PLEASE note that I have not read Juan Soto Ivars’ book, just as I have not read Juan del Val’s, and perhaps for this reason I should not comment on any of its contents. I haven’t seen the San Francisco map either, so … I cannot recommend the wait and the noise in this joyous time of business meals and express visits to the city center to enjoy its beauty, with its lights and decorations, its long route of nativity scenes and zambombas, with any activity that takes us out into the street to spend money and salary. I admit that I don’t feel Fomo, the fear of missing out on what others are already telling me in their Instagram stories. Nor do I need to talk about a current issue which is put on the table, the most controversial, the most essential in a forum where, as in Parcheesi, one person who knows gives his opinion and twenty come to eat it. Hoaxing has overtaken critics as a national sport. And lies are rife on social networks, but also in public spaces. There is no worse liar than the one who is convinced of the truth of his lies. On this crazy board, there is no longer room for so many checkmates. I prefer to continue to be a bifrontal executive rather than engage in confrontation.
But since I am privileged to have this space, I want to reflect on the controversy surrounding the presentation of Soto Ivars’ essay “It Does Not Exist.” False complaints about gender violence. I do this on the day when a new sexist crime will probably be confirmed in the province of Seville, the third in just over three months. Jennifer, a young 30-year-old Colombian mother of three children, who came to Spain in search of a better life, saw hers interrupted because, only because, of a man. No one denies that these horrible cases happen, least of all the writer, no matter how categorical the title of his controversial book may seem. So much so that he arrived in Seville and they whistled him with more energy than substance, giving even more publicity to his work and pushing the positions further apart. This rope game is about to explode.
As I have not read it, I am perhaps venturing into marshy territory, but I doubt that the author, so media-oriented, has written the slightest word which reflects the slightest reproach against the cause, not feminist, but humanist. Yes, I witnessed the boycott attempt, the request to cancel the event, alleging that it took place in a public space (what is RTVE?). And faced with these crude attempts to restrict freedoms and use culture as a pretext, I rebel and say: “Juan, I believe you. »
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