Books and Reading Year News Eva Muñoz

FEBRUARY

01.02.05

A call to read and travel

Travel and adventure books are protagonists of the exhibition ‘Looking at the World’, organised by Círculo de Lectores and RBA, and which can be seen until 27th February at the cultural centre of the Círculo de Lectores Foundation. The exhibition, inaugurated by the Managing Director of Círculo de Lectores, Fernando Carro, and the Managing Director of RBA, Oriol Castanys, is a call to read and travel, to travel and read. It consists of a selection of images from four photographic books related with travel ―Rostros del mundo, Lejana África, El mundo en imágenes and Desiertos― and a section of classical and contemporary titles of this genre. The books, enclosed in showcases like the treasures that they undoubtedly are, seem to establish an ongoing dialogue with the surrounding large scale photographs. As Jacinto Antón writes, “does not the portrait of Russian countrymen featuring Tolstoy’s former coachman powerfully suggest a stage in the mission of Michael Strogoff? Does not the native from Micronesia showing off fish as an ornament recall an image from Stevenson? Could anyone overlook the troubling close up of the African warrior with bloodshot eyes as a reference to Conrad?” “The history of mankind could not be understood without travel, without this compulsion that makes us go further,” stated the journalist and traveller Xavier Moret in the presentation of the exhibition. “If we look back in history, we find Ulysses and Marco Polo ―one fictional character and another real―, two great examples of literature based on travel.” A Books and Reading Year that commemorates the 400 years of the publication of Don Quixote, “a major road movie that illustrates with humour and great style the misadventures and adventures of a traveller when following new paths,” could not be complete without an exhibition devoted to travel, “an exhibition where, through the lure of beautiful photographs and books, we can become both spectators and accomplices in the discovery of other worlds.”

02.02.05

The exhibition reviews the aesthetic, the language, the influences and the work of the two Majorcan poets

The “modernism” of Alcover and Costa Llobera in an exhibition

The two brought decisive elements to modernise Catalan literature and their literary trajectories were parallel. The Majorcan poets and Miquel Costa i Llobera were two influential intellectuals during the period of the Catalan movement of the Renaixença, and the exhibition that can be visited at the Palau Moja emphasises their importance in the renewal of the aesthetic of the literary contest known as “Jocs Florals” and in the consolidation of literary Catalan language.

Previously presented in Palma de , the event, organised by the Institució de les Lletres Catalanes in collaboration with the Government of the Balearic Islands and the Institut d’Estudis Baleàrics, forms part of the Books and Reading Year and, after its exhibition in , it will travel to other towns of Catalonia and the Balearic Islands. Curated by Professor Llorenç Soldevila, the exhibition seeks to break with “half a century of inertia and oblivion” regarding the two authors. It offers a parallel view of the training background of Alcover and Costa i Llobera, their relationship with the masters of the Renaixença, their early publications in Spanish and their decisive contributions to literary aesthetics as well as their participation in the 1st International Congress on the Catalan Language (1906). The two writers materialised their adoption of Catalan as their only language of literary creation with important poetry books: in 1906 Costa published Horaciones, “a work linked to the formulation of the literary movement known as Noucentisme,” and in 1909 Alcover released the work Cap al tard, “one of the major books of 20th century Catalan poetry.” The exhibition also highlights the influence that writers such as Tolstoy or Leopardi had on Alcover, and that of Manzoni or Carducci on the poetry of Costa i Llobera. The main object of the exhibition, which also features the Majorcan landscapes immortalised by the two poets, is to stress the prevalence of their work.

03.02.05 – 04.02.05

Under 40

The Books and Reading Year gives voice to a generation of writers who have entered the literary scene with strength The writers under 40, who on 3rd and 4th February met at Fort Pienc Library to talk about their own work and reflect with critics and readers, are the representatives of a generation forging ahead. In the words of the curator of the Books and Reading Year, Sergio Vila-Sanjuán, “since the emergence and consolidation of writers such as Quim Monzó and Miquel de Palol, there had not been in the field of fiction any other group of authors of such importance that had in common the stylistic aim, the gradual construction of a personal world and the degree of aesthetic commitment.” Thirteen authors were invited to this meeting on new trends in Catalan fiction entitled ‘Under 40’. On the first day it was possible to listen to Marc Romera (Barcelona, 1966), Toni Sala (Sant Feliu de Guíxols, 1969), Neus Canyelles (, 1966), Pere Guixà (Barcelona, 1973), Cristina Masanés (Manresa, 1965) and Albert Sánchez Piñol (Barcelona, 1965).

But what are the signs of identity of this generation of authors? For Professor Jordi Cerdà, coordinator of the meeting, these thirteen writers ―a choice that, as pointed out before, was agreed with critics and strictly guided by criteria of quality, far from publishing interests― represent the new trends of Catalan fiction. “They have in common certain melancholia (with exceptions ―pointed out Toni Sala. Or perhaps Mercè Rodoreda was more vital?) and a background of uneasiness in relation to the surrounding reality. Moreover, it is the first generation that has been brought up in a state of perfect bilingualism and that has not experienced the fight against the Francoist regime.” Or, as Cristina Masanés pointed out, “we have not known fascism but rather its generational effects: we grew up listening to stories of resistance but, at the same time, we saw how the same people who had fought clung to power in the 1980s and 1990s.” Jordi Cerdà stated that another feature of this generation “is the establishment of strong links between reality, autobiography and fiction.” But beyond the aforementioned common characteristics, there are well differentiated personalities. Thus, Marc Romera, poet and author of the story book Amanida d’animals (2004) and the novel Mala vida (2002), confirms himself as an author truly concerned with language. If his issues could bring him closer to authors in Spanish such as Loriga or Mañas, he insists that what interests him less are “youth issues” while of greater interest is the desire for style. Toni Sala, author of Crònica d’un professor de secundària (2002) or Rodalies (2004), his most recent novel, is an example of an author closely linked to reality, which in his narrative he asserts for its descriptive power, an aspect questioned in one of the roundtables, in which reference had been made to the “crisis of description”.

