Real histories are sad…, and, when novelar them adquiern the look of qui- it creates in them: I talk about
the fiction of a man who against all odds it fought from the same beginning, when knowing a love that would disturb du- rante 50 years, and that, to the aim! , lograria in the autumnal stage of its life. His- toria fabulada offers a
happy end that neither the time nor the wrinkles to us pudi- eron to win. On the contrary, and referring me to another happy episode that after a life of successes, succumbed before the adversity. I dare to say that of behind each history there are elements difficult to involve: The young lady Woolf, who being it had everything, with a singular way to write love poetries, to the finest prosaic style, it obtained the fame hoped, marrying with the man of its life, obtaining therefore matrimoni- or perfect of two people who compartian the same interests, terminari- to committing
suicide in the real life, as it happened to the personages who I create throughout his expanded race in the letters. The key of the suicide can be glimpsed in these brief words escri- anvil in its newspaper: “My brain is most irresponsible of the machines, overflows will tare I walk…, and soon buried in the mud ". Jose Contreras. It will continue…