Katie Brown
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Recently, I have begun to doubt whether I can rightly say that my mother tongue—the one that I feel is part of my identity—is Italian, and my acquired language is Spanish. I use the term “language” he... -
At seven, she learns to read and write in Caracas, with many difficulties. She believes that she will never learn to read, Ls and Ms torture her. She goes to school, after her first sobs, she chats to...
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On the night of March 9, 2019, in the middle of the national blackout that had begun two days earlier, outside the Hospital Central de Valencia, the journalist Heberlizeth González bumped into a women... -
On the night of April 27, 1971, just hours after being released from prison (he had been arrested by order of a military tribunal on March 20 of that same year for “having plotted against the powers o... -
The ghost of my father first appeared to us three hours after the funeral. He was sat on the sofa in the study, with a book open in his lap and the lamp on (it wasn’t clear why: it was only five in th... -
More than half a century ago, in 1962, the Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa was awarded the prestigious Seix Barral prize, in Barcelona, Spain, for his novel The Time of the Hero. This event... -
… Holy Virgin of Barajas, I promise you it’s not a tango, I just like whistling, whistling any old thing, I whistle a lot, and that’s why I always make this face when people here in Madrid shout at me... -
Lamento della Ninfa is the first record I put on, barefoot in your strange and beautiful house, half empty, still unfinished and lacking a garden, on a mountain in a wide valley, so wide that t...
