Nov 16 2009

…with many questions.

how did we get here?

has the government broken its civil contract with the populace to remain civilized?

have we become a nation of “for the people or by the people”?

is the system broken or will it self-correct?

has reason been replaced with fear, secrecy, and blind faith?

my intention is not to become preachy and insist that this book has all the answers. but i have come away with one solid resolution. that we must decide for ourselves through research and reasoning what is the best course for the future. to not rely upon solely what we are told.

our local english news rag (much like the NewTimes, and such) called BCN Week has some pretty entertaining information on Barcelona, and keeps us feeling that although we cannot read the real newspapers we still get some news. well this week, they published these quite prophetic horoscopes. just a little insight, that living abroad has not been all lollipops and sunshine, and that i have fallen to relying on the supernatural for advice.

Leo – Ahh, you’re growing as a person, aren’t you? So sweet. Yes, I know it sucks that all this growth is oftentimes accompanied by screaming thoughts and tears, but just think about how much stronger you’re going to be. Reach into your back pocket and pull out a little more patience. You’ll soon see some delicious reward – perhaps not the reward you’d imagine, but reward just the same.

Cancer – Boy, did I ever get wasted last weekend. I got so drunk that I fell and hit my head against the floor so hard that I tasted metal. Thank god you were there to help me up. You’ve been doing that a lot recently, haven’t you? Reaching out to help others is a trait that too few of us polish to such a shine as you have. Keep up the good work, but can I suggest that you look to your left? There’s someone quite close to you who needs a hand, but you’d never guess it because they’re managing a dignified collapse.

actually the festival had a grand celebratory feel when you walked among the decorated streets and saw proud neighbourhoods showing their artistic flair, but along with parties come riffraff. the amount of people collected on the streets until the wee hours of the morning was staggering. most were young, maybe idealistic Catalans in whose spirit solidarity and anarchy have not died. i have never seen such a concentration of politically minded socialist youth. their handywork on the sides of buildings, bank windows, and store front security doors is an amazing feat of vandalism. slogans like “there is nothing to lose” “revolution” “bank tellers are capitalist pigs, burn your money” (I liked that one), “alcohol=liberty” (I am not sure what that means) and more have appeared in great frequency in the streets during the festival. ‘hammer and sickle’ and the ‘fist thrust towards the sky’ are images that have been stenciled everywhere. makes one think? what year is it? i am confused? well that may have been because my head was swimming from the political knot that Orwell was trying to unravel in 1937.

so not the best time to be reading such a book. but i couldn’t put it down. i have to say that i enjoyed it more than ‘1984′ and ‘Animal Farm’ (that may be because they were forced down my throat in school), but partly because i am now living where it took place. it could also be because i live in Catalonia, a part of Spain which has long been fighting for recognition. ask any local why the street signs, construction signs (anything official) are in Catalan not Spanish (Castellano) and you may be on the wrong end of a bitter tirade. people here are still very wary of anyone questioning their Catalonia (at the end of the Civil War, Franco outlawed books, art, and even speaking in Catalan).

please read the book. just don’t do it during a celebration in the heart of Catalonia. you should be out partying anyways.

Hidden in the heart of the old city of Barcelona is the “Cemetery of Forgotten Books”, a labyrinthine library of obscure and forgotten titles. To this library, a man brings his ten-year-old son, Daniel, one cold morning in 1945. Daniel is allowed to choose one book and from the dusty shelves pulls The Shadow of the Wind by Julian Carax. But as Daniel grows up, several people seem inordinately interested in his find. What begins as a case of literary curiosity turns into a race to find out the truth behind the life and death of Julian Carax and to save those he left behind.

i read the book in three days. sitting in cafes and squares in the city where it took place, i felt the story wrapped around me not only from the pages but in the smells and architecture of Barcelona.

but before you go out a buy it, please know that some of you may be receiving it as a gift (don’t worry it is translated into English). i think books are better when they are given and not bought. i must thank Monica for giving me this one.