They say you wanted to be a footballer when you were a kid, but you lacked talent. How do you say a writer lacks talent?

Today, when I go to school, I usually tell you that I was a member of the school Pequeño Begiriain and Patxi Zubizarreta and the truth is that having played football with Aitor Begiristain is an honor, but also a great lesson of humility, because his gifts were incredible... But by addressing the question, no one can be directly told that “you don’t have talent”; one must be aware of this. And it's a drama that you don't have talent and you don't realize it. There are some who do not have thermostats, are not aware of them and do not know how to value their work. Others value the works of others well, but they are not objective enough to value their own; and they recognize it as such. And there are others who have not had the ability to value their own and are not even aware of it. This may be a problem, not so much for publishers or readers... but above all for oneself, who will feel that their work is much less appreciated than it is worth. The editor, if a work has several deficiencies, must help the writer to be aware of them, unless it is clear that the work has such deficiencies. But the writer must be aware.

Does it take talent to be a writer?

But it’s not the only condition. Talent is not yes or no. From a medium talent to an impressive capacity there is a very wide scale, and in addition to talent you need effort, learning, trying, having the right environment... And one can make up for the other to a great extent, but it takes a minimum and initial talent as in football, also for music, painting and writing.

When did you discover reading? What was it for you to discover the reading?

As a child, there were not many books in our house. I started to read a lot and systematically at the age of 14-15. One thing that was curious was that, until then, my popular artistic activity or that I was applauded in the area was drawing. Yeah, I drew a lot, and I had a pretty good hand. I don’t think I would have become an artist, or that’s the suspicion I have now, because I was more of an imitator than a creator... After 14-15 years, books and letters gained more and more weight and importance in me, and at the same time and in parallel, I lost interest in drawings. This cross happened to me between the ages of 14-18, and since the age of 18 I have hardly made any drawings. I remember when I was 15 years old I read “One Hundred Years of Solitude” by García Marquez, and the heroinomanos tell that the first chute is an unrepeatable experience, well, it was something like that. When I was 16 years old, I became addicted to some South American writers. I mentioned García Márquez, but also Cortázar’s “Rayuela”, the tales of Borges... I felt that a new world was opening up to me and I wondered, in my own humble way, if I could take a few steps into that world.

How did the boy, educated and raised in Spanish, become a Basque writer and editor?

It is not only my case; those who are younger than me, and even a few of my seniors, such as Arantxa Iturbe, have studied Basque, but until then, we have been Basque writers literate in Spanish and my process has been that of many others. I received Basque at home, I was able to speak Basque, but I felt the need to turn to the Basque language to express elaborate concepts or feelings. This caused me conflict, the importance that I had to give to one or the other, and in the case of all Basque writers, at one point we opted for the Basque language, the weak one in part, because we realized that the Basque language was the natural thread and medium of communication of our family, and that if it was interrupted, it was interrupted by a political imposition. I think it is an act of justice to make an effort to consider what has been the language of your family as your own language of communication and culture.

Since 1988 you have been the editor of the publishing house Mutually. You have been closely following Basque literature. What would you mention about the evolution of our lyrics? Where did we come from? Where are we going?

In general, I believe that we come from a culture of resistance, of supervivencia, where the Basque language, totally marginalized and excluded, felt agonizing. Everything had to be given to the Basque language, and all the corners had to be filled, the gaps had to be filled and one had to do what one could, which led to voluntarism, militantism and various isms. By the time I got into the editor, that was starting to change, but we clearly came from there. The evolution has been towards professionalism. There are more and more people who live from the culture, less writers than anyone, but there are more and more people who live from the culture in general. In addition to this, we are increasingly demanding ourselves, both creators and receivers, and we are doing things better and better. At the same time, there has also been a specialization, one that could previously have been president of the Ikastolen Elkartea, translator of pamphlets that were written in the locality and speaker or jury of the verso tournaments. People have happily searched their field according to their hobbies and abilities. The sense of populism has been greatly diminished, and each one looks more and more at himself and his situation, his development or his projection. It may seem sad, but to a large extent it was also indispensable.

And on a pure literary level, what has been the evolution?

