Homage to St. Jordi on this deserted 23rd of April
Over the course of the next few months, Oxford Urbanists will be publishing dispatches from around the world on what feels like an unprecedented era in modern history, both for cities and the world, during — and perhaps after — the COVID-19 pandemic. We want to know how cities are responding; what lessons we can learn for the future; and how we think cities might change indefinitely.
Roses decorate the streets in Barcelona on 23rd April 2019. / Photograph by Alexia Faus
Case Study: Catalonia, Spain
Once upon a time, on the 23rd of April, somewhere in the Tarragona municipality of Montblanc, St. Jordi plunged his sword into a fiery dragon, rescuing some high-maintenance damsel in distress who was about to be eaten alive. From the blood of the beast emerged a thorn of beautiful, lush roses. The gallant Jordi — George everywhere else — handed one of these to his betrothed (because getting saved by a knight in shining armour apparently meant consent to marry) before trotting off into the gleaming sunset. He left behind a legend that has, since 1456, become the most revered tale in Catalonia.
The 23rd of April is el Dia de St. Jordi: ‘St. Jordi Day’. It is much more meaningful than Valentine’s Day, and, to some, more important than Easter or Christmas. That is how anticipated this day is. It coincides with the International Day of the Book and the birth (and death) of Shakespeare. It is also the day Spanish author Miguel Cervantes, the mastermind behind the classic Don Quixote, died in 1616. This day of ‘love and culture’ is not a national holiday, but it is treated like one. St. Jordi is, after all, the patron saint of Catalonia.
Stalls selling roses spring up in all corners of the city, filling the streets with sweet scents of spring. Book booths with novels of times gone by line the busiest avenues. Poems are recited by emerging writers in squares. Public buses display small flags of proud yellow and red. Statues of dragons and princes commemorate exhibition spaces under a flawless, blue sky. Bakeries adorn their cakes, croissants and donuts with new colours and sugar crafts. Most people walk around with a rose – or two – in hand. Women were typically gifted a rose by their husbands and partners, while they gave men a book. The times have changed and now women get both. They receive roses from their fathers and their grandparents, their friends and brothers.
A stand selling roses on St. Jordi Day 2019 / Photograph by Alexia Faus
La Diada marks the beginning of spring. It is a national festival that forms one of the most important cultural events in the calendar. It dominates newspapers and television headlines every year. It is, as one site puts it, [a] ‘Barcelonian’s most cherished day’. But on this 23rd of April, in these deserted times, St. Jordi is not here. There are no roses to be bought. No new books to line our shelves. No literary exchanges to be had. No dancing and performing in the streets. At least not in person.
The City Council of Barcelona has organised a series of events and initiatives to keep the tradition alive. Residents have been encouraged to decorate their balconies with paper roses. The Barcelona Institute of Culture has set up a platform — ‘Sant Jordi: Llibres en Xarxa’ — to discuss new books and offer literary recommendations. Children have been asked to draw the cover of their favourite books and share them online. St. Jordi has said hello remotely, through a camera lens, but it is, of course, not the same.
Official image of the St. Jordi website of the City Council of Barcelona
This quarantine once more elucidates our need for human contact and outdoors life. Even in our age of mass digital consumption, one realises just how social we are when events like St. Jordi are so severely altered. Nothing can beat the ‘real thing,’ those small moments shared with people that nurture our souls and make life just a little more special. An online picture of a rose cannot replace the feeling of walking down ‘Las Ramblas’ with a rose in hand, arm in arm with a beloved. Scrolling through a book on a screen is not the same as flipping through a physical manuscript just signed by your favourite author. Decorating the home with paper maché dragons and knights cannot supplant the joy and excitement of watching a live parade depicting St. Jordi’s noble actions.
It would seem that Aristotle’s thoughts — “man is by nature a social animal” and “society is something that precedes the individual” — ring true now more than ever. And, of course, there are the economic repercussions, too. Millions of euros have been lost. Flower shops, libraries and bakeries have missed out on the most lucrative day of the year. They will struggle for the months to come, adding to the economic crisis from a pandemic that also forced the cancellation of the World Mobile Congress in Barcelona in February.
St. Jordi may come back this year, on July 23rd. If confirmed — and once cities re-open — Catalonia will celebrate this day in its full glory, the way it deserves. Until then, the roses and books will have to wait.
Like the rest of us.
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Alexia Faus Onbargi is the Europe and MENA Coordinator at Oxford Urbanists. Originally from Barcelona, she is studying towards an MPhil in Development Studies at the University of Oxford, and is a fellow of the ‘La Caixa’ Foundation (2019-2021). She has been published by the United Nations in Beirut, the Spanish newspaper La Vanguardia, and the Cambridge-based publication Manara Magazine.