Joan Pons Bover: "The Ciudad de Manacor prize has been a literary resurrection."

PalmAlthough it is being published now, Joan Pons Bover's (Santanyí, 1972) latest novel has been a lifelong endeavor. Inspired by his family's true story, As you wish, brothers, that I sing, Maria Antònia Oliver City of Manacor Novel Prize 2025,It is a historical journey through the memory of two brothers, sons of a teacher purged by the Franco regime.

In 2017 you won the Pollença Narrative Prize. Three years later, the City of Palma Prize. And now, the City of Manacor Prize. What has this last one meant for your career?

— It's been a kind of literary resurrection, since I hadn't published for five years and they felt incredibly long. These days it's not easy to publish under what I consider decent conditions, and a literary prize, besides the monetary award, guarantees relatively quick publication and provides you with a calling card to readers. The publishing market is somewhat precarious, and it's not always easy to see your years of work valued.

How many years have you been working on this novel?

— Well, the novel stems from a real family event: my maternal grandfather was a teacher purged by the Franco regime. Because he had a brother in the military, he managed to keep his punishment within the administration; he wasn't imprisoned or executed. So, despite all the injustice he suffered, he was still lucky. But I'd heard details of this story my whole life and had always wanted to do something about it. However, I thought I'd never be able to write it down and that I'd always feel miserable about it.

And you've finally done it. But it's not an essay; it's been fictionalized. Did you always say you'd explain it this way?

— Yes, I was very clear that I didn't want to write a historical essay, that I didn't intend to recreate what the godfather and his family experienced. The world of fiction has its own rhythm and its own rules; it ends up imposing its conditions, so I've been able to change, invent, and imagine many things, trying not to lose the essence of what really happened in order to tell a personal experience that, in some way, is collective.

The protagonists are two siblings, Jaume and Margalida. And the title, this fragment of a traditional song popularized by Uc, is related to her, Margalida.

— Yes, because Formentera is her lost paradise. She fell in love there, and it was a love that, so to speak, didn't work out. And what happened to her made me think of the story in Uc's song, about a young man who, when he comes home from celebrating with the girl, finds her father telling him he doesn't want him back and that they can't see each other anymore.

Margalida's memories take her mainly back to that time in Formentera, in the late 1940s. Was the repression in the Balearic Islands a topic she had yet to address?

— It wasn't that I wanted to speak directly about it; my aim wasn't to talk about the Civil War and its consequences. But just as if you were to set a story in 1970s Mallorca you'd have to talk about the tourist boom, if you set it in the 1930s and 40s you have to talk about all the disasters that occurred. It was the context for the characters. Now, my aim was to talk about everything that happens within families and the importance of memories as you get older. I've never believed that what my family went through was exceptional: if you think about it, all families face exceptional events, and I wanted to explore what mark they leave on the memories of those who lived through them.