By the sea, where everything good comes back
It was my first sighting of the cobbled street of Toledo that made me want to study in Spain during my third year. Johnny Depp was looking for the Cenizo brothers, book restorers who knew a great deal of antiquated books. There was a spooky aspect behind the scene, which was based from a demonic novel about hopeless cynics who clung to the ideals of Alexandre Dumas. This was a side of Spain I didn't know, whether shadows would make visitors wary of going out at night. But this was a novel by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. I would get the chance to know more of him and his works.
Flash forward to Málaga, which is located in the Costa del Sol. Pablo, who became my guide of sort, told me that Gibraltar was 100 kilometers away from the city. Northern Africa was a sea away, but it would be 130 kilometers. I was quite impressed at his knowledge of figures until I find out that he was studying mathematics. The panorama of the metropolis from Gibralfaro was stunning, which prompted me to wonder if Pablo Picasso went up this spot. The painter was one of the famous residents of Málaga, and his works don't seem to reflect the warmth and life of this Mediterranean area. Then again, I might be totally ignorant of Picasso's style (or painting in general). It didn't worry me, as I came here to study Spanish literature.
And Spanish literature isn't about Don Quixote
Miguel de Cervantes was credited with "The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha", which laid the foundation of the modern novel. But I believed there were other gifted (Spanish) writers. I was too familiar with the English literature, and I thought a year of immersion into the literature from another country would be an exciting journey. My tutor told me to hold my tongue until the term would reach midpoint, but there was nothing to worry about. After all, I wouldn't miss the gray sky and rainfall.
The writings of Javier MarÃas interested me. He reminded me of Anton Chekhov, but those who were familiar with the works of the Russian author would be misled. Many characters that graced the pages of his stories were physicians, and they won't talk about melancholia. In fact, it seemed to be a forbidden subject in this sunny seaside. I'm not hinting that Marias, a native of Madrid, is depicting the British side of the Spaniards (or Iberians or whatever you call it). It could be a shadow in the dark, and you never knew what was lurking into it. I was referring to "When I Was Mortal", a collection of his short stories.
"The Night Doctor", for instance, recounted the night when a young woman called the (family) physician. She was ill, and she seemed not to be happy in the company of her husband. He was extremely tall, overweight, and with features suggesting a cruel fellow. But a meeting with the night doctor was a life changer for the couple. Marias didn't spill the details, but I would guess the physician and the young woman had an affair. And her hubby made a surprised entrance. It would be an outrageous scene in a Fernando Trueba picture, whose films I've seen and liked a lot. But this short story ended with the death of the young woman's husband months after that fateful evening.
"The Italian Legacy" delighted me, which showed how life would be an irony at times. It reminded me of my assignments (and deadlines), but I was getting ahead. Two Italian ladies hardly have something in common apart from their collection of books. They were bibliophiles, which they used to show an air of prestige. (But their meager wage would reveal otherwise.) The narrator was a good friend of both women, and introducing them to each other turned out to be a mistake. What followed was a divorce, and a likely separation (in the immediate future). I almost forgot a clandestine affair, which was better off in that situation. I couldn't tell more, as the details would spoil the surprise (in store for readers).
I was unable to finish the rest of the tales, as I have another book (and assignment) to read. But I would bring my copy of the shorts next weekend. My coursemate, who was spending his third year in Lagos, wanted a weekend in Gibraltar.
