"C'en est trop ! Tout me revient en cascade : les jeux de l'enfance, la fin du franquisme, la Movida... Quitter Madrid ou finir au caniveau. Mais le passé n'est pas passé, le temps n'est pas mort. Vingt-cinq ans après je dois revenir. Tout est dégradation. Sauve qui peut, sauve qui peut Madrid !"
Je n'arrive pas à comprendre pourquoi écrit-on en français sur une vie aussi espagnole, madrilène, que celle-ci. D'accord, l'auteur a été éduqué au lycée français et il habite à Paris depuis longtemps, mais le texte parait une traduction plutôt qu'une composition originale en français. En tout cas, assez intéressant et facile à lire.
We would never have heard of this, but we heard the author speak and read extracts from his book at the Banquet du Livre in Lagrasse. And at the end of the talk we dashed straight out to the bookshop and bought his book. It's a series of autobiographical fragments about his early life in Madrid, written after he had lived in Paris for 25 years. He wrote them as the memories came, and then rearranged them into chronological order. Some are just a couple of pages, and none more than about eight.
The sections he read were entertaining and beautifully written. I wasn't quite expecting the seamier side that appears later in the book, when he reached his late teens, dabbling in drug-taking and prostitution while engaged in the famous Movida in Madrid. My jaw dropped at a particularly scabrous tale involving blind men and closeted monks.
Anyway, I really enjoyed this; his first book, and he said he had plenty of ideas for more.