Jordi’s Day: A Gay Tale of Intrigue, Fantasy & Love in Barcelona (An Introduction)

I wrote this intro when I published Jordi’s Day a couple of years ago but then cut it because I found it pretentious. The other day I was cleaning my memory (!) and found it again. This time I liked it. While it does set up the story, the thing that struck me was my own enthrallment. Yes, there was a man involved but Barcelona already had me by the balls. Many writers, all greater than me, have written about their infatuation with this beguiling place. Here's proof that even a common mortal can get sucked in.
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“If you have visited Barcelona you will know its splendors. Perhaps you’ve followed the Ramble’s undulating promenade from Plaça Catalunya all the way down to the thin ethereal bridge that leaps across the harbor like a brush-stroke. Or you’ve lost your way in the Barri Gòtic's maze of medieval streets that appear and disappear without ever seeming to begin or end.

If you’ve strolled on Passeig de Gracia, the elegant 19th-century boulevard, you will have admired the exuberant mansions that rise from its broad, blue sidewalks. You may have even stopped at the pastry shops that dot every corner, their storefronts as delectable as their goods.

If you’ve seen photographs, you will recognize the dizzying structures that Gaudi built, the dramatic architecture of the Olympic port, the monumental fountains of Plaça d’Espanya, and the blinding-white contemporary art museum that looks as if it has been surgically inserted into an ancient neighborhood. You will have seen pictures of fortresses and churches hovering over the city’s low discreet skyline like castles in a storybook plain.

This is the Barcelona of daring and imagination. A bold self-assurance can be seen in every aspect of public art and architecture, and heroic representations of nationalist ardor infuse everything from medieval iconography to modernist obsessions.

Yet, no matter the medium or era, one figure is always present, Sant Jordi. The ancient knight is celebrated in Catalan painting, sculpture, and song. Images of Sant Jordi can be seen throughout the city. Public institutions, cultural events, and even a national holiday take him as their patron. Some say he’s a localized version of Saint George, others that he's a modernized version of a medieval warrior-king. Whatever his origins, Sant Jordi is Catalonia’s face to the world and he is always subduing the dragon.


There is, however, another Barcelona and another patron saint.

Santa Eulalia was born into a wealthy family long ago. She lived in the fashionable town of Sarria, now Barcelona’s most exclusive suburb. Her first language was Catalan but, given the times, her Latin was undoubtedly perfect. A progressive young woman, she had been attracted to the new ideas circulating among her peers and had been an early convert to Christianity. She was, however, ahead of her time and was arrested, tortured, and killed by the Romans. Unfortunately, in the bad timing that seems to plague the city, all this occurred not too long before the Romans themselves became Christians.

Santa Eulalia’s bones have been often moved throughout the centuries but for now rest in the crypt underneath the altar of the Cathedral. For a few euros, you can flood the crypt with light — for thirty seconds flat.

When you walk the old city streets you have to look carefully to find traces of Santa Eulalia. Her icons exist but they’re either small or out of the way. She is not quite a secret — her sufferings are legendary — but martyrdom is a double-edged sword, winning her a place in heaven but taking away everything else. City records reveal that she, and not Sant Jordi, is the city’s patron saint but there are no public festivities dedicated to Santa Eulalia.

If you come to Barcelona, leave the beaten path. Go out at dusk when the sky’s dazzling light gives way to the shadows that inhabit every Plaça and Carrer. Look behind the brilliant ceramic façades to see the modest clay bricks underneath. Don’t trust appearances. Take nothing for granted. As you wallow in the glories of the past ask yourself why, in this two-thousand-year-old city, entire centuries have barely left a trace. If you can only read about Barcelona, read between the lines and get a second opinion. Inscrutable Barcelona has many mysteries. This is only one of them.”