It is often said that Barcelona is a dynamic and vital city, but during the Diada de Sant Jordi that perception does not always correspond to the street: throughout the day another way of moving is established, slower but equally alive. Barcelona adopts another rhythm: that of a long after-dinner conversation, a timeless chat, a rose delicately chosen for the loved one and a book read without haste, even when the novel captivates us.
Even those who try to rush through end up entering that other rhythm: the city slows them down with queues, interruptions and small obstacles that force them to stop. The constant movement of people mixes with the whistle of agents regulating traffic, under the deployment of more than 430 agents and auxiliary urban guards across the city during the festival.
Because Sant Jordi is no longer a single point in the city or a simple literary super-block: there are more than 6,000 stalls —about 425 professional— spread across all districts, among books, roses, entities and parties. Placed in a straight line, these stalls would form a 3.7-kilometer stretch of uninterrupted celebration. And it doesn't only happen in Barcelona: every town experiences the festival with the same intensity, as if the map of Sant Jordi had multiplied.
A couple walks during Sant Jordi's day. © Àngel Bravo For one day, even tourists get caught up in the local crowd. They move through the multitude with a mix of surprise and bewilderment, trying to understand the city's rhythm. "This is crazy, I don't understand what's happening," exclaims a tourist as she tries to make her way, with a rose bought almost by intuition, as if the gesture were enough to be part of the day. Others stop, observe, and, without realizing it, end up entering that flow that Barcelona imposes.
A Sant Jordi without La Rambla
This Sant Jordi, governed by pollen, record numbers, and crowds, has also left other scenes, or even absences. La Rambla, an emblematic street of the festival and closely linked to it since its origins, no longer offers its usual image: the works have shifted the center of gravity to other areas of the city, and it is precisely on this promenade, usually full of movement, where one can walk with an unusual calm.
Workers working on the construction of La Rambla, which this year loses prominence in Sant Jordi. © Àngel Bravo This absence, however, gives way to new scenes. El Portal de l'Àngel —although it is not exempt from works either, with the old Corte Inglés in full transformation—, the Cathedral and various side streets become unexpectedly central spaces. Places that are usually secondary and that this year gain prominence.
In these new settings, Sant Jordi offers almost unusual images: an Asian couple in a full photo shoot. She, dressed in a dress woven with roses —perhaps by chance or by consciousness—, dances with a rose in her hand on the Cathedral steps, while a few meters away readers leaf through new stories. And, amidst these absences and new locations, Sant Jordi also recovers images from other times: the traditional hot chocolate with melindros in the Pati dels Tarongers.
Just like new images, there are also writers who debut in their first Sant Jordi. This is the case of Lucía Solla Sobral, who has already sold more than 100,000 copies of her first novel, Comerás flores. The first Sant Jordi is also the discovery of a rhythm that has no pauses: endless queues, signatures that chain together and conversations with readers that probably last less than desired.
But alongside the debutants are also the repeaters. Names that concentrate the longest queues, especially within the phenomenon of romantic and young adult literature, such as Alice Kellen or Elisabet Benavent, already a regular presence at this event. There are also authors like Javier Castillo or Sonsoles Ónega, who stretch the rhythm of the day beyond what the clock dictates: they continue signing when the day should have already ended, often standing, giving up eating or any break. In some places, this movement must be ordered: queues are managed with tickets and access is regulated, also in spaces like the L3.
The Cathedral has become one of the central spaces this year. © Àngel Bravo Asked the authors, the discourse is repeated almost identically. "It's the best day of the year," affirmed Jaume Clotet in the traditional literary breakfast with the press. But it's not an isolated phrase: it's a shared feeling. For many writers, Sant Jordi is the only day when the reader stops being an abstract idea and becomes a physical presence, in gestures and words that are repeated throughout the day —"your book helped me in a difficult moment" or "this book changed me" are common comments at the different signings—.
Pedro Almodóvar, aware of the intensity of the day, signs with a cushion on the chair and another on his back, prepared for a long and physically demanding day. Someone who doesn't seem to worry about comfort is Joël Dicker, who decides to sign standing up. Perhaps this posture responds to the desire to experience a Sant Jordi in the city again after twelve years of absence, on a day when the public receives him with long queues organized with tickets, as if it were a long-standing pending appointment.
Readers queuing for Joël Dicker. © Àngel Bravo One Sant Jordi, multiple faces
Although these media names —from influencers to classics like Pilarín Bayés or singers like Antonio Orozco— concentrate queues and gazes, they are not the only ones signing. More than 250 signing points distributed throughout the city display writers of all genres and audiences in parallel, in an overflowing choreography that makes it impossible to speak of a single epicenter.
The list of best-selling authors —Regina Rodríguez Sirvent, Gil Pratsobrerroca, Òscar Andreu and Francesc Torralba in Catalan; and Eduardo Mendoza, Fernando Aramburu, Ana Garriga and Paz Padilla in Spanish—, despite its media echo, does not represent the totality of sales. Because Sant Jordi cannot be reduced to a single concept or explained only by its most visible names. In fact, the Booksellers' Guild estimates that this list, still provisional, represents barely 5% of the total titles sold during the festival.
Eduardo Mendoza signing during Sant Jordi's Day. © Àngel Bravo The real dimension of the day is better understood with the global figures: sales are close to 27 million euros in books, according to initial calculations, and exceed the previous record —set at 26.1 million—, on a day that, for some bookstores, can represent up to 20% of annual turnover.
Roses also follow this same logic. Close to seven million have been sold throughout Catalonia, but the figure says little if not looked at closely. They are not a uniform mass, but millions of concrete gestures: a rose that is bought, given, and received. From afar they may seem the same, but up close each one has a different story.
Beyond books and roses, Sant Jordi is also eaten. These days, pastry shops and bakeries throughout the city fill their windows with sweets in the shape of a rose, a book, or a dragon. But among all the variants there is a classic that endures: Sant Jordi's bread. In some traditional bakeries, this bread has once again generated small queues, more discreet than those at literary stalls, but equally constant. A more silent ritual that is also part of a day that unfolds in multiple layers and expressions.
Close to seven million roses have been sold throughout Catalonia. © Àngel Bravo Because Sant Jordi is much more than all this: it is also affection, gestures of love that today are expressed with a special naturalness —hands that meet, kisses, delicately thought-out gifts—, as if for a few hours love circulated normally through the streets. It is also affection for Catalan culture and for the city. And it is even a claim. This was recalled by Mayor Jaume Collboni at the traditional writers' breakfast: "Sant Jordi is tradition, but it is also a reminder that culture can be a powerful weapon".
And this was also demonstrated by Ali Smith, in charge of this year's Sant Jordi Proclamation, who took the opportunity to vindicate the work of libraries: "Without libraries we would wither. I suspect I am 75% made of books". An idea that was also visible on the street, with professionals wearing protest t-shirts in defense of the work of libraries.
Between gestures of culture and demands, between books, voices and full streets —and the multiple layers that make Sant Jordi a celebration difficult to define under a single concept—, the diada faded when the day came to an end. But the feeling does not disappear: it blurs, like pollen, and remains in the pages signed by the authors, in the affection suspended in the air, in the city and in the immediate memory of those who have experienced it.