por Ren\u00e9 Rodr\u00edguez Soriano<\/p>\n\n\n\n
:::\u00a0A los poemas de Ren\u00e9 Rodr\u00edguez Soriano publicados anteriormente en esta revista a\u00f1adimos uno de sus muchos cuentos<\/em> con una traducci\u00f3n al ingl\u00e9s por Rebecca Bowman.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n T<\/strong>oda esa gente que ha logrado aglomerarse ah\u00ed abajo a mirarme mientras escribo aqu\u00ed tranquilo, debe estar plenamente convencida de mi locura. Nadie en su sano juicio, pensar\u00e1n, correr\u00eda el riesgo de subirse a la m\u00e1s alta de las vigas de un puente tan peligroso y concurrido como \u00e9ste y, precisamente, en el atardecer, cuando todos los empleados, p\u00fablicos y privados, comienzan a regresar a sus hogares y los tres puentes que unen las partes oriental y occidental de la ciudad son un hervidero humano de incontables dimensiones. Estoy seguro de que dentro del gent\u00edo ya alguien ha logrado reconocerme y que muchos estar\u00e1n hablando sobre m\u00ed y de las tantas y tantas haza\u00f1as que a lo largo de m\u00e1s de veinte a\u00f1os de ejercicio profesional he protagonizado o, en las que, por lo menos, he tenido una destacada participaci\u00f3n. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Pienso que la pregunta obligada ser\u00e1 por qu\u00e9 estoy aqu\u00ed, tan quitado de bulla escribiendo, habiendo tantos lugares tranquilos y apartados, como los parques Mirador del Este o del Sur o el Bot\u00e1nico mismo. Otros, llegar\u00e1n a la conclusi\u00f3n de que son puras excentricidades m\u00edas. Ya me parece o\u00edr la afirmaci\u00f3n de uno que otro, hablando despectivamente y tild\u00e1ndome de intelectual inadaptado, de drogadicto y no se sabe cu\u00e1ntas cosas m\u00e1s que, a fin de cuentas, nada tienen que ver con los motivos por los cuales llegu\u00e9 hasta este punto y me propuse dejar para la posteridad el que podr\u00eda considerarse mi m\u00e1s trascendental e impactante reportaje.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Soy Jos\u00e9 Valent\u00edn, padre de tres botoncitos en flor que han llenado mi vida de canciones y motivos para vivir. Hace alrededor de veinticinco a\u00f1os me inici\u00e9 en el periodismo, teniendo una destacada participaci\u00f3n durante la guerra del sesenta y cinco y luego, en los a\u00f1os duros del balaguerato, cuando me convert\u00ed en el hombre clave, deseado por todos los due\u00f1os de noticieros radiales por mi especialidad de oler las noticias; saber, como un sabueso, d\u00f3nde estaban los acontecimientos m\u00e1s espectaculares y brutales y, con la misma brutalidad, transmitirlos a los radioyentes \u00e1vidos de informaciones truculentas y sangrientas. Despu\u00e9s, cuando las cosas fueron mejorando y los ajusticiamientos pol\u00edticos \u2014tanto los dirigidos por el oficialismo, como los generados dentro de los movimientos revolucionarios\u2014 fueron aminorando, comenc\u00e9 a especializarme en los cr\u00edmenes pasionales, en los desastres naturales y todo ese mundo de desecho y desolaci\u00f3n que puebla la paup\u00e9rrima marginalidad de esta ciudad que ha crecido vertiginosamente, llen\u00e1ndose de criminalidad, vagancia e inmundicias sin que las autoridades puedan establecer control alguno. Trabaj\u00e9 en uno de los canales de televisi\u00f3n de la ciudad y mis reportajes pasaron a ser ansiosamente esperados por un gran n\u00famero de televidentes, que se regodeaban en la sa\u00f1a que yo pon\u00eda en transmitir toda esa basura que pululaba en una ciudad que se preciaba de estar montada en los m\u00e1s finos corceles del progreso.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Fue precisamente en este trajinar de cosas que vine a convertirme en confidente policial y ayud\u00e9, infinidad de veces, a la instituci\u00f3n armada a controlar grupos de delincuentes que operaban en barrios marginados cometiendo toda clase de desmanes. Pero, lleg\u00f3 un momento en que ya esta actividad no satisfac\u00eda mis necesidades de obtener informaciones espectaculares de primera mano y pas\u00e9 a ser lo que el cine se ha encargado de poner en moda: me convert\u00ed en algo as\u00ed como un doble agente y empec\u00e9 a trabajar con bandas de traficantes de drogas, organizadores de viajes ilegales y los m\u00e1s variopintos personajes, entre los que podr\u00edan destacarse asaltantes y atracadores de los que act\u00faan amparados en las sombras y el misterio. \u00c9stas, y no otras conexiones, me sirvieron para obtener informaciones tan importantes que hicieron que todos los due\u00f1os y manejadores de los m\u00e1s destacados medios de comunicaci\u00f3n del pa\u00eds anduvieran siempre tras mis servicios, para llegar, la mayor\u00eda de las veces, a las ra\u00edces y causas de grandes tragedias como las que, en los \u00faltimos a\u00f1os, han consternado a la opini\u00f3n p\u00fablica nacional.