Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts

February 29, 2016

Interview with Nazario

One of the greatest honors since the opening of this blog: ground-breaking LGBT artist Nazario (Castilleja del Campo, Seville, 1944) has discussed with us his comic book Alí Babá y los 40 maricones, as well as his long lasting career, unforgettable friends such as one-of-a-kind Ocaña, sexual behavior, open relationships, censorship at present and in the Franco regime, other experiences in the world of art. . .Extremely touching is his remembrance of the love of his life: late artist Alejandro Molina.
Definitely not for prudes. . .Do not hesitate and enjoy the speech of this contumaciously bold, hopelessly square peg and terribly cuddly human being.


SPANISH GAY FICTION: Do you remember your early years in the comic tagged as underground? How was the comic book universe when you began? How different was your style from the type of Spanish mainstream comic then?

NAZARIO: In the 60’s/70’s the trend was sci-fi comic for adults, and adventure stories by French authors were translated. In Italy they were interested in Crepax’s Valentina or Hugo Pratt’s Corto Maltese, though I preferred comics such as Lucifera or Belzeba. Anyway, my biggest interest was French comics (e.g., Barbarella, Jodelle.) When I discovered American magazine MAD, I found a wide field of possibilities which would have influence in my dedication to comic. Then Zap Comix showed up, and everything changed. Crumb’s sassy scripts, and Clay Wilson’s messy, baroque drawings, plenty of sex and violence, started to define the way that I was going to lead as an illustrator.
The press started to use the term underground to classify us in the American trend, though our situation was a way really different under the strict censorship of the Franco regime. This censorship rules were applied to our comics, so I had to publish my most salacious stories in France; and in Spain I had to publish my own editing La Piraña Divina (“The Divine Piranha”) secretly.

SGF: You are usually considered the father of the Spanish underground comic in general terms, and the Spanish gay comic in particular. What do you feel about these labels? Do you think that they are fair, or excessive? Were there no Spanish underground or gay comic authors before you started to work in comics?

N: When I met the young illustrators in Barcelona, people who would take part in our publications later, I was coming from Seville with a portfolio full of drawings. I was a bit elder than my colleagues, and a kind of mature artist. From the very beginning I got interested in comics as an instrument to denounce the repression that women were suffering first, and later the repression that gays had suffered and were still suffering due to the religious, patriarchal education.
By those days, the only openly gay illustrations that I knew were by Tom of Finland.

SGF: Do you feel recognized in Spain? If not, which do you think the reasons are?

N: My work as an illustrator committed to freedom of speech and homosexual liberation, as well as the usual scandals with my publications and exhibitions, make average educated people know my work. Curiously, it may be the comic world—an atmosphere where I never felt fully identified with—where my work is not very much appreciated. I have never received an invitation to give a lecture about my work in any of the hundreds of comic book conventions held throughout the country. However, universities and museums have really got interested in my work.[1]

SGF: And beyond the Spanish boundaries? Are you a renowned author abroad?

N: Just Anarcoma was edited in English (in USA it was sold in sex shops only), French, Italian, German and Swedish. The rest of my work has not packed quite a punch internationally at all—except for the serial publication of Alí Babá y los 40 maricones in France.

SGF: The concept of Alí Babá y los 40 maricones reminds of Francisco Ibáñez’s 13, Rue del Percebe. Curiously, though you and Ibáñez are two legends in Spanish comic, your styles are really different. Ibáñez is a mainstream author for all audiences, while you are a cult author for a much more specific reader. Did you conceive Alí Babá y los 40 maricones as a way to deprave Ibáñez’s work? Did you get the inspiration from a real neighborhood—yours, for instance?

N: In 1977 I published three series of two pages each in Por Favor magazine[2] under the name Sábado, sabadete en los Apartamentos La Nave (“La Nave Apartments when Saturday”.)[3] It was the first time that I used the room scheme created by Ibáñez. It consisted of eight rooms where I portrayed the ordinary life of different groups: lefties, gays, lesbians, dopers, a young married couple, a traditional family, a young loner and a boarding house room. Years went by, and in 1990 I got around to repeating the room scheme to represent a variety of gay types: the young student in the attic who still has not accepted his homosexuality; the usual couple in which the one is promiscuous and the other is faithful; three friends sharing a room: the swishy, the Tom of Finland-type, and the office boy; and besides, the pub run by a kind of madam, where some neighbors meet a motley group.

