Publisher's Synopsis
&«¿Hasta dónde podemos recuperar una memoria ajena? ¿Es posible entender lo que un padre ha sido sin nosotros? Ser hijo significa descender, alterar el tiempo, crear un desarreglo, un desajuste que se subsana con pedagogìa, a veces con afecto o transmisión de conocimientos.»
Juan Villoro relata en La figura del mundo, el orden secreto de las cosas, algunos pasajes memoriosos en torno a su padre, el pensador mexicano-catalán, Luis Villoro. Sin el afán de hacer una biografìa en estricto sentido, Juan evoca aquì la vida singular de quien fuera filósofo, luchador social, zapatista y autor de una obra fundamental.
En este libro hace una aproximación a una figura a la vez ìntima y pública, adentrándose en las complejidades que toda vida tiene, narrando con maestrìa instantes que se desdoblan para entender el ubicuo presente. Recupera asì, pues, la esencia de un padre quien estuvo presente en la vida familiar de un modo intangible, un padre que debe ser indagado por un hijo que intuye sus afectos y renueva, asì, el pasado.
Escrito con gran sensibilidad y agudeza, este libro condensa el asombro y la emotividad para quien la escritura se convirtió en &«una permanente carta al padre»
ENGLISH DESCRIPTION
To what extent can we recover a foreign memory? Is it possible to understand what a father has been without us? Being a son means to descend, to alter the time, to create a disruption, being a mismatch that is fixed with pedagogy, sometimes with affection or with the transmission of knowledge.
Juan Villoro recounts in The Figure of The World, the secret order of things, and some memorable passages about his father, the Mexican-Catalan thinker, Luis Villoro. Without the desire to make a biography in the strict sense, Juan evokes the unique life of a former philosopher, social fighter, Zapatista, and author of a fundamental work in his view.
With this book, Villoro offers an approach to a figure that is both intimate and public, delving into the complexities that all lives have, and masterfully narrating moments that unfold to understand the ubiquity of the present. Thus, he recovers here the essence of a father who was present in his family life in an intangible way. This is a father who must be investigated by a son who senses his affections and therefore tries to renew the past.
Written with great sensitivity and sharpness, this book condenses the astonishment and emotion of an author who feels writing is "a never-ending letter to the father".
