the last legacy of something good, that makes her a rich story teller.

Short Story from Juan Carlos Márquez at Revista de Letras

Revista de Letras has another interesting short story and interview from the Spanish writer Juan Carlos Márquez. The story is more interesting than the interview because he is one of those terse writers who is more interested in writing than talking about writing. The story, on the other hand, was fun, a surrealistic story of a man whose heart falls out of his body one day and the changes that brings on the family, especially when the heart is the locus of all feeling.

Ese día mi padre apareció en el umbral de nuestra casa con el corazón en un puño.

—Se me ha caído ahora mismo, hijos, pero aún late. Llamad aprisa a vuestra madre.

Ismael salió corriendo a avisar a mamá, que en ese momento estaba tendiendo la ropa con una pinza en una mano y otra entre los labios. Yo tomé la mano libre de papá entre las mías, como solemos hacer las mujeres, hasta que llegó mamá. Traía consigo un cubo y una fregona.

—Dios santo, pero qué te ha pasado.
—Ha sido en el ascensor, me he agachado un momento para anudarme los cordones y lo he visto caer, como un pájaro muerto.

Javier Cercas Talking His Writing and Borges on Nostromo

For all of you Javier Cercas fans out there who speak Spanish, Nostromo has an hour long interview with the author. It is an excellent interview where they cover in depth 3 of his books, Anatomy of a Moment, Soldiers of Salamina, and a third one I can’t remember. Cercas and the interviewer also have an interesting discussion about Borges and Bioy Casares. Their take on the Invention of Morel was a little different than I have come across. All in all it was a great interview and Cercas seemed quite animated. I saw him on El Publico Lee some time ago and he seemed like he couldn’t be bothered to answer the questions. I will say if your Spanish is a little week he can be a bit of a challenge as he talks quite rapid.

Guardian Podcast on Spanish Writing

If you only read the articles form the Guardian about Spanish writers, you should give the podcast a try. I thought it was more interesting the articles, in part because Giles Tremlett hosts the Spanish portion and seemed a little more insightful than the articles were. I should have posed it a while ago, but I’m a little behind on my podcasts.

Enrique Vila-Matas to Publish Two Books of Stories

El Pais hasan article on the two books of stories that Enrique Vila-Matas is going to publish this year. These are reprints of earlier works with prologues. Chet Baker is also a form of “critical fiction” that tries to explore literary criticism through fiction.

Se publican dos libros de Enrique Vila-Matas, dos antologías de novelas breves y relatos. Se titula el primero En un lugar solitario. Narrativa 1973- 1984 y el segundo Chet Baker piensa en su arte. Relatos selectos. La importancia de estos libros es doble. Por una parte nos permite volver a sus primeras novelas, una década de preparación en toda regla de su futura narrativa de madurez. También se nos da la oportunidad de releer sus relatos (he vuelto a leer ‘El hijo del columpio’, mezcla genial de folletín y Kafka, y no pude parar de reírme). Pero, además, cada uno de estos libros lleva un texto inédito. Para las novelas breves, el autor escribe uno a manera de prólogo. Es un texto autobiográfico donde se nos consignan aspectos relevantes de la biografía de Vila-Matas, diríamos del joven Vila-Matas, además de algunas consideraciones de naturaleza estrictamente literarias que ayudan a comprender la génesis de su producción narrativa. En el segundo libro hay un relato, ‘Chet Baker piensa en su arte’, escrito en primera persona y en el cual la voz narradora airea sus dudas metodológicas: es la voz de un crítico que busca en la espesa selva de las teorías literarias su propia idea de la literatura.

Medardo Fraile Short Story and Interview – at Revista de Letras

Revista de Letras has an excellent interview with the short story writer Medardo Fraile and a pdf of one of his more famous short stories. He, as the interviewer points out, is of the same generation as Ana Maria Matute, and is one of the few still writing short stories. It is a good interview for a couple reasons: one he cites many authors worth reading (which I agree with); and it avoids some of the silly questions about short story writing that I often find, and instead, tries to give the read a way to enter his works, including asking the author what stories would be a good staring place. They do touch on the workshop phenomenon which is new to Spain. I think his take on the workshop as a place where new writers can feel they are not alone is spot on. The short story is probably 1500 words and has that economy that suggests whole lives but resists describing them and you walk away with a view of a life that you know, but are still uncertain because of the possibilities, which for me is the mark of something interesting (although, it can also lead to bad writing). (By the way, the story is at the bottom of interview. I missed it the first time)

