Only rain is a novel in which the invisible lives with the tangible. Mediums, spirits, disappearances, watches with history … and a protagonist marked by difference, Candeloria. The social worker Pilar González writes from magical realism, pain, memory and a very human look. We talk to her about the extraordinary, loss and daily magic.
I just finished reading his novel and Anthony Blake has come to mind, which said his novel is real or fruit of our imagination?
Well, the novel has a part that is real – the story of Dai Vernon, the illusionist who cheated Houdini – but the rest is pure invention. Although, who knows … sometimes the imagination advances to reality. And deep down, as Blake said, where does one end and the other begins?
Dai Vernon, Houdini, magic closely … of enthusiasm and illusionism is also lived.
Absolutely. I think it is necessary. Not everything can be reality. Illusion is essential to sustain us, to make sense of everyday life. Sometimes what allows us to move on is a spark of hope, even if it seems unreal.
The UME in the novel is the union of medium and spiritualists. A premeditated irony? Do we live times that are more fear than any ghost?
(Laughs). Well, yes, the first thing that comes to mind is the military emergency unit. But here is an association of people with extrasensory abilities. For them, as for any other group, the group is important, a means of support, a place to feel accepted, understood. And yes, sometimes what we live in everyday reality is more afraid than the invisible. We live times that are more scary than any ghost, and that is reflected in the novel. Just look around.
The protagonist is a “rare” girl, overweight, hypersensitive, different. Today we would say that it is a “geek.” What is especially interested in these children who do not fit?
It seems important to make visible the rejection suffered by different people. Bullying is very present in schools and affects many children. Candeloria represents those children who do not fit, who receive looks of contempt or pity. I was interested in giving voice to those who live on the margins, to those who do not conform to a fee. Because there is also beauty and dignity there.
One of the axes of the novel is the pain for the loss of a loved one. Writing about Víctor Garrido’s guilt was also a way to exorcise his own fears?
Writing about guilt seemed to me to address a universal theme. We all feel guilty at some point, by an action or an omission. I think that allows readers to identify with the characters, with their wounds. And when a story achieves that, when he awakens that reflection in who reads it, he becomes more powerful, more human.
Finally, the tribute he makes in the novel to the Circle of Readers has excited me. Is it also a wink to that generation for which books were a magical door?
Yes, no doubt. For my generation, that was exciting, waiting for the catalog, choosing a book, that someone came to bring it … It was a magical experience, a ritual. I wanted to pay tribute to that way of approaching reading, which for many was fundamental and that today is a bit forgotten between digital and immediate. It was a way of saying that books are still a door, although sometimes we forget to open it.