Andrés Amorós has a fluid pen, a curious eye, a good sense of humor, and a flair for writing in a variety of styles. This time, it’s a collection of short stories featuring portraits, prints, and snapshots of real and fictional characters, told with taste without bombastic sensationalism. Stories any of us could have known. These are the scenes in his book Portraits. True and Fake Stories  (Fórcola, 2024) focuses on.

He recommended reading the classics to one of his characters. This character was interested but realized that his friend “focused much more on ideas than on the beauty of form”: aesthetic sensibility wasn’t his strong suit (see p. 48). I felt alluded to by this comment, as I tend to read classical and contemporary literature that has substance and is beautifully expressed. Mere flourishes don’t appeal to me; I prefer narrative and poetry that says something with wit and depth: content and form, in that order.

Another of his subjects once read a review the author had written of one of his books. He said, “Besides being generous, your review is quite good. It doesn’t say too much nonsense. That’s quite a lot these days… But you should read a lot more.” Amorós takes life with a certain degree of philosophy and doesn’t take himself too seriously. On the other hand, it’s good advice to read a lot more. It gains depth, height, horizons, and also humility. We never stop learning and being amazed by discoveries hidden in the crevices of writing. This astonishment usually passes when, after a short or long time, we reread texts and discover new ways of doing things.

This same personality also encouraged him to explore other artistic paths: painting, sculpture, music, and film. He taught him, Amorós comments, “much more than most of the professors I taught at university: he gave me clues about names, places, and hidden links between different areas of art. From him, above all, I learned curiosity, freedom of spirit, a desire to work and enjoy all the good things in life (p. 59).” It is wonderful to encounter magnanimous teachers willing to develop the veins of good knowledge and good will, nestled in people’s souls.

Another of his friends was a musician: “He didn’t have the vanity of the diva artist, but rather the love of an honest craftsman for a well-done job. He mastered his craft (p. 89).” A true life plan. It reminds us of Antonio Machado’s saying: “Slowly and carefully, for doing things well is more important than doing them.” The task, the work, a job well done; not just doing many things in less time, but doing what is right and doing it with determination, whether the work is small or large, modest or complex. Such dedication is appreciated in any trade, a job to which we put our signature because we have put our all. Quality, dedication, seriousness, expertise, and study are the right ingredients for the good work of the honest craftsman. A way to make the city of men and the city of God flourish.

Amorós says of a famous playwright: “He was nearly eighty years old, but he still had the look and smile of a small child. I have rarely met an old man with such a joyful appearance, like a happy child (p. 95).” A joyful and jovial spirit vitalizes the body; it shows in the look. So often, it is the spirit that lifts the body and colors the spirit. Encountering happy faces uplifts. Joy, like goodness, is diffusive. On the other hand, popping balloons sour the vital climate with their sour expressions and disenchanted tone. Congratulations if we learn to grow old without spiritual sourness.

Portraits, a book to enjoy, think about, and smile about.