The reason why I like Javier Marías's literature so much is obvious: he is an intelligent writer of those who, when they leave their books, offer a certain idea of the world.
He is also a translator to be indebted to.
And a poetry reader (recognizable by scarce).
Sometimes, with friends, I say this myself and a debate breaks out that comes in the most unexpected ways that the worst discussion has to be even better.
But
what matters to me about Marías is his writing, what concerns
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