I don't go for people who lead full and satisfying lives.
I don't know whether these people are going to find themselves, but as they live their lives they have no choice but to face up to the image others have of them. They're forced to look at themselves in a mirror, and they often manage to glimpse something of themselves.
I vividly remember the stories my grandfather told me about the carnage of the First World War, which people tend to forget was one of the worst massacres in human history.
I've always been drawn to tormented people full of contradictions.
My books are about losers, about people who've lost their way and are engaged in a search.
People with lots of doubts sometimes find life more oppressive and exhausting than others, but they're more energetic - they aren't robots.
Xenophobia manifests itself especially against civilizations and cultures that are weak because they lack economic resources, means of subsistence or land. So nomadic people are the first targets of this kind of aggression.
Literature is my life of course, but from an ontological point of view. From an existential point of view, I like being a teacher.
No, I'm happy to go on living the life I've chosen. I'm a university teacher and I like my job.
We all want to be someone else but without ceasing to be ourselves. I think it's very important to defend this idea in real life too.
Fifty years after half a million gypsies were exterminated in the Second World War - thousands of them in Auschwitz - we're again preparing the mass killing of this minority.
I was born in the Second World War during the Nazi invasion of my country.
I live quietly at home among my family and friends.
The most important basis of any novel is wanting to be someone else, and this means creating a character.
An intellectual is going to have doubts, for example, about a fundamentalist religious doctrine that admits no doubt, about an imposed political system that allows no doubt, about a perfect aesthetic that has no room for doubt.