In my profession, we spend years learning and discussing how bad Franco was. And OK, fine. But I’m reading the novel titled Los asquerosos by the author Santiago Lorenzo, and I can’t figure out how what he’s describing is better than Franco.
It’s not this one novel, of course. It’s the reality that pretty much all of contemporary Spanish literature describes. The main character, Manuel, is a hard-working, intelligent young man who’s doomed to go from one precarious, part-time gig to another. He’s superfluous, unnecessary in his own country. Manuel manages to eke out a very modest living but there’s no hope he’ll ever have enough money and time to start a family. Owning his own housing is not remotely realistic.
Manuel ends up in one of those thousands of abandoned villages that litter the peninsula. It’s empty, dead but you can still see what the village looked back when there was life in it. That was back in the Franco era. Which was wildly imperfect but at least it wasn’t this slow-motion death of a nation.
I’ve seen those abandoned villages many times. It’s painful even for somebody who is not from there.
I think we should pipe down with the criticisms of Franco, is what I’m saying. The democratic regime we support created these empty villages and the birth rate of 1.16. And a government that screeches tirelessly about Palestine and the imaginary right-wing menace while millions of dispossessed Manuels lose any hope of ever starting a family.