He had three clogged arteries (between 70% and 90%), and a heart attack would be the next page of his biography. That Tuesday night, November 29, 2011, took stock of his life, as he turned from side to side on the bed he shares with the artist Christina Oiticica.

"I have been with the woman I love for 32 years. I am successful in a profession where very few win. I committed all the crazy acts involving sex, drugs and black magic. I stopped everything. I traveled the world. It was a good life. I am going happy."

The next morning, the writer had two "stents" (metal frames that expand the blood vessel) installed in the arteries; the third was just cleared. "In two days you can play golf," the doctor congratulated him. But that is not where the miracle is.

	Emiliano Capozoli/Folhapress

In September of last year, his literary agent of 22 years, Monica Antunes lost her father to a heart attack. Therefore, she insisted that he schedule a treadmill stress test. He said he never would. But two months later, he went to the dermatologist in Geneva to check a small problem on the skin of his hands and mentioned it. By chance, a renowned cardiologist had his office next door. He knocked on the door and did a stress test on the same day. The obstructions in the arteries were found, and surgery was performed 40 hours later.

To an atheist, an agnostic or a nihilist, the paragraph above is just a series of unconnected events, a massive coincidence, sheer luck. And therein lies the essence of Paulo Coelho: "I believe." Period.

SILVER WEDDING PLATES

Paulo Coelho lives this way: taking these signs seriously, as if they were put in his way. Thus the talk of a taxi driver takes on, in his ears, the voice of an angel who came to give a hint: "Today is not a good day to walk around." The trip over the dry moat of a French chateau for sale means, for him, a divine counsel: "Do not buy the property, even with this beautiful drawbridge." And to undergo a stress test that saved his life, when it was so necessary and he would never have thought of doing it, well, that's a "miracle."

"God didn't not want me to go at that moment." Simple as that. And then, to the dismay of his critics, he turned on the computer (PC), and between late January and early February, he wrote a new book in just one week. As yet unnamed, it is the 21st book of his literary career, begun in 1987 with "O Diário de um Mago" (The Pilgrimage) - which now celebrates 25 years. It is because of this anniversary that he welcomed Serafina into his Swiss apartment.

Paulo Coelho, living according to these celestial tips, can give the impression of being a simple man or even an ignorant one. But that is not the case. He speaks four languages (Portuguese, Spanish, French and English), is winner of dozens of literary awards, is an elected member of the Brazilian Academy of Letters since 2002, is a Knight of the Legion of Honor of France, and not least, former partner of Raul Seixas!

Nor is he alienated: he spends afternoons reading about international politics on the Internet and walks around clutching the book "The Operators: The Wild and Terrifying Inside Story of America's War in Afghanistan" (not published in Brazil).

Written by Michael Hastings, the report toppled the leader of the U.S. military forces in Afghanistan, Gen. Stanley McChrystal, describing his daily arrogance and his criticism of the government.

The truth is that, following this esoteric path, Paulo Coelho became the greatest Brazilian writer of all time. Not the best, but the greatest: the best-selling books (140 million until last October), the most famous (released in 160 countries), the most translated (73 languages ), the most celebrated (he has 10.5 million followers on Facebook and Twitter).

"Except, of course, for the Brazilian critic," he says, in front of a portrait of him and his wife, painted by the also highly criticized Romero Britto. "I survived the criticism, but it didn't survive me. We are in a unique period, which few realize. Like during the Renaissance, a technological innovation is changing everything. Then, there was Gutenberg's movable type which allowed ideas to travel. Now it is the internet, and the formats have to adapt to it. Today, a book is judged by readers on the websites of bookstores, for example. The professional critics have lost their relevance."

IN THE CLOUDS

A millionaire for about 15 years, the writer bought his own airplane just six years ago, an eight seat Cessna, to attend the publication of his books, which happen around the world. An addicted smoker, although light (six cigarettes a day), the first thing I wondered was whether one could smoke inside. "Well, the plane is yours. You can do whatever you want," he says.

And he does many things he wants to, like practicing archery on the terrace of his Geneva apartment, despite the complaints of the manager. And he does not do anything he doesn't want to, like lunch (he only eats breakfast and dinner) or making wind / rain at the request of Serafina. "I can, but do not want to," he says. "I can achieve things more impressive than these, but I will not tell. If I talk, they will only ask me that from now on."

He says that 25 years ago it was important to disclose such feats of magic because this "helped to show that there was a writer there, unknown." He no longer needs this. "Wind is not a supernatural power, it is mental education. We are so blocked by the need for answers, but the world is not there to respond. Magic is the bridge between the visible and invisible, but you must dare to cross it."

Ritual magic, mental powers, esoteric sensitivity, all this makes people confuse the wanderer with a kind of saint. Not in the religious sense, but as a superior man who turns the other cheek when attacked. "I do not know where they got this," he complains. "I'm not a saint nor am I humble." He's a normal guy, maybe even a bit vindictive, it can be said.

A recent story illustrates this. 25 years ago, Paulo Coelho began his literary career, and for 25 years, has kept everything that was written by and about him.

First there were yellowed newspaper clippings, then dusty microfilm, and afterwards everything was digitized. "Now we are in the cloud," he says. Being in the cloud means that all this material is a central computer which can be accessed from anywhere in the world.

There are 40 gigabytes of texts, interviews on TV, and especially critiques of his books. "I think the person should be responsible for what he says or writes. So when someone asks me a favor, I ask for a search. Recently, a writer wanted my vote so he could be elected at the Brazilian Academy of Letters. I found in cloud that he had spoken ill of me 20 years ago, in a small newspaper. I said I wouldn't vote on his behalf. "

The moral of the story, dictated by the greatest Brazilian writer of all time, Paulo Coelho himself: "Love your enemy. But keep your blacklist up to date."

IVAN FINOTTI FROM GENEVA - Translated by DAVE WOLIN

Forrás: Folha de Săo Paulo