The destiny of a journalistic text once read (or not read), Manuel Vicent (La Vilavella, 90 years old) rightly states, ends up being, more often than one believes, wrapping a kilo of fish. Or potatoes if you prefer. The great report, the interview of the year, the informative note, the criticism: nothing escapes the perishable quality of a newspaper. Neither do its columns. Not even those of Vicent himself, with his poetic and impressionistic prose, with his memoirist, melancholic tone. “I saw that in the bars of Lavapiés,” recalls the writer, “people read my article. But it was enough for the waiter to arrive and ask what they were going to drink for those miserable people to prefer a beer over me.”
He says this at the presentation, at the Instituto Cervantes in Madrid, of his new book, Behind the wound, a compilation of his columns, published in this newspaper for almost 50 years, which also illustrates, in a kind of dialogue, the work of Rafael Canogar (Toledo, 90 years old), master of informalism, pioneer of abstraction and member (the last alive) of the El Paso Group, which put Spain at the forefront of the international art scene. Perhaps what was missing for those foolish people from Madrid to take them more seriously and for them to endure as the poetic work that they ultimately are.
The book is, explained the editor Javier Santiso at the event, “a tribute to slowness in accelerated and very cannibalistic times. And a head-to-head between an artist and a writer.” His publishing house, La Cama Sol, has been making unusual books since 2017. For starters, they are made like those from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, with pages that have to be opened with a letter opener. All dedicated to poetry and with illustrations by some of the most relevant contemporary artists in the country. For this reason, although it is not the first book of compilations of Vicent’s columns—in 2014 it was published Radical libre (Chalk Circle)—yes it is particularly special. “Reading a column in the newspaper, good, bad or average, does not have any difficulty, but if you put the column in a book that you have to open with a knife, it is like entering the sacred rabbit hole of the arcane,” Vicent joked in the talk moderated by journalist Juan Cruz, also the book’s prologue writer.
In this, the works of Canogar, who shares the same age as the columnist, dialogue with the texts that previously accompanied news. They are different languages, but they talk about the same thing. “Two souls,” in the words of Juan Cruz, “that ride together.” The two of them, Cruz and Santiso, convinced Vicent to search among his thousands of columns, the most poetic and his favorites. He delegated the work to several friends who helped him choose. “A confluence that concerns many people because, deep down, we all dream the same thing,” he said. And they also served to fill the event with anecdotes, much celebrated by the public, reflections of a world “managed by a crupier that starts the ball rolling, and depending on the number where it falls, the story changes”, and the job of a columnist. “You always write the same column. If, from all the things I have written, someone could bring out my obsessions, my dreams, my shortcomings. There you go emptying yourself,” he explained.
Experiences of Spain
The chosen texts confirm this well. There are experiences of post-war Spain, the search for freedom, personal experiences and anecdotes. In letters, above all, but also in paintings. Because, as Canogar explained, both have lived through “the same Spain, the same history, the same circumstances,” and defended the same ideas. The man from Toledo preferred to listen serenely, as if wishing to return to the canvas soon, to the words of his “admired friend.” She praised him briefly and laughed like the rest of the spectators at his jokes. “Vicent’s poetic prose has made us all happy.” Perhaps for this reason, he has managed to captivate thousands of readers who, as proof of this, have been crowding for some time (lately regularly) every event he attends, and who this Monday formed a long line outside the Institute’s headquarters more than 15 minutes before the event began.
In addition to his journalistic career and his highly celebrated books, Vicent has won awards such as the Alfaguara novel award (the only author to have won it twice) and the Nadal award. “Poetry is not within the reach of journalism,” Cruz said, “but we are lucky that journalism is sometimes nourished by poetry.” And Manuel Vicent has been doing it in these pages almost since the beginning of the newspaper. Poetry, in verse or prose, deserves more than sheltering fish.