Hoy ha vuelto Baudelaire

The man who speaks to us in this book tries to put his memories in order. However, far from his being an act of complacency, he tries to break down the inertia of his ideas, his judgments and his customs. Literature serves as a mirror in which to look at himself, and the reflection that it returns to him is sometimes encouraging, and other times, distorting, but always a fertile engine of thought and transformation. Thus, the protagonist wanders through some moments of his existence as if he were an omniscient narrator -albeit, subtly and elegantly distanced- and, entering those "gaps that open in time through which from time to time we sneak", returns to the playground of childhood, dreams or talks with his deceased mother one night of restless sleep or recalls some detail of an old love. Although now everything is slower and less pressing; Although now he usually has the whole day ahead of him and sometimes feels the weight of futility, he does not stop celebrating the value and company that books have always given him in the impossible art of understanding life.