SGF: Lola, the Alí Babá pub owner, is surrounded by gay men that she wants and tries to seduce, but they obviously reject her for being a woman. Is she inspired in anyone that you have ever known?

N: She works as a counterpoint among so much campy. If I had chosen a man, he would have been a problem in the relationships issue; a woman avoided problems for me instead, as there would be no rivalry with other fags to see who scores a misled good-looking man, or a hunky drunk.

SGF: What happened in 2007 when a government website considered Alí Babá y los 40 maricones as a recommended reading? Could you please explain it to the current reader? What did you feel about it?

N: One day someone suggested me to search on the web Alí Babá y los 40 maricones. I was not aware at all, and I just could not believe what I was reading. The socialist administration recommended the teachers to read it and keep up to date about what homosexual relationships are, and the Right Wing distorted it all, accusing the Ministry of Culture of corrupting school boys when making them read it. Bishops, journalists, radio stations and the whole right-winged mass media, from Castile to the Argentinean Pampas, asked for excommunicating each and every single member of the depraved socialist administration. I was all confused, as nobody from any of the two sides got in touch with me to ask my opinion.

SGF: Alí Babá y los 40 maricones is dedicated to Ocaña. Could you please explain the reader who Ocaña was and what he meant in the society of that time?

N: Ocaña meant a wake-up call in Barcelona 1970s. He was a stirrer and a revolutionist who, endowed with superb dramatic qualities, knew how to connect with his audience, striking a chord with them. Wherever he was (Las Ramblas,[4] a political meeting, the premiere of his films, a party or La Modelo),[5] Ocaña was never gone unnoticed; as striking as provoking, he proclaimed boisterously his sexual orientation and everybody’s right to live their lives freely and enjoy their own bodies as the most beautiful gift that Nature has given to us.[6]

SGF: Do you miss Ocaña? Do you think that we are in a time of political correctness that shouts out loud the need of many other Ocañas?

N: My life consists in giving up, healing my wounds and burying friends. With every dead friend, some places in my memory and irretrievable feelings are cut off inside me. Fortunately, I am easy going and try to accept getting older—something that never worried me much—and loneliness, a new situation in my life, something that I always tried to avoid by living with friends, in communes or as a couple. Today censorship is something unavoidable; repression wears new masks and crouches on the net or social networks, or is disguised as counter-terrorism. Today Ocaña would hold parties campaigning for revolutionary political groups, asking out loud through Las Ramblas for the support of immigrants, street vendors, neglected elderly, alcoholics frozen to death on the streets, or prostitutes’ free use right of their own bodies. . .Gays have been discriminated for centuries, and now we need to support every weak, vulnerable minor group.

SGF: Continuing with the political correctness issue, in Alí Babá y los 40 maricones you quote Kavafis, Mario Mieli and Marquis de Sade, three authors related to homosexuality, and (especially the latter two) polemical and controversial. Why did you choose these authors? Do you feel somehow identified with them, beyond the homosexuality topic?

N: Since its appearance in 1973, I treasure Recherches magazine number 12, “Trois Milliards de Pervers: Grande Encyclopédie des Homosexualités,” on which Deleuze, Foucault, Genet or Guattari collaborated, among others. Since it was published in 1979 in Spanish, Mario Mieli’s Homosexuality and Liberation: Elements of a Gay Critique (original title: Elementi di critica omosessuale) shines close to Tom of Finland’s complete works in my library; and, since my tender years, the books by Marquis de Sade has given pleasure to both my imagination and my cock. Kavafis, who is not my favorite poet, has been lying on my bedside table for long. As my creations are somehow a part of me, the logical thing is that they read and discuss authors closer to me.

SGF: I deduce from your description of Ernesto, the college boy in the attic, a certain criticism on the romantic, chaste homo saving himself for Prince Charming. Is he a type of homosexual that you dislike? Do you defend promiscuity against this attitude?

N: I had a friend who was the victim of a terrible disquisition: he could never have sex with someone he was not deeply in love with, since sex and love are two separate things for him. The boy in the attic suffers from immaturity, and a terrible repression above all. He refuses to have sex with a man that he likes, but he later masturbates while thinking of this man. As far as I have named my autobiography Un pacto con el placer (“An Agreement with Pleasure”), you can easily understand that, in the question of men, I consider myself greatly fond of at least—if not addicted to.