(via sergibellver.blogspot.com)

Medardo Fraile (Madrid, 1925) es un referente ineludible en el cuento contemporáneo español y el eslabón del que parten varios de los mejores cuentistas de las últimas décadas. Cuentistas que, aun trabajando el relato desde diferentes estéticas, reconocen una deuda inequívoca con la literatura de Medardo Fraile. Aunque autores de la talla de Juan Eduardo Zúñiga o Ana María Matute mantienen también viva la voz de aquella generación del medio siglo, es el autor de Cuentos con algún amor (1954), Cuentos de verdad (1964) o Contrasombras (1998) quien mejor ha permitido encadenar una suerte de “linaje” con el cuento actual. Maestro literario y literal de cuentistas como Ángel Zapata o Víctor García Antón, contemporáneo de Ignacio Aldecoa y narrador de mirada afilada y lírica al tiempo. Este ciclo pretende dibujar el mapa del relato breve español hasta hoy y, por ello, no podía comenzar con otro cuentista que no fuera Medardo Fraile.

[…]

Leí en una entrevista reciente que te hizo el citado Ángel Zapata que “Quiero dormir”, de Chéjov, te parecía uno de los relatos más perturbadores que recordabas. ¿Qué cuento de todos los que has escrito crees que podría sorprender y conmover más a un lector que, a estas alturas, llegara por primera vez a cualquiera de tus libros? ¿Hay alguno que, a tu juicio, resuma tu poética personal con un efecto más claro?

Bueno, eso depende siempre del lector y sólo por haber escrito casi doscientos cuentos me atrevo a citarte catorce títulos y así habrá para todas las sensibilidades (perdóname): “Las personas mayores”, “Los encogidos”, “Punto final”, “Roque Macera”, “Perdónanos, Hermy”, “Episodio Nacional”, “El señorito”, “Crónica de la esperanza”, “De pronto (Celebración Ibérica)”, “La piedra”, “El sillón”, “Old man drive”, “Postrimerías”, “No hay prisa en abrir los ojos”… Lo de mi “poética personal” es para mí más difícil: ¿”El banco”, “Primeros pasos”? Quizá.

Ricardo Piglia Wins the Critics Prize + His Thourghts on Writing

Ricardo Piglia, has won the Premio de la Crítica, one of the more prestigious prizes in Spain for his novel Blanco nocturno (Anagrama, 2010). It is only his fourth novel, a little surprising given that he has been writing for years, but better a few good works than dozens of erratic works.

Blanco nocturno es la cuarta novela de Ricardo Piglia -nacido en 1940 en Adrogué, en la provincia de Buenos Aires- uno de los grandes nombres de la narrativa argentina de las últimas décadas. La obra galardonada vino precedida de una gran expectación dado que la anterior novela de Piglia se había publicado en 1997: Plata quemada, premio Planeta Argentina y adaptada al cine en 2000 por Marcelo Piñeyro con Leonardo Sbaraglia y Eduardo Noriega como protagonistas.

Piglia, que actualmente en profesor de literatura en la universidad estadounidense de Princeton, dirigió durante años una famosa Serie Negra que difundió en su país la obra de los clásicos modernos del género policiaco -de Hammett a Chandler-. No es pues extraño que muchas de sus obras mezclen la investigación de un crimen con las más penetrantes reflexiones sobre el hecho de narrar. “Se podría pensar que la novela policial es la gran forma ficcional de la crítica literaria”, afirmó en el libro de conversaciones Crítica y ficción (1986) para subrayar la relación entre las figuras del detective y el lector.

And in bonus commentary you can read about his thoughts on writing in Revista Ñ. I found his thoughts on short stories interesting, if a little odd for a writer of his caliber.

Mientras la ilusión mía con las novelas es que todas sean distintas, los primeros cuentos que he escrito en los años 60 y los que estoy escribiendo ahora son muy parecidos. Formalmente, quiero decir. Como si el cuento no fuera un espacio de experimentación como es la novela. Hay que pensar por qué pasa eso.

It is hard to get rid of a lifetime of habits I guess.

Interview with Spanish – Catalan Short Story Writer Sergi Pàmies

El Pais has an interview with the Catalan short story writer Sergi Pàmies. I recently discovered this author when I was watching the Nostromo episode about the short story. In that episode he reads a story which I liked. I didn’t know he writes in Catalan and his book, La bicicleta estática, was just published in Spanish. He also writes regularly (as does Quim Monzo) for La Vanguradia a Spanish language news paper based in Barcelona. Anyway, he looks like someone to find more about.

