La Obra / The Work

Marina tiene un papel asignado desde la Eternidad: hacerse santa seg las directrices del Opus Dei y entregarse totalmente a la instituci鏮. Sin embargo, para esta joven no es f塶il compatibilizar el celibato y las estrictas exigencias de su vocaci鏮 divina con los problemas de cualquier otra milenial: la crisis de la adolescencia, la precariedad laboral y una necesidad imperiosa de conseguir el corte de pelo exacto de Meg Ryan.

Nacida en una familia vinculada a la organizaci鏮, la protagonista de La Obra descubre el mundo que la rodea desde una mirada inocente, pero, a medida que crece y se intensifican los choques entre el mundo exterior y sus creencias, su personalidad va disoci嫕dose entre su yo real y su yo Opus, oblig嫕dola a vivir entre dos mundos irreconciliables.

En este relato inici嫢ico de no ficci鏮 narrativa la autora retrata en primera persona c鏔o funciona el Opus Dei desde dentro a trav廥 de episodios cotidianos y muestra con iron燰 la manipulaci鏮, el abuso psicol鏬ico y las consecuencias de su experiencia de veinticinco a隳s inmersa en el ecosistema de este grupo ultracat鏊ico.

La numeraria te anima a que animes a que tus amigas vayan al club y te anima a rezar m嫳, luchar m嫳, esforzarte m嫳 y apuntar tus pecados de ni鎙 en una libreta. (...)

Mi agendita de los diez u once a隳s tiene a Winnie The Pooh con su famoso tarro de miel en la portada. (...) Cuando pap?trae miel de Ahedo del Butr鏮, el pueblo de Burgos donde pasamos los veranos, me relamo como Winnie. Luego, hago el examen de conciencia de la noche sentada en mi cama y anoto que "he tenido gula" porque me he comido tres panes con miel para merendar, en lugar de los dos que hab燰 prometido a Jes. No solo me voy a poner gorda, que no es tan importante (al fin y al cabo, eso ser燰 vanidad), sino que he fallado a Dios en esa peque鎙, tan peque鎙 mortificaci鏮 que podr燰 hacer a mis diez a隳s para colaborar con la redenci鏮.

Las numerarias del club no eran terror璗icas, ni mucho menos. Eran chicas de entre veinte y treinta a隳s, c幨ibes y pizpiretas, que dedicaban sus tardes a hacer planes para nosotras: eran lo que yo aspiraba a ser, eran lo que Dios les hab燰 pedido que fueran, y aunque hab燰n entregado su vida a Dios no se parec燰n a las monjas, sino que su estilo era m嫳 parecido al de Mar燰 Pombo .

ENGLISH DESCRIPTION

A book that breaks the silence. A unique narrative voice that describes the power dynamics of this organization from within and with irony.

Marina has a role assigned to her from Eternity: to become a saint according to the guidelines of Opus Dei and to devote herself totally to the institution. However, it is not easy for this young woman to reconcile celibacy and the strict demands of her divine vocation with the problems of any other millennial: the crisis of adolescence, job insecurity, and an urgent need to get the exact Meg Ryan haircut.

Born into a family linked to the organization, the protagonist of The Work discovers the world around her with an innocent gaze, but as she grows up and the clashes between the outside world and her beliefs intensify, her personality becomes dissociated between her real self and her Opus self, forcing her to live between two irreconcilable worlds.

In this non-fiction coming-of-age story, the author portrays in first person how Opus Dei works from the inside through everyday episodes and ironically shows the manipulation, psychological abuse, and consequences of her twenty-five-year experience immersed in the ecosystem of this ultra-Catholic group.

"The numerary encourages you to encourage your friends to join the club and encourages you to pray more, fight more, try harder, and write down your sins as a child in a notebook...

My little diary from when I was ten or eleven has Winnie the Pooh with his famous honey pot on the cover... When Dad brings honey from Ahedo del Butr鏮, the village in Burgos where we spend our summers, I lick my lips like Winnie. Then, I examine my conscience at night sitting on my bed and write down that 'I have been gluttonous' because I ate three pieces of bread with honey for my snack, instead of the two I had promised Jesus. Not only am I going to get fat, which is not so important (after all, that would be vanity), but I have failed God in that small, very small mortification that I could do at the age of ten to collaborate with redemption. T

he numeraries of the club were not terrifying, far from it. They were girls between twenty and thirty years old, celibate, and lively, who spent their afternoons making plans for us: they were what I aspired to be, they were what God had asked them to be, and although they had given their lives to God, they did not resemble nuns, but rather their style was more like that of Maria Pombo."