Dense with reflection, the interview reveals how Pilar Eyre felt about not telling the story exactly as she imagined. She admits there was a worry about explaining and defending her choices, yet after completing When We Were Yesterday, she is genuinely pleased with how it turned out. The novel opens as a social history flavored with humor and a romantic thread, then deepens into a gritty generational saga filled with passion and dramatic, even tragic, turns.
Is this book especially meaningful?
Yes. It contains many elements drawn from Eyre’s private life, though presented as fiction. It traces a generation from 1968 to 1992, a period when women began reshaping themselves and the world around them. Eyre believes that fictionalizing her experiences helps give her characters credibility and emotional truth.
Open a scene titled a perfect gentleman Yesterday Time, which places Franco in Barcelona and spans from 1968 to 1992. The trilogy will move toward the present, a era she knows intimately.
I am uncertain about future projects. Eyre has ideas in her mind about new stories, but she is not sure which generation to explore next. She has written about her parents’ era; now she wonders if she can portray her own generation and her son’s, by drawing from personal history.
The book also contrasts values between mother and daughter, an aspect that may surprise readers.
Beyond historical context, the work centers on a mother and daughter’s love story, with a touch of fiction that she believes helps people endure. Carmen reflects traits of Eyre’s mother, and Silvia mirrors her own experiences. Eyre herself faced tuberculosis and spent years in a small town with her mother, a memory that shaped the narrative. The story suggests love’s power to move mountains and spark revolutions, a love that fills a lifetime and gives meaning to it all.
The novel reflects your love as passion moves mountains and makes revolutions
Can the characters be described as coming from different social classes?
Eyre grew up in a right‑wing, bourgeois family yet always felt out of place, like a fraud in journalism and literature. She approaches these worlds with a clear, critical eye, writing about people she knows from the inside out.
Is the work feminist in tone?
In Eyre’s view, the left and the right shared sexist attitudes in equal measure. The struggle belonged to the women who faced dismissiveness from men who offered little support. Eyre notes that during those years a woman who allowed herself to be touched could be labeled a prostitute, while marriage remained a social expectation. This reality persisted well beyond the nineteenth century.
The biography of a king also appears in the book, portrayed in a way that highlights pressures and public perception. The narrative includes a scene where a royal figure is seen with someone in a private setting, reflecting a period when the royal family’s carefully curated image was challenged. Eyre suggests that such moments reveal truths that the public might prefer to keep private.
Is it difficult to report on real houses and real people?
There was a high personal cost. Eyre faced significant pushback and endured substantial pressure. Her strength comes from her readership, who encourage her to continue writing. She acknowledges that she might retire someday, but for now the readers’ anticipation fuels her work.
She has also touched on the topic of a relationship with Ainhoa Armentia, noting its impact and saying it was significant like a bomb in her life.
Did Eyre anticipate the royal family becoming so candidly depicted?
She does not pretend to make things crude, but acknowledges that some events could not be ignored. A divorced queen and a visible infanta, alongside the multifacted issues of fidelity and public image, are explored. Eyre asserts that she can illustrate and articulate her viewpoints regarding Corinna’s allegations without backing down.
The possibility of Don Juan Carlos returning to live in Spain is addressed; Eyre insists that such a return is unlikely in the near term, yet she contends that a public, dignified death in Spain remains a plausible end for a monarch who has faced many trials.
Why stay silent at times?
Eyre prefers silence about matters she lacks solid proof for or cannot defend in court. She remains cautious about revealing what could harm others close to her. What is known is only a portion of the larger picture.
Do current times and the monarchy matter to readers today?
Her speculative answer is that public figures can continue without scandal if they maintain a steady, low profile and let their work speak for itself. Eyre does not pretend to predict the monarchy’s fate, but she suggests that discipline and quiet competence matter more than sensational headlines.