Original language: English Year: 2011
Rating: Highly Recommended
I find it hard to understand that Cristina Fernández Cubas is not as well known as other English writers current ( example, Maruja Torres or Almudena Grandes), for literary quality can not be, because everything that this author has written, everything I've read, at least, is excellent. Maybe it is because it has moved in literary circles of the Court, or because you have decided have a very creative career (over stories novels, apart from fashion and trends), or because it has lavished on the media ... Whatever it is, I think this is a writer who deserves more recognition than it has received so far, even in critical circles is highly regarded specialist.
Things that no longer exist is a peculiar book in his bibliography, but like almost everyone else, is a great book. Is a collection of short stories based on real events: some are autobiographical ("autoficcionales?), Others are stories that someone told the writer. They range from the childhood of the writer, until the end of the century XX world pass through (Spain, Argentina, Brazil, Egypt); pass from tiny (a room full of books) to the planetary (the death of Evita Perón); always show new edges of reality, which becomes story. The story entitled "War, which the author does not know if it is real or fiction, could be a separate account in any volume of stories with no pretense of reality.
Because the most important lesson to be learned from this book is precisely that our memories are also a story, a narrative, than ever, try to be very faithful to reality, may be the reality itself. There is always selection alteration, narrativization, contextualization, fictionalization. The writer is fully aware of this, so blithely accepted that their memories are transformed into stories (and, as stated in the prologue, which are rewarded as such), does not mean I'm cheating the reader, but is assumed as inevitable something too often overlooked: that our past no longer exists, there are only stories we build on our past.
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