Interview Reflections: Music, Memory, and the Peruvian Novel

This interview compiles responses from a Nobel Prize winner based on a survey. The transcription, together with the answers, sheds light on several aspects of the author’s long and storied life as a novelist. In this conversation, she admits to crying often in solitude at her Madrid home while drafting one of the real characters in the book.

He crafted a Peruvian tale reminiscent of Don Quixote in which a character seeks meaning through science, music, or a phenomenon. Do you think this could be a fitting lens on the human adventures described in the novel?

Toño Azpilcueta does not drift into madness for adventure; he pursues a fixed belief about the integrative power of Creole music. Yet a human dimension can always be woven into the narratives, and this remains a precise view of the character and his past.

Azpilcueta’s fixation drives the book, but there are quiet moments where the narrator imagines an ideal country where music and the Peruvian waltz unify attitudes and citizens. The joy music brings also echoes the patriotism celebrated by the narrator. Do you feel a link between this character and Peru’s history and its music?

Yes, music, especially the Peruvian waltz, became a bridge to the author’s roots and helped align attitudes and civic feelings. The joy that Toño Azpilcueta finds in music mirrors the patriotism implied by the narrator. A deep connection with the character, with pride and love for self, and even utopian dreams, is clear.

Some readers note humor alongside the presence of Aunt Julia and the Author, much like a radio soap opera revived in Lima through the pages. Is the novel you wrote circulating there as well?

Radio, the novel, and the items listed evoke fond memories of Peru. The title is a collaboration with Maribel Luque from the agency Carmen Balcells, chosen to reflect a sense of local overtones. The phrase refers to a tradition understood in parts of Peru, so loyalty to the agent and publisher helped shape a title that felt fitting and expressive.

While writing, do other ideas and dreams visit you, alongside earlier styles that influenced your current work?

Stories and characters speak to the author as they emerge, almost shaping themselves. In the process, inventions arise and are chosen for their personal resonance. The book borrows many early memories of Peru, from landscapes to music to certain figures, with Puerto Eten recalled from childhood.

Creole music shapes the book’s atmosphere. When did this mood become central, guiding the narrative to its final form?

The author appreciated the idea that Creole music voices the book. Listening to songs from youth while writing created an intimate rhythm. This connection makes the novel feel closest to the author’s heart among all works, inviting readers to share in these imagined musical fantasies through Toño Azpilcueta.

What role does the idea of a Peruvian utopia play in shaping the country’s portrayal through music?

As the story evolved, several thoughts emerged that mirror a personal vision of the country. It blends compassion with moments of horror and faded hopes, expressing a mixture of hopeful and frustrated illusions about what Peru could become.

The book’s landscape includes the narrator’s children, who share in the stark images of the dump described in the story. How did this vision influence the final writing of I Devote My Silence to You?

A journey to the northern coast of Peru was pivotal. Childhood memories of sand dunes and rough seas resurfaced, guiding the author back to Peru. Witnessing the dump’s harsh realities connected the narrative to a side of Peruvian reality that is often avoided. Years pass, and the noise of the world grows louder, making that brief family overland trip especially meaningful. The structure of the work reflects that journey and the reflections gathered along the way.

Garbage and rats symbolize a harsh social reality, counterpointed by music. Was this opposition central to the initial ideas, or did the visit reveal it as a defining element of the world?

The character’s origin blends grim scenes with bright ideas, including a memory of mice in a crib that emerged during a visit to Puerto Eten. That moment shaped a beloved figure and raised questions about abandonment and belonging, which became central to the world created in the book.

The cajoneros originate in Peru and were later embraced in Spain under royal patronage. What are your thoughts on a monarch who champions this symbol woven into your world?

The monarch is seen as a capable figure who highlights the cajoneros, a craft and musical tradition that enriches Peruvian identity. This recognition adds depth to the cultural narrative and strengthens the bond between music and nationhood.

Cecilia Barraza and Chabuca Granda appear as real figures in the book, along with many fictional characters. Do you sense a blur between reality and fiction, or is reality unsurprisingly intertwined with fiction in your work?

Chabuca Granda remains a universal symbol, bringing Peruvian music to global venues. Cecilia Barraza stands out as a distinctive singer whose voice shapes memorable interpretations. These memories, gathered in Madrid, underline a deep emotional connection to Peruvian music. The author recalls hearing Cecilia Barraza with admiration, crying at times and feeling a profound link to the country’s musical pulse. Both real and imagined figures share space in the narrative, enriching its texture.

On a call from Lima, Morgana Vargas Llosa, the author’s younger sister, remembers the family’s early involvement with their father and how those journeys helped map out geography later explored in the novels. The scene resonates as a tribute to the author’s latest work.

Over the years, Álvaro, Gonzalo, and Morgana traveled with their father, accompanying him on field trips that shaped the sense of place seen in his books. His wife, Patricia, joined on some trips around the world, but Peru offered childhood memories that later anchored the fiction.

The author’s lifelong pursuit of music as a literary force reached a culmination in a novel that honors that early passion. Morgana watched as the family explored scenes and landscapes that could anchor characters like Lalo Molfino, who inhabits a stark, almost unforgiving setting. The journeys still inform the work today, with scenes drawn from Peru, Palestine, and Congo, where real places meet imagined ones.

In this novel, the author and her children visited Puerto Eten in northern Peru, the birthplace of Lalo Molfino, in a setting described as difficult yet defining. Morgana recalls the northern coast as a place carried in memory since childhood, where the beach, sea, and railway anchor the narrative, linking a child abandoned to a priest who gives him a surname.

The road trip was undertaken by car, a deliberate choice to feel the rhythm of travel and take notes as the author always did. Over the years, Álvaro and Gonzalo continued to accompany the journeys, with Álvaro serving as chief photographer for the book’s various stages.

Álvaro emphasizes that the father often visited the settings after drafting the core, a process that defined the collaborative exploration in 2022. The family traveled the coast by car, with no guide, sharing the experience between Lima, Trujillo, and Chiclayo, visiting Puerto Eten and nearby sites in a single extended journey.

Near Puerto Eten lies a landfill that Morgana evokes as a crucial element of the story’s world. Álvaro notes that the overwhelming accumulation of refuse becomes a character in its own right, as important as Toño Azpilcueta or Lalo Molfino in the fiction.

Music remains a throughline in the narrative, echoing the author’s love for human geography. This ongoing thread is celebrated as the central hero of the latest work, a testament to how sound and place shape a life’s storytelling.