SGF: Tom and Tito are portrayed as an open relationship, whether Tito likes it or not. Tom cheats on him whenever he can, and Tito finally finds out and accepts it, though not his pleasure. Do you think that every homosexual couple will always fail in monogamy? According to you, is Tito submissive or permissive? Is Tom a morally guilty man, or just hopeless?

N: I fell in love with Alejandro[7] the very moment I met him, and, after a 36-year-long relationship, and more than a year since he died, I am still in love with him. I found too hard to overcome jealousy, dependence and exclusiveness. He was even more sexually active than me, and, if we had sex three times a day and later I discovered him having sex with another guy, then I pondered, if he was able to fuck for a fourth time, why should I stop him? Little by little we were meeting other men who occasionally came home to fuck with us both. We had sex with the same boyfriends for 15 or 20 years. We had an open relationship and, after some years, when any of these men finally chose me or Alejandro, we both still welcomed them home without incident. With the couple Tom and Tito I somehow tried to mock the concept of ordinary couple as a copy of the straight marriage.

SGF: To what extent do you think that the gay universe portrayed in Alí Babá y los 40 maricones is still present? Do you think that some changes have happened, and for better?

N: After the big shake-up which the discovery of AIDS meant, the increase in the rate of homosexual couples and the legalization of same sex marriage and adoption, I feel that the gays portrayed in this book are still archetypes and have not evolved at all. Today I should increase the number of apartments to try to picture other types who push the boundaries somehow: activists, agitators, crusaders committed to breaking the rules imposed and copied from stereotyped heterosexual relationships.

SGF: There is a noteworthy evolution in the comic; in the first strips you depict bareback sex, though in the last ones you highlight the use of condom in order to prevent sexually transmitted diseases. Was it an imposition by the publishing house? Was it a personal choice in regards to raise awareness among your readers?

N: I always tried to leave my creations free to fuck the way they wished. But there was a time in which I collaborated in “Póntelo, pónselo”[8] campaign first, and the campaign for HIV positive gays later, and it made sense to me that I could use my creations to support. There is a chapter in which La Borrega discovers that he is HIV positive, and I made the other characters show support for him.

SGF: What is your opinion on the current Spanish gay comic? Would you highlight any author or work in particular? Do you know any author who considers Nazario as an example?

N: Since I stopped illustrating comics to work in painting, I left the comic book world. I got interested in just a few graphic novels, and critics announced that these have made comic books achieve artistic maturity (putting comic on the same level than literature, just to depreciate the artistic interest of comic itself); they seem to me short-sighted and vague.

SGF: What are you working on now? What are your next projects?

N: I spent more than a year building my website, and three years writing my autobiography—one of its chapters, La vida cotidiana del dibujante underground (“The Ordinary Life of an Underground Illustrator”), will be published in May—; I have spent a lot of time scanning most of my comics to share freely on a hosting service, but I have eventually got censored. (Later, I created the blog nazariocanalla.blogspot.com, where I host them now.) I finished the 3rd part of Anarcoma, whose script I had sketched for years—1st and 2nd part had been summed up to be published in one book; La Cúpula publishing house is prolonging the project to edit both parts together—. I dream of being able to post in a blog the book La Barcelona de los 70 vista por Nazario y sus amigos (“Barcelona in the 70’s Seen by Nazario & Friends”), adding more pics and videos. After last year’s exhibitions of Turandot in the University of Seville, and another one about Censorship in Bilbao, a photography exhibition about Plaza Real,[9] and another one of works by me and Alejandro, I am preparing an audiovisual event about my pictures, photomontages and videos on Plaza Real through the years. I also need time to work on a script for a film on the atmosphere of Plaza Real and surrounding areas in the 70’s/80’s. This continuous frenzy lightens the grieving, traumatic absence of Alejandro, my boyfriend for 36 years and husband for five days.





