We Have All

It has been a true honor to be able to share the writing space with women so prominent and prepared for the literature, in this compendium of short stories.

For me the title chosen means that all of the women that we write we can feel included symbolically in this book. Further, we are many that we want to continue telling stories.
To belong or not to belong to Castile and Leon, was not the issue, but rather the sense of belonging that binds us to this earth. Perhaps more than any I feel that I am entitled to talk about that sense of belonging that has grown in me. Celia Corral, who prefaced the project, sums it up very well in a word, when he says: we are 29 writers of short stories, related Castile and León. The links are constructs subjective, intimate, (you are born or not in this place so precious), the links are immersed in the emotions, perceptions, feelings more complex; it is all there, what we are about and also what moves us away from a place, and with whom we share that space.

I have built a bond with Castile and León, and especially with this beautiful city of Salamanca. It has not been easy, but it has been a thorough process. I began absorbing the nature, the landscape, the geography, as I write in my story (The Last Crossing). I did what my brain archaic dictated to me. And simultaneously I was apprehending its beauty, not only the aesthetics of the city, but what you feel that you can do yours, because for the soul, no forms but images nutritious and essential.
“Our relationship with the earth, in dialogue with our relationship with the world,” says Celia. So it has been for me. And this brings me to the fact of the identity, which also mentions Celia, and that I believe is a construct dynamic, never static: what I have been, and what my ancestors I have already been given, I have integrated what I am now going to be.

It is at this point when I want to emphasize that writing has also played a very important role, both to assimilate my settlement in these lands, as to me to recognize myself in the changes. The writing and the reading of others, are as soundboards that you are giving color and disclosure of my personal experiences: the reality without the fiction seems to be incomplete, say many writers and poets, in one way or another. I agree. It is for this reason that this book, more than is necessary because we are women, has been a success because we are writers. We have become this wonderful instrument that it will wave in the ears of many, a few, or perhaps a single person, no matter...then it will make sense to each word.

To me as a reader I would also like to comment on some topics and share phrases underlined, wonderful, that are scattered throughout the compendium, by his background reflective:
In the stories of my companions Charo Alonso and Naomi Sabugal, The witches of Zarapayas, and, Fanny, and Happiness, is chosen as the center theme of the mythical female characters dark: the witches, which by extension are bad, whores, women insurrectas, irreverent, savage when you are moved by instinct; but it is also wise knowledge of plants and roots that became remedies for many diseases; and others interested in the arts, who occupied many times to places that only the men thought they could have. On these female characters has been projected to be all negative, so that it has been easier to put the evil and the mystery away the logos, the reason, the logic represented by the masculine, look psychic that you also enjoy and suffer.

How do you live the fear so close to the love? ask Susana Barragués Sainz as a narrator in the story Didactics of the Velocipede. And then we understand the paradox of rejection along with the seduction that unfolds polymorphs aspects of the feminine.

Then, appears The Forbidden Words, the text of Celia, the pregnancy as hell (how can you say that!) : “...what little they know of their depth who have never approached him,” says the narrator to put in evidence an experience difficult to reconcile for many women. The text desidealiza motherhood, the clean banal stereotypes, humanize, without shame, to the force of a realism breathtaking. And this what makes Silvia Pérez, in his story Mom chick, when showing us a mother exhausted, heartbroken, vilified, that ends up being the victim of the absurd when it comes to the possible pain of the loss. In contrast, Garlic Diz Squat, narrated through a young character male, in which “a dream and the feeling of unease” compass him about, and “the darkness is so deep that it doesn't matter that you open or close your eyes.” Here we are in the land of the dreams that we don't want that to be truth, and realities that we wish we were only nightmares...

On you will find with other stories, and characters of men and women, which will keep saying phrases with a magnificent decisively: ...”I Believed in men, in the dark mystery of men, that are within a temple, where he burns, while living, a holy fire,” by Ana Isabel Conejo in The Death of Cyrus. And in the Novelist Anonymous, of Isabel Bernard, who aptly describes the craft of writing: “writers don't really know where to take us for our word games. The literature can be help of our fate, or sometimes drag you to a journey irrational.”

And to close I want to transcribe the stanza of a poem which has also had a large ripples in the valuation of my life in Castile and Leon:

Hectic as the heart of a bird,
trembling about wet slate
trusting as bees in the mouth,
so we love the of this earth,
with the body of franco and deep,
defeated by the light the thickets.

Maribel Andrew Llamero
“Bus Fermoselle”


I greatly appreciate this experience.

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