{"id":10148,"date":"2011-05-31T20:00:57","date_gmt":"2011-05-31T19:00:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.cervantes.es\/dublin\/?p=10148"},"modified":"2014-02-25T19:12:02","modified_gmt":"2014-02-25T18:12:02","slug":"interview-with-diego-valverde-villena","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.cervantes.es\/dublin\/interview-with-diego-valverde-villena\/","title":{"rendered":"Interview with Diego Valverde Villena"},"content":{"rendered":"

Diego Valverde Villena:\u00a0Curiosity keeps you always alive, and somehow, ageless<\/h2>\n

\"Diego<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Interview with Diego Valverde Villena held on 31st May 2011 at the D\u00e1maso Alonso Library of the\u00a0Instituto Cervantes in Dublin<\/a>\u00a0on the occasion of his participation in the round table discussion\u00a0\u201cMore than poetry\u201d<\/a>, with Anamar\u00eda Crowe Serrano.<\/h4>\n

Diego Valverde Villena (San Isidro, Lima, Peru, 1967) has a degree in Hispanic, English and German Studies from the University of Valladolid. From 2002 to 2004 he worked at the Ministry of Culture for the Spanish Government. He was also director of the Valladolid Book Fair from 2006 to 2009. Since 2010, he is visiting professor at the Universidad Mayor de San Andr\u00e9s in La Paz. His poetry includes the collections\u00a0El dif\u00edcil ejercicio del olvido<\/i>\u00a0(1997),\u00a0No olvides mi rostro<\/i>\u00a0(2001),\u00a0Infierno del enamorado<\/i>\u00a0(2002), and\u00a0El espejo que lleva mi nombre escrito<\/i>\u00a0(2006). In 2007\u00a0Iconos<\/i>\u00a0appeared, a work for soprano and piano, with music by Juan Manuel Ruiz, published in 2008. His latest collection,\u00a0Un segundo de vacilaci\u00f3n,<\/i>\u00a0was published in 2011.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Who is Diego Valverde Villena?<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b>\u00a0<\/span>\u2014Well, since you ask that way, I\u2019ll give you a deep, sincere answer. I’m Fermin\u2019s and Chati\u2019s son. That\u2019s how I used to call my parents when I was 2, in Lima. Chati was an affectionate way of calling my mother, while my father\u2019s name was Ferm\u00edn. I didn\u2019t call them mum and dad, I called them Ferm\u00edn and Chati, as everybody else did, my parents\u2019 friends.<\/p>\n

Deep down, honestly, that\u2019s who I am. Precisely Ferm\u00edn\u2019s and Chati\u2019s son and everything I am, I have been and may be in the future comes from them, from everything I received from them. That\u2019s who I was in the beginning. The rest is just an expansion of what my parents gave me.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Why don\u2019t you explain a little bit the idea of \u201cOrfeo criollo\u201d, which you mentioned in an interview, a biography.<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b>\u00a0<\/span>\u2014Yes, and I know you have this text here in your magnificent collection. By the way, thank you very much for the documentation work you carry out here and at the Instituto Cervantes in general.<\/p>\n

Well I gave it the title \u201cI am a Creole Orpheus\u201d because I really like the figure of Orpheus. It’s an interesting allegory for the artist, not only the poet but also the person who is always looking for something that is a step out of reach and about to vanish. And apart from art and the work of art, he\u2019s also looking for the person he loves, the woman he loves. The legend usually ends sadly, but fortunately there are some versions, particularly an opera, with a happy ending. I\u2019m hoping that my particular version of Orpheus will have a happy ending. And I\u2019m Creole because that\u2019s where I come from. I\u2019m the son of a Spaniard and an American (my mum is Bolivian, from Potosi), and I was born in America, in Lima. I have always felt I am a Spaniard from America which is a beautiful way of being Spanish and being American. I have these two sides.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Is losing one\u2019s curiosity a form of dying?<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b>\u00a0<\/span>\u2014I wouldn\u2019t say it in such a dramatic way, but definitely curiosity is essential for me. Curiosity as a vice is something rather ugly but as a virtue it’s wonderful. It’s something that keeps you alive.<\/p>\n

