We shall begin with the self-portrait, there where there is just the hint of a human figure: a pair of blue legs, almost folded as if they were about to start limping or fall to their knees (those knees are getting weak), rest heavily 011 a disintegrating black; it is as though this broken point of support were a stained prolongation, a distillation of the heels. The figure is separate from what has a frame, an Italian coat-of-arms with a bird of prey gazing out over the shoulder, a monolith that could be a head twisted round, a Japanese Q or a white, featureless head surrounded and underlined by red. And then, the tadpole black.

JAVIER MARÍAS. Touched visions

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