P. ¿Por qué le costó tanto ‘El Principito’?

R. Hace años que quería escribir un libro sobre el efecto intimidador del canon literario, pero siempre acababa siendo un cuento sobre el Ulises de Joyce… Pero cuando El Principito se metió en la vida de mis hijos y reaccionaron como yo, postergando su lectura, vi el momento. He tenido problemas con El Principito durante 41 años y solo lo leí porque tenía que escribir este cuento. Pero fíjese, hay millones de seres humanos que van por la calle fingiendo que lo han leído.

P. ¿Escribe en catalán los libros y en castellano los artículos?

R. Casi siempre. Pero tampoco nadie me ha pedido que escriba libros en castellano.

P. Después del lío de Fráncfort, para usted, ¿qué es la literatura catalana?

R. Fráncfort dio sus frutos… Yo no fui porque pensaba que habían invitado a la cultura catalana, no a la literatura. Pero la literatura catalana es la que se escribe en catalán. La literatura la define la lengua en la que se escribe.

Interview With Javier Marias – And Your Chance to Ask Him a Question

The radio program En dias como hoy has an interview with Javier Marias. Mostly they talk about the new book.worth a listen for Marias fans.

On Monday April 11, 2011 he will answer reader’s questions at El Pais. You have until then to formulate and post your question. I wonder if he is going to type them himself. He is known partly because he doesn’t use a computer.

Javier Cercas Profiled at the Guardian

The Guardian has a profile of Javier Cercas, his books, and fragments of an interview. It is worth a read as it will give you a window into his work, some of which has not been translated into English. The description of the Soldiers Salamis finally makes me want to read it (I was a bit on the fence after Anatomy of a Moment).

Cercas made his name with his fifth novel, Soldiers of Salamis (2001), which concerned an enigmatic encounter in 1939 between a Falangist writer, who had miraculously escaped a death squad in Catalonia, and a republican militiaman, who looks the fugitive in the eye but spares him. Weaving real and fictional characters, past and present, with allusions to the ancient battle of Salamis, it presaged resurgent interest in Spain in the civil war 60 years earlier, with moves to unearth anonymous graves and the founding of an Association for the Recovery of Historical Memory. It sold more than a million copies worldwide and won the Independent Foreign Fiction prize in 2004. Its 2003 film adaptation by David Trueba, screened at Cannes, won a Goya award. The Nobel laureate Mario Vargas Llosa declared it “magnificent”, proof that engaged literature is not dead; for another critic, nothing less than the reconciliation of Spain begins at the moment when Cercas’s soldier refuses to kill. For the historian Antony Beevor, Cercas brings an “emotional intelligence that quite often historians who rely on documents are incapable of, and he never corrupts history. He’s not putting words into the mouths of historical characters.”

The unexpected success of Soldiers of Salamis (“only old people will be interested, my publishers said”) allowed Cercas to quit teaching Spanish literature at Catalonia’s Girona university. He has been a columnist for El País newspaper since 1997. Aged 48, he now lives in Barcelona with his wife Mercè Mas (an actor), and their 15-year-old son Raül. On the eve of the coup’s 30th anniversary, I found him riled by claims in El Mundo that he had been arrested in a Barcelona brothel during a police raid. It was a bizarre hoax for which the newspaper apologised a couple of days later, and a warped response, he says, to a column of his urging journalists to use their imaginations. “I’m not suing – it takes three years,” he shrugs. “You English have strong traditions of dissent, but we don’t know we can disagree without insulting each other. Intolerance is our national sin, because we have a tradition of dictatorship and inquisition; we kill people for thinking differently from us. Our national sport is not football but civil war.”

There is a bit on Anatomy’s position in Spanish society and some of the controversies. It really helps to know them when reading the book. I mentioned a few others in my review.

While The Anatomy of a Moment played a part in unearthing the past, it also controversially defended Spain’s tacit “pact of forgetting” – a path to reconciliation without trials or truth commissions that was settled in writing by the 1977 amnesty law. “If you want total justice – to judge all Francoists – you’re not going to get freedom; the army won’t accept it,” he says. “Sometimes total justice is total injustice – witch-hunting. Everyone was implicated in Francoism when my father was a kid.” The pact was made, he suggests, by those who remembered civil-war bloodletting, and what score-settling could actually mean. “It’s become a historical cliché that, in the change from dictatorship to democracy, Spain forgot. But it’s totally false. What happened was society, especially the political class, decided not to use the past as a political weapon, to construct something for all of us.”