A good co-librettist

Julio Vivián, producer and radio presenter, Uruguay

February 28, 2002

Tags: Joy, Apostolate, Holy Purity, Unity of life, Consistency “Everything goes”. That was the idea I had when I was fourteen and began working in the media. I’d seen the media as my vocation ever since I was very young. I’d found it quite hard to get into the media world, and so I was prepared to go to any lengths not to disappear from it again.
It was Isidro Cristiá – of “Double or Quits” fame – who opened the door to me, and I never left him till he died. Later came my turn to write comedy scripts, present radio programmes, produce and direct radio plays, and manage a radio channel.

To warn me when I was about to make a mess of something Cristiá always used to start off with “Careful!” “Careful what you say on air.” “Careful with what you’re writing.” “Be careful not to take the easy way.” When I was nineteen I met Opus Dei, and when I was twenty I asked to be admitted in it. And then the person who began to say “Careful!” to me was Msgr. Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer. Don’t start imagining I had any visions or mystical experiences – far from it. But over these past eighteen years he has been the one who has helped me along. He certainly hasn’t had an easy job! And to explain why not, I need to go back to the beginning.
“Everything goes.” I had to please the comedians I was writing for, and the easiest way of doing that was to go in for dirty jokes.

“Everything goes.” I had to get big audiences. And the easiest way of doing that was to go for subjects and guests that were guaranteed crowd-pullers, even though the things they said would make some people blush. Anyway, I had the perfect excuse. “Come on, we’re adults here. We know what’s what.” Until one day I came across a phrase of Saint Josemaria’s about what dirties a child, dirties an adult too. I thought that one over, but without coming to any definite conclusions.

And then I read something about what the Founder of Opus Dei called the apostolate of entertainment. That was when I made the effort to change. I improved the content of what I was producing. Authors of radio plays don’t always need to detail their characters’ love-lives, and shows don’t always need to have guests who are going to shock people.

I was encouraged to find that it wasn’t so difficult, and the response was not long in coming. Listeners began to phone in to congratulate us on the change. The gist of all their comments was, “Good news at last,” or “At last, a bit of real life on a show.”

I’m not exaggerating if I say that I’m currently writing several kilometers of paper every week. And it’s a real struggle not to give in to the cheap and easy argument. But as I have a co-librettist, it’s also true to say that the kilometers have been very easy to travel. If ever I don’t know which direction to take, I just read a little of Saint Josemaria’s writings and the ideas start to flow. I’m not kidding. They are my inspiration for radio programmes, sketches and all kinds of shows. I say this in all sincerity. What I write is whiter than the paper it’s written on, and the audiences are grateful for it. They phone, they write letters – I’ve got several files full of them – , they stop me in the street. I’ve even had an international award for radio plays, a genre that’s still alive and kicking in Uruguay and the rest of the world.

I don’t know whether you think much about the Last Judgement and everlasting happiness. I do, a lot. And combining the happiness of the world to come with that of this world is something I’ve had great fun with, and it’s been quite simple to do. It’s all a question of inspiration. Or at least of finding a good co-librettist.