At the end of the 1950s, I started working at a publishing company, Estudios Cor, as production manager, so returning, but not as an author, to the world of letters I had left some years before.
Perhaps it is the language that chooses the writers it needs, making use of them so that each might express a tiny part of what it is.
Death is present every day in our lives. It's not that I take pleasure in the morbid fascination of it, but it is a fact of life.
The novel is not so much a literary genre, but a literary space, like a sea that is filled by many rivers.
We're not short of movements proclaiming that a different world is possible, but unless we can coordinate them into an international movement, capitalism just laughs at all these little organisations.
The world had already changed before September 11. The world has been going through a process of change over the last 20 or 30 years. A civilization ends, another one begins.