In general, the history of Basque literature in the 20th century is a history of the desire and need to modernize. On the one hand, we wanted to bring the European movements, the avant-garde to us: to bring them, to incorporate them, to imitate them, to be on top of ourselves and not retarded, because one of our evils has always been to have a retarded culture. From 1950 to 1975, tremendous progress was made, such as the Txillardegi, Aresti, Saizarbitoria, among others. It can be said that up to 80 very fast steps were taken. Since then, I would say that we have discharged our debts, that we have done the things that the European avant-gardes have done, and that now we can write more calmly about what interests us. To give a concrete example, since Basque literature and culture had a certain aroma of ximaur, such a famous farmhouse..., those who wanted to modernize Basque literature in no way included farms in their literature. In this sense, we understand what the novelization of Txillardegi or Saizarbitoria is like. But thanks to them, how we have gained citizenship, in 80 Bernardo Atxaga is able to write again stories set on the farm that he would later compile in his book “Obabakoak”, but of course not in the style of Txomin Agirre, Atxaga is not an idealized farm, but much more crude. And along the line of Atxaga were Pako Aristi, Andu Lertxundi and others. Since the 80’s, writing has been more free, and everyone has sought their own style, their own voice... So I would say that between 50 and 80 the process of modernization took place, and from there the path of diversity was opened: diversity in styles, themes, voices... And another important innovation, especially one that has been very noticeable in the last 10 years, has been the proliferation of female writers. They were before, but somehow it seemed that they were about to fill the quota so that they could say, “We also have women.” Today, below a certain age, not only the age of men, they are more than men and more interesting in general.

Until recently there was talk of “sacred cows”. Now what do we need to talk about?

Depending on the glasses you wear, today’s writers can be distinguished in many ways. From an ideological point of view, one can distinguish them according to the political tendency. According to other glasses, you can distinguish between those who make literature “difficult” or “exigent” or “ambitious”, and those who make literature “more popular” or “easier”. We can take different approaches of this type and make different classifications according to them. I am forced, from my own watchtower, to have a broad vision and to accept them all. I would not prefer a distinction over others and I think we need everything. We need all the ideological approaches within the Basque culture, and we need very demanding and widely read works that cultivate sensitivity, that cultivate intellectuality, of all literary genres, written by women, written by men... I think we need it all right now, and it doesn’t come out much of anything. I believe that as a culture we need everything, among other things, so that one can find the things that one likes.

The world of writers is a world of great egos; how do you editors manage these egos?

With understanding and patience. Among the writers there is everything: for years I have known very talented and medium-talented people and at the same time - and it has nothing to do with talent, as all combinations are possible - I have also met very humble and humble people, even though they are very intelligent and know their value well. Others, however, have a strong need for self-esteem and recognition. Each one has its own character and no one can be dismissed; one can have some more favorites and with some writers you can go for a drink more often, but it is the work of the writer that counts. And the writer gives a lot, the creators in general give a lot: they dedicate their time and effort and a large part of their mind to creation, for which the compensation is poor economically. Some would like social compensation to be less inadequate, and it is fair to feel that way.

Aren’t you afraid to judge badly?

No fear, worry. In this sense, I would say that the editor must be humble on the one hand. Everything we do will always be to improve a text, and what our contribution is will never be revealed, and it must be so. One must work for the benefit of another writer’s text. You must know that you are in the service of this writer. But at the same time, the editor must have faith in himself and security to say “no,” “you have to change this,” even though he knows that what is in front of you is wiser than you, more famous than you or more famous than you in literature. In addition to this, the editor has to judge every day, both when correcting a work and when saying yes or no to a work. I think this should force you to make decisions with caution and common sense, but it does not free you from making decisions. Decisions have to be made and, in addition, when a writer sends a work to an editorial, he wants an answer as soon as possible, and it is not fair and reasonable to keep him waiting for months and months. I feel pretty confident about the decisions I make, but we usually make decisions in a team.

Have you ever stopped with the feeling of having equiaxed yourself with some text?

Well, actually, no. Once I counted all the originals that we received and also the works that we accepted, and it came out that for every work that we accepted, we rejected five. Some of those that we reject are very bad: people who are unruly about language, who don’t know how to narrate, who don’t have heads or butts... And we see others at the limit. It has happened to me that some work rejected by us, but what we saw at the border, was published in another publishing house, and vice versa, that rejected in another publishing house was published in ours. But surely it would not seem ridiculous to him and not to us of Christ. Those that are at the limit, we extract according to the production needs and the number of originals that we have at that time. It could happen in those frontiers, but it never happened to me that something was considered very erratic and then I realized that it was an incredibly good job. Never that ever.

You also know the other editors of the Basque Country. What is your relationship with each other?

It's a good one. We talk about our work when we see each other, we go for a drink... We don't meet on purpose, but when we meet, we have a good relationship. From there, since everyone works in an publishing house, everyone wants their publishing house to bring out the most beautiful books, the most appropriate, the most beautiful... and get good reviews... I would say that we have a healthy and friendly competition. In short, the challenge for all is to achieve a more cultured Basque Country and a greater appreciation of reading. A true reader does not read the books of an editorial, but according to his tastes, of one and the other. A good reader will read everything, and that’s what we have to look for: more and more good readers.

