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YELLOW OF FELIX ROMEO

Félix Romeo met ten years ago at a conference organized by the editorial Language of Cloth in the Casa de America in Madrid. I was surprised how warm it was, despite its look of nightclub bouncer. Defending their ideas with passion, and could literally go down into the ring for them: in one of the tables, and did not reach an agreement with someone in the audience, Felix jumped on a table and faced the second is irrelevant . Security guards had to intervene to avoid the blows. In my long career at conferences and book fairs, was the first (and so far only) time I saw a writer willing to go beyond words for an argument.

Felix wrote two novels published by Anagrama and then, although continued to encourage English literary life, stopped publishing books. Last year I announced it would soon publish a text "minor", devoted to remembering a friend who committed suicide when she lived with him in Barcelona, \u200b\u200bfifteen years ago. Now I read that book, Yellow (Plot 2008), discover the modesty of Felix: the book is short, but not lower. Chus Izuel is the friend who committed suicide because of an unrequited love. Chus was a writer and critic with a lot of projection, when showing his bitterness at the love that had left him, Felix, as Bizen (the other friend who lived with them), I thought Chus exaggerating someday wake of that pain and return to normal. But Chus not wake, and Felix had to stay to deal with the ghost of guilt.

Felix did not try to write a biography of Chus. In fact, Felix did not try many things, and that is their salvation and the greatness of this book. The short sentences, laconic tone, speak of the difficult struggle with loss, and how the human being is a mystery. The easy answers are not, and in writing, Felix merely stacking questions. Felix points out, but it's what you do not remember. Felix knows, but it's what do not know. And so, through these silences, writes one of the best eulogies I've read on the death of a friend. On the death of someone. A loss. Several times, while reading the book, I thought Manrique, in Verses for the death of his father .