“I write because I don’t like talking,” stated the Majorcan writer Neus Canyelles, author of the novel Cap d’Hornos (2003), who talked of literature as a “great defence” and salvation from the horrors of daily life. “I write to be free,” she concluded and she then praised silence in literature, the value of the unsaid, as important as what is said. Canyelles’ desire to break the frontiers between genres and the precision and wide scope of Guixà’s register were others of the topics dealt with. And as a colophon, Sánchez Piñol, author de Cold Skin (2003), revealed to the audience the secret reasons that led him to write a moral fable on a man exiled on an island and faced with unknown powers. “It was the result of an intellectual failure.” It was one alternative to his frustrated doctoral thesis on a tribe in Africa, explained this best-selling ―in the strictly literal sense― anthropologist of Catalan literature.

The second day of the meeting was attended by Jordi Puntí (Manlleu, 1967), Sebastià Alzamora (Llucmajor, 1972), Josep Ll. Badal (Ripollet, 1966), Empar Moliner (Santa Eulàlia de Ronçana, 1966), Francesc Serés (Saidí, 1972), Manel Zabala (Barcelona, 1968) and Jordi Cabré (Barcelona, 1974). It was a day characterised by a critical spirit and sense of humour (both so healthy). Discussion focused on tradition and the need to understand it and recognise oneself in it, but consecrated names were also questioned; on traditions and ballasts; on awards and grants and their virtue and evil; on criticism and critics. Let us take one thing at a time. Following his criticism of Josep Carner, who Alzamora considers a “mediocre poet”, the most recent Pla Award called for the right to dissidence, proof, moreover, of the health of a literature.

“If Catalan literature is so fragile that it does not admit that one of its humblest representatives makes a negative criticism, we’re stuffed,” he said, while taking into account that each generation is responsible for “facing tradition, which means understanding it.” Let’s remember that when Alzamora had made this statement about Carner for which he was taken to task by some of the audience, he had a public position of importance in the world of books, and Empar Moliner wondered where these two things were compatible, the public position and the rather critical comment on Carner. In his turn, Puntí criticised “the policy of indiscriminate grants” which, according to him, has existed in the last twenty years in Catalonia. “Subsidising is not bad and it is a way of promoting culture that exists throughout Europe,” Alzamora replied. “It is bad if it is done as it has been, without real interest in culture,” responded the other. Grants and awards were already mentioned the previous day by Toni Sala, who warned: “one of the evils that may besiege Catalan writers comes in the form of awards, grants and favourable critiques, which may isolate them from their real task: the connection with the readers.” “Catalonia is the only country in the world where writers do not get blocked”, said Puntí ironically. And he added: “In Catalonia 1,600 awards are presented every year. At present, all that those of us here talking about literature are missing the opportunity to win one.” Not even the field of hypothesis remained untouched. “What would have happened ―Puntí also wondered― if after that great Pla, Sagarra and Gaziel promotion in the 1930s a war had not started?” And “what would have happened to Catalan literature if in the 1970s the innovative and decisive voice of Quim Monzó had not emerged?” Criticism was also targeted, because the critics “under forty” were also invited to the meeting.

Jordi Galves noted that the main obligation of the critic as intellectual is “to avoid frivolity and imposture” and defended criticism as “re-writing”. The critic, he stated, is “above all a reader who re-writes.” He was referring, he specified, to “an independent and professional criticism” whose existence he asserted “as it is the most significant novelty of this generation.” And he gave names such as Julià Guillamón or Ponç Puigdevall ―and himself, naturally― among others. “We don’t have a compact aesthetic ideology or a defined set of ideas. The rejection of intellectual impostures is what unites us,” he concluded. But what happens when the critics are at the same time editors or when the person who forms part of a jury is also a writer and, therefore, a potential competitor? The suspicion is inevitable, stated Empar Moliner, thanks to whom the field of the “hypotasis” was not forgotten. The author of T’estimo si he begut pointed out ―theatrically for the joy of the audience― that she had visited a fortune-teller to find out what Miquel de Palol wanted to say when he declared that Catalan literature lacked subordinate sentences. Who says that serious literature does not admit humour?

The statements Sergio Vila-Sanjuán: “Since the emergence and consolidation of writers such as Quim Monzó and Miquel de Palol, there had not been in the field of fiction any other group of authors of such importance that had in common the stylistic aim, the gradual construction of a personal world and the degree of aesthetic commitment.” Jordi Cerdà: “They have in common a background of uneasiness in relation to the surrounding reality. Moreover, it is the first generation that has been brought up in a state of perfect bilingualism.” Toni Sala: “One of the evils that may besiege Catalan writers comes in the form of awards, grants and favourable critiques, which may isolate them from their real task: the connection with the readers.” Jordi Galves: “The existence of an independent and professional criticism is the most significant novelty of this generation. We don’t have a compact aesthetic ideology or a defined set of ideas. The rejection of intellectual impostures is what unites us.”

04.02.01 – 05.02.01

All Terenci “Terenci was very popular; he was immensely friendly; he became a media character, and this was to the detriment of the understanding of his work. This is the reason for the calling of this symposium. I would like all these people who loved him so much to read him.” These were the words of Ana Maria Moix, the sister of the writer and coordinator, together with the poet Marta Pessarrodona, of the symposium ‘Terenci Moix: a Celebration’, which took place on 4th and 5th February at the Residència d’Investigadors de Barcelona and which explored the diverse facets of the creator from Barcelona: narrative and autobiography, cinema, theatre and television, travel and also personal. A book will collect the contributions presented. Moreover, the exhibition ‘Universe Terenci Moix’, which will remain open until 20th February and whose curator is his former personal secretary, Inés González, retraces the life of Terenci through the passions that nourished the path of his life.

The symposium consecrates the memoirs of Terenci Moix

There was unanimity: the best work of Terenci Moix are his three volumes of memoirs ―El cine de los sábados, El beso de Peter Pan and Extraño en el Paraíso― collected under the title of El peso de la paja. This was the opinion of Anna Caballé, Josep Maria Castellet and Joaquim Molas who, together with Juan Ramón Iborra, participated in the session devoted to his memoirs. And Jorge Herralde would also agree, who confessed the day after that he would have loved to publish them.

