“The world today is horrible, but I prefer it to remain more or less like that”

In “Montevideo”, his most recent novel, Enrique Vila-Matas (Barcelona, ​​1948) returns to his best form: the one in which a narrator –who is and is not him– begins to reflect on literature and at the same time lives; that is to say, a strange state in which truths and lies blend naturally. For this reason, the character who stars in the book begins to perceive signs or peculiar coincidences in various cities –from Paris to Montevideo, from Reykjavík to Bogotá– that lead him to suspect that in a certain way he lives locked up in a novel.

Vila-Matas agreed to answer some questions to Trade by email, which not only deal with literary creation, but also with current sociocultural discussions. A demonstration of how the author of “Bartleby and company” and “Paris never ends” has found a way to use fiction as a flashlight to illuminate reality.

—Can’t that idea of ​​“forging a style” in literature be harmful in the sense that a writer can end up “resembling himself too much”? In any case, what is his position on the matter?

When I was very young I heard it said all the time that without a voice of their own the writer was nothing. I already had plenty of it, but I was amused to rebel against that idea, if only because it was an idea that seemed too close to “an indisputable truth” and I wrote a book called “A House Forever.” In the book I told the drama of a ventriloquist who had his own voice, that virtue so sought after and appreciated by writers and which, for obvious reasons, was a real setback for the ventriloquist. A second version of that book is “Mac and His Mishap,” which I published five years ago. In that book I retraced the steps of the ventriloquist and the problem with his own voice. All of this led to my novel “Montevideo”, which tells the story of a search for style by a writer who knows almost everything about the author of the book. And it’s that deep down I’m still looking for style. Kafka and Valéry, so different from each other, at a certain moment wrote (unknowingly) exactly the same sentence: “All my work is the search for my work”.

—I was very amused by the tendencies that the character lists. Where would you place the use –so fashionable today– of artificial intelligence? Are you concerned about the issue?

What if I worry? Yes, a lot, especially since two months ago I was asked to be interviewed in public by an artificial intelligence. I loved the idea, but they soon told me that it was not going to be possible because the ‘bot’ (short for robot) was a slow learner and lacked humor, and was only likeable when he said nonsense. And to think that I had rubbed my hands planning the moment when I would ask him if he didn’t think it was difficult for novels to represent reality, but the reflection that they themselves opened on that factory defect (the awareness of their incompleteness) made them in a very attractive activity… I imagined the face of the ‘bot’ and I burst out laughing.

“I like the world to be ambiguous. I like to hear phrases that say one thing and the opposite at the same time. Johan Cruyff was a master at this.”

Enrique Vila-Matas, Spanish writer.

—The cliché of “I would rather not do it” [del libro “Bartleby, el escribiente” de Herman Melville] chase only his character? Or has it haunted you too?

The narrator of “Montevideo” hates the book. I can only thank the book for what it has done for me. But it is true that “I would prefer not to” has become a cliché and is even an inscription on vulgar and common shirts, which for me has already been alarming. Of course, Melville must be more alarmed at his grave. In “Montevideo”, the narrator proposes a phrase that takes the place of “I would prefer”. Juan Carlos Onetti said it when some friends insisted on filming a brief interview with him in the days in Madrid in which he did not move from his bed and ate sips of whiskey. He resisted, but finally agreed to be filmed with that phrase: “Out of sympathy, I resign myself.”

—If it is true, as stated in the book, that ambiguity is the trait that best defines the world today, is there any area in which you would prefer greater clarity and definition? In politics, literature, feelings?

I do not pretend, I have never tried, to change the world. Today’s world is horrible, but I prefer it to remain more or less like that, lest it change and become worse. On the other hand, I like that it is ambiguous. I like to hear phrases that say one thing and the opposite at the same time. Johan Cruyff was a master at this.

—The novel covers various cities and at some point also speaks of a “secret saudade”: Is there any city in the world that generates a type of say goodbye special, different?

I would have liked to live in five cities at the same time, and in all surrounded by saudade: Barcelona, ​​Paris, New York, Lisbon, Seville.

—And since it’s a very cinephile novel: Godard or Truffaut?

For years, I attended a gathering on Sunday mornings on a terrace in the sun, in Barcelona. In that gathering it was forbidden to name Godard. However, Godard always interested me, especially because of his opinions. Because of that “Au contraire” that he used to say whenever someone expressed an opinion. One day, shortly after someone stated something with which I did not agree, I said “On the contrary” in the gathering, and I remember everyone’s painful reaction, they looked at me as if Godard had spoken to them. At night, I dreamed that I was banished from the social gathering, symbolically, for three months.