Book neutrality program

In my first full-time job at a fund manager in Boston, brilliant people surrounded me. One of those individuals was a portfolio manager named Forrest Berkley, who was brilliant and, fortunately for me, very patient. One of his adages, which he personally did not keep, was that of paper neutrality. The idea is that for every paper that came into his office, another one had to leave. This was easier said than done; his office was full of stacks of research reports from stock markets around the world! But I liked the idea, and I would occasionally mention it as a joke when I threw away some paper.

Now that I am older, I have realized that I need less and less to be happy. I have become a bit of a minimalist. While having lots and lots of books might make you look smart, you really do not need them. Once you read a book, you are rarely going to return to it for reference or to re-read it. Let’s face it, how many books have you re-read? In my case, in over 40 years of reading, I have only re-read a handful of books.* So once you read a book, give it away, donate it, sell it, you do not need it.

In that spirit, I have evoked Forrest Berkley’s old adage, and I now have a self-imposed 100-book neutrality program at home. This means that I can only have 100 books at home at any given time. This requires a lot of reading and a lot of donating and giving away books. Does it work? Yes, more, or less, sometimes I might be a bit lenient, but then I remember, and I carefully go over my shelf. Picking out books that I know I shall never get around to reading, cleaning out doubles (I just gave away a Thomas Merton repeat to my yoga teacher, Paritosh), and getting rid of books I have read.

So, unless you like collecting stuff as a hobby, implement a neutrality program. For each blank that comes into your home/office/whatever, another item has to go. You are welcome…

  • Voltaire, Candide
  • Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea.
  • Gabriel Gárcia Márquez, Crónica de una muerte anunciada
  • Omar Khayam, Rubaiat
  • Unamumo, San Manuel Bueno, mártir
  • Federico Gárcia Lorca, La casa de Bernarda Alba
  • Cervantes, Don Quijote

Justice League of America: Los 7 originales, and Latino Book Review

Once you find something that you are passionate about, go all in; get involved, make friends who share your passion, and join a club or association. This will make your projects much more rewarding. You are welcome. My main hobby, which is also partly my job, is literature, words, and everything related to that: books, poetry, narrative, etc., etc.

If you follow this blog at all you know that I enjoy writing book and film reviews when I find something interesting to say about them. Since my job is also scholarly and academic, I also occasionally write book reviews for academic journals (see here).

Luis Correa-Díaz is a professor, a corresponding member of the Real Academia de la Lengua both in Chile and in the US, and a great poet and friend whom I follow. If you have a good memory and you read this blog, you might remember that I have reviewed some of his latest books (La Valparadisea, El escudo de Chile, and Valparaiso puerto principal).

Because I enjoy everything Luis Correa-Díaz writes, I recently bought his most recent project: Justice League of America: Los 7 originales, a bilingual compilation of Hispanic and Latino poetry. I liked it so much, I not only wrote a review, but sent it to the influential Latino Book Review for publishing, which they miraculously did!

You can read my review here.

Hope you like it.

A trio of lectures on linguistics.

Clarification: I am not a linguist. I did have to take a linguistics course as part of my PhD coursework, and, of course, it is difficult not to become a linguistics aficionado when studying literature, or when teaching the Spanish language.

Taking advantage of the cultural powerhouse that is Madrid, I recently attended three different lectures (at two different venues) on Spanish linguistics.

The first one at the Fundación Juan March was a general but excellent introduction to the Indo-European origins of European languages: ¿Qué es el indoeuropeo? La familia de lenguas indoeuropeas, by Complutense University Professor Juan Antonio Álvarez-Pedrosa. In his conference, Álvarez-Pedrosa explained the history of the study of Indo-European languages, dating back to Sir William Jones in 1786, and how he discovered connections between Sanskrit and ancient Greek, the methodology used to track the origins of languages, and how linguists have historically worked. It was a surprisingly enlightening session.

