If a global catastrophe happened today we could not survive a long period without sunlight, neither a generalized glaciation or unexpected star emissions… The fact that a simple animal species like ours can overcome the adversity that can be exposed by an entire planet or a whole solar system or a whole galaxy would require a precise conjunction of efforts. And humanity, in all its meanings, is unequivocally compartmentalized by useless boundaries erected with a blind utilitarianism. One planet, One State; a heart, millions of simultaneous beats, as told in The black sun, or we will end up becoming more of a cosmic insignificance.
If I have seen further, it is because I am sitting on the shoulders of giants’ shoulders, wrote Isaac Newton to Robert Hooke. The phrase is not original to Newton, and may in fact be a hidden invective dedicated to his interlocutor. As early as 1159 John of Salisbury wrote in his work Metalogicon: Bernard of Chartres said that we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants. We can see more, and farther than they, not because of any physical distinction of ours, but because we are elevated by their great height.
Authors like Poe, Borges, García Márquez, Cortázar or Juan Rulfo are the giants on whose shoulders a walkway has been formed with the twenty-four stories presented here, stories of this and other worlds, those we try to reach since we are human with questions, stories or religions in the perpetual crossing of a border with no way out. This route is the one that pretends to recreate this footbridge to scale, and it is hoped that the readers will enjoy as they cross the vertiginous structure that battalions of laborious and stubborn dwarfs raised leaning on golden beetles, paths that fork, planes of sleeping beauties, upside down nights, Luvinas: -What is it? -he said; “What is what? -He asked him; “That, that noise; “It’s the silence,” the builders were talking among themselves, still arguing and working, hanging over the abyss. http://editoraregional.gobex.es/
I am here again, in this obscurity with words. Now, without you, I am darkness and I am words. This is way this novel begins, with the letter that Alejo writes to his distant beloved. The moment of writing the letter is the best in the days of the protagonist, occupied nearly completely, in the caring of the so numerous elderly and is also occupied in “rising” the tower in which they live. The Humanity eventually defeated Death, finding out the clue in the final moments of the decrepitude of people, who instead of dying, and after a short and transitory process, they live practically for ever. But some time ago a cosmic cataclysm stopped the earth rotation and its inhabitants have to re-create days and nights with the use of huge machinery that transports whole cities through the border-line between light and darkness to keep the circadian rithms, which their lives have been built with, do not collapse, not to be destroyed.
