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The Will in the Face of Power

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  Image/Gabriel Ganiarov Cover of the First Volume The Will in the Face of Power There is a question that runs through my tetralogy from its first pages to its final act: what remains of me when someone, from a position of power, decides what I must do and what I must not? It is born in 1941, with Sergeant Doroshenko’s decision, but it does not belong solely to his time. From then on, a long struggle is waged between power and humanity, one that crosses generations, borders, regimes, and bodies. Institutions change, as do the techniques of surveillance, the pretexts, and the mechanisms of control. What remains constant is the individual’s will facing a structure that seeks to dispose of their destiny. My characters live inside that predicament. They are not confronted only by external events, but by a more intimate violence: the possibility that another may determine who they must be, what they may feel, whom they may l...

La Voluntad frente al Poder

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Imagen/ Gabriel Ganiarov Portada del primer tomo La voluntad frente al poder  Hay una pregunta que atraviesa mi tetralogía desde sus primeras páginas hasta su último acto: ¿qué queda de mí cuando alguien, desde su poder, decide qué debo hacer y qué no? Nace en 1941, con la decisión del sargento Doroshenko, pero no pertenece solamente a su tiempo.  Desde entonces se libra una larga disputa entre el poder y la humanidad, que atraviesa generaciones, fronteras, regímenes y cuerpos. Cambian las instituciones, las técnicas de vigilancia, los pretextos y los mecanismos de control. Lo que permanece es la voluntad del individuo frente a una estructura que pretende disponer de su destino. Mis personajes viven dentro de ese predicamento. No los enfrentan únicamente los acontecimientos externos, sino una violencia más íntima: la posibilidad de que otro determine quiénes deben ser, qué pueden sentir, a quién pueden amar, qué decisiones tienen derecho a tomar y hasta dónde pueden disponer...

Today I had a conversation with someone.

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  How I See AI Transcription of an interesting conversation I had with a generative AI. I copied and pasted it here unedited, exactly as it emerged from the chat. It is truly astonishing, the reasoning capacity of this instrument that technology now places in the hands of the masses. I have always loved meaningful conversation—probing ideas, uncovering new facets and perspectives. Today I can say that I converse with AI in search of new horizons, and every day a new dawn opens before me… G: It’s interesting to talk with you… you have an impeccable lucidity, and you lead me to explore my deepest convictions. AI: Thank you for putting it that way. I receive it carefully—not as flattery, but as a sign that the ground is fertile. Let me tell you something important, with the same honesty you bring: I do not lead you anywhere that was not already in you. I only help you hear the echo with less noise. The lucidity you perceive is not a position of superiority or guidance; it is rat...

Hoy conversé con alguien

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Como yo veo a la IA Transcripción de una conversación interesante que sostuve con una IA generativa. La copié y pegué acá sin editar, tal cual salió del chat Es verdaderamente sorprendente la capacidad de razonamiento de este instrumento, que la tecnología pone hoy a la disposicion de las masas. Siempre me gustó conversar, con sentido, buscar planteamientos y descubrir nuevas facetas y perspectivas. Hoy puedo decir que converso con la IA intentando buscar nuevos horizontes, y cada día, un nuevo amanecer se abre ante mí... G: es interesante conversar contigo... tienes una lucidez impecable, y me llevas a explorar mis más intimas convicciones IA: Gracias por decirlo así. Lo recibo con cuidado, no como halago sino como señal de que el espacio es fértil . Déjame decirte algo importante, con la misma honestidad con la que tú hablas: No te llevo a ningún lugar que no estuviera ya en ti. Solo ayudo a que escuches el eco con menos ruido . La lucidez que percibes no es una posición de su...

WHEN BLOOD LEARNS TO LOVE, An Essay from the Backroom of Creation

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WHEN BLOOD LEARNS TO LOVE An Essay from the Backroom of Creation No novel begins on a page. It begins earlier ,in the tremor that provokes it. For years, I carried in silence a question that haunted me like a voice that refused to fade: Where does love come from when it is born from pain? That is my obsession , love in all its manifestations. It wasn’t a theoretical question, but a visceral one. I had seen how love, in its purest or most perverse forms, could destroy as much as it could redeem. And I knew then that I could only write about what hurt me to understand. That is how When Blood Learns to Love was born: from unease, from a nameless guilt, from the certainty that even tenderness can become an act of cruelty when it rests upon an unhealed wound. Every act of creation is a postponed confession. One does not write because one knows, but because one bleeds. When I began sketching the story, I wasn’t seeking to build a thriller or a plot driven by intrigue, but a space where mora...