My Father: Mi padre

Like a glazier reconstructing a mirror broken into a hundred shards, Eduardo Moga assembles a portrait of his father, thirty years after his death, from tiny sharp fragments of memory. This is no idealized patriarch but an ordinary man who has lived almost his whole life in the grey, grey hardscrabble years of the Franco dictatorship when it was 'as if everybody's feet smelt'. He is seen with a forensic clarity through now a child's, now an adult's eyes and across the gulf that education, r...