There was a time when the discussion was "media personalities yes, media personalities no". So those of us who thought it was fine for the Belén Esteban of the time to come and sign (I don't know if she already existed as an "author," but, in any case, there would have been some celebrity from the gossip columns, with a newly published book) would say: "Baltasar Porcel is also a media personality, he writes a column in a newspaper every day." Twitter didn't exist. Those who said (there have always been them) that "Sant Jordi's Day should become the National Day of Catalonia" did so through an arduous letter to the editor. Authors who came to sign from other parts of the world (whether from Madrid or Amsterdam) were always surprised by the long queues for Catalan-language authors. Also by the unusual fact that among the most read books there could be short stories, not just novels.
Since '99, I have experienced the day from the authors' side. Being at a stand, pen in hand, and having a single, a single reader come up and say "I follow you" is wonderful. We are talking, after all, about books, and this is more miraculous than Jesus' first miracle, that of the wedding at Cana, which has always been my favorite miracle, precisely because of its literary aspect. In the Gospel of Saint John, it is explained that Jesus and his mother (important detail) go to a wedding in Cana and they run out of wine. The mother does what any artist's mother would do; she tells her son: "They have run out of wine." And he: "What does that have to do with me? My hour has not yet come." At this point, I always like to imagine a: "Oh, Mom...!" But the mother, as a mother, ignores him and tells the servants: "Do whatever he tells you." And Jesus, then, even though he was being reluctant, acts. He asks the servants to fill jars with water and take them to the "chief steward." That is, to the first sommelier in history. The sommelier tastes what they have brought him (I don't know if he centrifuges the glass or not) and congratulates the groom because "it is the best wine he has ever served."
Last year we were left without Sant Jordi. There were authors who released their first book and couldn't sign. This year, of course, they might not have a place at the stands, because there are new books. There have always been queues, they won't notice much difference, I suppose. Some years it has been hot, some even cold. And in all these years of normality, at noon, I have always skipped the editorial lunch and gone ---I suppose this year too--- to have a negroni or a margarita at the Dry Martini, the Ideal or the Boadas (where it is traditional to meet Núria Ribó with her friends). A little moment at the bar, nibbling crispy potato chips. Thinking about this strange holiday: we give each other books and roses. It's very powerful.