Los que hemos amado

Los que hemos amado, Willy Uribe, Barcelona, Los Libros del Lince, 2011

Del viaje en apariencia inocente de dos muchachos de Getxo al sur de Marruecos el lector no dejará de sorprenderse de la capacidad narrativa de su autor, Willy Uribe, a medida que descubra cada nueva etapa del viaje. La ambientación en el invierno de 1981 no es gratuita, las referencias a la inestabilidad política del país son constantes y el deseo de cambio y, al mismo tiempo, de desarraigo de los protagonistas, también.

Estamos delante de una historia con elementos iniciáticos: el descubrimiento de la edad adulta de Eder y de Sergio. Una ansia de conocimiento que los lleva a la expresión siguiente: “nada calmaba el ardor de mi alma y mi deseo, confuso y expectante.” (p. 131). Todo ello con tintes policíacos o del género negro, a partir de las acciones delictivas de sus personajes para llevar a cabo su objetivo: el negocio con el hachís. Historias de adolescentes con familias desestructuradas que beben del agua de la inestabilidad social y económica del Euskadi de los años 80.

Del mismo modo, encontramos un espacio para la poeticidad. Descubrimos unas playas y acantilados del sur de Marruecos, donde el azul del mar y del cielo, con el crecimiento de las olas, son el espacio idóneo para el desarrollo de los protagonistas. Cabe destacar también la referencia al título a partir del nombre de la casa de la abuela de uno de los jóvenes, Eder: Nous avons aimé. Esta es la explicación de su propietaria que sirve como contrapunto a la vida acelerada de los jóvenes que la escuchan: “Hemos Amado significa que comprendemos. Porque hemos amado y hemos sufrido sabemos cómo son las cosas. Quien no ama, o quien tan sólo sabe dejarse amar, no habrá aprendido nada y su vida habrá sido en vano.” (p. 75). Un canto, pese a todo, al futuro, a la condescendencia, a la resolución de conflictos. Con un punto de partida pésimo, el desarraigo completo de sus protagonistas: “Pensé que las ciudades no nos pertenecen, tampoco ninguna tierra” (p. 113). Una novela, pues, para saborear la fuerza del cielo azul y las tinieblas de la tierra que hay debajo.

Confesiones a Alá

Confesiones a Alá, Saphia Azzeddine, Madrid, Demipage, 2011 (2008)

Aquesta és una història ambientada al Magrib on la jove Jbara esdevé una imatge del desig de supervivència de tanta gent que viu es zones deprimides com la seua. Es construeix així un relat directe, amb posat aparentment senzill, amb la veu pròxima de la protagonista –en primera persona–, que es converteix en el testimoni contradictori de l’ànsia per viure i ser lliure, alhora que accentua la seua dependència de les necessitats material: “Ara sóc tota una dona de negocis. El meu cos és la meua oficina.” (pàg. 70).

L’escriptora i actriu intenta polemitzar –l’objectiu que percaça és força evident– a través de la nuesa de la veu de Jbara, tot construint una novel·la en certa mesura iniciàtica on el coneixement del seu país, el Marroc, és un fet ben obvi. Amb tot, la provocació general de l’obra presenta una involució a la fi que impregna d’una certa dosi d’inversemblança la seua resolució. La pretesa interlocució amb el seu Déu, Al·là, tampoc és una qüestió, al nostre parer, ben resolta, més enllà de recordar al lector la religió que professa la protagonista.

Ceremony

Ceremony, Yasmine Chami-Kettani, París, Babel, 1999

Is about the wedding of the brother of the protagonist, Khadija, the author recreates the atmosphere of Moroccan families during the time of the ceremony. Khadija was a young architect of thirty-five years after her divorce. She was reunited with her parents and her voice shows the contrast of his present life and past memories. A story between the weight of tradition and the will of freedom. Her thoughts are with the help of his cousin, who was also at the family party: Malika. The mixture permeates the novel, the contradictory feelings of Khadija force to show her desperation.
The weak point of the story is perhaps the concept and realization of the main character. Khadija is the pretext for action, but at the same time, the object of reflection. However, the thread of the argument is lost through subplots as the story of Aisha, the premium lost.
In ceremony, we hear the voice of a woman who had fought for her freedom:

“Come, Mamma, there’s nothing to do here, you see that we want” (p. in order of the negative action of her father. But a reality, “is tired of fighting, and suddenly you have more desire to escape” (p. 17), over time it causes the perception of that reality cannot escape all his life. The most interesting thing is the complicity built between the two cousins, Khadijah and Malika, is the evocation of the human and moral strength of women with this type of culture where women have not achieved the equality whose reached by men. And lastly, a symbolic desire and lack of sex “in secret, she sees her daughter a husband invested by two, a girl without sex” (p. 49).

