Jorge Herralde tuvo ojo con Alberto Olmos (Segovia, 1975), Andrés Neuman (Buenos Aires, 1977) y Andrés Barba (Madrid, 1975). En 2010, más o menos una década después de que aquellos desconocidos veinteañeros saliesen finalistas del premio que convoca la editorial Anagrama, los tres parecen bien asentados en el panorama literario español. Cada uno a su manera, cada uno con su estilo. Los tres han sido elegidos por Granta hace poco como jóvenes autores representativos de la literatura en español. En 1998 Alberto Olmos quedó finalista del Herralde con A bordo del naufragio, tras Roberto Bolaño y sus detectives salvajes. Al año siguiente Neuman sacó medalla de plata con Bariloche, tras Marcos Giralt Torrente, autor de París . Neuman repitió puesto en 2003 con Una vez Argentina, esta vez secundando a El pasado Alan Pauls. And Andrew Beard, meanwhile, was a finalist with Katia's sister in 2001 in an edition of the prize won with Alejandro Gándara Latest news from our world .
twenties may have a finalist list over the Herralde and I've jumped. No idea. Nor do I intend to prove a theory, only to note a curious fact that I had been thinking since a few months. More than anything because I know relatively well the work of Olmos and Neuman, who interviewed for protein, and that Beard had not read (and that he had wanted to test porn ceremony).
is a pragmatist, a month ago I searched the library and found some of it Katia's sister. I read in one go on a trip Madrid-Bilbao. Okay, I did not estupendísima novel, yet he read me the whole, I enjoyed several passages and made me think of something pretty fucked up at my age, what was I doing at 26 years while this guy was perpetrating a book in which mothers prostitutes can work, have a butcher boyfriend peaceful war to show that given a daughter who dances in a slum to Elizabeth Berkley in Showgirls and another that lost innocence while trying to link Maine's a Mormon?
What was I doing? I imagine that many others: looking for work, spend my money on beer talking nonsense in bars, operated a grain of acne that have withstood the test of time ... Stuff. Meanwhile, Andrew Barba wrote passages like this in a monologue that is the grandmother of the novel:
your mother first, and now Katie. Then come thou, homely as you but I'm sure you also pick up because you would not believe those who really care about how pretty or how ugly you are, come and tell me "Grandma, I dance a striptease", you'll get as she put on her other day your sister when Here we were dancing, it seemed that he was trying to warm up to George, who is not a bad man but a man, silent and such, you need your mother, you will not get a lot of headaches or ask explanations, nor is easy to find that, with his shop and things, not handsome but who wants a handsome man, always giving the cute ending problems, the physicist has an air to your grandfather, broad shoulders, good gut, ass down, half bald, silent, better to be silent, your grandfather was quiet too, sometimes, it's funny but I hardly remember your grandfather, there are things that seem that the will always remember and forget, the worst thing is that even I forget embarrassed. Oh, Nuria, my child, forget them and when you realize that you forgot you spend a moment of shock, yes, scare, things that when you said you were living whatever happens I will not forget this, and suddenly I do not remember, remember you did not want to forget, remember that happened, but can not remember things, and not even know if you were guilty or not to forget, remember that it was good or painful, are still there but as when you wake from a sleep and know that was horrible but do not know what exactly, are you sure it was a nightmare but do not know what kind, who are you sleeping lately that you forget that I wake up tomorrow aquí, en vuestra casa, y no sabéis quién soy, “¿Quién es usted?”, dice tu madre. “¿Y esta vieja?”, dice Katia, y tú no dices nada, tú me miras así, como me estás mirando ahora, que no se sabe si eres tonta o te haces la tonta, si entiendes o no, y yo me voy hasta tu madre y le digo que me abrace, eso que a tu madre nunca le han gustado los mimos, no a Nuria, Nuria era distinta, y después me dais de comer, me dejáis ropa pero como se le deja ropa a una extraña que da lástima, que no tiene dónde caerse muerta, me decís “Cómase esto, póngase esto” como si no me conocierais de nada, y cuando se hace de noche me obligáis a marcharme, me decís “Puerta”, amablemente, sí, pero “Puerta”, me despierto y casi me da miedo cuando aparece tu madre, por eso no me tomo las pastillas que dijo el médico, no es que me olvide, es que estoy cambiando, en el balneario me lo dicen las chicas nuevas de la limpieza, me dicen “Está usted un poco rara últimamente”, pero no es que esté rara, es que cambio, no sólo cambian las personas de cuarenta años, o las de treinta, también se cambia después, se cambia distinto pero se cambia, de pronto hay cosas que te dejan de gustar, cosas que te habían gustado toda la vida te dejan de gustar, recuerdas cosas que parecen mentira, de hace muchísimos years and not know what you did yesterday, or even what you did this morning but when you were seven years a boy looked at you in school, Gustavo, was named Gustavo. (...)
downside of having 35 years and read books that others wrote to veintialgo existential is that puts you, like when you listen to a teenager talk about football that wins in one day what you doing in a month. Of course, the best of at least 35 years and find people your age that you like how you write is that silly feeling of returning to school and feel your classmate, not the author, who has read the text aloud . And that ... That's nice. Latest
feathers 
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