This year I have been to the Setmana del Llibre en Català several times as a reader and, this Saturday, I will do so as a writer. The 300 stalls of books in Catalan are marvelous; the presentations and round tables of writers of all kinds, also those who perhaps pass by you and you don't know, but who write books in addition to signing them; I have been positively surprised by the crowded literary shows for children, away from screens for a while, and I have especially celebrated the almost absolute absence of tourists and expatriates, who we already know are not interested in Catalan in the slightest. What a different atmosphere from the one breathed at the multitudinous Sant Jordi, our Oktoberfest, without beer, our April Fair, without rebujito!
Although, on a personal note, the Setmana del Llibre en Català seems to me a much more propitious setting to talk and hear about books than the overwhelming Sant Jordi, we must recognize that, after a trajectory of more than four decades and a meritorious sustained growth, the Setmana is still a small and modest fair. Surely, because readers, and even more so readers in Catalan, are few, let's be clear. In this, the Setmana offers a fairly accurate photograph of the situation. Ilya Pérdigo himself, president of the Associació d'Editors en Llengua Catalana, has explained that one of the main challenges for the Catalan book sector must be precisely to gain readers. It is true that we already have a Pla Nacional del Llibre i la Lectura de Catalunya and I know that, under this umbrella, good work is being done, but I don't know if this will be enough.
That the Setmana del Llibre en Català, with its 60,000 attendees and a business volume of just over half a million euros, is "the great festival of the Catalan book" in a country of eight million inhabitants (more than ten, if we count the linguistic domain as a whole) is not precisely a reason to uncork cava bottles. I fear that the mere existence of the Setmana is clear evidence of our weakness. I cannot imagine a book week in Spanish, French, or English. Simply because in those lands, they don't need it. In Madrid, they celebrate the Book Fair, and it is understood that the language of practically all the books sold, presented, and dedicated is Spanish. I imagine the same happens in France or England. In this sense, I believe that the Setmana del Llibre en Català is not primarily a celebration, which it also is, but an act of resistance, of vindication. And here and in Popular China, as that one used to say, whoever is forced to resist and vindicate themselves is the weak one, the one who feels threatened, the one who is in danger and must defend themselves to try to survive.
It occurs to me that the Setmana could extend throughout the territory, through schools, high schools, and universities, through the squares of towns and cities, through libraries, through bookstores. But without losing sight of the fact that Barcelona should more decisively play the role that corresponds to it as the capital of this intangible Catalan country, without borders, rich in history and diverse accents, because it exists between the pages of the books of those of us who read and write in Catalan, whether we live on Enric Granados street, in El Pont de Suert, in Alicante, in Alcudia, in Perpignan, in Hong Kong or in Bogotá. This would indeed be a celebration.
For now, let's all go to the Setmana, because it is a bit our home, because, ultimately, Catalan is home.