An identity constructed with words Anna Caballé, Professor of Literature at the Universitat de Barcelona and Head of the Department of Biographical Studies, author of, among others, the recent biography Francisco Umbral. El frío de una vida, emphasised the “radical modernism” of the autobiographical texts of Terenci Moix: “In keeping with Coto Vedado, by Juan Goytisolo, which focuses on the search for identity, for Terenci, life could not be conceived outside writing. His identity is constructed with words.” The ambiguity of the title El peso de la paja is not, according to Caballé, gratuitous. It makes reference to the square of the same name which is close to the house where he was born but also to masturbation. And in this way, it “reveals the questioning of his sexuality and his erotic solitude.” “Childhood is a field that belongs to others,” wrote Terenci. This conviction and this sentence, paraphrased by Josep Maria Castellet, led Terenci to the need to reconstruct it, to make it his own. Thus, for the writer and editor, “in Terenci everything emerges from childhood”; from a magic word, the Nile; from plates depicting the Egyptian world; from the friezes with which his father, a painter, decorated houses; and, above all, from cinema. “The image of my revelation belongs to the film Caesar and Cleopatra,” he wrote in El peso de la paja. Terenci, explained Castellet, developed his childhood memories through dreams. Then, he wanted to compare them with reality. “He went to Egypt to verify them. But he made a mistake. He went on his own. He came back excited; his icons and dreams existed. But he was a bit of a little liar and nobody believed him.”

He had already been there For this reason, some years later, when he knew that Castellet was going to Egypt to attend a world peace conference, he asked him if he could go with him. “It surprised me, but then I realised that he wanted someone he trusted to testify that he had gone to Egypt.” And Terenci was welcomed. Ana Maria Moix completed the anecdote ―proving, in passing, her brother right: “On the first visit he had left a department store owing five thousand pesetas. On the second visit, he was detained by the owners, who argued that, if he did not pay his debt, they would not let him go. They paid.” And this proves forever that Terenci had already travelled to the city of his dreams. “For Terenci it was important that reality confirmed his dreams, his literature,” concluded Castellet. Or, according to the journalist Juan Ramón Iborra, author of the book Detrás del arco iris. En busca de Terenci Moix, for Terenci “fiction and reality were the same.” Iborra widened the autobiographical itinerary of Moix with some of his novels such as Onades sobre una roca deserta, El dia que va morir Marilyn or El sexe dels àngels. A point of view taken up by Joaquim Molas, Emeritus Professor of Catalan Literature at the UB: “In Onades... he described what he was like and what he wanted to be like: handsome and with blue eyes.” The memoirs, agreed Joaquim Molas, “are for me the best literary product that Terenci has left us. But we must remember that memoirs are always a trap: are they the memoirs of Ramon or the memoirs of Terenci?” In any case, he concluded, “they are the story of a powerful evocation and ambition of a writer.”

Caballé: “His identity is constructed with words.”

Castellet: “For Terenci it was important that reality confirmed his dreams, his literature.”

Molas: “The memoirs are the best literary product that Terenci has left us. But are they the memoirs of Ramon or the memoirs of Terenci? In any case, they are the story of a powerful evocation and ambition of a writer.”

Generous Another of the roundtables of the symposium analysed the relationship of Terenci Moix with the media. Carmen Alcalde recalled the early articles of Ramon Moix in the magazine Presència, that she edited and where the writer arrived thanks to Maria Aurèlia Capmany. The director Sergi Schaaf enchanted the audience when talking about the work of Terenci on television, as an adaptor, “a task that cannot be understood without bearing in mind his fascination for Enric Majó”; on Egypt, as a TV presenter. ‘Más estrellas que en el cielo’ was one of those programmes. They had a lot of fun. Schaaf ended with a sentence which was often repeated: “Terenci was very generous and not envious at all.” The journalist Pere Tió, Head of the Editorial Section in the newspaper Avui, explained that “interviewing Terenci was a gift. In less than twenty minutes he had already given you the headline.”

A place warmer than reality Is there still anything unsaid about Terenci and cinema? Roman Gubern did his best. He stated that for Ramon Moix, as for many children in Barcelona, cinema became a great window through which to escape the sordid reality and later he turned out “to be a man without prejudices and focused on sensitive criticism.” In his article ‘A la búsqueda de un pop cinema’, he proposes a cine-loving “hedonism” which would be at the basis of his weakness for the star system. Despite everything, it is not true that Terenci Moix was not interested in a “more intellectual” and “high culture” cinema. “Terenci produced a counter-history of cinema, anti-academic and subjective. He was an inveterate idoliser of movie stars, and he was aware of this and accepted it, because imagination was a place warmer than the ingrate reality, and cinema provided him with this place.”

Travelling in search of dreams

On Saturday a very feminine roundtable started. Bibi Solanes, Colita, Sunsi Cros and Inés González met to talk about Terenci Moix and his travels, moderated by Marta Pessarrodona, who did not confine herself to controlling the meeting but also participated when she had the opportunity. Among the audience in the auditorium of the Residència d’Investigadors, it was possible to see Ana Maria Moix, stretched out in an armchair, looking happily upwards. For Colita, Terenci Moix was, above all, “one of the persons who I’ve had the most fun with in my life.” And she recalled some trips that they shared and some anecdotes, such as the photo that Terenci wanted her to take of him ―“Terenci was so demanding!”―, a photo on the dunes, Terence with brown Lycra slips, “still with a pee stain” and published on the cover of the magazine Destino.

Terenci, a traveller? “It has been said that Terenci was a traveller,” noted Sunsi Cros. “I partly agree. He was a man who travelled,” an opinion shared by Marta Pessarrodona. “Firstly, Terenci was not interested in any destination. There were only two types of destinations that interested him: those related with his imaginary world, such as Egypt or Rome, Greece, North Africa and Disneyworld (where he used to go with the sons and daughters of his friends) or determined European cities and New York.” In short, his friend concluded, “Terenci was not an adventurer; he did not have an unlimited interest in cultural and landscape diversity.” The places for which he did not care much provoked many fears in him; in the others, he moved around as if he had always known them. In fact, he had somehow already been there, given that, as Josep Maria Castellet had stated the day before, Terenci used to travel to verify his dreams, “he wanted to rediscover what already formed part of him,” added Sunsi Cros. Another aspect that would support this idea is that “for him, the ideal was to travel as if he had not left home.” In other words, surrounded by friends, reproducing, to a certain extent and wherever he was, his daily habits and, if possible, avoiding all the procedures involved in travelling: tickets, hotel reservations, money exchange… “Rather than travelling, he was interested in living somewhere else.”