The second lecture in that series, La religion de los indoeuropeos: entre el mito y la historia, was given by Álvarez-Pedrosa’s colleague at the Complutense, Eugenio Luján. Luján explained the collaboration needed between archeologists and linguists to understand the cultures of different ancient tribes, mostly based on Adolphe Pictet’s theory. I did learn that the wheel was used for making ceramics before it was used for transportation! Stuff one learns in lectures on linguistics!

Luján then explained the connection between religion and linguistics based on the three levels of Hierarchy, War, and Production (of children, that is, basically, Love). I did find this section a midge of a stretch, but that is research and academia for you, pushing the envelope.

The third lecture was not connected. It was at the Ramón Areces Foundation by Real Academia de la Lengua member Pedro Álvarez de Miranda: Los comienzos del español moderno; el siglo XVIII. This lecture was by far the best! Álvarez de Miranda, with apparently endless knowledge, explained the evolution of the Spanish language in the 18th Century, leading us to “modern” Spanish. He referenced the work of Ramón Menéndez Pidal, Américo Castro, and Rafael Lapesa. He also explained the important work of the Jesuits and the missionaries in America, the novatores who were scientists in early 18th-century Spain, and, of course, the work of Benito Jerónimo Feijoo and of the Academy of which he is a member.

All in all, a great trio of lectures. Let me know in the comments if you have any questions.

On the importance of discipline and practice. Our Fall soccer game

A couple of times a year, I write about soccer. This coincides with my school team’s games. This year, our game in Miami was cancelled due to lightning, and the Palm Beach Young Adult tournament was also cancelled due to scheduling issues. Fortunately, we finally had a chance to play against a local group, the Amori Christi campus of the Jesus Youth.

After twenty years of coaching, I mostly value two things in soccer nowadays: the discipline you bring to practice and the player’s psychology. Today, let’s focus on discipline.

We have all seen great players who have wasted their careers to partying. While we do not play in any competitive conference, you can still see the players who commit to improving and those who just want to have fun.

At the end of the day, discipline in whatever you decide to do in life will set you free from the slavery of your worst self, the “I don’t feel like studying/practicing/showering/etc, worst self. So start slow, but be mindful and purposeful to develop routines that will improve your soccer game or whatever craft you wish to improve at. You are welcome

The takeaway for me this year is the importance of staying focused, of constant practice, to prepare for a game, the game, every game, is important. The men did not disappoint, earning a resounding win (8-2), but the score is not important; the preparation, the mindset, and showing up are what I appreciate.

Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters at the Norton Museum

Years ago, I heard that the three most influential artists in history were Velázquez, Goya, and Rembrandt. I am not an artist, so I cannot opine, but it does make a lot of sense. Velázquez and Goya —I am fairly familiar with them, since I spend a lot of time at the Prado Museum (which only has one Rembrandt). Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters are fascinating, but I am less familiar (although I did spend time at the Rijksmuseum back in the Mesozoic era).

The Norton Museum has just opened a phenomenal exhibit on Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters from the largest private collection, The Leiden, and I have already seen it twice and hope to see it a few more times. I have already scheduled a visit for one of my classes!

The exhibit is phenomenal; it includes many Rembrandts, various other Dutch Masters, and, as a bonus, a Vermeer!

The works are mostly from the 17th century, although there are a handful from the 18th. So, Dutch Baroque, which is a bit different from the rest of European Baroque, especially Italian and Spanish, but still plays with the chiaroscuro. Jesus at the Mount of Olives is a great example of that technique.

Yes, the Vermeer is my favorite; it is just a girl, a piano, and a chair, but it does so much more than any of the other paintings. It is tiny, but the girl’s gaze, her hair with its almost transparent bow, her dress, two tiny pearls on her neck, the trademark light pouring from a high window. I have written before about the victory of minimalism, but this might take the cake!

So if you are in South Florida before March 29, reserve your ticket and see this exhibition. You are welcome.

Teaching Hack #429: Get a guest speaker to present in your class.

Whenever possible, if you find the right person at the right time, get a guest speaker.

