was morning. One cold morning, but less than what can be expected in January in Madrid. I take the Metro near Atocha and when I came down, got rid walk the few blocks that separated me from the Glorieta de Bilbao. I later learned that the commercial coffee is one of the few bars where you can still talk. The Business is a place where dark marble tables and chairs heavy air frame of the old manor house conversation practice. No television sets, tables are far from each other enough for a big eater and can stretch corduroy armchairs resolves heavy warm, green, inviting to sit still. A perfect waiter brought me what I asked while waiting for a latte and a churro.
Antonio Muñoz Molina passed the door and greeted me as if we had known forever, he left his coat in the back of the chair and began to speak. The original idea of \u200b\u200brecording our conversation was out of time, almost like a useless feature of formalism. It does not matter much now, I seem to remember another friend, the photographer Paul Linietsky approached me Kapuscinsky the idea, one that makes clear that irreplaceable chronicle of an encounter are the impressions that it draws on the memory.
talked to Antonio for many things, some important and others less so. We found a common obsession with issues ranging twinning reflections so magical and incomprehensible. We talked a lot about how easy it is made to certain professionals become perfect leftist conservatives object to any sign of critical thinking. Much more when that thought rests on what we think is the most peculiar feature of leftist thought today. If a dispute them immediately its attachment to the past appears anathematizing and closing of our participation in the progressive church. Perhaps because they have nothing to say about future, the English leftists, such as Argentina, take refuge in a whimsical tale of the past and if anyone says otherwise, the excommunicated. We laughed a little daughter that simplification over the awkwardness and ignorance of the political debate. But take it seriously, both we see a danger in the political use of memory and antojadadas descriptions that draw from political power.
When we talk about books and ideas of the first words that appeared was pragmatism, Antonio was referring to its use is not philosophical, but I used to talk about philosophy. After all, it seemed Antonio wonderful to be talking to a pragmatist. One of his last mails ended with an "a pragmatist to another." Shit, I thought. And there's more, we talked about my essay on Octavio Paz, he did not know at all. He told me after the departure of our meeting which was purchased in bookstores Madrid got the huge Mexican. From there on every occasion on which I remarked that we communicate with Peace had discovered a new universe, almost like that opens when you discover the Borges.
Antonio Muñoz Molina, who is for me the most amazing writer in our language, is a curious character. Read with interest some practical helpers in our powers no longer believe they need and think they have things to learn at every turn and many people, even those who barely know.
Saturday Morning 17 hours presented in the Book Fair in Buenos Aires his latest novel, "The night of time" which released Planet. This pragmatist friend will be there, fine weaving warp and vigorous community of people open to the beauty of the word in English.
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