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dado el hecho de que, al haberme convertido en una persona altamente conocida, ya no me era t\u00e1ctico aparecer p\u00fablicamente en los medios informativos, inici\u00e9 una nueva etapa en mi vida. Me convert\u00ed en colaborador, muy bien pagado, por cierto, en varios peri\u00f3dicos, utilizando para ello diferentes seud\u00f3nimos (llegando, incluso, a generar algunos de los m\u00e1s sonados debates del periodismo local, en muchos de los cuales cayeron, sin darse cuenta, destacadas figuras de la pol\u00edtica y el mundo intelectual).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Desde esta altura puedo ver que ya la aglomeraci\u00f3n de gentes y autom\u00f3viles pasa, por una parte, de la Venezuela y por la otra, de la Josefa Brea. S\u00e9 que no tardar\u00e1n en llegar la polic\u00eda y los bomberos. Tambi\u00e9n s\u00e9 que muchos de los que est\u00e1n ah\u00ed abajo mirando, que ya han logrado identificarme, se habr\u00e1n encargado de regar la voz y decir de m\u00ed cuantas cosas les han venido en mente. S\u00e9 que soy un mercenario, nunca lo he negado, y mucho menos pretendo justificarme. Poco me importa, todo lo que hice fue a conciencia y me siento conforme con lo que me ha tocado; no me arrepiento de mis actuaciones pasadas ni me importa lo que puedan decir de m\u00ed ma\u00f1ana. Siempre tuve como lo m\u00e1s importante a mi familia: mi mujer y mis tres ni\u00f1as. Todo cuanto he hecho y lo que estoy haciendo en este momento, es precisamente por ellas, quienes, hasta hoy, hab\u00edan logrado mantenerse ajenas a todo lo concerniente a mis actuaciones y mis labores en esta sociedad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No me ha sido f\u00e1cil mantener esta doble personalidad frente a Luisa y las ni\u00f1as. Principalmente Luisa que ha estado junto a m\u00ed desde los d\u00edas dif\u00edciles de la universidad, cuando estuve \u00edntimamente ligado a la lucha por el Medio Mill\u00f3n. Ella vivi\u00f3 conmigo los m\u00e1s crudos momentos de las movilizaciones callejeras y de las quemas de neum\u00e1ticos y de veh\u00edculos privados y oficiales, viviendo las malas y, en estos \u00faltimos quince a\u00f1os, pudo cosechar la bonanza de vivir en una buena residencia, en un lugar retirado de la ciudad con todas las comodidades que mis m\u00faltiples actividades me han prodigado. Pienso ahora que, en el fondo, a ella no la enga\u00f1aba del todo, pero, las ni\u00f1as estaban convencidas de que eran hijas de un hombre serio y trabajador que se desviv\u00eda por brindarles siempre lo mejor. De hecho, tuvieron acceso a los mejores colegios, placenteros viajes por Europa, Estados Unidos y Venezuela. Principalmente Luchy, la mayor, recientemente regres\u00f3 de unas gratificantes vacaciones por Canad\u00e1 y todo el norte de Ohio. Y Arelis, la artista de la familia, tiene su cuarto lleno de trofeos y diplomas, fruto de sus avances en la ejecuci\u00f3n del piano, instrumento que comenz\u00f3 a dominar a muy temprana edad. Lo de Mahit\u00e9 es otra cosa. Esa carajita, pura dinamita. Nidal al fin, cinco a\u00f1itos sencillamente explosivos. La nota detonante para hacer de mi vida una verdadera maravilla, aun en los peores momentos vividos en estos \u00faltimos a\u00f1os. Sinceramente, no me puedo quejar. Pocos hombres han tenido la oportunidad de levantar una familia tan hermosa y ejemplar como la m\u00eda…<\/p>\n\n\n\n Escasea la luz. Ha comenzado a ocultarse el sol en el horizonte. Se me confunden las sirenas de los bomberos y de la polic\u00eda. El mar de gente comienza a desbordarse y, en los edificios vecinos, ya no caben los curiosos y colegas periodistas; me imagino que varios han logrado extraordinarios \u00e1ngulos de mi parsimoniosa posici\u00f3n encima de esta uni\u00f3n del centro del puente. Creo que ni las aves de rapi\u00f1a se aventurar\u00edan a trepar a estas alturas. Hace un rato intimid\u00e9 a varios voluntarios que intentaron acerc\u00e1rseme, subiendo por esa viga que queda a mi derecha; supongo que habr\u00e1n alertado a otros curiosos que optaron por continuar como simples espectadores, esperando el desenlace de esta odisea, que ya debe tener conturbada a media ciudad y otras partes del pa\u00eds y el mundo. