A Simple Story, Leila Guerriero

In January 2011, Argentine journalist Leila Guerriero traveled to a town of six thousand inhabitants in the interior of her country, with the intention of telling the story of a folk dance competition as secret as it was prestigious, held there since 1966: the National Malambo Festival of Laborde. Malambo, a traditional dance among Argentine gauchos, consists of sustained foot-tapping that, for its execution in competition, requires great technical skill and extraordinary athletic preparation: during the five minutes a performance lasts, the dancer reaches a speed that demands an exertion similar to that of a hundred-meter sprinter. The festival ends each year with the crowning of a man who, in the world of folklore, has the aura of an Olympic hero and is awarded the title of champion. To safeguard the prestige of the competition, the champions have made a pact: once they win, they can no longer compete in another competition. Thus, the malambo with which they are crowned is also the last of their lives. Guerriero arrived in Laborde with a simple idea: to understand why these men, children of humble families, invest time and money training for years to obtain a title that is, at the same time, the pinnacle and the end. But on the second night of the competition, she saw a dancer on stage who left her paralyzed, and at that precise moment, she decided that the story would no longer be just the story of the festival but also that of that man: Rodolfo González Alcántara.

Thus, she began to follow him, first in Laborde, then in Buenos Aires, this son of a modest family who survived by giving music lessons, and in January 2012, when he returned to Laborde, Guerriero accompanied him. The result is this chronicle full of suspense, packed with endearing characters like Tonchi, González Alcántara's childhood friend, who, despite having a severe health problem, travels to Laborde to see him dance; or his own parents, who, since they don't have money to pay for lodging, rent a bus where they live and sleep during the days of the festival. As the night of the competition approaches, González Alcántara takes on the dimensions of a tragic gladiator, a man preparing for a moment of immense solitude in which he knows he can win or lose everything. And Leila Guerriero, from a distance as intimate as it is implacable, as profound as it is stark, as discreet as it is intrusive, accompanies him on that journey to the final night. This book tells the most difficult of epics: the epic of the common man. That of someone who advances towards a dream moved by the most dangerous of feelings: hope.