“Darling, I’m in Agatha Christie’s suite” In any case, Terenci could not be other than “an exquisite traveller” given that, as he used to affirm, “being different consists of detesting the universally accepted”, which in terms of the issue we are dealing with means “Terenci hated mass tourism.” This was the opinion expressed by the person who was his closest collaborator ―and curator of the exhibition ‘Universe Terenci Moix’―, Inés González. “Terenci had a very romantic idea of travel. He went in search of a desire and a personal destiny.” A desire which, in order to be completely fulfilled, he had to share with his friends. Thus, Inés recalled how, in the Old Cataract Hotel in Aswan, he managed to get Agatha Christie’s suite and he spent hours calling everybody by telephone while triumphantly saying: “Darling, I’m in Agatha Christie’s suite!” Sunsi Cros: “Terenci used to travel to verify his dreams. He wanted to rediscover what already formed part of him. Rather than travelling, he was interested in living somewhere else.”

Inés González: “He went in search of a desire and a personal destiny.”

The natural son of Maria Aurèlia Capmany and the Holy Spirit ‘Terenci...’ ‘Terenci? Terenci had never been here at this time!’ The conversation was maintained by Rosa Maria Sardà ―wearing sunglasses― and Enric Majó, while waking themselves up with a coffee at 11 am on Saturday, soon after beginning their contribution to the work of Terenci Moix in the theatre. Enric Majó, responsible for Terenci starting to go to the Adrià Gual Performing Arts School with an unusual assiduity, talked of the influence of the sainete in his literature and in his life and of his fascination for dialogue. “He used sainetes for everything,” he practised the foolish sainete, the esperpento, the absurd... “He loved to say that he was the natural son of Mària Aurèlia Capmany and the Holy Spirit.” “I feel strange when talking about Terenci and not being able to talk about this with him later,” stated Rosa Maria Sardà, visibly troubled.

The ambition that was not blonde

“I met him in 1965. I was amazed by his extraordinary ambition as a narrator: he planned to produce a totalising novel that would shake the Hispanic literary panorama,” stated Pere Gimferrer, one of the participants in the roundtable dealing with Terenci Moix’s fiction and who affirmed that El sexe dels àngels is his best novel in either of the two languages. “An ambition,” he added, “united with a very high self-demand which, in 2002, was the same as in 1965. At that time there was no writer who sought to do as many things, so singular and different, as him.” For the Professor of Catalan Literature at the Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Enric Cassany, “undoubtedly Terenci is a singular figure as a narrator,” both because of the type of adventure or literary manoeuvre that he undertakes, “one had the impression that the work was a channel for Terenci,” and the fact of “having corrupted the genres.” But also he was singular as a “social writer”: for his “awareness” of professional writer, “of mass market writer but without mixing with the masses.” A fact that, for Josep Anton Fernández, Professor at the University of London, allows us to compare him with the figure of Andy Warhol. “Like him, he made the frontiers between high culture and mass culture explode. In this sense, Terenci is a postmodernist author. He opens and anticipates our modernism.”

A break that spread to the frontiers between languages and between genres and which, for Josep Anton Fernández, places his narrative in a “dislocated position” within Catalan literature. Or “extraterritorial”, according to Cassany: “The whole of his narrative is located outside the realistic conventions, as well as outside the genre. In fact, nothing was further from Terenci’s mind than the idea that his literature had to serve reality, rather the contrary.” And, in fact, Terenci finally managed “to impose his world.” Josep Anton Fernández also emphasised as a major contribution of his literature “the construction of a subjectivity which is no longer that of modernism ―in other words, that of a united subject that expressed truth― but rather that of a being self- constructed with fiction and based on myths and parody.”

Pere Gimferrer: “I was amazed by his extraordinary ambition as a narrator. An ambition united with a very high self-demand. At that time there was no writer who sought to do as many things, so singular and different, as him.”

Josep Anton Fernández: “Like Andy Warhol, he made the frontiers between high culture and mass culture explode. Terenci Moix is a postmodernist author. He brings us a being self-constructed with fiction and based on myths and parody.”

Close up

“I met him through Ana Maria Moix at the time of the group of the novísimos: we were all a little snobbish, used too many words in English and spent a lot of time talking on the telephone. Terenci was foolish, witty, irresponsible, capricious, unbearable, beloved. He was a professional of seduction and also a tireless worker,” stated Esther Tusquets, in a marathon meeting that combined academic analysis with personal memories and testimonies. “I remember him always in close up, filling the screen. Always with his finger in many pies, scandalising Catalan culture and in the club Bocaccio, where he did not scandalise anyone,” pointed out Jorge Herralde. “I would have loved to publish his memoirs. They will last as memories and as literature.” Josep Crehueres, Deputy Managing Director of Grupo Planeta, recalled the day when he first met him, the day of the presentation of the Planeta Award. Terenci had won the award, and when Crehueres went to his house to take him to the ceremony. He was wearing a gun, watching one of his favourite films. He did not want to leave home until the film was finished, “like a naughty boy.” But Crehueres also remembered how, the last time he saw him, Terenci was very ill and would die in a few days and did not allow us to talk about him. “He knew that I had professional problems and he encouraged me and gave me advice. He was always very generous.” “Despite such an exuberant figure, I believe that he is one of the humblest writers I have ever met. I think I have never met a writer who I asked to eliminate fifty pages and did,” noted his sister, Ana Maria Moix. “He spent his life saying that he was a coward and we all believed him. He was, like me, very afraid of illness and death, but as the end approached, he showed extraordinary courage. He never complained. He had emphysema, but he died of bone cancer. He had told me that if he ever had cancer I should not tell him so but, as he could not move his legs, we had to tell him something… He remained silent for three minutes, and then he said: ‘Darling, I’ve walked for 61 years, now I’ll walk with my head.’ When Rosa Maria Sardà, who knew that he had cancer, went to visit him, my brother asked her: ‘Do you know what the doctor told me? That I’ll never use a sewing machine again.’ This is how Terenci was.”

