About nationality issues and literature as a cure
Every writer has its own personal obsession: mine is the subject stated on the title of this article. Nationality: what the hell is that, how does it enter our lives, and how can it define us? Let me start by saying that I am Venezuelan until the fifth generation downwards, from both sides of my family tree. You could say I’m almost a pure blooded-Venezuelan. Nevertheless, my peers have accused me all my life of having a weird accent, and of being different . –which is quite a tricky adjective, I have discovered.- Socially, I’ve always felt like Nick Caraway in the Great Gatsby; making his own words mine, in the Venezuelan society, I feel like I am within and without at the same time. I’m this curious observer that wanders around the borders of the outcasts, being neither an outcast nor an insider. Since my adolescence I’ve dedicated myself to read as much Latin-American literature as I can bear: Mario Vargas Llosa, Cortázar, Ernesto Sábato, Benedetti, García Márquez , Isabel