Bishop Silvio Báez @silviojosebaez of Managua is a Carmelite who just happens to work at my school. After much discussion and persuasion, I finally convinced him to attend my Spanish Art and Literature class to talk about St. John of the Cross. We arranged, organized, and scheduled, and he exceeded expectations. Bishop Báez brought his old St. John book, tattered and torn, from when he was a seminarian!

We only had time to explore the first 5 stanzas of the Spiritual Canticle, and he showed us how the writing leads directly to spirituality. Of course, St. John is the master of lyric poetry, and Bishop Baez knew exactly how to tease out St. John’s technique, method, and tricks to transport the reader to a deep spiritual realm. Bravo!

Of course, for the students, it is a new, different voice —an authority on the subject— presenting new material.

Over the years, I have managed to get the Spanish Consul in Boston and his Education Attaché to come chat. Poet Daniel Bosch explained how the very structure of Pablo Neruda’s Veinte Poemas de Amor is in itself a poem. At UNC, I met the owner of a local restaurant who spoke excellent Spanish, so I invited her to my Spanish for Business class.

On the other hand, if you can talk about a subject with some authority, then it is only fair for you to give back by being a guest speaker. I have been a guest speaker a couple of times: once on bullfighting, a couple of times on entrepreneurship, and a couple of times on public speaking.

So if the stars align and you can pull it off, get a guest speaker; your students will appreciate it.

The amazing pianist I did not know: Vladimir Ashkenazy – With free giveaway!

Ashkenazy 46 cd (plus book and 2 dvds) boxed set

Although classical music might be showing signs of an increase in popularity, the overall trend seems to be decreasing. This brings me to today’s paradox: Due to social media, “rock star” classical musicians are more popular than their counterparts of decades ago (with obvious exceptions: Callas, Pavarotti, Segovia, et al.). Nowadays, Joshua Bell, Gustavo Dudamel (dude had a TV series, Mozart in the Jungle, based on him!), Lang Lang, Yo-Yo Ma, etc. (they each have around a million followers on Instagram!)

So the question would be: in equal circumstances (ceteris paribus) and access to YouTube, TikTok, Netflix, etc., how would a ranking of classical musicians look? And how would modern musicians stack up against pre-social media ones?

All this, because maybe (probably) I am an ignoramus and did not know Russian turned Icelandic pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy until recently. A dear colleague who just retired is a classical music connoisseur. He is also terribly generous and constantly regaled me with CDs that he was cleaning out.

One such gift was the boxed set (with book and DVDs) of Ashkenazy’s collected piano recordings. Obviously, it is not all the works ever written for piano, but it is 46 CDs including:

Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Bach, Brahms, Mozart, Schumann, Prokofiev, Beethoven, Scriabin, Previn, Chopin, Bartók, Glazunov, Franck

A couple of the works are repeated, albeit at different stages of Ashkenazy’s life, so if you have a fine ear, you can evaluate his evolution.

Listening to this whole body of work has taken me about 2 years, since I only have a CD player in my (old) car (see about minimalism here). And I replayed every CD multiple times!

This was a beautiful journey for me, learning about the magic of the piano, how different composers worked with the piano, etc. My favorite? The usual suspects: Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Brahms… My least favorite: Previn.

So now that I have enjoyed listening to this phenomenal collection, it is time for me to give it away. If you live in South Florida and you want to pick it up, we can arrange it. If you pay the shipping costs, I will be happy to ship it wherever you want me to. First-come first-served. This is very rare and is not available easily.

Celebrating 10 years of Yoga

As any normal person who has gone to the gym with certain regularity knows, it is mind-numbingly boring. I had heard all the wonderful benefits of Yoga, so about ten years ago, when somebody offered me a Yoga class at the gym in Chapel Hill, I signed up.