16.02.05

Dealers in writing on both sides of the Pyrenees “At first all literature is alien to me. There are texts which are written in one’s own language and others in a different language.” These were the first statements of the contribution of the emblematic French publisher Christian Bourgois (owner and Chief Editor of the publishing house of the same name) in the roundtable ‘Dealers in Writing’ held on the afternoon of 16th February at the Institut Français de Barcelone and which also enjoyed the participation of Jorge Herralde and Enrique Vila-Matas to talk about the work of publishers making readers discover foreign literature. Obviously, the first condition of making it known is for them to have discovered it before and, on this point, Bourgois and Herralde agreed that “friendly relationships” with other colleagues are essential. The classic word of mouth within a circle of editors and writers with mutual trust who pass from one country to another the names of the authors to be taken into account, as true dealers in writing. “Apart from being attentive to what is being published worldwide, of course,” added Bourgois. A circuit of information that Herralde and Bourgois have maintained for more than thirty years, recalled the Barcelona publisher, when, following the creation of the award “Le Prix des Sept”, publishers such as the German Klaus Wagenbach, the Italian Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, Christian Bourgois and himself (that is, the crème of European publishing) used to meet to talk about the books they loved. Those meetings were repeated on the occasion of other awards and book fairs ―and more informal occasions, we suppose. A classic is the Paris Book Fair, frequented by Lobo Antunes, Enrique Vila-Matas, also in the past by Roberto Bolaño, and Alan Ginsberg, all of them authors shared by Bourgois and Herralde ―Alan Ginsberg will join the Anagrama group from September.

A liaison dangeureuse “It is said that Proust used to say that he loved reading books that seemed to be written in a foreign language,” pointed out in his turn Enrique Vila-Matas. “And this is what I like, to read things that sound foreign, that bring me something…” The truth is that, so that what sounds to us different, or even revealing, is accessible to us, there is an unavoidable figure: the translators. Their task is so delicate to the point that, in the words ―perhaps a little tragic― of Herralde, “a bad translation can distort a book for the whole of eternity.” A paradigmatic case, as he explained, is the book of the American John Kennedy Toole Conspiracy of Dunces, which in its Spanish edition became a real cult book for a whole generation and, in contrast, in France it was a failure. There is no doubt that to create a good writer-translator tandem is one of the dreams of any publisher of foreign literature, although “it is often a matter of chance,” stated Bourgois. Nonetheless, the pragmatic publisher added that “a questionable translation is better than no translation,” and concluded by recognising that “we always criticise the translators and it is often very unfair.” However, the relationship between editors, writers and translators can be “sadomasochistic”, confessed Bourgois, who used the example of Susan Sontag: “She drove me crazy. She knew French very well and made thousands of observations on the translation. The problem is that almost all were pertinent. I have had three translations of one of her books!” And, taking a more positive view of this issue, he explained that “at present there are a series of Spanish translators in Paris who are excellent. Vila-Matas is very well translated, for instance.” And Vila-Matas explained how his books had been translated by three different translators, coinciding with three different stages in the evolution of his work. Thus, he positively noted that the translator of Historia abreviada de la literatura portátil “was very similar to me.” He was later translated by a woman “who was more conventional, like my literature of that time.” Finally, it seems as if he has become another thanks to the work of its last translator, because when Vila-Matas recently saw a fragment of his last novel París no se acaba nunca in the book supplement of a French newspaper “I hardly recognised myself in it.”

Publishing market The case of Vila-Matas helped Herralde to praise the work of his French colleague. “The starting point of the relationship between Vila-Matas and Bourgois may be my recommendation, but what exemplifies his way of working is that, after having released Historia abreviada de la literatura portátil, he continued promoting his five next books, which worked well in terms of criticism but not in terms of profits, and he maintained himself until Bartleby y compañía came and then El mal de Montano and, above all, París no se acaba nunca, which already worked very well.” In fact, “publishing good books is very easy. What is difficult is to publish good books and sell them,” stated Herralde paraphrasing the publisher of Penguin Books. Competition, in a market with a large annual production, in which “many good books are released but also many bad,” is very tough. And in this context, the promotion achieved through the media has become precious and increasingly difficult too because most of the main newspapers are backed by big publishing groups that condition what book supplements publish,” denounced Herralde. If Herralde, as he recognised, devotes many efforts to the relationship with the press, Bourgois seems to see it differently. In his small publishing house, founded by himself, his wife, an assistant and an accountant, there is no chief press officer. “I don’t have a press officer. It is my catalogue. Borges stated that he wrote for his wife, his friends and to make life easier. I publish books for this reason. And I hope that, sooner or later, they will find their readers. In the publishing sector, failures are more numerous than successes, but this doesn’t matter,” he concluded with convincing elegance due to his professional background.

Booksellers and the solitary publisher “We are around ten publishers in Europe that try to publish books differently from the others. Each book is an adventure. I have always wanted to publish books, never write them,” continued Bourgois. “I don’t believe in the word marketing. I believe in the word bookseller. Eighty per cent of my sales are made with four hundred booksellers, and thanks to them we exist.” “The value of the bookseller is now the leitmotif,” continued Herralde. “As it seems that the big publishing concentration is almost achieved, the main danger now is the bookselling concentration, which would be the end of literary publishing. This is why the publisher’s price is essential, something that the PP government wanted to eliminate. Without a publisher’s price the life of independent bookshops would be seriously compromised, and also the literary menu of the readers.” Bourgois ended with a real statement on life: “In my publishing house we are only four people. We publish around forty new titles every year. Sometimes it is difficult, with the pressure of others that try to take your place… I started forty-six years ago with a great publisher who is now working for the group Vivendi. At the age of sixty I managed to buy my name, which did not belong to me, and my stock. And I found myself aged sixty in a small office and dealing with bankers, because in the past I never had to deal with money. And I am very happy despite the difficulties. As long as I can I will continue to be independent; in other words, solitary.” 18.02.05

Travels and literature: interior and exterior landscapes

Rosa Regàs recalled how, in her youth, she was enchanted when she heard the voice reciting distant destinations through the airport loudspeakers. In fact, one of the vocations of this writer and current Director of the Spanish National Library, who has always defined herself as a person of many vocations, is to travel. This is what she explained on 18th February in the exhibition hall of the Círculo de Lectores Foundation in carrer Princesa, where she shared the roundtable with the journalist Xavier Moret and the founder of the bookshop Altaïr, Pep Bernadas, to talk of travel fiction and adventure. The conversation was included within the framework of the exhibition ‘Looking at the World’ which can be seen until 27th February. The fact is that the passion of all three for travel took them as far as the river Mekong, with a long stay in the African desert, and only at the end and at the request of a woman among the audience did they focused on literature. In short, they talked of travel in the literal sense of the word, although between the two experiences, travel and reading, many parallels can be established. But, on this occasion, this exercise was implicitly commissioned to the listeners.