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Todos, en su interior, estar\u00e1n maquinando, d\u00e1ndoles vueltas a sus cabezas, tratando de encontrar la cordura de mi locura. Ninguno creer\u00e1, hasta que pueda tener acceso a estas notas, que estoy en pleno uso de mis facultades mentales. Sin embargo, estoy en mis cabales. No he tomado un trago ni estoy bajo los efectos de sustancia alguna. Sub\u00ed hasta aqu\u00ed con la firme convicci\u00f3n de realizar mi \u00faltimo acto sensacional. No era justo que uno solo de esos mercaderes de la comunicaci\u00f3n, los que siempre se han disputado la exclusividad de mis detonantes hallazgos, se quedara con esta primicia, la m\u00e1s espectacular de mi carrera. Estoy consciente de que act\u00fao con equidad, todos han tenido que valerse de sus propios recursos para obtenerla, sin que para ello intervinieran mis oficios, no creo que falte nadie, todos est\u00e1n presentes, todos est\u00e1n informados y, en breve, tendr\u00e1n la respuesta contundente de por qu\u00e9, hace un rato, sub\u00ed tranquilamente hasta aqu\u00ed y caus\u00e9 este may\u00fasculo revuelo, el \u00faltimo de mi agitada vida que ya no tiene raz\u00f3n de ser, desde el instante en que llegu\u00e9 a la casa y encontr\u00e9 a Luisa y a las ni\u00f1as, todas llorosas, esper\u00e1ndome para acosarme a preguntas sobre mi pasado y mi presente y, sin inmutarme, las invit\u00e9 a pasar a mi cuarto-estudio, las encerr\u00e9 y les ped\u00ed que se calmaran y esperaran all\u00ed. Sal\u00ed con toda mi calma, roci\u00e9 gasolina por toda la casa y le pegu\u00e9 fuego.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2248<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Jos\u00e9 Valent\u00edn\u00b4s Most Sensational Article<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n A<\/strong>ll those people who ended up gathered down there below to stare up at me while I am quietly writing up here must be fully convinced that I\u2019m crazy. No one in his right mind, they\u2019d think, would run the risk of climbing up to the tallest of the beams of a bridge as busy and dangerous as this one, and precisely at this twilight hour when all the private and public employees are beginning to return home and the three bridges that join the east and west parts of the city are a throng of humanity of immeasurable dimensions. I am sure that among that crowd someone has already recognized me and that many people are talking about me and the many, many feats that throughout the twenty years of my professional life I\u2019ve been the star of or in which I\u2019ve at least played a significant part.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I think that the obligatory question is why am I here, so calm amidst the noise, writing, when there are so many other peaceful, isolated places, like the East Overlook Park or the one on the South or even the Botanical Garden. Others will come to the conclusion that this is just another one of my eccentricities. I can almost hear what one or another is saying, trash-talking me, labeling me a maladapted intellectual, a drug addict and who knows what other things that, finally, have nothing to do with the reasons why I arrived at this point deciding to leave for posterity what could be considered my most transcendental and impactful newspaper article.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I am Jos\u00e9 Valent\u00edn, the father of three little flowering buds that have filled my life with songs and reasons for living. I started out in journalism about twenty-five years ago, with a notable role during the War of 75 and later, in the hard years of the Balaguer period, when I became a key man, sought out by all the owners of radio news programs for my great ability to sniff out the news, knowing how to do this like a hound, finding out where all the most spectacular and brutal events took place, and, with the same brutality, how to transmit them to a radio audience avid for truculent and bloody information. Afterwards, when