The day before yesterday was Saint George, patron of Catalonia for many centuries. I think it was in 1456 – I'm very bad with dates – that he was proclaimed. Saint George was Greek and was a Roman soldier, with rank, I think he was a tribune. When Diocletian gave the order to persecute Christians, George refused, saying that he too was a Christian. The emperor became enraged and condemned him to death. Legends began to be woven about the martyrdom of the future saint. What seems to be true is that he was beheaded. He soon began to have many devotees and Emperor Justinian built a church over his tomb. Devotion to the saint spread throughout the eastern empire. When the Christian crusaders went to the East, they found a deep-rooted and vibrant devotion. Richard the Lionheart took it to England and now Saint George is the patron saint of there, as well as of other Western countries. In Rome, a beautiful basilica was built in his honor, San Giorgio in Velabro. In Venice, San Giorgio Maggiore, on the island that bears his name, with a church built by Palladio. The Venetian Republic gifted a fragment of his relic to the Catalans, a relic that is preserved in the chapel of Sant Jordi in the Palau de la Generalitat. And since April is the month of roses, the saint's feast day became associated with the rose, and boys gave roses to their sweethearts. And they still do.
it had always been the day of the book and Sant Jordi got in thereit had always been the day of the book and Sant Jordi got in there” is not true at all. It had always been Saint George and the book got in there much later. He also said, this famous Spanish writer, making one of the boutades for which he is so fond, that Saint George did not know how to read and that he was an animal abuser. Let's see who can top that! I believe that a Roman tribune knew at least a minimum of Latin — and perhaps Greek too — and that this business with animals comes from the story of the legendary dragon. I believe that a Roman tribune loved his horse, at the very least.
The legend of the dragon, which in Catalonia we have placed in Montblanc, is a simple legend like so many that refer to saints. You already know it, and I will not go into detail explaining it. A toothed dragon claimed two sheep every day and the citizens of Montblanc gave them. But sheep became scarce and then they added people. They did it by lot. Until one fine day it was the turn of the king's daughter, who was very young and beautiful and a maiden — of course!— and the girl was so lucky that Saint George was passing by and confronted the dragon and killed it. Anyway, very nice, but a legend like so many others. Sometimes we have changed the dragon for a spider, because as it rhymes with Spain, we could make all the word games you want.
Another legend from April is the one that refers to Salvador Espriu. It was explained to me the other day. It seems, they say, that a letter from the poet has appeared, addressed to his lawyer, telling him that he wanted to be cremated and that in no way did he want to be buried in the cemetery of Arenys de Mar. This perhaps is true. The legend is that one day, let's say in April, the poet went for a walk with some friends and they went up to the cemetery. The cemetery of Arenys is very beautiful, you know, and if you have never been there I recommend a visit. But it turns out that, next to the cemetery, some disproportionate, dreadful apartment blocks had been built. The tourist boom, immigration… Espriu, when he saw them, was horrified, and uttered that famous phrase that has become a legend: let them bury me wherever they want!