I liked it, I liked it enough to return and make it part of my routine, which also meant not doing the same boring workouts. I moved to Florida and continued going to Yoga at my local gym, and so on. Back in Spain, I dropped it; there seemed to be a disconnect between the mentality of Yoga and Spain’s well-established Scholastic tradition. I tried a few venues, but was not convinced

When I returned Stateside, after a bad experience at a local studio, I eventually found Paritosh at Casa Manabilss. What I realized was akin to thinking that for years I had been going to Taco Bell, thinking I was eating Mexican food, and then trying Mexican food in Mexico! My life was changed; I had now entered into real Yoga. Paritosh patiently explains not only the asanas, but they why, the philosophy, the history, the spirituality, the whole package!

On top of that, Paritosh is hilarious! Yes, I know all the jokes and when they are going to drop, but that is part of what makes the class fun.

Originally, the class was labeled Yin Yoga, a type of Yoga that works the fascia of the muscles by holding the asanas longer. Now it is Raja (Royal) Yoga, which gives Paritosh more room to do more encompassing exercises: meditations, breathing exercises, Yoga Nidra, etc. It is a very enriching class, as you never know exactly what the components are going to be, but they are always amazing.

Also, Casa Manabliss has a new home in what used to be the function room of a restaurant! They have done a great job preparing it and keeping the disco ball! It is a great new venue!

Sándor Marai, the best author you have never heard of —existentialism from another angle. (Warning: spoilers)

Sandor Marai – El matarife

Last Summer, when I returned from Budapest, gushing with excitement from my visit, my sister gifted me Sandor Márai’s first novel, El matarife (The Slaughterer, The Butcher). I had never heard of him, but I was quickly absorbed by the Joseph Roth-like, turn of the (20th) Century style, which I love, and you can read about here.

Most protagonists in Existentialist literature have either lofty or uncertain, questionable motives. Yes, they might be murderers, think of Raskolnikov or Meursault, but either they try to justify their motives or, following Existential absurdity, they simply do not care. Other, more lofty existentialists, such as Don Quixote or Unamuno’s San Manuel Bueno, are not afraid to stand up for their beliefs.

In El Matarife (A mészáros in Hungarian) (1924) —which has yet to be translated into English! Marai creates a different narrative. Otto, who, as the title implies, will become a slaughterer, a butcher, enjoys killing, firstly cattle in Berlin’s market, then enemy soldiers and civilians during WWI. And eventually, as expected, he becomes a serial killer, who then kills himself.

The beauty of this book lies in Marai’s buildup of the narrative. We know Otto is a little different when, as a child, he enjoys seeing an ox get slaughtered. I remember being traumatized as a child seeing my neighbor’s pigs slaughtered, and that was a festive, community event! We also notice Otto is a detached fellow, no real friends, no girlfriend, no wife. Otto seems conscious of his behavior, which even earns him an Iron Cross from the Emperor himself!

Enough spoilers, if you can get your hands on some Marai, it will not disappoint. You are welcome.

Embers, originally published in 1942, was eventually published in English in 2001. It did garner critical acclaim, and I have it on the reading list.

Anton Raphael Mengs at the Prado Museum (hurry, until March 1, 2026)

Yes, I might have a mildly obsessive personality. One such obsession is the 18th Century, I rather flourish with everything to do Enlightenment, Neoclassical, late Baroque, early Romantic, you get my drift.

When I found out there was a Mengs exhibit at the Prado, I did not go once; I went twice (and I might go again) —Advantage of being an “Amigo del Prado,” I get in for free 😊

Mengs is the consummate 18th-century, Enlightenment painter. Although he worked for a lot of European nobility, most of his work was for King Carlos III in Madrid; in fact, most of Mengs’ work I have seen was at the Palacio Real in Madrid.

My main scholarly project at the moment (sorry, I cannot disclose too many details) involves a Francisco de Isla book that was in the library of the Spanish-Italian Cardinal Zelada. What was my surprise when reading the description of a portrait at the exhibit, that it was Cardenal Zelada, which normally lives at the Art Institute of Chicago, what a coincidence! (Check it out here).

The exhibit is phenomenally curated; it has hundreds of paintings gathered from around the world, divided into 10 huge areas grouping different stages and themes. It is worth the visit.

So if you are in Madrid before March 1st, 2026, go to the Prado and check out the Mengs exhibition. You are welcome.