The Argentine writer combines poetry, novels, and essays in her latest work, where she establishes an absolute dialogue between life and literature.
Rarely does a book so vividly reveal the interstices and seams of a poetic that is twofold because it reveals not only the structures that sustain the work of María Negroni (Rosario, 1951), but also that of countless authors most dear to the author of "'El corazón del daño," through verbatim quotes and fabricated interviews that are so reminiscent of a brilliant book like Victor Hugo's "'Lo que dicen las mesas parlantes."
Colección permanente is dedicated to those who trust in chiaroscuro, paradoxes, and inconsistencies, perhaps because they sense that writing is an exercise without a model, a work of perdition.
The author's initial work is because she knows that she writes without knowing much about what she is talking about. What is provoked here is not literature, but the white, neutral voice of something unaccustomed.