[1] Nowadays Nazario’s work is exhibited in several Spanish museums, such as Reina Sofía in Madrid, or Museo de Arte Contemporáneo in Seville. He has also been awarded with Pablo Picasso Prize or Ministry of Culture’s Medalla de Oro de las Bellas Artes (“Fine Arts Golden Medal”), high honors in the Spanish cultural world.
[2] A humor magazine published from 1974 to 1978. It was considered a politically committed publication during the last period of the Franco dictatorship and the early years of the Transición Española.
[3] From Sábado, sabadete, camisa nueva y polvete (“When Saturday, a clean shirt and a quickie”): Popular sassy saying about the old day’s Spanish custom of changing clothes and having sex once a week on Saturdays.
[4] Iconic street in the city of Barcelona.
[5] Penitentiary center located in Barcelona.
[6] In addition to Nazario’s brilliant description, you can also see Spanish filmmaker Ventura Pons’s extraordinary documentary Ocaña, retrato intermitente (1978)—highly praised by Academy Award winner Fernando Trueba—for further information on José Pérez Ocaña (Cantillana, Seville, 1947 – 1983).
[7] Alejandro Molina (1951 – 2014). He was an artist, particularly devoted to sculpture. Although he was from Andalucía, his work is much more related to the city of Barcelona, where he designed the festivities decoration in Plaza Real for several years. Nazario and Alejandro met in 1978, and from that moment on they lived a beautiful story, unusual according to the traditional love relationship pattern, such as Nazario pictures it in this interview.
[8] Use it, make your partner use it: Motto of a popular media campaign for the use of condom to prevent sexual transmitted diseases among teenagers in Spain in the early 1990s, quite controversial due to the Catholic Church protest.
[9] An outstanding square in Barcelona, adjoining Las Ramblas, located in the tourist Gothic Quarter. 

January 24, 2015

Interview with Javier Sedano

Javier Sedano (Torrelavega, Cantabria, 1961) has talked to spanishgayfiction.blogspot.com about his first novel, Tras las puertas del corazón. The reader will find in this interview the pleasure of a contentful conversation, discussing issues such as nudism, sexuality, protest theatre, lack of values, hippie-style life, the historical development differences between Spain and the USA—Hope the reader enjoys Sedano’s speech as much as I’ve done.

SPANISH GAY FICTION: Tras las puertas del corazón has many speeches. But perhaps one of the most obvious is its defense of naturism. Up to what point nudism is important in your life? Do you think that it tends to be misunderstood? Many people—especially gay people—view nudist locations as strictly sexual meeting places.

JAVIER SEDANO: Nudism is a way of living in harmony with your environment, and that is the way I enjoy it whenever I can. It makes me feel alive and free, and of course those who have not been in contact with nudism tend to think that this is a way to be provocative and show off—far from reality, indeed.
And your last statement is true. Many gays find in nudist areas another place for sexual encounters, something that cannot be prevented. That was one of the reasons that led me to write Tras las puertas del corazón among many other motives: showing nudism as a normal thing that has nothing to do with sexuality.

SGF: If I am not wrong, Tras las puertas del corazón was your first novel. How was the experience not only to write it, but also to find a publisher?

JS: It was my first published book, but I had already four books completed and was writing the second part, Preguntas sin respuesta (“Unanswered Questions”). The experience was exciting, as I was facing a long, major story for the first time. The idea of publication came from my friend Raúl, who was the first one that read the novel and told me keenly that I had to send it to a publisher.
Odisea[1] answered before a month’s time. They found the story very interesting, and some months later the novel showed up in bookstores.

SGF: Your full name is Francisco Javier García Sedano. Some of your novels are published under the name of ‘Javier Sedano,’ and others by ‘Frank García.’ What are the reasons of choosing one name or another?

JS: Let us say that those books by Javier Sedano are more conventional, more romantic; novels where I immerse the characters in historic moments of our society, and the language is more precise. On the other hand, those by Frank García are more erotic and sassier as style is concerned.

SGF: Alex is a Spanish guy who travels to the USA in the mid-1960s, and lives through a series of experiences certainly impossible for him if he had remained in Spain. How much of your experience is there in Alex’s story? And how much of fantasy about the way you would like your life should have been is there in the life of Alex?

JS: I gave to my characters—not only Alex—the best of me. There are many true moments of my life and the lives of people who have surrounded me in the best moments of my existence. I gave to every one of them a part of my personality and then, of course, the freedom of fantasy that enriches all the characters even more. Regarding situations that I would have liked to live, they would not be Alex’s precisely, but Ray’s. Ray enjoys that restless spirit in me. The freedom to do whatever he wants and offer all his best to the others—I have never achieved that, nor even got closer to this.

SGF: Would you say that the hippie movement in the USA is for you the closest thing to an earthly paradise in contemporary history? Do you think that this philosophy is still alive in our times?

