Everything breaks, by Juan José Millás

I read that many people see the broadcast sporting events on TV with the spirit of someone who attends a pornographic show. Lovers of tights, tight clothing, shorts, legs and arms in the air & mldr; If true, and it seems that it is, we would be facing a hidden psychopathy. That exemplary husband, who has tuned into a women’s tennis match whose adventures he attends while drinking a beer, is really seeing something different from what he pretends to see. But he does it under a perfect alibi, well there is nothing more innocent than a sports competition. The wife and daughters of this subject come and go from the kitchen to the bedrooms, they cross the living room, perhaps they blow him a kiss as they pass without realizing that the exemplary father and spouse are watching a show that has nothing to do with it. with the one that appears on the screen.

-But you didn’t like tennis! – says one of the daughters.

-But I’m getting the point – he says.

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Here is a case of curious double life, a double life carried out inside the home. I wonder if, on the unconscious level, his environment is aware of what is happening, although he represses it to avoid getting into trouble. For years, child abuse took place (and perhaps still) in the family environment. There was, in fact, no safer place to rape a child than one’s home. Why? Because there, often, they looked the other way. When the grandfather went out of his way with the granddaughter, the granddaughter knew that she should keep quiet because she was the culprit. In this blaming the victim, we have reached a virtuosity worth studying. There has been no abused girl or boy who did not feel guilty about being attacked.

When psychologists speak of a “Incestuous environment & rdquor ;, refer to an atmosphere in which, Without actually committing sexual atrocities, the conditions are in place for them to happen. I don’t like sports in general and when I stumble across a football game on TV, I immediately change the channel. People who suddenly start to like rhythmic gymnastics, wonder why? We live in a prepatological world in which nothing is what it seems? Maybe yes, I don’t know. Does everything break, does everything corrupt?

Reference-www.elperiodico.com

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