A few years ago, I had a creative writing professor who, on the first day of class, solemnly declared, "I won't accept romance or fantasy novels in my course. You can change your project if you come with these ideas." This statement, unbecoming of someone who should be guiding the development of new voices, goes beyond a mere literary preference and encapsulates an old legacy: the idea that there are serious and lesser literatures. It's no coincidence that this disdain tends to fall from the corner of genres traditionally considered feminine: romance, fantasy, and autofiction; while thought, culturally associated with the masculine sphere, has been considered the emblem of serious literature.

From the late 90s to the early 2000s, Spanish television experienced an earthquake called Martian ChroniclesThe program, presented by Xavier Sardà, became one of the greatest exponents of trash television and generated its own universe made up of a bestiary that featured often surreal stories and montages. Among all those cathode creatures, Tamara stood out, a girl who presented herself as a singer and who made the song "The Nightmare Before Christmas" famous. I didn't change, of dubious musical quality. This whole world between fiction and reality is what the miniseries now recovers. Superstar, created by Nacho Vigalondo and available on Netflix since this Friday.