Understanding our interior landscape There are many ways of travelling but, for these three travellers, the most genuine travelling experience is to travel alone. “I like travelling alone because if I go with other people I travel through their eyes,” explained Regàs. When travelling alone you are more open to understanding those you come across, they all agreed. “We widen the horizon of our sensitivity and also that of our resistance,” reaffirmed Regàs. Or to put it bluntly: “if you travel on your own and your back hurts, there is no point in complaining and therefore you don’t complain.” At the age of seventy-two, travelling continues to be an adventure for the author of Viaje a la luz del Cham, her book on a trip to Syria. But by travelling not only do we seek adventure but we learn what we are. As we go further, not only do we discover other landscapes but “our interior landscape.” Travelling, concluded Rosa Regàs, “is a way of breaking routine and habit and become creatures of imagination which, finally, is what brings us happiness.” For Pep Bernadas, the physical and temporal space is eminently a space of emotion. “Space that allows you to dream and exceed the limits.” The traveller and bookseller recalled one of his experiences in the Saharan desert, on his way to Mali. At night, he explained, he and the other travellers, Bedouins, gathered around the fire and tried to make themselves understood through sketches. “We laughed a lot,” he explained. “That was chemically pure life,” he exclaimed impetuously. Travelling also helps “to realise how values, or even physical sensations, such as pain, are relative,” he went on. “Travelling,” added Xavier Moret, who adopted the role of moderator, “keeps our senses alert throughout the day.” This capacity of being attentive is important given that daily life often isolates us from the surroundings. And an ideal place to exercise this capacity of being attentive to the surroundings, without uneasiness and at one with ourselves, is the desert, a place for which both Regàs and Bernadas confessed their predilection. “That limitless space creates a climate that allows you to let go. You can spend hours without uttering a word, alone and daydreaming. You are with yourself.” And sometimes, even though it may seem impossible, it rains! “and in two or three days you see the desert full of grass and flowers. It is like an epiphany,” explained Bernadas excitedly.

Travelling generations Until recently, was not a travelling country. One century ago, the loss of the colonies produced a bitter spirit and people turned their back on the world, explained Bernadas. Obviously, Franco’s dictatorship only hardened this trend. This started changing from the 1960s, spawning a generation that started travelling. At present, one of the most important things, “is that people have realised that travelling is not only about leisure and holidays but something deeper.” Something of greater scope because “what’s wonderful is to realise, as you visit countries, that we are all the same. The forms change a lot, of course, but at heart we all need the same: a certain material sufficiency, to be loved a little, and to know at least what will happen the next day.” However, according to Regàs, we must not fall into an a-critical relativism. “We are often so fascinated by ancient cultures, that we accept them for the simple fact of being ancient.” The writer criticised, for instance, the Masai culture, because women are subjugated. Thus, travelling, she concluded, “cannot only serve to awaken our emotions but also our commitment.” At present, travellers have a role as important as in the time of Marco Polo, continued Bernadas. And this is because, in our world so influenced by the media, we receive information through news channels that tend to simplify reality and reproduce stereotypes. “Today there are few people who look at their surroundings with fresh eyes and a basis of knowledge. We must call for this look, based on which new dialogues can be established.”

Literature, finally It was then when a woman among the audience asked the lecturers what had happened to travel fiction. Rosa Regàs explained: “I have a friend who has not been anywhere but has spent her life reading travel books. When I call her, she tells me ‘well, I’m in Latin America or in…’” “I have always enjoyed those travel writers who have never travelled, such as Jules Verne or Jonathan Swift,” added Bernadas. In fact, we are faced with two great travellers of imagination because, even the fiction which talks of an individual who never goes out of the room invites readers to a journey of the self towards the others. “Many classical writers of literature, beginning with the Odyssey and including Don Quixote, start with a journey,” stated Xavier Moret concluding the talk. The rest is in the books.

22.02.05

From Calasso to Kafka through K.

The writer, essayist, critic and editor Roberto Calasso (Florence, 1941), author of books such as The Ruin of Kasch, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony, Ka, or K., his last work published in Spain, seems to be one of the “initiated”, someone who plays with knowledge without trying to put forward any system, leaving this to science. This is why the lecture, which he delivered in the afternoon of 22nd Tuesday at CaixaForum ―within the cycle of the great masters of 20th century literary criticism which started in January― devoted to revealing some of the creative keys of his last book K. or, if you prefer, of Kafka’s work, was a very beautiful oral story, of great suggestive power, but difficult to reduce to a series of conclusions. Rather, he encouraged the audience to read Kafka, “the most complex author of his time” and, paradoxically the easiest to read.

“Why when you read The Trial or The Castle do you feel immediately caught and, at the same time, incapable of saying what the novels are about? I immediately sensed that answering this question would lead me to a whole book,” noted Roberto Calasso, who in this way explained one of the keys to the genesis of K., with which he also sought “to investigate the connections” between the two works of the Czech writer. Although, perhaps, he is united to Kafka by other kinds of underworld currents. In fact, the first words in German that Calasso heard as a child were in the mouth of Frau Bloch, who, apparently, was the mother of the only child engendered by Kafka, dead at the age of seven, as he explained. But where does the complexity of Kafka lie, a complexity which is superior, for example, to that of Joyce, substantially less accessible because of its form, or Proust or Musil? It is not in its form, “an always classical, neat, precise prose,” which “confers unity on his whole work.” Its complexity lies in the “uncertainty” resulting from the meaning of his novels and perhaps it derives from the quality that Canetti mentioned when he stated that there are writers who are “so themselves,” so characteristic that it is difficult to spread the fabric of their creation on the canvas that serves us as a tool of analysis. Above all if this canvas adopts the form of allegory, “a lost path” to approach Kafka’s work, as Calasso pointed out, given that the allegorical readings made of The Castle and of The Trial “trivialise these novels while pretending to show their content.” As Canetti said ―and the author of Mass and Power knew about it―, “Kafka has been the great expert of power,” paraphrased Calasso. “But if one assimilates this ‘power’ to a specific power, the result is extremely preditable.” Kafka sensed that “he only had to name the minimum in its pure literality” and “an unusual energy would concentrate in what was named,” stated Calasso. And the fact of clinging to the literality of what is named would therefore be for the Italian writer the appropriate way to read Kafka.

