Ese principe que fui by Jordi Soler

By Jordi Soler

L. a. historia imposible del último descendiente de Moctezuma en l. a. España de los años sesenta: un príncipe o un impostor «Su Alteza Imperial Federico de Grau Moctezuma iba por España, en los años sesenta, como el auténtico y único heredero del imperio azteca. Cuando se enteró de su noble linaje, reorientó su vida hacia l. a. recuperación del tiempo perdido. Porque después de reflexionar un poco sobre lo que acababan de revelarle, alcanzó a vislumbrar que todo aquello, más que una historia excéntrica que vendría a ponerle sal a su vida, escondía una riqueza que él estaba llamado a explotar.»
Esta es los angeles crónica de los angeles estirpe del último emperador azteca. O bien es el relato de un huge engaño urdido por un pícaro del siglo XXI. Tal vez es las dos cosas al mismo tiempo, ya que l. a. Historia ofrece a menudo las suficientes grietas como para que por ellas se filtre l. a. invención.

En el siglo XVI, una hija de Moctezuma es raptada por un noble español que l. a. lleva hasta un pueblo remoto del Pirineo. Allí nacerá un niño, origen de una enloquecida familia vinculada a un tesoro que, según cuenta los angeles leyenda, fue enterrado por los angeles princesa en tierras catalanas. l. a. búsqueda de ese tesoro conduce al narrador hasta un personaje inverosímil, Kiko Grau, quien, aprovechando su condición de heredero del imperio azteca, se introduce en l. a. alta burguesía de Barcelona. Entre el delirio, l. a. picaresca y los angeles responsabilidad histórica que le impone su origen, Su Alteza Imperial triunfa en l. a. España franquista estafando a todos aquellos que anhelan añadir a su nombre un título nobiliario que los avale socialmente. Por absurdo que sea el título. Por falso que sea el reconocimiento que conlleve.

Ese príncipe que fui es l. a. deslumbrante narración de los angeles vida frenética de Federico de Grau Moctezuma, de sus glorias y de sus fracasos, de su afán de ostentación, de su afición a los angeles fiesta y al alcohol, de su ascenso y su caída, y de su oscuro retiro en un pueblo mexicano cuyos habitantes son los únicos que reconocen sus nexos con l. a. realeza prehispánica.

Jordi Soler mezcla realidad y ficción en una novela de prosa arrolladora. Un viaje de ida y vuelta entre México y España en el que los angeles Historia, con mayúscula, se entremezcla con los angeles exuberante imaginación del escritor.

La crítica ha dicho sobre el autor y su obra:
«Vividor, esperpéntico, estafador, borracho, parásito del franquismo, ésta muy unusual Alteza Imperial, pese a todo, un digno exponente del quijostismo common, y junto con su Crispín, su sanchesco escudero gitano, confirma una pareja singular que logra enamorar al lector a lo largo de estas páginas deliciosas.»
Laura Restrepo

«Una imaginación mágica y arrolladora.»
Jorge Semprún

«Un autor imposible de olvidar.»
Jesús Martínez Gómez, Mercurio

«Un narrador fuera de serie.»
Delphine Peras, Lire

«Jordi Soler es, ante todo, un poeta.»;
Xavier Houssin, Le Monde

«De vez en cuando encontramos un libro que nos atrapa y nos transporta, que nos hace sentir y pensar, que nos sacude y nos entusiasma como una descarga eléctrica. A mí me pasó esta semana, y el libro se llama Los rojos de ultramar.»
Ignacio Martínez de Pisón

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Sample text

Bridazak wandered over to the window and watched Spilf move through the shadow of night until he could not be seen any longer. He stared down the small street to Gathford. The shadows were heavy as the night waned. He caught a sudden but slight shift in the blackness. Yes, there was something hiding within, but it was far down the street, three structures beyond, just past the old candle shop. Bridazak’s eyes narrowed to focus in. ” Dulgin asked as he walked behind Bridazak and looked out the window.

Claws sprang out of paws attached to shaggy, light brown fur. A hateful expression of rage was on their distorted rodent faces. These were giant rats. Bridazak’s shot unerringly hit his first opponent between its eyes. Without hesitation he quickly pulled out another arrow and struck the second rat in the chest with deadly accuracy. It slammed it into the cold stone floor. Dulgin pulled out a throwing axe and hurled it toward his mark. The vile thing fell dead with the hatchet buried in its head.

The conversation was meant to keep their defenses down, but now Bridazak moved quickly to pull forth his short 55 bow and notch an arrow, as he knew that Dulgin’s chime was not diplomatic enough to hold them back any longer. They rushed the group from the darkness. Claws sprang out of paws attached to shaggy, light brown fur. A hateful expression of rage was on their distorted rodent faces. These were giant rats. Bridazak’s shot unerringly hit his first opponent between its eyes. Without hesitation he quickly pulled out another arrow and struck the second rat in the chest with deadly accuracy.

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