Surely, the book I have given as a gift the most times is Paradise is other people (Leonario Muntaner, Editor, 2016), by Valter Hugo Mãe. Not only because of the magnificent translation from Portuguese by Gabriel de la ST Sampol, nor because of the illustrations by Joan Miró that the publisher was wise enough to accompany it. No; if I've given this book away so often, it's because it presents a very specific vision of the importance of loving, of living in community, of a way of being in the world and cohabiting it. Like a beautiful and radical contradiction to Sartre's maxim that "hell is other people," Mãe speaks of love, of the very diverse types of couples and families that there can be, of animals, of sadness, and of loneliness, and she does so with the seemingly candid voice of a doll. She reminds us that life can be a little more worthwhile if we are part of a "we."
However, it seems the world isn't going down this path. Whether because of the counter-reformation orchestrated by the reactionary international community on an international scale, or because of the miseries that sometimes also define human nature, I get the impression that the society we live in, this supposedly more global and interconnected society than ever, is pushing us toward a world of isolated solitude. The idea is simple and advances at a dizzying pace: they want to turn our lives into watertight compartments, into separate entities that look exclusively to their own benefit and well-being. The priority, naturally, is to make money. You have to be invulnerable, self-sufficient, never dependent on others in any way. You have to consume, spend, and whenever possible, make this consumption the axis of your identity. Rich. Poor. Unemployed. Depleted. In this sense, it's important to have a good house, if possible, without neighbors. It's also essential to have a good car, and to travel more and more by car to avoid contact with other humans. You should also have an iPhone and a good number of followers. It's desirable to have social media accounts so you can share experiences and emotions (especially positive ones) and avoid having to tell your friends your troubles in unproductive time. You have to have children, and it's better not to worry about others. It's better to focus strictly on the number of people who fit under one roof and, if possible, within one room. Beyond this, in this context of unbridled post-capitalism, it's better to have no ties, no exchanges, no interactions.
From a humanist perspective, from a perspective of life, Valter Hugo Mãe's book says no to all of this. "Our happiness depends on someone," he reminds us. He also tells us that "love is a problem, but the person we love must be the solution." I like to think that this phrase can also be expressed in the plural, and that it is in the "we," in the community, that we will find the alternative to this dark landscape. Hell can also look a lot like an "I" who has done everything so well that he is left alone.