“What is invisible has a burlesque tendency to appear as what is visible. We are immediately punished by this confusion, but the illusion remains.” This (essential?) trait is one of the readings (and writings) that the author of K. makes of The Trial and The Castle. Consequently, “the point around which everything revolves is the choice: its impenetrable darkness. A choice based on a theology of what is unique.” And, moreover, this decisive point would link Kafka to Judaism, an issue on which the author considers “there has been too much writing.” The author of The Metamorphosis knew little of the Hebraic texts, according to him. “He never read excessively the Kabala and the Hassidic texts.” The Czech writer “was a natural theologian,” not of a single theology “but rather of many, one after the other,” noted the author of Literature and the Gods. “The maximum closeness between choice and condemnation (The Trial and The Castle) makes him almost blasphemous, but it is the natural point where we are.” And, despite everything, “those reading Kafka have the constant suspicion that it deals with verisimilitude,” which would place him at the antipodes of a writer like Poe, for instance, despite the frequent, and erroneous, consideration that Kafka is a fantasy writer. In fact, however, is there anything that we experience with more certainty than the existence of power and the need to choose? “Kafka was born in a moment when the concealed part of the world was increasingly ignored while everything was reduced to what was visible,” added Calasso. Despite everything, concluded the author of K. by emphasising that he was about to give one of the Kafkian keys to the auditorium: “Kafka does not seek to dissipate mystery.” And if someone had been slightly disappointed, he added: “Be patient, the mystery will emerge illuminated by its own light.”

Given that Roberto Calasso was invited as a critic, Manuel Asensi, coordinator of the cycle, asked him to locate himself within the contemporary panorama of literary criticism and theory. But the thought and work of Calasso cannot easily be labelled, and the Italian does not identify himself with any of the current schools or trends of thought, as he clearly stated. Is it perhaps unavoidable? It does not fit him. “With reference to this K., I must say that, as for any writer, the essential is the form, which is not strictly essayist or narrative. It is a strange genre which aims at opening the land of Kafka, discovering a landscape.” As for criticism in general, the writer does not believe that we are in a fortunate moment. “The great 20th century criticism was made by writers: Benjamin, Proust, Valéry... Since the 1960s, the semiological trend has imposed itself; and I must admit that, if I had to choose one single book, I wouldn’t know which one.” The universities should open the books to the readers, as did those writers, argued Calasso. Thus, his advice was to “reopen” those writers. “None of them had any method or school, but they were moved by a thrust. Even in Kafka we find sentences related to writers with whom he felt a blood relation. Because if this is missing, criticism misses its raison d’être. We have a century ahead to recover this perspective,” he concluded.

24.02.05

More books, more intelligence

On 24th February at the auditorium of CosmoCaixa, the philosopher and secondary education teacher José Antonio Marina, author, among others, of the books El vuelo de la inteligencia and La inteligencia fracasada delivered the lecture ‘Is it possible to recover the magic of reading?’ within the framework of the presentation of the Activities Programme of the Books and Reading Year to the education centres of Barcelona. The lecture sought to approach how and why to promote the habit of reading among children and young people, and the beautiful and suggestive title of the lecture, which includes the word “magic”, should not confuse us because, in the end, beneath the defence of reading lies an eminently pragmatic reason: reading develops intelligence. The event was introduced by the Arts Councillor Ferran Mascarell

Marina began with a declaration of principles ―“I am, above all, a secondary education teacher. I deal with this issue in the trenches.”― and with a confirmation ―“Throughout the education process students lose interest in reading.” He noted that eight year olds read more than fourteen year olds, and the latter more than young people of eighteen, which leads to a quite catastrophic conclusion: apparently, “education deters reading.” From the aforementioned comes the fact that something urgently needs to be done. We should not go in blindly but knowing exactly what are we talking about; in other words, to understand the functions of reading and their evolution through time, to understand how reading is linked to our intelligence and, of course, to finally admit that reading is difficult. Moreover, he pointed out that it is worthless to undervalue the difficulty of the intellectual process involved in deciphering a complex code like writing. Marina, who calls himself a language enthusiast, confesses that today he does not read with the fervour he had at the age of fifteen. But, it fact, the ways of reading throughout history have varied as proven by Don Quixote, this year celebrating the four hundredth anniversary of its publication. In the work by Cervantes, a man becomes insane doing no more and no less than reading. Something similar happens to Madame Bovary. Who would write such a thing now? Today, probably, a writer would place the fictional origin of the insanity of some of his characters in some television genre (a bunch of script writers have done so in films such as ‘Chasing Amy’). Reading has had two fundamental functions throughout history. On the one hand, a cognitive function: the information that we receive through reading does not arrive in any other way. And to be aware that this function is essential, immersed as we are in an image society, given that the image itself “is poor in information”, it “is a snapshot”, but the words give us “the time, the context and the circumstance.” This is why its function is irreplaceable. The image, however, “is very vibrant” in other words, it has a great emotional capacity, which takes us to the second function of language, which is in fact the emotional function. For a long time, reading almost entirely provided the search for emotions, for entertainment. But cinema first and television later have managed to provoke those emotions “using for this end a much simpler code.” This results in its great capacity of penetration in the market of the artefacts supplying emotions given that, at the same time, we have realised how “the reading code is extremely difficult.”

The carrying out of any activity by an individual is subject, as Marina explained, to the result of the average between the satisfaction provided and the effort required. Watching television, for instance, is a code that requires very little effort. Listening is also a simpler code than reading. Thus, a first and clear conclusion is that “if we want our children to read either we increase the satisfaction or decrease the difficulty that they have in reading.” It seems that the difficulty that in general young people are currently experiencing in relation to reading is quite important. “Everyone finds it hard to experience pleasure when reading a foreign novel because of the difficulty involved in understanding the text.” And this is, according to Marina, “the situation of secondary school students in terms of reading and most university students.” One data: according to a recent review, “25% of university students did not understand the editorial of a newspaper.” This is frightening. So, what to do? Next, the author of El misterio de la voluntad perdida offered some practical recommendations for parents, teachers and secondary school teachers.