JS: The hippie movement as such was not so idyllic. They sought to live in harmony with life, with nature, with the environment wherever they were in and, above all, respect to your neighbor and the cause of peace. Anyway, as I see it, there was one problem: drugs. And in answer to your second question, I feel that this philosophy of life could be perfect and, in fact, there are some colonies and small towns recovered where many young people are living this way. The return to Nature…It would be perfect to live all together, creating a community without drugs, since I believe that they do well to no one.  

SGF: If I had to criticize the plot of the novel, it would be in relation to Ray’s and Alex’s roles as fathers. I still have reservations about the reasons why they kept themselves in the shadow of the lives of their children. It is just astonishing that two guys that give off so much love moved away from their own children. Use this moment to defend their motives, Javier...

JS: Neither of them is proud of this separation, this distance, but it was a way to show the readers how many mistakes you can make just by saying, “I will be there tomorrow…,” “Next week by all means we will meet…,” and so many other things over your life. If you realize, in this novel there is much criticism on social conventions and even situations we all have gone through or seen others making mistakes easy to solve if we take our time for ourselves.

SGF: I find curious that in your descriptions of open relationships jealousy rises up never. To what extent do you think that this is viable beyond fiction? Do you think that an open relationship where jealousy never arises is possible? Have you ever lived such a relationship?

JS: I am the sort of person who thinks that there is no room for jealousy if there is sincerity from both sides in a relationship. Jealousy is caused by mistrust and lack of self-confidence from oneself. If a half of the couple hides a situation, whatever it may be, from the other—in the novel this is also taken into account—, it must be done what I believe it is fair between two reasonable people: find the moment and talk about it. (It happens between Ray and Alex in one scene by the lake). And yes, I have lived a similar situation and it worked; the problem was that we had to break up for reasons that had nothing to do with jealousy. Today we are great friends.

SGF: Speaking of the sexuality issue…Ray and Alex are bisexual. Some people take for sure that bisexuality does not exist: you are straight or gay, but never both at the same time. The truth is that, though Ray and Alex can love women, they never love women as much as they love each other. Do you think that one can love with the same intensity both a man and a woman? And do you think it is possible a communal living as Ray and Alex making up a foursome with their wives who, by the way, love each other as well?

JS: In this novel I had the problem of trying to picture all kind of feelings and emotions that human beings can ever feel, as well as our ethical and moral codes. According to many readers, I achieved this. That was the main goal, and bisexuality—so punished by straight and gay people—had to be highlighted, just to show that love has nothing to do with labels, and you can certainly love a man just like a woman, or even love a man and a woman at the same time. Why not? I knew a relationship similar to Alex and Ray’s some years ago.

SGF: Alex’s story is clearly divided into two parts: the first one happens in the USA and the second is set in Spain. Both seem to work like the yin yang theory. It is obvious that the positive events take place in the first part, and the reader bumps into the most dramatic side of the story in the second part. Alex himself finds out his dark side as well. Did you have in mind this yin yang philosophy when considering the two-part construction of the novel? Could the reader consider a political reading of your choice?

JS: I feel that my characters live hard situations in both parts of the novel. We must bear in mind that the reason why they pack their bags and go to Spain is, in my opinion, one of the most shocking moments of the whole novel, though it is true that they will face the greatest difficulties in Spain. These are social and mainly emotional clashes. If you stop to think, you will realize nothing happens for the hell of it and, on the contrary, their lives will be in constant struggle with everything around them. They are two very lively beings, living day-to-day. But as I said before, I wanted to show all the human feelings, good and bad, and among the bad ones there are anger and hate, which blind Alex in a particular moment.

SGF: What do you remember of Spain in the Transición period?

JS: I was very young, but I remember some crazier years when everything taught as wrong in the past was viewed as something natural then. Many people were afraid of this. It was a vivid cultural, social, and political time. As Alex says, the winds of freedom blowing in Spain were the same as the ones they had got to know in the USA years before.

SGF: One of the aspects that I find most remarkable is that a great part of the narrative is based on conversation, which is unhurried, thoughtful, and respectful. Did you do this as an example of what should happen in real life, as a way of defending a positive attitude in the exchange of opinions in a world where this feature does not seem to be in vogue precisely?

