Alfonso Basterra, once at the center of one of Spain's most notorious criminal cases, has taken to the world of literature, publishing his first novel titled Cito from behind the bars of Teixeiro Prison. This work, imbued with personal significance, is dedicated to his daughter, the late 12-year-old
"My girl, my life, my great love". Bubblewrap around Basterra's past, which includes his conviction for the murder of his daughter, greatly complicates the public's perception of this creative venture.
The novel, released by the editorial house Ediciones Vitruvio, is set against the backdrop of 1940s rural Spain. The characters and plot are described as being filled with
"humanity and magic", articulated through the lens of love and loss, with editors noting its captivating narrative quality. "We were surprised by the quality with which the novel was written," remarked the editor, who prefers to remain anonymous. This acknowledgment reflects the unexpected literary talent Basterra manifestly possesses amid the controversies surrounding his incarceration.
The publication has elicited diverse reactions, stirring conversations across social media platforms. The dedication itself —
"A father dedicates a book to his daughter, it is normal," said the editor. Yet, the very act of writing and dedicacing the novel has drawn ire and disgust from various community members and organizations concerned with the case. The association SOS Desaparecidos openly criticized the publication, describing it as "indignant" and branding Basterra’s actions as "an aberration". This sentiment echoes among other social media users, proclaiming, "repugnant" and wishing no one would purchase the book.
Though the reaction remains polarizing, one thing is clear: literature has become an escape for Basterra during his lengthy prison sentence. He has dedicated considerable time to writing, spending most of his day either reading or working at the prison library. Since entering incarceration, Basterra has had no permissions to leave the premises, seeking such benefits twice since his initial sentencing, all met with denial from the prison administration. Factors influencing these decisions include his consistent claims of innocence and lack of remorse for the crime he was convicted for. His incarceration narrative is markedly complex, continuing to evolve as he writes and works toward producing more literary material.
The novel Cito, spans approximately 140 pages, and according to the synopsis provided by the publisher, encompasses themes of both love and loss pure to humanity's experiences. This channeling of emotions through prose appears to shape Basterra's experience as he navigates the confines of prison life. The publisher noted the communication with the author has been strictly epistolary; they have never interacted face-to-face or via phone calls.
The setting of the book, reflecting on rural life, incorporates magical realism, inviting readers to explore deep emotional landscapes. The complexity of Basterra's tale is underscored by the contrasting nature of its author and the literary world he aims to penetrate. The book reads like both fiction and autobiography; its pages filled with layers of grief, emotive storytelling, and humane characters may grate against the specter of the author's past actions, demanding readers reconcile the story on both wider and narrower levels.
While Cito gains attention, Alfonso Basterra is reportedly writing the continuation of this narrative, indicating his resolve remains undeterred by the notoriety surrounding him. Publisher's future reveals he may continue producing literary works, boasting creative vigor drawn from his experiences, albeit stirred with feelings of conflict imposed by society.
With his conviction remaining intact — confirmed by the courts both locally and at the supreme level — old wounds continue to stir for onlookers. The heinous act of murdering his adopted daughter left the public grappling with the aftermath, resulting not only from sorrow and loss but wrestling with the stark realities of parental betrayal. This narrative drives the undercurrents of Basterra's literary pursuits: can he, through art, find redemption? Or does art mirror his past transgressions irrevocably?
Echoes of Basterra, the convicted mother, have reverberated through the years post-murder: Rosario Porto, the children's mother and additional defendant, took her life within the confines of the prison system— all drama permanently imprinting the tragedy of the Basterra-Porto family saga. This intimate knowledge of suffering underpins Basterra's literary compositions, anxious to welcome readers ensnared by both the beauty and horror contained within.
'Cito', the book released amid the ripple effects of the Netflix series 'El Caso-Asunta', which reignited the interest surrounding the titular case, is now more than just text—it requires readers to digest its intrinsic conflict: can one develop and innovate even when entwined with deep-seated sins?
Through the act of creation, Basterra physically navigates the confines crafting his narrative; whether justice prevails through these words remains to be seen, as the debate escalates whether his literary emergence dislodges any old judgements of his legacy.