things were getting better and the political executions \u2013 those directed by officialism as well as those generated within the revolutionary movements — were decreasing, I began to specialize in covering crimes of passion, natural disasters and all that world of waste and desolation that fills up the poorest outskirts of this city which has grown so dizzily, filling itself with criminals, vagrants and filth without the authorities being able to establish any sort of control. I worked for the city\u2019s television channels and my reports began to be anxiously anticipated by a large number of television viewers, that delighted themselves in the viciousness with which I would transmit all that trash that teemed in a city that prided itself on riding upon one of the finest steeds of progress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was precisely as I was carrying out this that I began to become a police informant and helped the army an endless number of times to control groups of delinquents that operated in the poor neighborhoods committing all kinds of outrages. But the moment arrived in which this activity no longer satisfied my need for getting sensational, firsthand information and I became what the film industry has decided to put into fashion, I became something like a double agent and began to work for drug trafficking bands, organizers of illegal trips, newspapers, and all sorts of characters, among which one could find those muggers and robbers that depend on shadows and mystery. These, and not other connections helped me obtain the most important information making all the owners and managers of the most well-known communication media of the country always be after my services, in order to get, most times, to the roots and causes of great tragedies like the ones that in the last few years have alarmed national public opinion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Given the fact that, by having become a very well-known person, it was no longer tactical for me to appear publicly in the news media, I began a new stage in my life. I became a collaborator, very well paid, I must admit, for several newspapers, using several pseudonyms (reaching the point, even, of generating some of the loudest debates in local journalism, in which many of the most prominent figures of politics and the intellectual world inadvertently fell).<\/p>\n\n\n\n From this height I can now see the gathering of people and cars passing by. From one side from Venezuela, from the other from the Josefa Brea neighborhood. I know that the police and firemen will soon arrive. I also know that many of the ones below me looking up, those that have been able to identify me, will have taken it upon themselves to spread the word and say about me all the things that come to mind. I know I am a mercenary, I\u2019ve never denied it, and much less tried to justify myself. I couldn\u2019t care less, everything I did I did conscientiously, and I feel fine with what I\u2019ve gotten, I do not feel bad about my past actions and don\u2019t care what they might say about my future. I always considered my family the most important thing, my wife and my three girls. Everything I\u2019ve done and am doing at this moment is precisely for them, who, until now, had always been able to keep themselves separate from everything concerning my actions and my work in this society.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It has not been easy to keep up this double life in front of Luisa and the girls. Mainly with Luisa who has been with me since those difficult days in the university, when I was intimately linked to the struggle for the Half Million. She lived with me in the crudest moments of the street movements and the burnings of tires and of private and official vehicles, living through the bad times, and, in these last fifteen years, she could reap the bonanza of living in a good home, in a place far away from the city with all the comforts that my many activities have provided me. Now I think that in reality she wasn\u2019t completely fooled, but the girls were convinced that they were the daughters of a serious, hardworking man that broke his back to always give them the best. In fact, they had access to the best schools, to pleasure trips to Europe, the United States and Venezuela. For instance, Luchy, the eldest, just got back from a