JS: Yes, in my novels I want to give a great importance to conversations, as each and every one can express the way they are, think and feel. As you say, most of today’s problems actually arise out of the fact that people do not talk; they do not sit down and speak calmly and, worst of all, they do not listen to the others when they are speaking.
We could say we live in the Age of Individualism, something that has been very stealthily instilled in us and we are unaware of this. We can see people who are not speaking but yelling everyday on TV. Politicians do not listen, but even insult each other. Courtesy, greetings…all that is rot in oblivion. Everyone wants to impose their law and way of thinking, and even people on the streets or terraces do not chat, but text message.

SGF: You can also guess some didactic intention in many of these conversations. Nelson Mandela said: “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” Have you ever considered that Tras las puertas del corazón may change the reader’s life philosophy?

JS: It was unintentional, though other people have told me the same. Tras las puertas del corazón is a novel straight to the heart of the reader’s brains. I sought to make flesh and blood creations, not ink and paper ones. I wanted to show the reader positive values that we are losing in favor of pointless criticisms, desire for power, unachievable ambition, contempt for contempt’s sake, despising what is surrounding us…Above all, human beings are able to achieve their goals without needing to step on anyone; on the contrary, the point is sharing.

SGF: It is quite odd that a gay couple does not endure homophobic attacks throughout their relationship during the 1960s, 70s, 80s, 90s…Homophobia appears occasionally in two moments of the novel: the mention of the Stonewall riots, and as a feature in the character of Laura. Keeping Ray and Alex’s love story clear of homophobic conflicts, was it a voluntary choice from you? If that is so, why? 

JS: I did not delve into the issue of homophobia as I did not feel it was necessary in the story, though it is subtly mentioned. I was sure that the time for a deep treatment in a stark, shocking novel would come up someday, as it happened when completing the trilogy with Corazones en libertad (“Free Hearts”), where the main topic is homophobia.

SGF: Ray and especially Alex are really committed to the theatre world during their stay in both San Francisco and Barcelona. Long time ago, theatre was a means of making the audience socially aware, protesting against abuses of power, breaking the social mold. What is your relationship with theatre? Do you think that there is still this sort of theatre, or is it pretty light in our time?

JS: I discovered theatre when I was a child, along with my mother, through  “Estudio 1” on TVE;[2] I later had my amateur efforts when I lived in my hometown, directing short plays by me or some friend. This is one of those passions, together with cinema, that I am always willing to live intensely whenever I can.
And in answer to your second question…Yes, that independent drama defending a theatre closer to the audience, created by small companies and performed in small theaters, is back. The economic crisis has stimulated imagination again, and today there is no need for a big theater to see a good play. There are wonderful plays in small theaters.

SGF: What are you working on now? What are your most immediate projects?

JS: Now I am promoting my new novel, Al filo de la pasión (“On the Edge of Passion”) an erotic novel. The female protagonist, high class thirtysomething Carmen, a passionate, intelligent, beautiful woman, meets León, a 20-year-old boy anxious to discover sexuality in full. The two of them will live the most intense sexual experiences, with continuous surprises throughout the story. It is published through Amazon, and under the pen name of Javier Sedano. [You can buy the novel here.]
In a few days Macho Alfa (“Alpha Male”), a gay erotic novel, will also be published—through Amazon as well—under the pen name of Frank García in this case.
Apart from that, I am working on a play, and very soon I will start a series project shared with a friend, an extremely modern comedy.




[1] Odisea Editorial: Spanish publisher devoted to LGBT-themed literature.
[2] TVE: Televisión Española (“Spanish Television”): this is the public national TV channel in Spain; “Estudio 1”: a very popular TV series, showing from 1964 to 1984, in which a celebrated play—national or international—was performed in each episode (e.g., Reginald Rose’s Twelve Angry Men, José Zorrilla’s Don Juan Tenorio…). This program format was recovered in modern times, though unsuccessfully.

January 21, 2015

Arcadian Americana

On Javier Sedano’s Tras las puertas del corazón (“Behind the Heart’s Door”)

Definitely, one of the books that has shocked me most in recent times. This novel is a box full of surprises!

The main plot of this 2009 novel tells the story of Jaime, a young, inexperienced journalist in charge of writing the memoirs of Alejandro, the bigwig of the newspaper Jaime is working for. Jaime does not know much about Alejandro: he is a dark individual, a wealthy, grouchy man who shut himself in his faraway manor long time ago. Those who are now picturing in their minds a creepy, stooped over man with a long white beard, leaning on a twisted stick—cannot be more wrong. First surprise: Alejandro is actually an attractive silver fox.