Do you talk about the informal, the ways of working?

Well, no, actually, no. I, as a writer, can know, in part, how they work in other publishers, because I have published with them. Or some writer who publishes in more than one publishing house says “look, in such publishers they do it...”, but we don’t talk about it. Each one will in part have different ways of working according to his habits and character. But it's probably pretty much the same.

You’ll also meet publishers of major literatures. What is different about being an editor of a small literature like ours than being an editor of larger towns?

There is a clear difference that, although it is a consequence of our smallness, is rewarding: today in the Basque Country there is no good work that remains unpublished. If a publisher has a lot of work at a given time and can’t publish it, they’ll probably say yes in the next editorial. In the great literatures next door there are very good writers who can't publish. Everyone wants to go out in important publishers, whose production is limited, and the competition for one of these few positions is much tougher. I find it much more ruthless and hard, and at the same time, publishers work much more with marketing. In Basque literature, which, fortunately and unfortunately, is a consequence of our smallness, we act much more clearly for the quality and the texts that convince us.

You are the editor of the largest Basque publishing house. Is the imbalance in size, production and resources between the Basque literature and the rest of the publishers healthy?

I sincerely believe that it would be better if there were not so many differences, if there were more powerful and powerful cultural platforms in the Basque Country. If the mutual publishing house has become a bit large in size and production, it is because it has worked well and has managed its resources neatly: with rigour in expenses and prudence or good judgment in decision-making. It has been well invented in management and, in general, it is a team that has worked well. I would prefer others to be on our side too, but the way to achieve parity cannot be for us to do things wrong on purpose. With respect for the reader and the creators who come to us, we must give them the most appropriate treatment possible, both in production, editorial work, marketing, distribution... We have to do things as well as we can, and the way to strike a balance cannot be for us to do things wrong on purpose.

And what are the other publishers doing wrong?

No, I'm not saying that anyone does anything wrong. Perhaps one of the secrets was the intuition of Joseba Jaca and José Mari Sors at the time. They thought that the way to achieve synergies could be to link distribution, stores and production in the same group. It was a formula that worked. It is not easy to know where the parties come from. In terms of production, we all work in the same way. But organizing a distribution group well is a very complicated thing and, I have nothing to do with it, but those who have been working on it have invented it.

A book is not just a text. There's also a name, there's a photo, there's a subject, there's marketing... What weight does each one have?

It is not easy to measure the weight of each factor on a scale and it also varies from book to book and from reader to reader. Historically, the name of the author has always been important. Some say that this has now changed and that the name is more focused than the work, but I don’t think it is true; I think that before a text of Txillardegi was important, among other things, because it belonged to Txillardegi, or Joxe Azurmendi or Saizarbitoria or Ibon Sarasola. And even now, among other things, it matters because it belongs to Cano, or Eider Rodríguez or Kirmen Uribe. The name is a factor that urinates a lot, but also before. Now it is true that the public aspect of the writer, the writer, has taken a different place than before. Now the writer can be someone who is brought to the inauguration of a museum. The writer has come to fulfill a certain symbolic or totemic function, but in general I would say that we still have serious literature. This question that you have asked me is a concern throughout the West, it is often said that we live in the spectacle society but, on the covers of books of neighboring cultures, when the author is important, they put the name of the writer with more letters than the title of the book. But in Basque literature, and all publishers act in the same way, we are all serious in this sense, we put the title big and the name of the writer small, and it doesn’t matter whether the writer is a beginner or an important one. I think that when we still take a book, we mainly look at the quality of the text, and I would like it to remain that way.

Within the polysystem of literature we have publishers, media, readers, teachers, critics... According to what do you think the literary canon of the moment is fixed?

It’s not easy, and all these factors or agents have something to do with it. What is clear to me is that in the literary process two elements are indispensable and important: the creator and the recipient, and the text that is in the middle of both. These are the essentials. I will not say that everyone else - critics, media, publishers... - is a parasite, but we are not indispensable elements. Creator and recipient yes. With the canon a matter of power and hierarchy is realized, and when one launches a canon he simply does not launch his own canon, he wants it to be also that of others, that is, that others also accept one’s own criteria. And this can include ideological, linguistic, gender, sympathetic criteria, etc. I would prefer this process to be as broad and democratic as possible, and for this we need more and more qualified readers. More and more readers are reading things on their own, with tastes and criteria, making choices.

