Back to the origins as a starting point. The folds of memory fill the intimate map of captive memories and emotions that writing releases. Julia Soria, 73, makes her debut by crossing some Blue Fields (Alba editorial) where forgetfulness and renunciation, learning and discovery live. Backlights and shadows. The heroine is a middle-aged woman, where the past grows and the future begins to decline. It’s time to thank and it goes back to yesterday. The sale of his grandparents’ house takes him to a desolate village on the Castilian plateau, somewhere in Spain, a place filled with connotations that led to a childhood trapped in the notebooks he wrote in that decade of the ’60s, when he was only twelve years old. The rural world was still flourishing and resisting the compulsions of modern equipment. Living with her grandparents was an important school where she learned the customs and traditions of nature in a sweaty working environment and in its purest form. It’s tough, too. A landscape in which the essence does not accept carelessness or indifference. The struggle for life. A wise and strong grandmother became the guide of a path of knowledge that provided a legacy that writing expects to leave its mark and meaning.
Landscape as a character to consider. Soria’s prose digs deep into her, shattering her soul, aligning reality and associations with her delicate use of language. The naked poetry of realism without make-up. The heroine, the daughter of a “difficult and poor” country, “wants to write down everything that memory filters, perhaps embellishes, perhaps forgets. The said, the unsaid; what is hidden from me and what cannot.” Isn’t literature perhaps a way of asking questions that no one can answer anymore?
A novel of loss and discovery, of formation and transformation, Campos Azules avoids melancholy and is wary of pain. Choose the nobility, the splendor of the roots: “It moves me to think that my true identity is there. I come from that chickpea, that bran, that wheat. The simplicity of a hard life and the effort of some people who have carved something deeper than the hollows of the world». This is where the big challenge comes in: Preventing a house that holds so many memories from the past from being demolished. Woodworm, debris, scars of time. With early goodbyes, the novel deviates to times of emigration and the school of life if you want to know what the weather will be like the next day: “You have to keep your eyes peeled.” Let’s listen to grandma’s lectures: “Observe calmly, smell the air and see which way the wind is blowing, see what color the sky is when the sun goes down. Any sign matters.” Do you want to learn how to make bread? Grandma will teach you.
The explosion of literature as a window to other worlds (thanks, Tom Sawyer and your friend Huckleberry Finn), an unexpected explosion of unexplained brutality (which will later cover the arrival of first love), death as an unwelcome guest evoking a mystery. Secrets and Lies. Special investigations. Dreams and decisions without going back. “I will learn to be quiet and listen to the silence. It will be my refuge.” And write, write, write to “recover all that really matters and maybe that’s how I can find myself.” Learn to nest so you can fly. Reflecting the echoes of a rural past threatened with death, and scrutinizing the evolution of a woman in different times and conditions with astonishing wisdom, the exuberantly beautiful Campos Azules concludes with a serene, deep and beautiful invitation from the protagonist. his life. His grandmother would be proud of him.
Source: Informacion
