TO Unamuno He liked to travel slowly. On slow trains, on the back of a mule or, much better, on foot. He liked to feel the country under the sole of the shoe and believed that walking was a form of patriotism. He despised cosmopolitan and mundane travelers, car-bed and hotel foodies with bellboys, and boasted of sleeping in haystacks or satin and throwing away any food offered by a villager, without fuss and dipping bread.
That is why it is so difficult for me to see Unamuno aboard an interstellar ship, which is the last place where it has been sighted. The curvature speed of Star trek it would seem like a zafia way of traveling. Being able to travel the universe through secondary roads, stopping on each planet to dine at the inn and climb at dawn to the cliffs of any picturesque asteroid, I would not understand what the rush was coming from.
In the third chapter of the sensational Picard (which has some of us trekkies in a state of excitement as unworthy as it is joyful) we have met Captain Ríos, a good tiarrón planting that goes to his air, reneged on any authority other than his own, a kind of anarchist heir to Captain Nemo. Elder Picard, who asks for your help, surprises him by reading a paper book: The tragic sense of lifeby Miguel de Unamuno.
It is not a free reference. Nothing Star trek it is. His reading indicates that Ríos is a troubled and intellectual man who does not know how to resolve the contradiction in him between his rational self and his religious self. But I, regardless of the characterization of the character, I love that Unamuno resurrected in the XXIV century to do what he liked the most: go hiking. The Romulans do not know what awaits them with Don Miguel.