The red fez

The red fez, Abdellah Taia, Paris, Biarritz, Atlantica, Segui, 2004
The first time I read a book of this writer, I had a nice feeling. Not always so. Often when I read a first time author I may not like. This time is different. I love the word phrases, the rhythm of its syntactic constructs. Taia writes with musicality, with the fresh fragrance of a poet.
It is a book of autobiographical prose. There are many memories of his life.

It is a good mix of stories, in the light of your space, the derb or towns, neighborhoods with narrow streets, where he lived, and especially the feelings of someone who wants to change their fate. What I like is the manifestation of the uprooting of the protagonist, the alter ego of the writer himself: Abdellah Taia.

Is the pure perception of this man who ended his studies in Paris and away from its own origins. There is a point where nobody knows where he comes when he says: “Nothing. I have nothing here, no chance, no future.” (Page 122), “My new life is built in Paris, happy or unhappy, that depends on the day and seasons. “(page 125).
Everything is difficult. The anguish is born with the power of death. With the solitude he finds happiness:
“I needed the darkness that temporarily brought me back to myself, which gave me brief moments of calm. The privacy needs of darkness, cannot live full sun” (p. 126)
But ultimately, the love for becoming, for the future, it helps me with the news. It is the general feeling in all stories, all players who are the book. Wonderful.

A melancholy Arabic

A melancholy Arabic, Abdellah Taya, Irun, Alberdania, 2009 (2008)
This is a new book by the author of Salé in Morocco, which he again raised up the uneasy coexistence of personal original roots and a new life in Paris. Anyway, this book presents a more coherent argument that the former Taya, Red Fez (2004). This time, the internal structure gives us four separate parts: “Remembrance,” “I”, “Run away” and “Writing”. Four pieces of life of the author or the author alleged that from the perspective with a personal-identification with the protagonist’s name-address various aspects of migration, the contrast of cultures, but above all the love between adults, compared with a protagonist who recognizes “falling in love at first sight”.
Meeting again in a poetic prose Tayá very interesting that sometimes brings us closer to the poetic prose in fact, are some verses. However, the strength of the first half, with the near rape of teenage protagonist, does not recover. The later stories are moving more in longing and desire for a perfect love that the character is not enough in love affairs, a young man who summed up his anxiety very clearly: “I want to love” (p. 31). The last part, with letters and texts crossed with Slimane’s lover, is uneven; breaks the spell that had created the previous chapters in the reader. However, this is a book to savor, without any attempt to discover any major element.

The last friend

The last friend, Tahar Ben Jelloun, Barcelona, Empúries, 2005 (2004)

Do not know if it’s a great novel, as it says on the back Bernard Pivot, but I know it is a book that reads very well, very comfortable, willing, and that fills you with optimism.

At the end there is a final precipitation that makes the reader the feeling of speed, excessive desire of the author to create a short and concise. We were left wanting more. Also the second part, focusing on the voice of the second friend, Mamed, does not provide too much data, repeats the story from another point of view, only the final, the destruction of friendship to preserve the suffering of the first, Ali, before the second cancer. A bit far-fetched, bear the destruction of the friendship of the person you love, to prevent their suffering! Idea curious approach to story: friendship between men. It developed not entirely appropriate.

It’s tough playing with friendship, because sometimes doubt, really, what is friendship. It appears that the Eastern world is valued more. In ours, is a value in extinction. I myself if I look in my past, I’m almost without memories. I think friends are parallel to your growth as a person at a particular time, when you pass a stage are lost. The Moroccan writer’s book brings to this maintenance.