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Quote by Santiago Roncagliolo

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El año en que nació el demonio

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Santiago Roncagliolo

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“La nostra excusa per seure al darrere era que el fervor dels qui seien al davant ens semblava poc digne, inapropiat i irracional, la seva fe massa total i absoluta. Al davant, sempre hi seien els conversos —o això deien a casa—, i es veu que els conversos tenien una fe ferotge. Quan ara, més a prop del final de la vida, m’adono que he tornat a seure a les files del darrere als actes literaris i artístics, que tant s’assemblen a les esglésies d’abans —antics rituals amb una disfressa nova—, amb la seva servitud acrítica a noves ortodòxies i el seu menyspreu per la diferència, reconfortant per a molts, plens de condemnes ferotges i consensos lànguids que la majoria troben necessaris, el pensament se m’envola. Un món d’ortodòxia sacrosanta és un món on la novella i el novellista no tenen lloc. Un escriptor, si fa bé la seva feina, és sempre un heretge. I mentre seu en silenci suportant l’avorriment ranci, la hipocresia solemne i les homilies feixugues, la seva ment fuig un altre cop cap als somnis de mar i de sol que hi ha a fora.”

Cultura
Book:Question 7
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“A menos que nos lavemos los dientes, comamos, nos duchemos y hagamos actividad física indispensable, cocinemos, limpiemos nuestro hábitat, compremos, y nos enteremos de noticias y el mundo que nos rodea, todas estas cosas mientras jugamos Skyrim; bien podríamos decir que se nos irá fácilmente más del 10% del tiempo útil, de ocio o recreación de todo un año, a terminar un juego.”

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Book:Videojuego y Adicción: Game Over
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“Who is who? In the silence that sinks into you, In the seclusion that excludes you, You begin to realise without her you are not you, And you begin to believe in her more than you do in you, Wherever you might be, her thoughts seem stubbornly pervasive, And in this state of her pervasiveness you let her memories become invasive, And now you are no more you and this happens to you in phases successive, Now everything appears yonder and so inconclusive, But you love her because now she is a part of you, You exist in her and not in you, Even your heart revolts as it begins to beat for her and not for you, You no longer exist in days or months, you just exist in moments where you wonder without her what are you? In life everything seems pertinent because you have evolved into a poker face, Because no matter how hard you try, in the mirror, in your own reflection you see her face, A sort of a purgatory for true lover’s face, Where through some intermediary grace you now kiss her face, Because now it is difficult to tell who is who, Whether it is you, it is her, and you wonder who can tell; who? After struggling to define who is who, You let her face, her memories, her feelings, her heart beats define you. Because this is who you are, the real you! So let me love you Irma with this poker face, And see if you can find the grace in this superimposed face, And when million reflections are cast in the mirror of life let me see if you can identify the face, That loved you for your beautiful heart and your inward grace!”

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Book:They Loved in 2075!
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“Ma questa non è cultura, è pedanteria, non è intelligenza, ma intelletto, e contro di essa ben a ragione si reagisce. La cultura è una cosa ben diversa. È organizzazione, disciplina del proprio io interiore, è presa di possesso della propria personalità, è conquista di coscienza superiore, per la quale si riesce a comprendere il proprio valore storico, la propria funzione nella vita, i propri diritti e i propri doveri.”

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Author:Antonio Gramsci
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“Cuando el gusto del gran público determina el valor de un producto cultural, es inevitable que, en muchísimos casos, escritores, pensadores y artistas mediocres o nulos, pero vistosos y pirotécnicos, diestros en la publicidad y la autopromoción o que halagan con destreza los peores instintos del público, alcancen altísimas cotas de popularidad y le parezcan, a la inculta mayoría, los mejores y sus obras sean las más cotizadas y divulgadas.”

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Author:Jorge Mario Pedro Vargas Llosa
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