It is often said that the Basque literary world is divided into cuadrillas. What are these squads? To what does this “quadrillism” respond?

Reading the memoirs of the writers here and there, I have noticed that everywhere it happens in the same way. It is not a characteristic of the Basques that responds to our petrality, our mediocrity or our closeness. No, I don't. It seems that it is characteristic of creators in general, or writers in general, or humanity or people in general, to make groups and to misspeak at the expense of one another. When one launches his canon one thinks that this is the truth, that things are so, and it is not a curse to want others to see things as well.

There is no lack of controversy in Basque literature: That the Basque Country is a prize, that it is the Spanish National Prize, that Basque literature seems to be corrupt, that there is no serious criticism... How do you deal with these issues?

On the one hand, it is normal, and what happens in any country happens more or less here. On the other hand, there are some particular characteristics that correspond to a smaller population. We are an oppressed nation, we belong to a people who do not own themselves, and this creates contradictions. As long as we as a people do not own ourselves, we will inevitably continue to suffer some of these misdeeds. I believe that it is up to me, wherever I am, to act broadly, with respect for everyone and understanding all attitudes. As a writer, I have taken certain positions, sometimes in favor and sometimes against, but as an editor I respect all writers and value their work equally.

How would you describe your writing career? What has been your development as a writer?

Some friends who appreciate me tell me that I am a good writer but that I should dedicate more time and ambition to literature. In practice I have written with continuity and also with fruitfulness, I have many titles in the market, but I have almost never done a long novel, “You have uploaded me again” may be the only exception. Because of my work I have little time left to write, and the projects I propose to myself are usually narratives, short stories or a bit of long stories. Sometimes I think that's the reason, that is, because of a lack of time in three weeks-or I'm setting up projects that can be finished. Sometimes I think that’s not what I want to write. I usually want to write stories that can be written for a few weeks, because I know that from this moment until the end of the fair in Durango I will not have time to write anything. And as for the themes, over the years I have realized that there are some themes that are recurrent and that appear again and again in my work: the struggles of the heart and the conflicts of the people. Social problems on the one hand and sentimental problems on the other.

Literature can be used to reveal or hide oneself. What have you done more? Show up or hide?

I think, in my case, I show up, but I hide. Both at the same time. That it is not a transparent window, in any case, my literature, but a mirror with many deformations. We are always expelling our concerns, our pains, our pains, but always disguising ourselves, through other characters.

How does the editor judge himself?

I always try to get my jobs judged by someone else. First I try to be honest with myself, but you can’t be sure if you are strict with yourself. I pass on the things I write to five or six people, friends who are writers, and I ask them to give their opinion and judgment. I try to judge myself well, but I don't want to be the only judge of myself.

Directly or indirectly, you have become a literary character in the play “Editor” by Aitor Arana, and in the novels “Nuestras Estos S.A” by Ur Apalategi and “Hor Hago Kevin?” by Kevin Heredia. How do you live that?

With a silent smile.

Why do you think you've been fictionalized?

I don't think I have the special qualities to become a character as a person. There'll be more because I'm where I belong. For my work I give many denials and I would have won the hostility of some and, on the other hand, since I am in a place with a certain prominence, I can be in the spotlight. I can be seen with sympathy in some books, not so much in others. But that's the way it is.

Have you never been drowned by the world of Basque literature? The fact that everyone knows each other, that everyone gives opinions about everyone, the need to position themselves, the confusion of friend-competency-work relationships, the fact that they are in a position...

The truth is that it can be overwhelming, and it is, but at the same time, I also have a bit of calm and I try to take everything in good shape. In general, valuing the lights and shadows, I have a job that I like. Just as there are these little miseries, my work has also given me the opportunity to meet wonderful people, and to make friends with some of them, and also to have beauty in my hands many times. Sometimes wonderful texts come to us, and it is a pleasure to use them in your hands, to have the privilege of reading them before anyone else, and to have the opportunity to help improve them. I prefer to look at the good aspects of work rather than the bad ones.

How Does Autumn Come?

In adult literature we have a novel by Joan Mari Irigoién that will be the closing of his trilogy; a book of stories by Xabier Montoia; a new book of poems by Asier Serrano, an essay by Pablo Sastre, another by Alberto Barandiarán about Pamplona-Veleia, and a book by Miren Meabe that is difficult to classify if it is for adults or not, composed of poems and poems. These for sure, and maybe some other on the way. In addition to these translations, and a lot of children's and young people's literature. I'd say the interesting one is coming.