Viewed from without, I seem to impress some as a crass, crabbed person,
who has very little ability, while others regard me as an unhealthy,
decadent writer. Then Azorín has said of me that I am a literary
aristocrat, a fine and comprehensive mind.
I should accept Azorín's opinion very gladly, but personality needs to
be hammered severely in literature before it leaves its slag. Like metal
which is removed from the furnace after casting and placed under the
hammer, I would offer my works to be put to the test, to be beaten by
all hammers.
If anything were left, I should treasure it then lovingly; if nothing
were left, we should still pick up some fragments of life.
I always listen to the opinions of the non-literary concerning my books
with the greatest interest. My cousin, Justo Goñi, used to express his
opinion without circumlocution. He always carried off my books as they
appeared, and then, a long time after, would give his opinion.
Of _The Way of Perfection_ he said:
"Good, yes, very good; but it is so tiresome."