great trip to Canada and Niagara Falls. And Arelis, the artist of the family, has her room full of trophies and diplomas, the result of her progress in piano, an instrument she began to master at an early age. Mahit\u00e9, well, that\u2019s another matter. That little devil, she\u2019s pure dynamite. After all, the baby of the family, five years that were simply explosive. The detonating factor that made my life a true marvel, even in the worst moments lived in these last years. Sincerely, I can\u2019t complain. Few men have had the opportunity to raise a family as beautiful, as exemplary as mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The light is going. The sun has begun to set on the horizon. The sirens of the police and the firetrucks have begun to mix. The sea of people starts to spill over, and the neighboring buildings are stuffed with curious onlookers and my journalist colleagues; I imagine they\u00b4ve found extraordinary angles of my thoughtful pose here on top of the juncture at the center of the bridge. I don\u2019t think even birds of prey would dare to climb to these heights. A little while ago I scared off several volunteers that tried to approach me, climbing up that transom on my right, I suppose they\u00b4ll have alerted other onlookers who\u00b4ve decided to remain simple spectators, waiting for the outcome of this odyssey, that must have upset half the city and other regions of the country and the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everyone deep inside must be thinking and thinking, going out of their heads, trying to find the reason in my insanity. No one would believe, until they can have access to these notes, that I am in full use of my mental faculties. Even so, I am completely sane. I haven\u00b4t had a single drink and I\u00b4m not under the influence of any substance. I climbed up here with the firm conviction of making my last act sensational. It wouldn\u00b4t be fair if a single one of those merchants of the media, those that have always disputed the exclusivity of my stunning discoveries, would get this last scoop, the most spectacular one of my career. I am conscious that I am acting with fairness, all of them have had to use their own resources to obtain it, without my skills intervening in any way, I don\u2019t think anyone\u00b4s missing, everyone\u00b4s here, all are informed and very soon they\u00b4ll have the entire answer as to why, a little while ago, I calmly climbed up here and caused a major stir, the last one of my troubled life that no longer has a reason for existing, since the instant when I arrive home and found Luisa and all the girls crying, waiting for me to harass me with questions about my past and my present and, without showing any emotion, I had them come into my study, locked them in and asked them to calm down and wait there. I left in complete composure, sprinkled gasoline all over the house and lit it on fire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" por Ren\u00e9 Rodr\u00edguez Soriano :::\u00a0A los poemas de Ren\u00e9 Rodr\u00edguez Soriano publicados anteriormente en esta revista a\u00f1adimos uno de sus muchos cuentos con…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":21269,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[154,209,215],"tags":[234,331,221,387],"coauthors":[312],"class_list":["post-21258","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-cuento","category-revista","category-traduccion","tag-cuento","tag-cultura","tag-literatura","tag-literatura-dominicana-contemporanea"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/copilot_image_1765163504280-e1765163967399.png","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21258","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21258"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21258\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21274,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21258\/revisions\/21274"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21269"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21258"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21258"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21258"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/letrasenlafrontera.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=21258"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}