What should the parents do? Three things which, although they may seem common sense, are still worth pointing out, given that this sense has a terrifying tendency to vanish: read stories to the children, have books at home and let them see you read. How will a child who has never read a story, almost ignores the form of a book because this object does not form part of his/her environment and, above all, has never seen the parents read have the desire to read? Shouldn’t we recall that these children, these creatures with human form and absorbent minds, learn, above all, through the mechanism of imitation? To teachers, the author of Elogio y refutación del ingenio recommended “great astuteness” to introduce children to “this anti-natural code” that reading is, given that, in fact, it is about finding out “how we can stabilize reading habits, with the least possible suffering.” Marina loves to observe how children learn to talk; in other words, how they gradually incorporate the logic of language. One should point out something that he considers useful both for teachers and for parents: children like to hear people talk, even when they are babies, and although they do not understand the meaning of the words, they understand the tone. In any case, from the age of one, more or less, children have fun with language and are anxious to learn to talk. And there is an elementary reason for this: “being able to talk gives them power.” Marina recalled that “we should take advantage of this in order to encourage reading.” “Everything we do in life,” stated the author of Aprender a vivir, “results from the desire to be happy,” which requires harmonising our desire for improvement with our need for security and tranquillity; in other words, for comfort. To this end, “it is important,” he emphasised, “that children realise that, through reading, they are enlarging their possibilities.” “The feeling that they are advancing is a great educational resource.”

Finally, with reference to secondary education, Marina’s suggestion will probably frighten the most conservative: “The classics should be expelled from the school,” uttered the teacher without further preamble. “They are too complicated at a linguistic level, very sophisticated in terms of syntax and they often deal with issues alien to ours.” “For instance Quevedo,” he stated, “is probably one of the best Spanish writers, but apart from El Buscón, he is very boring.” Neither did Cervantes escape, of whom he said that “he had the chance to meet Don Quixote,” but he would never dare to give his students Exemplary Novels. For the time being, they “don’t have to read Universal Literature,” he stated ironically. Of course the books preferred by his students are The Catcher in the Rye and Lord of the Flies and who dares say that the books by Salinger and Golding are not two great contemporary classics of youth literature? The truth is that, if the aim is to get people hooked on reading (afterwards this can be expanded and taste and criteria defined), it is not a good idea to dismiss, for instance, the best-sellers, something which recently has seemed to awaken the interest of Marina and about which he is preparing something. “Why is a book read?” he wondered. Why have young people clamoured to read Harry Potter as have adults with The Da Vinci Code? Books which, apart from being read, are devoured. “There’s something, undoubtedly.”

Finally we reach the heart of the matter: in short, why is reading important? “Because our intelligence is structurally linguistic,” states Marina. And “because the scenario for decent harmony is linguistic” (or what else does the oft repeated call for dialogue mean?). “And reading,” concludes Marina, “is the best way we have for linguistic knowledge.” In fact, “the disorders of hyperactivity or aggressiveness are often associated with linguistic disorders,” he notes. In short, “reading develops the intelligence because our intelligence is linguistic.” This is why it is so “urgent” to promote reading. Not even because “more culture is a guarantee of more goodness.” Many philosophers, literary critics and theoreticians and writers warned about this naïve chance and history offers us enough examples of very cultivated depraved figures. It is something as elementary as the fact that “without language, we wouldn’t have left the jungle.” For this reason, given that in the field of education the only thing we can do is “to increase the probability” of students “doing and learning what we want them to do and learn,” concluded Marina, “the fact that a whole city commits to an educational campaign seems very important to me.” Because today it seems as if “parents and teachers have the feeling that we educate against society.” And if society commits to the value of reading, “we will have many more opportunities for our children to read.” And for them to be more clever, the best human resource to achieve joy and dignity.

After the contribution of José Antonio Marina, the actress Àngels Molner presented, on behalf of the Institute of Education of Barcelona City Council, some of the activities that, within the programme of the Books and Reading Year, are offered to the education centres. Among them the theatre company L’Estenedor played a fragment of the puppet show aimed at primary school students, ‘Tirant lo Blanc’, a delight; and the members of the company La Jarra Azul, in their respective roles of the Knight of the Sad Face and his squire offered a sample of the activity ‘Don Quixote, my Lad’, a workshop for secondary school students consisting of the dramatisation of the episodes of Don Quixote and Sancho in Barcelona.

And also...

Francesca Bonnemaison Library has already opened the cafeteria for readers. With ‘Coffee and Literature: a Special Relationship’, the writer Alfred Bosch and the journalist Lluís Permanyer opened on 10th February the afternoon talks on books and reading, organised by Biblioteques de Barcelona. A place to talk at leisure about books with writers and all kinds of professionals.

For Carnival, disguises and literature. The citizens’ festival has included this year a Books and Reading Year Special Award for the cavalcade participants inspired by this celebration.

A week of stories. From 14th to 19th February several authors read their own stories or their preferred writers at the Café Salambó.

The Catalan Book Week pays tribute to Montserrat Roig and Roser Capdevila. More activities for all ages and two exhibitions ―one devoted to Montserrat Roig, with photographs by Pilar Aymerich, and another on Hans Christian Andersen on the occasion of the two hundredth anniversary of his birth― are some of the attractions of the 23rd Catalan Book Week which began on 25th February and can be visited at the Drassanes in Barcelona until 6th March. Another of the events is also related to children’s books, because the illustrator Roser Capdevila, the creator of The Triplets, will receive the Trajectòria Award. The Week also includes a debate on two different trends in Catalan poetry ―which will pit Dolors Miquel, Albert Roig and Enric Casasses against the imparables Sebastià Alzamora, Hèctor Bofill and Manuel Forcano―; a lecture by Bernardo Atxaga and the presentation of the conclusions of the meeting on Catalan contemporary fiction entitled ‘Under 40’.

And continuing... The High Novel on Barcelona. Throughout February, this course directed by professors Margarida Casacuberta and Marina Gustà at the City History Archive, has had the participation of Jordi Castellanos, who talked about ‘The Literary Discovery of the Fifth District’; Eulàlia Pérez, with the session ‘The Attraction of the Cities: Images of Barcelona of Folch i Torras’; and Gustà and Casacuberta themselves, who delivered, respectively, the lectures ‘Myth and Reality in the Barcelona of Josep M. de Segarra’ and ‘The Barcelona of the Senyor Esteve”.