Some very specific moments are exceptional for their beauty. A sudden elevation that lasts for a few seconds, from time to time, perhaps for months or years, depending on the opportunity to think or the possibility of getting bored. On the contrary, and as a rule, the days pass without realizing it until we come face to face with the Beautiful or the Ugly of this world that is so ours.. What desolation invades those who discover daily the accentuated frequency of the vile and horrendous moments, which are – at the expense of the good and unfortunately – the bread of tomorrow, the day after and the next. However, nothing prevents them from affecting the consciences of those willing to spirit, who also survive among the crowd and its resounding noise.
It is these types of events that describe J. Á. Gonzalez Sainz In his latest book of stories, So to speak, a series of four episodes in which a halo of fiction that is as real as it is sad predominates. Here the blow of reality is revealed from everyday life, close and common situations tinged with a surrealism that loses its strangeness because it is familiar. The unforeseen event, arising from impudence and bad manners, is presented as a turning point for the protagonists, as a new and more conscious awakening. It’s a shame that these reflections always occur a posteriori; although that happens —of course— if they arrive. In any case, each of the external interventions disturbs the “peace” or the rest of the light, the comfort of stress and hustle and bustle, denying the “automatic” breathing and the punctual material whims that disguise the heaviness and suffocation.
“Who drowns us? Who looks at us through the glass? How many do we look at? How many have we drowned?“
It seems that the majority has resigned itself to living like this, in a common place where trivial conflict prevails and discussion about what is fundamental has been canceled. It is the echo of a worn-out Fuenteovejuna that has given in to the relative relativism of those who believe in moral superiority and show off their hegemony without fear of rejection. The problem of “deaf ideology” is another consequence of the system, which stupidizes us in the streets and amazes us at home. We are pieces of a gear, parts who get tired at work and rest on the couch, distracted. We are puppets, pawns instrumentalized to produce. They see us, they control us, they know what to please us with, what to irritate us with… It happens until one day we feel strong pressure in our chest and wonder if something is wrong. What’s clogging my throat? Who drowns us? Who looks at us through the glass? How many do we look at? How many have we drowned? Once we are aware, something prevents us from enjoying the concert, the vote, the trip, even television; while the rest applaud, throw dice, eat pipes or continue staring at the fish tank, stunned.
“Despite everything, we are left with the figure of the hero, the faithful protector of night terrors, who respects language and rules without malpractice, who is free of diseases and poisons.“
The similarity in the bad-tempered character, the similar tones, observations and repetitions (birds, myopia or hyperopia), lead us to think that the protagonists are the same at different times: when they meet, as a couple, with a child… But neither the names coincide nor the trace of the events would have had the supposed depth. They are and are not, therefore, the same: they are the similarities between those who become aware of the mockery or nausea. We are none and all, their affinity is ours. In this way, the long sentences spiral, coming and going, specifying and qualifying each expression, as thought does: creating narratives through critical monologues, which question everything that is said with great agility and colloquialism. Airs of humor for a dystopian world from which you will seek to escape without being able to escape.
Despite everything, we are left with the figure of the hero, the faithful protector of night terrors, who respects language and rules without malpractice, who is free of affections and poisons, someone disinterested in derived lucrative ends and eager for an empathetic and breathable environment. A freethinker, in short, who elegantly and politely flees from gregariousness and sectarian blinkers, showing tolerance without losing firmness or conviction. Despite everything, we are left with literature and works like this one, So to speak leaves. González Sainz, a vindictive collection of nonsense (not so crazy) that urges us to recover what is so good about humanism. because someday the good will begin truly, for some sooner than for others, and faces will once again light up with the brightness that was taken from them.
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Author: JA Gonzalez Sainz. Qualification: So to speak. Editorial: Anagram. Sale: All your books.
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