Curiosity makes you somehow ageless. It gives you the urge to look for new things and enjoy life. I think it\u2019s very important to enjoy life. There are so many things out there to enjoy that we don\u2019t see and they’re right in front of us. For example in this library, wherever you look you find wonderful works, and just a line can change your life, can open your eyes to so much. I think curiosity is important.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014A passion.<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b>\u00a0<\/span>\u2014That\u2019s like asking me about my favourite poem, or poet, or song, or music… I have many passions, plenty of personal passions and things that fascinate me. I don\u2019t even know if literature is my main passion. It\u2019s what I do for a living. I\u2019ve always enjoyed other areas in which I wasn\u2019t involved myself, maybe that\u2019s why I find them even more magical, like music, or films. Just to mention an example, I\u2019ve never cried with a text, well, except for letters, but never with a literary text. However, I\u2019ve cried with movies and music. Sometimes when I listen to music I have to stop doing what I am doing.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Is there any place where you regularly go?<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b><\/span>\u00a0\u2014A physical place you mean? Well, not really… But I definitely like big cities. I was born in Lima, which at that time had a population of 3 million people. Now it’s about 10 million. I live in Madrid, with 4 million, almost 5, which is very nice too. In general, I feel quite happy in big cities: Berlin, Paris, or Rome. It doesn\u2019t really matter. Basically it\u2019s like the old Spanish romance says: \u201cAll\u00e1 se me ponga el sol do tengo el amor\u201d [The sun can set wherever my love is].<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Is forgetting difficult for you?<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b><\/span>\u00a0\u2014\u201cForgetting\u201d. I see you\u2019re referring to one of my titles. Forgetting is impossible for me. I realise that the titles of 2 of my books contain this word, maybe because it\u2019s something I don\u2019t have. Fortunately I have a good memory and memory is one\u2019s personal background. If you lose your memory you become nobody. In my case, though, as Borges says in his poem \u201cEverness\u201d: \u201cOnly one thing does not exist: oblivion\u201d. For me, in general, memories are a constant reminder of who you are.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014A dream.<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b><\/span>\u00a0\u2014To do what I\u2019m supposed to do, to be worthy of what I have inherited from my ancestors, of what I\u2019ve received so as to somehow make good use of it. To try and be worthy of that.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Diego, while you are here, it would be a shame not to ask you to read some of your poems. You\u2019re going to read two poems. How did you come up with them?<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b>\u00a0<\/span>\u2014Yes, I\u2019m going to read two poems that go hand in hand, they came to me at the same time. I have a special fondness for these poems because they made me feel fully satisfied with my work as a writer for the first time.<\/p>\n

I was studying in Chicago when I wrote these two poems where my main themes converge. Recurrent themes are: travel, books, art, women, love and destiny. All these themes are here and come up again throughout my work.<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014Let\u2019s start with \u201cMetro de Chicago\u201d [Chicago Underground].<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

METRO DE CHICAGO<\/h5>\n

A lo largo del viaje<\/p>\n

la mujer de tu vida se te escapa repetidas veces,<\/p>\n

siempre en el lado opuesto de la v\u00eda,<\/p>\n

en el otro and\u00e9n,<\/p>\n

en la otra cola,<\/p>\n

saliendo del museo o del restaurante cuando t\u00fa entras:<\/p>\n

un segundo de vacilaci\u00f3n es suficiente.<\/p>\n

[CHICAGO UNDERGROUND<\/h5>\n

Along the route<\/p>\n

the woman of your life keeps slipping away,<\/p>\n

always on the other side of the track,<\/p>\n

on the other platform,<\/p>\n

in the other queue,<\/p>\n

leaving the museum or restaurant as you go in:<\/p>\n

all it takes is a moment\u2019s hesitation.]<\/p>\n

Carmen Sanjuli\u00e1n: \u2014And to finish this interview let\u2019s read \u201cLike a book\u201d<\/b><\/p>\n

Diego Valverde Villena:<\/b><\/span>\u00a0\u2014Here, as in all libraries, there are signs asking people not to return books to the shelves but to leave them on the tables, as that\u2019s the librarians\u2019 job. Librarians are the life and soul of the Instituto Cervantes, together with the teachers. At that time I was in Chicago in a library which had seven million books. You can imagine, when a book is not put back properly it\u2019s lost forever. Based on this idea of the poor lost book and how it would be found and recovered, I wrote this poem.<\/p>\n

COMO UN LIBRO<\/h5>\n

Perdido,<\/p>\n

abandonado entre filas extra\u00f1as,<\/p>\n

reh\u00e9n de cong\u00e9neres fortuitos que entienden otro idioma,<\/p>\n

v\u00edctima del azar de un bibliotecario burl\u00f3n<\/p>\n

o una mano inexperta,<\/p>\n

solo y soslayado,<\/p>\n

hasta que alguien me encuentre.<\/p>\n

[LIKE A BOOK<\/h5>\n

Lost,<\/p>\n

abandoned among strange rows,<\/p>\n

hostage to random companions who speak a different language,<\/p>\n

victim of the whim of a teasing librarian<\/p>\n

or an inexpert hand,<\/p>\n

alone and left aside,<\/p>\n

until someone finds me.]<\/p>\n

(Translated by Anamar\u00eda Crowe Serrano)<\/p>\n

Recommended links<\/h4>\n