Tuesday, July 5

The new Prgamo bookseller, a Mexican writer who was a novillero: “I did my doctorate at the Complutense recommended by El Pimpi y Montoli”


Jorge F. Hernández was the cultural attaché of Mexico in Spain. AMLO expelled him for responding in an article to an official who considers the pleasure of reading a capitalist. “Stalin already died, gey”

Jorge F. Hernndez, in the Prgamo bookstore.ANTONIO HEREDIA

Jorge F. Hernández, the Mexican writer and columnist, smokes inside the Prgamo bookstore. A Guatemalan operator works on the reform of the premises. The wooden shelves will remain. The books have disappeared. There is a brand new printer. Jorge holds the cigarette between two fingers of his right hand and smoking is again the habit that best combines with paper and ink and the smoke conquers the light from the window.

-I’m going to translate the biography of sidney franklinthe Jewish and gay gringo who was a bullfighter -advances-.

How did Mexico’s cultural attaché in Spain end up as a bookseller in General Ora?

“I was appointed in 2019. An AMLO government official dedicated to promoting reading among indigenous communities said that reading for pleasure was a vice of capitalist consumption,” he explains surprised, as if he had heard those words for the first time. “What happened, gey? Stalin is already dead.”

I answered in an article. “You read shitting, in the bathtub, on the train. Of course you do it for pleasure. It has nothing to do with capitalist consumption. Within 24 hours they cut off my head. They justified the decision by alleged sexist comments about the Mexican ambassador that he would have made at a dinner at the house of one of my best friends. They betrayed me. Is a lie. That sure was a goring. Neither Islander in Linares.

“I owe money to Moz Molina”

The Government of Mexico has not returned the money that he advanced. “Since there was no budget, I put part of my salary to organize events. Supposedly they would return it to me.” Ruined, he has lived for nine months on the charity of other writers, on the money that his children have left him, on the small change from books and columns. “I owe, among many others, Moz Molina.”

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A few weeks ago I received a call from a compatriot. “I met in one of the cafeterias in Puerta de Alcal. I had just left him with the one in Lavapis. He was devastated. He asked me if he wanted to be a bookseller. I will be your hireling in Pergamum. With that money I can put my debts in order. I told him I didn’t know what the job was like. Booksellers have helped me a lot, but being a bookseller is different.” His new boss, JJJ, prefers to remain anonymous. “He is fond of bullfighting”George concedes.

Rush a can of Coke Zero. She has a little joke that has made her famous after dinner. She announces it as the lost slogan of the mythical soft drink. “I will become a millionaire.” The photographer does not know him and Jorge, who was a bullfighter from the United States, savors the little joke as if he were reciting it on camera. “I lived with my parents in Washington. My maternal grandfather was Pedro López Hinojosa, who took the alternative in Tetun and fought in the old plaza on the Aragón highway.and a brother of my mother was a court judge in Mexico and had been a novillero”.

He participated in Halloween disguised as a bullfighter. “My companions thought that the montera was the hat of Micky Mouse come to less”.

Playing the bull gave him a base that he took advantage of with a “600-kilo vacota.” David Silveti tempted. The legendary matador asked him in English if he wanted to fight. “‘Would you like to try?’ As if it were a cup of tea.” Jorge had the intuition that this bullfighter made everything easy. “He was like Joselito el Gallo. It could crave anyone to get off. I replied: ‘Isn’t it dangerous?’. It turned out to be good and I nailed it, really. I stayed to live on the farm. From there I came out dressed in lights to make my debut. Tore 17 bullfights. I quickly became a young asshole. I had no continuity.”

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“My uncle denied me a tail”

Jorge talks about stories of bullfighters whose sphincters loosen in the quadrille yard, about his alcoholic past, about the vice of reading that he combined with training in Mexico City or in the nurseries in Coyoacn. “I never debuted in Mexico. Dr. Gaona had an optician and we went there to ask his permission. The only time I was about to cut off a tail, my uncle didn’t give it to me. It was his particular way of helping me get rid of the nonsense.” The truth is that not even his swordsman trusted him. “It bothered me that he signed up for the university. He missed my training sessions. He was going to be a figure in bullfighting and he was going to be my swordsman. ‘I’m going to give you a house, gey,’ I told him. Not that year, of course, but yes. later,” he shakes his head.

In the end, he ended up enrolling in Economics and History and arrived in Madrid with the intention of getting a doctorate at the Complutense University. “At 25 I arrived at the Café Gijn and spoke to Ángel Majano, who was a banderillero for scar Higares and Juli. He was identical to Carlos Arruza. I always suspected there was a little overhang there. I told him on the phone that I was coming to get my doctorate. She congratulated me. How wonderful, he said. When he arrived at Gijn he saw that he no longer took care of me and the papers from the university and then the story did fit him “.

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I needed five letters of recommendation to get a Ph.D. “He went to the bar phone. Made a few calls and sorted it out. On Monday I had five recommendations, including his, from, among others, The Pimpi and Manolo Montoli. Without knowing me, write “Imitate the Andalusian accent,” I recommend the kid because he is not intimidated by n. put the paw palante. You put it where you have to put it”. At the time, the rector called him to the office. “The letters had passed from hand to hand and reached him. He wanted to meet Montoli, whom he invited to give a summer course. It was the idol of him.”

Jorge is obsessed with winning the Alfaguara prize. “I have written five novels of which I have published three. The Empress of Lavapis stay finalist Cochabamba, the last one, did not win due to the controversy of machismo. I mainly dedicate myself to writing stories. I have two bullfighting essays, bullfighting requiem Y the stains of art“. It coincided with El Pana on television years after fighting together. It was the resurrection of the sorcerer from Apizaco. “He told me: ‘Now you weigh what the bulls you killed weighed.’ I replied: ‘At least I learned to read and write.'”.

On December 12, 1982 I performed for the last time. A rich man had paid 11,000 euros for his son to kill a steer. The press was summoned. “The boy ran away. I came home at dawn, drunk and bloodied. He was only able to say: ‘I killed that asshole’. My wife, who didn’t understand anything, was scared.”

-But to whom, Jorge? she repeats.

-That asshole.

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