Three good Catalan writers who shun fame

BarcelonaFame was not viewed negatively in the centuries of the classical cultures of Greece and Rome – anyone will read that. Aurea dicta, like the one that was published in the Bernat, Doctor—but it began to be viewed with suspicion from the Renaissance onward. Erasmus and Montaigne, from the final period of humanism, did not appreciate it. Perhaps the phenomenon has to do with the fact that the printing press had made books available to many readers: quantity makes more noise than quality.

Among contemporaries, KafkaMusil and Broch despised fame and kept it to themselves; on the contrary, Thomas Mann (Like Goethe) she longed for it, and Proust more than we think. Virginia Woolf didn't care.

Fame is usually achieved motu proprioThat is, when the author pursues it himself, bending over backwards wherever he's asked, and even when he isn't. Today, it's incredibly easy to fill social media with news about oneself, which, all together, ends up possessing the weight of glory: whether the author deserves it or not. (On the other hand, how many readers today are capable of discerning between a good book and a clumsy one, and wrinkle their noses when they see an author they consider weak achieve gigantic fame?)

television, suspicious of any outburst that might ultimately, as often happens, distort the true value of their work. They are solitary people, fond of the discreet comfort of home, walkers without company, not fond of gestures, silent workers, demanding, good at knowing themselves... and the banality and lack of foundation inherent in common opinion. We'll mention three, for their comfort, assuming they need it: Miguel de Palol, Ramon Solsona and Eduard MárquezThey are a significant example. They are good writers; they know their strengths and weaknesses, and they have more respect for that inner awareness than for those who revel in fame, which comes from outside.