Spring had a price

It seems that these days we have once again had a bit – too much – of cultural controversy following the publication in Spanish of what we now consider to be Mercè Rodoreda's best novel. David Uclés, the recent star of Spanish literature (he has sold thirty editions of his first novel, and the second, winner of the Nadal prize, is selling quite well) writes an epilogue and even illustrates, rather unattractively, the cover of the work. Some opinion leaders have decided to criticize the proposal, as if Catalan literature could not be prefaced by Spanish authors, even though it is Uclés' success that makes it tempting for his name to accompany Rodoreda's novel for Spanish readers. Uclés, whether one likes what he writes or not (and it must be liked, because it sells) can serve to attract readers, in a country, Spain, where neither Rodoreda nor any Catalan has had much literary fortune writing in Catalan (but not the Catalans who have written in Spanish, from Gironella to Cercas passing through Mendoza…). Uclés, however, is still a symptom, and now a symbol. It doesn't matter if his literature is weak –as the best critics point out–: it sells. And because it sells, he is then given a prize like the Nadal, because he had already made a name for himself, even though it is known that when he was nobody, he tried to win it several times. We already know how it works, then: a prize is given to someone because they are already somebody, not because they have written a good book (everyone says it's nonsense). Before, however, things didn't work like that. Publishers intended to direct the public's taste, not to satisfy it or blindly conform to it. Literature, or rather the world of commercial books, is just one more branch of the attention economy, which right now is also shaping culture. Who grabs attention? Who is being talked about? Who manages to attract glances and focus conversations, or articles, even if it's to oppose them? Well, those we talk about manage to translate that attention into money, be it through literature or politics. This is trumpism, but it is also Rufián, who states these last days that he prefers to be on TikTok rather than in libraries; it is on TikTok where people spend more hours right now. And we know he is right, but at the same time we know he shouldn't be. There are very skillful people at knowing where to place themselves: they grasp what to say, what to do, with whom to relate to in order to capitalize on dispersed attention. Mendoza did it this week by speaking against Sant Jordi, and Uclés does it by approaching a reference that has never stopped being talked about: be it Rodoreda or a city of Barcelona reduced to a museum of cultural folklorisms, to t-shirt images, like the one he himself has created for the cover of La mort i la primavera. That all this be controversial or criticized favors him, curiously, needless to say much more than if it were excellent and, therefore, did not make anyone lift their eyes from the screen… Long live culture.