Monday, November 15. Tribute to Cristina Peri Rossi in Casa América, in the absence of the protagonist, entrenched at home with a cold that not even the Cervantes award has mitigated. The writer will celebrate her golden wedding anniversary with the city next year, 50 years with us since she went into exile from Uruguay. I am looking for his poem ‘Telephone booth 1975’ to rethink it: «Exile is having a franc in your pocket / and that the phone swallows the coin / and does not drop it / —no coin, nor call— / at the exact moment we realize / that the cabin it does not work”.
Tuesday, 16. The Barcelona City Council demolishes the Citizens’ project to install statues of Don Quixote and Sancho on the Barceloneta beach, the place where the nobleman is defeated in the duel against the Knight of the White Moon. What was the sculpture like? Has anyone seen the model? The proposal seems to have been done in a good way, looking for the devastating headline. When you imagine a beach towel threaded on the supposed spear, when you think of the squire’s rodent with saddlebags loaded with infamous mojitos, you almost feel relief. But immediately the grief emerges, well Barcelona, where eminent Cervantists have come from, It is for Don Quixote «an archive of courtesy, a hostel for foreigners, a hospital for the poor, a home for the brave, revenge for the offended, and a pleasant correspondence from firm friends, and on site and in beauty, unique ». What a contradiction.
Wednesday, 17. I leave home on the run, behind the knob of the sharpener, with two kitchen knives more blunt than made of wood. I chase the rattle through the corners of the air, a high-pitched melody, always upward, like unanswered questions, until I find the grinder, one of the last specimens of an endangered species. It turns out that the whistle did not come from a pan flute, but from an airy amp recording. When the metal recovers the soul, starting sparks from the stone, the man charges me four euros for each knife … It would have been more important to buy them new in the Chinese bazaar or in The Simpsons badulaque. What Glasgow or what rubbish: endlessly consuming until the planet is sharpened.
Thursday, 18. Hundreds of migrants they remain crowded in Belarus, in the town of Bruzgi, on the border with Poland. They have been ‘stored’ in a transport and logistics center, crammed to the ceiling with metal shelving, in sleeping bags stretched out on pallets, stacked like Ikea or Amazon merchandise ready for distribution. Throwaway beings, such as knives, a thrown weapon in gas wars.
Saturday, 20. Tequila concert in Razzmatazz on the very symbolic date of Franco’s death. The group says goodbye to the stage. I do not go because I find out late about the event, but I console myself by reading an interview with Alejo Stivel where he says: «Sometimes, I think that everything that is going to live is a sequel to what happened. Those Argentines, who had been fleeing from another dictatorship, that of Videla, breathed color and oxygen into the transition. Latin American exiles also fed us. Give and take.
Monday, 22. The Bishop Emeritus of Solsona, Xavier Novell, and the erotic-satanic writer Sílvia Caballol they get married in the court of the peace in Súria. A discreet ceremony after the groom has finished his workday, analyzing pig sperm, at the Semen Cardona company. Will the Church ever address the issue of celibacy? Modernization is in patches; A sign in one of the neighborhood churches says: «Do you want to give a donation to the parish? Now you can do it through Bizum ».
Thursday, 25. The downpour catches me with a ridiculous red umbrella, cheap, that forces me to take refuge under the canopy of a shop window. Fashion has brought back the ‘brilli brilli’ and sequins, which unintentionally carry with them a certain decadent air, as a bolero player come to less, very in keeping with the times. The ‘flappers’ also wore them sewn on the skirts. Where is the frenzy of the new 20s? Where is the joy? We will have to resuscitate it: “We are going to play a rock and roll in the town square, we are going to play a rock and roll and nobody is going to stop us.”