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A generation caught between two fires, does anyone know what we are, we men born at the same time as the century?
A generation that has not completely detached itself from the outdated romanticism of the 1900s, and that has not been able to fully assimilate the indifferent-sporting spirit of the post-war period, do any of us know what we are, what we believe or what we desire?

A middle term; a shock troop; a bridge between the age of the heart and the age of the muscle; a hyphen that separates the age of the imaginative (Edison) and the age of mechanics (Ford); a transitional generation, in short, those who belong to it live crushed between the past and the present, as incomprehensible to one as to the other, without that past being our past or this present being our present, alien to both.

We are not old, because we are thirty years old. But... we are not young either. With black hair - and even a little wavy, for goodness' sake, we have to say everything - with a smooth forehead, well-toned muscles and excellently tempered nerves... one is no longer young. And looking around, at the past and present youth, one clearly sees that neither do we feel and think like them, nor do we feel and think like these.

In matters of religion, past generations made God an indispensable character.
Present-day youth hardly remember God at all.
And one occasionally remembers Him.

In politics, past generations threw themselves fervently into the struggle for liberty.
Today's youth rush to fight for equality and fraternity.
And one—always mindful of the spectacle of the Universe—upon hearing talk of equality, liberty, and fraternity, vomits.

Patriotically, those departed youths possessed a blind enthusiasm that pushed them into horrible wars, crying "Forward to victory!"
Today's youth, with the other blindness of universal solidarity, do not want to fight and proclaim, "Wars must be abolished, they are a useless brutality."
And one—neither warrior nor pacifist—thinks, with the certainty of being the only one who is right: "Wars are a law, like gravity or the attraction of masses, and there will always be wars, as long as the World is the World."

In love, those past generations created romanticism and committed suicide with a pistol shot before the daguerreotype of any woman, considered pure and exceptional.
Present-day youth replace romanticism with sports and are indifferent.
And one thinks that committing suicide for a woman is not wrong when that woman is worth it; but one lets life pass without discovering among the women one knows the woman for whom it would be worth committing suicide.

Faced with marriage, past generations adopted an attitude of submission and married out of love.
Present-day youth also marry, but without knowing very well if they are in love or not.
And one always recoils from marriage, like a horse that sees a snake across its path.

And in matters of divinity...
In matters of divinity, past generations had faith and believed.
Present-day youth have neither faith nor belief.
And one believes... and has no faith.

Faith is lacking, yes.
But perhaps faith isn't absolutely necessary to believe.

Having faith is like chewing without teeth..

And who has said that teeth are indispensable for chewing? Aren't there masticating machines?
One can believe without faith.
One can believe without faith and yet carry within, rooted, lethal, innate, and unshakeable, the sense of the religious.

To feel, at times, sad or helpless or melancholy is religiosity.

To laugh without joy is religiosity.

To excuse the stupidity of others; to endure the company of insufferable people; to shrug one's shoulders at the outrageous is religiosity.

To drive on a highway without a spare tire, and to endure three punctures, and to throw oneself to the ground again and again to patch the punctured tubes, and to do all this without uttering blasphemies is religiosity.

To consider selfishness as one of the faculties of the soul—MEMORY, UNDERSTANDING, SELFISHNESS, AND WILL—is religiosity.

To love children and dogs for the mere fact of being dogs and being children is religiosity.

To shave daily with resignation is religiosity.

To say ten times a day "My friend," while embracing a despicable biped whom we know slanders us is religiosity.

To wait for a tram from La Prosperidad without overt protests is religiosity.

To smoke Spanish tobacco without thinking of changing brands is religiosity.

To have no money and sympathize with capitalism is also religiosity.

Sometimes, upon leaving a bed after having surrendered ourselves to a woman who swears she loves us, to a delirious pleasure, we feel a desolation, a desire to cry—to cry until we are sick of it—to cry everything we carry inside that is delicate, tender, pure, noble, and that each new love tramples on, debases, and dirties a little more.

But we react, because life is reaction, and we smile and whistle any old tune and when that woman asks:
“Are you happy?”
We reply:
“Of course!”
That too is religiosity.

And one no longer knows what one is. Whether good or bad; intelligent or stupid; atheist or believer; romantic or realist.

Enrique Jardiel Poncela, 1932
"The Return of God"

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