Marina Perezagua: "I have invested all the money in a little house in Malaga"

Marina Perezagua speaks disenchantedly about New York. Even before Trump's rise, the city was suffering the blows of decline, as reflected in its atrocious racism, neighborhood surveillance, the madness of political correctness in academia, rampant suicides, and the nightmare of mental illness. After two decades of living in the megacity, the writer has decided to capture some of her experiences in the short story book 'Luna Park' (Páginas de Espuma). Tired of the raw New York life, the author has found her place among us, in Istán.

–Has New York become an unbearable city?

–There used to be a certain network of solidarity. Now people walk past someone lying on the ground without even checking if they are breathing. It all started with the pandemic, which was devastating. The lack of access to healthcare, the number of people without medical insurance, with mental illnesses, locked up without medication... Horrible. I've spent time in the subway and seen things that were unthinkable before and that break your soul. The homeless masturbate, defecate... It has become so normalized that it doesn't even make the news anymore.

–Did these things happen 20 years ago when you arrived in the city?

–No, I remember a homeless man wanted to get on the bus. He smelled bad, yes, but he had his money and could pay. The driver wouldn't let him on. Nobody said a word, but all the passengers got off in protest. That kind of solidarity was common, there was humanity. A woman was set on fire and nobody did anything. It's insane.

–You denounce a deterioration of university life.

–Now with Trump it's a delirium, but it was already bad before he arrived. Even then, you couldn't speak freely. There were forbidden topics, books that I couldn't include in the syllabus. All because of political correctness.

–Can you give an example of book censorship?

–Columbus' diaries. I was teaching a course about literature and the sea. Obviously, I'm willing to talk about colonialism. But I was discussing Columbus as a navigator. Even so, that book was not allowed. The guests I proposed had to meet certain profiles. If they were heterosexual and had a traditional family, there was a problem. And let's not even talk if they were Spanish. Spain is still seen as the colonizing country.

–How did it all start?

–In the humanities departments, there has always been less budget than in the sciences. Maybe that's why some felt the need to justify their place by politicizing everything. It was no longer enough to talk about literature; it had to be manifestos.

–That's why you've decided to settle in the town of Istán in Málaga.

–It will be a radical change. All the money I had, I invested in a little house there; at least I don't have a mortgage. And I'm doing interviews with international schools, which are plentiful in the area, to start teaching.

–You present New York as a city of extreme contrasts.

–You could see an executive next to a street artist. However, there is a deep social illness: shooting drills, constant evacuations. I started having thoughts I never thought I'd have. I, who have always been against guns, wondered if I shouldn't have one to protect my daughter.

–What do you think about the fact that some writers have criticized writing a book about José Bretón?

–I think there have been more supports than criticisms. It's logical for a mother to oppose writing about the murder of her children, it's normal. I would do the same. But, honestly, I think there has been some envy.