Fernando Vallejo, the ‘Enfant Terrible’ of Colombian Literature

Colombian writer Fernando Vallejo is one of the most distinctive and controversial voices in the Spanish-speaking world. With a pen that combines the beauty of language with a critical and uncompromising view of society, religion, and humanity, Vallejo has created a body of work that leaves no one indifferent.

Often overshadowed by other literary giants, particularly Gabriel García Márquez, the Medellin-born author shares some parallels with the Colombian Nobel laureate, including years spent living in Mexico. Now in his 80s, Vallejo has forged a long career as an acerbic critic of Colombian society, marked by a deeply pessimistic vision that permeates his work.

Fernando Vallejo, the relentless chronicler of language and life in Colombia

Fernando Vallejo was born in October 1942 in Medellin, a city where his childhood and youth were shaped by religious conservatism and rigid social hierarchies. From an early age, he rejected the Catholic religion that was deeply ingrained in his environment—a stance that would profoundly influence his work.

After graduating from high school, Vallejo studied biology at the National University of Colombia. He later traveled to Italy to study film at the Experimental Center of Cinematography in Rome.

Although his time in film was brief, it influenced his ability to narrate in a visual and precise style, a hallmark of his writing. His scientific training, meanwhile, provided him with an analytical and dispassionate perspective that contrasts with the emotional intensity of his texts.

Medellín is more than Vallejo’s birthplace; it is the epicenter of his literary world. In his novels, the city is depicted as a contradictory space: both cruel and endearing, marked by beauty and decay.

In works such as Our Lady of the Assassins, Medellín is portrayed with brutal realism, exposing the impacts of drug trafficking, violence, and social collapse. At the same time, a sense of melancholy reveals the author’s deep love-hate relationship with his homeland.

Mexico, Fernando Vallejo’s adoptive homeland

In 1971, Fernando Vallejo settled in Mexico, a country he adopted as his home for several decades. In Mexico City he found a space of creative freedom and an intellectual community that welcomed him. It was there that he shaped much of his literary and cinematographic work, including several screenplays for Mexican cinema.

In that country he would meet the love of his life, the set designer David Anton (1924-2017), a person who would be his partner for decades, until the Mexican’s death, shortly after the earthquake that on September 19, 2017 severely affected Mexico City, an episode that is profusely narrated in Vallejo’s book, Rubble (Escombros, in original Spanish).

Despite becoming a Mexican national in 2007, Vallejo never lost his connection to Colombia, especially Medellin, a city that appears recurrently in his literature as a setting full of tension, love and disenchantment.

In 2018, a few months after the death of his partner, Vallejo returned to his native country, in a gesture that surprised many, but reaffirmed his unbreakable bond with his roots.

An unclassifiable work and a unique literary style

Fernando Vallejo’s literature defies categorization. His works blend autobiography, chronicle, essay, and fiction in a style bursting with vitality and rebellion. Among his most notable works is El desbarrancadero (2001), a deeply moving and heartbreaking novel recounting the agony and death of his brother Darío.

The book earned Vallejo the prestigious Rómulo Gallegos Prize in 2003, an award he accepted with his characteristic irony and skepticism.

Another key work is his pentalogy El río del tiempo, a series of autobiographical novels that includes titles such as Los días azules and El fuego secreto. In these, Vallejo delves into themes of childhood, memory, and the relentless passage of time, employing precise and poetic language.

Special mention goes to Our Lady of the Assassins, perhaps his best-known work, which was adapted into a film by Barbet Schroeder in 2000. The novel portrays the relationship between an older man and a young hitman in a Medellin ravaged by violence. It is a fierce critique of the social context and the hypocrisy of institutions.

Vallejo’s style is as unique as his personality. His prose is incisive, laced with sarcasm and dark humor, yet infused with a lyrical beauty reminiscent of the great masters of Spanish-language literature. He embraces provocation, delivering scathing critiques of the Catholic Church, governments, consumer culture, and even his own persona.

Vallejo’s command of the Spanish language is extraordinary. He is a purist, staunchly defending clarity and precision, while also innovating through wordplay and narrative structure. For Vallejo, writing is both an act of rebellion and a declaration of love for language.

Scathing critique of religion and human nature

One of the central themes in Fernando Vallejo’s work and public discourse is his critique of religion, particularly Catholicism. In books such as The Whore of Babylon, the author rigorously dismantles the power structures and dogmas of the Church, exposing what he views as its hypocrisy and legacy of violence.

His critique is not limited to religion. Vallejo is a skeptic of humanity as a whole, reflected in his disenchanted view of progress, politics, and contemporary culture.

Despite his pessimism, Vallejo has not succumbed to total cynicism. His love for animals, particularly dogs, and his commitment to environmental causes reveal a compassionate and deeply humane side.

Vallejo is a polarizing figure, admired by some and detested by others, but undeniably central to contemporary Spanish-language literature. His work, marked by authenticity and courage, demonstrates the power of words to question, move, and transform.

At more than 80 years old, Vallejo remains a fierce critic and a distinctive voice on the literary scene. Since returning to Colombia, he has stayed out of the spotlight, but his influence and work continue to challenge conventions and provoke reflection.

In a world often dominated by conformity and superficiality, Vallejo stands for authenticity and a commitment to truth, however uncomfortable. Above all, he is an observer of his time—nostalgic for the past and a thoughtful analyst who makes him an exceptional storyteller.