Dying on Resurrection Day fits well with Josep Piera's way of being, and of doing things. He wasn't exactly an optimist, but a militant and recalcitrant vitalist, possessing a wisdom that was only partly learned from books. He had read them all, the books, but Josep Piera's knowledge went further: it was an ancient and deep knowledge, and it was based on a fascination with nature and with people. Josep Piera knew that joys followed sorrows, and vice versa, and that it was in vain to dramatize, gesticulate, and lament in corners. At the same time, he was passionate about everything he loved: friends, rice dishes, long conversations, literature, the Catalan language, La Drova, Gandía, Valencia, Barcelona, Mallorca, the Catalan Countries. Ausiàs March, the Andalusian poets, Naples, the Middle East. Italian pop music, British, French, Italian, and Hollywood cinema, the transition between the Renaissance and the Baroque. Marifé. Melania.He never called himself a patriot, he never gave lessons to anyone about anything, and he never rejected anyone, no matter where they were from, whatever god they had, whatever language they spoke. For that very reason, he, and his wife, Marifé Arroyo, the teacher, are cornerstones in the defense and dignification of the Catalan language. They were in the militancy and resistance for Escola Valenciana, in the eighties, but also today, when they have received recognition and awards and have put them at the service of more militancy and more resistance, now that they are more necessary than ever.Josep Piera is an excellent writer, one of the greats of Catalan literature, and the reader will do well to approach his work, both in verse and in prose, with the disposition to breathe well. With their lungs, but also with their spirit. Read the volume of Complete Poetry, read diaries such as Ací s'acaba tot (republished recently by the young publishing house Cap de Brot, where he speaks precisely of illness and death, of living within a fragile body like his), read the recent Tot són ones (we speak here), read mythical titles such as Seduccions de Marràqueix or El cingle verd, read his wonderful memoirs (formed by the books Puta postguerra, Els fantàstics setanta, and Canvi de rumb) or treatises on hedonistic erudition, or erudite hedonism, such as El llibre daurat. The history of paella as it has never been told.The parties in La Drova, the after-dinner conversations in the shade of the green rock that gives its title to another of his great books, where we laughed until we hurt, his deep voice, the convoys, the sparkle in his eyes when talking about his own books and those of others, the inexhaustible hospitality and generosity of Pep and Marifé, are things that we friends will miss. But in these new dark times that he deplored, but faced with his usual serenity and a slightly roguish smile, Josep Piera will be greatly missed by all of us, even by those who do not know that he is missed. You have brought light to the country and to the lives of many people, Pep. Now speak, laugh, sing, celebrate, forevermore.