So—what is Alejandro’s story? Quite an enthralling one, indeed!

In the mid-1960s, Alejandro—from now on he will be called Alex—, a college boy from Spain, lands in New York to get a master’s degree. Alex was born under a lucky star as his roommate happens to be Ray, a hot, likeable nudist. Ray acts as his cicerone in the City at first. Little by little, he will become his best friend in America until he finally, after a short period of secrecy, brings up his bisexuality. What is Alex’s reaction then?, the reader asks. Well—Let us say love is in the air.

Claiming that the thing between Ray and Alex is a great love story falls short. Ray does not only become Alex’s lover, but also his closest friend, his confidant, his spiritual guide, his coworker, his travel companion over his life…And the reader is a (widemouthed) witness to every stage of this relationship. Both Ray and Alex represent the physical stereotype of the perfect man: slender, muscular alpha male—but brandishing an exotic feature: a sexy, silky long hair. This info would be just by the by if it did not come together with a groundbreaking life philosophy. (I am afraid this is not only in the 1960s, but also nowadays.) Ray and Alex live in communion with nature, a point that makes them into human beings with special sensitivity. This leads them therefore to deal with their private lives and jobs—they work as journalists: Alex as a reporter, Ray as a photographer—in a rather receptive, spiritual, artistic way. Thanks to Ray, Alex discovers a new face of his sexuality, an original way of living, and also a different family standard. Ray, along with his sisters Star and Moon, make up a trio of siblings truly sympathetic, open-minded, tolerant, and caring. When Ray confesses to the family that he is gay and loves Alex, they first fall silent after the stunning announcement, but it will not take too long before they all give him a hug and say it is okay. Remember, in the 1960s!

Do not think of Ray and Alex living in the woods, ignoring the mankind. Sedano frames their story in the latest events of that moment. There are references to the Vietnam War (Ray, as you may guess, avoids the fight), the 1967 Summer of Love, the New Communalism, the Stonewall riots…Ray and Alex are totally cut to fit in the hippie movement: free love, nudism, life in commune, human-animal bonding, attachment to natural energies—A series of issues that will delight not only those who long for the hippie times, but also those who could not live it. Nevertheless, there is a point Sedano does not seem to agree with: experimenting with drugs. He even condemns tobacco, so Ray and Alex scarcely smoke grass from time to time.

There in San Francisco, the two of them fall in love with a pair of women, get married and become fathers. But they never stop loving each other. And their wives know it and respect it, as they love each other too. No wonder these four bodies ooze happiness in full…Still, a couple of setbacks make these two men fly to Spain to cover the booming Transición Española[1] in the mid-1970s. This will mean the end of their American Dream. Up to this point, Tras las puertas del corazón has been a kind of Arcadia, a quasi-pastoral novel where the protagonists have discussed the highest spiritual issues, and lived the most rewarding experiences. The second part becomes dirtier. Spain is the land where this couple will face the crudest events of their lives (here we get to know why Alex, that kind-hearted man from the past, eventually turned into a kind of tormented hermit); thus, America symbolizes the Paradise they should have never ever fled from. Never mind...Every story has a beginning and an end. And the end of this novel brings more than one surprise to Jaime as well as the reader.

Javier Sedano is not a sophisticated, style-obsessed author. However, his narration, so direct, so genuine, so meaningful, is capturing us at every turn.  There is one particular sex scene between Ray and Alex when in Barcelona that I enthusiastically recommend to all the potential homoerotic fiction authors: this is not only a high-energy sex scene, this is also affectionate, romantic, visceral… heartfelt. The reader can easily sense the feelings between these two characters while—it cannot be expressed otherwise—making love. Yet, do not think of Tras las puertas del corazón as a mere homoerotic novel: I should call it a novel of education, but even this literary label seems to me quite simple to put into words what Javier Sedano pictures in his work.

Anyway, trying to explain this novel seems to me a complete waste of time: this is just an impossible task. In 1939, when Metro Goldwyn Mayer company released its comedy masterpiece Ernst Lubitsch’s Ninotchka, the audience could read on the film posters: “Don’t pronounce it—See it!” Regarding this tagline, and as Tras las puertas del corazón is concerned: Don’t pay attention to my review—Just read the novel! It is experience that really counts.



[1] I have already mentioned this period in Spanish history in my previous entry Interview with Paloma Pedrero, footnote number [3].