"In literary terms, I believe my biggest turning point was losing the fear of writing what I wanted and how I wanted, and daring to write my novel Justo".
Carlos Bassas del Rey raises his gin and tonic glass ---"no salad, please, and not steaming because of dry ice either"--- and sips a little before continuing: "I wasn't entirely confident, almost not at all, but the response I received from my first readers was very good, I trusted them and moved forward. And I was right: thanks to that novel I won the Hammett. So I decided to continue down that path and dare to write Soledad".
Now comes his new installment, Sinántropos (AlRevés), which the writer anticipates is along the same lines. "I feel comfortable there, it's me," he assures, after arriving at the Bar del Post late in the afternoon, settled in the contradiction of being, by nature, a night owl, "although the best phrases occur to me during the day."
He defines himself as "a hack writer who tasted journalism and ran away." Now he writes fiction, "novels, and films from time to time" and confirms that, despite it costing him to stick his head out, it hasn't gone badly for him so far. "Of course, I am aware that this world is tough: today you can be in the middle of the table, even at the top, and tomorrow disappear. And not even be remembered."
A future winner
Born in Barcelona in '74 "and Basque-Navarrese by adoption," the regular is a Doctor in Information Sciences from the University of Navarra, a professor at the Public University of Navarra, at the CTL School of Image and Sound in Pamplona, and in FORCEM courses. In 2007 he was awarded the Plácido prize for Best Feature Film Screenplay at the IX Manresa International Black Film Festival, and his screenplay Malinche was subsidized by the ICAA.
--- Indeed, so far it hasn't gone badly for you at all.
But, above all else, he highlights having won the Hammett for crime novel, which he describes, without palliative, as a "rush", before remembering himself moderating a panel at a BCNEGRA edition with Carlos Zanón, Alexis Ravelo, and Marcelo Luján talking about Vázquez-Montalbán. "I looked at them and said to myself: 'They are three Hammetts, three incredible writers, each one different, unique, incomparable.' That same night, having a drink at Boadas, I took a photo of them that I still keep and someone told me: 'now you stand with them, so there are three Hammetts and a future winner.' He was right," he explains with a special sparkle in his fierce blue eyes.
At this moment, he announces he is finishing correcting the script for a feature film for a production company "and thinking about what new story to start working on. I have three in mind. I will have to decide on one of them soon."
The most beautiful city in the world
"I had the incredible luck that my father, a true Barcelonian from the Sants neighborhood, told me a thousand stories about Barcelona, its streets, and its people. He made me an addict," explains the writer, who cannot resist sharing one of those numerous paternal anecdotes at the bar: "He used to tell me: 'Do you know why Tibidabo is called that?' And I would answer: 'No idea.' 'Tibi dabo means I will give you, and that's what the devil said to Jesus in the desert to tempt him. All this I will give you if you prostrate yourself and worship me. And the this could not be anything other than Barcelona, the most beautiful city in the world. What are you going to tempt God with if not with the best and most beautiful so that he truly thinks about it?'"
Curiously, it took him a while to dare to write novels set in Barcelona. "The first was Justo. Then came Cielos de Plomo. Two different eras, but the same city." In both works, several of those legends and urban stories of a city through whose winding streets he loves to walk are reflected, "imagining it still walled, how it must have been, what has changed and what has not." And always with that peculiar notion that "we have almost always chosen the wrong side and lost almost all battles. Which gives us character."
--- What has a lot of character is our inimitable gastronomic offer which, now that you're finishing your gin and tonic, can lead you to a good dinner.
Carlos Bassas del Rey fixes his tsunami blue pupil on the displayed delicacies and hesitates, given the breadth of his culinary appetites:
--- It depends on the moment. A good menu with rice, perhaps. If it's a combo plate, I'm for the mythical 'grilled cuttlefish with…' Or also the classic Milanese or veal escalope with Russian salad and French fries. As for portions, as a good adopted Navarrese-Basque, I'm for pintxos.