Federico García Lorca’s 98 happiest and most unknown days in the Golden Cuba of 1930. But it took more than three months until the Andalusian poet decided to return to Spain, drunk from Caribbean music and beauty, soneros and santeros, terraces and palm trees, white rum, black sensuality and nights of Malecón.
What did the poet do in “the happiest days of my life”, as he defined his Cuban days? How did Cuba stain Federico’s work, person and fate? “If I lose myself — he warned his parents by letter — search for me in Cuba.” And he lost. To find himself? This novel explains it.