Mexican novelist David Toscana: We must write for future generations

That being said – there are, of course, genuinely great authors; they simply don't enjoy a large readership. Ultimately, I would say that the decline in literary standards can be attributed more to publishers and readers than to the authors themselves.

What inspired you to become an author, and when did you start writing novels?

Well, growing up, we didn't have a big collection of books at home. We had the Encyclopedia Britannica, which I read fervently. There was a supermarket nearby that announced that they would give away one literary classic for every purchase of 100 pesos. That's how I ended up reading Don Quixote by Cervantes and Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky. I fell in love with both instantly.

As for me, I only started writing after I turned 30. I have no clue what came over me that compelled me to write the first few lines I ever wrote, but when I did, I realised that this would be my path for the rest of my life.

How do you perceive the art of storytelling?

I believe that great novels encompass philosophy. Philosophy is important to me. As a reader, I don't want to be a passive observer. I want to become an active participant who interacts, on a personal level, with a book and its characters and events.

Literature has explored several of the same questions that philosophy has. Some novelists have even surpassed traditional philosophy through their discussions of philosophical dilemmas and their approach to the truth. That's why Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and Tolstoy's War and Peace can rightfully be deemed philosophical novels.

This is true of older literary masterpieces, too. Philosopher Socrates constantly examined the idea of justice without finding any satisfying answers. Yet, Aeschylus, his contemporary, came close to illuminating justice in his plays like The Oresteia, Euripides, and The Trojans.

What changed within you during the time between your previous novel, Tula Station, and The Burden of Living on Earth?

To start, I had aged twice as much by the time I wrote the second novel. I had also read a number of books in that time and gone through profound experiences. Most importantly, I began to feel the proximity of death. In my thirties, my go-to writer was Dostoevsky, but by my sixties, I had replaced him with Chekhov. Chekhov battled tuberculosis for roughly half of his life, and that's probably what made him pivot his writing towards exploring the meaning of life.

The title of your recent novel, The Burden of Living on Earth, resonates with each of us, as we all experience that burden while going through our day-to-day. Do you believe that literature can serve as a remedy to this burden?

We do feel, at times, like life is a burden. But in moments of extreme distress – and in the most challenging of times – we typically choose life over death. As one of Chekhov's characters says: "Even an insect desires to live."

I believe that great novels are an integral part of our lives and experiences – a profound reflection of reality. My connection with Don Quixote runs deeper than that with any of my friends. I don't believe that reading should necessarily provide the happiness required to confront life's burdens, but it certainly elevates our humanity.

Each novelist has a distinct style and a unique way of presenting their world through words. In your opinion, what does a writer need to do to write a creative novel?

A skilled writer is both a philosopher and a deep thinker, able to convey both simple and complicated concepts with purpose. If a writer aims to create literature, they should be able to create art by subtly weaving together characters, situations, and clever diction.

As a reader, I might very well shed a tear whenever I revisit the passage in Crime and Punishment where Raskolnikov kneels before Sonia, declaring: "It is not before you I am kneeling but before all the suffering of mankind."

Do you have a special definition of what makes a "novel"?

I would define it as a whole life woven from words.

And how would you characterise a great novel? What criteria should it meet?

Again, a great novel encompasses art and philosophy but avoids repetition. Another important point: a remarkable novel can be read over and over again, at different stages in one's life, and still have the same hold on its reader; it delivers something new and unexpected and reveals undiscovered secrets that give way to fresh interpretations.

How has being a Mexican writer living in Europe impacted you?

Though I'm physically distant from my homeland, I'm not emotionally detached from it. I always write about the history of my country. Unlike some other Mexican writers who delve into topics like violence, corruption, or drug cartels – subjects that don't pique my interest, as a writer – I try to create connections between Europe and Mexico.

The events of one of my novels take place in Warsaw, while another is based in the former city of Koenigsberg, now known as Kaliningrad. Another novel unfolds in Jerusalem. My recent work, The Burden of Living on Earth, combines Russian with the Mexican literature of the 1970s. Madrid has replaced Paris as the European hub hosting many Latin American writers today.

You've always explored the potency of imagination and its influence on our lives in your books. How did you weave it into your most recent novel?

The novel's protagonist realises that his life is dull. So, he proposes an idea to his wife – they would fully immerse themselves in popular Russian books and become the characters in these books. There is a hint of Don Quixote's idealism here, but the husband and wife are not driven by their own self-importance; they don't view themselves as noble knights.

Instead, they want to temporarily embody the roles of alcoholics, tuberculosis patients, prostitutes, murderers – even prison inmates. They don't want to debase themselves in the process. They just want to gain a deeper understanding of the different facets of human existence. As the Roman playwright Terence once said, "I am human, I consider nothing human alien to me."

You have a good command of humour, both in your real life and your novels. Vargas Llosa hinted at this when he said that your sense of humour is far from simple, but sophisticated. How do you incorporate this humour into your work?

I consider my sense of humour a natural part of my personality that effortlessly comes out when I speak or write. But it's not very conventional.

To me, genuine humour is born out of inspiration; it reveals paradoxes or absurdities. It should be written with the discerning reader in mind; someone who not only smiles or laughs but also engages in reflection and contemplation.

On another note, I'm happy to say that my latest novel has the potential to ignite some sparks within the world of artificial intelligence!