Havana Fever

A Comment and Thanks

Havana Fever is a story that ambushed, shoved and pushed me into writing it. I hadn’t planned to return to the character of Mario Conde so quickly, but the months I spent working hard to transform him into the protagonist of four possible films – that some day will be shot, God and finance willing – forced me to rescue him and write this novel, the central theme of which – the search for a forgotten singer of boleros from the fifties – had been buzzing in my head for some time. And as I know no one so stubborn or fit to embark on such a hunt, I decided to give the story over to the Count, that great lover of ghosts from the past.

In creating this book, as always, I’ve had to call on the knowledge and experience of several individuals. I would like to express my gratitude to Daniel Flores the book-seller for his indispensable help: he introduced me to the mysteries and tricks of his trade, guided me on the issue of the pricing of the rarest and most valuable books in Cuba’s bibliography and even prepared an “ideal” library for me, with the books that in his informed opinion had to be there. I was also helped in my research by the kind Naty Revueltas who even lent me some treasures from her own library; my essential friend, Marta Armenteros, from the National Library; the efficient and rigorous Olga Vega, head of the Section of Rare and Valuable Books at the José Martí National Library who after many requests allowed me to view and caress the most precious jewels in the treasure under her stewardship; and Dr Carlos Suárez, who introduced me to the world of narcotics and poisons, and their uses and effects.

As always, the advice of my most loyal, self-sacrificing readers was decisive, as they struggled with different versions of the manuscript, above all the absolutely key Vivian Lechuga and kind Álex Fleites, Elena Zayas, Dalia Acosta, Helena Núñez, José María Rodríguez Coso and Lourdes Gómez. My particular gratitude, as always, to Beatriz de Moura, for her confidence and insightful reading. And my apologies, because she had to put up with readings, depressions and doubts, to my loving wife (although I much prefer to say: to my loving woman) Lucía López Coll, my first reader, for whom I always write, with love and squalor.