From this ruling by the High Court of Justice of Catalonia against Catalan (I say “against Catalan” because it seeks to prevent our language from being “armored” in classrooms) a clear conclusion can be drawn: only a state of its own guarantees the legal protection that any official language has in its own territory. It shouldn't necessarily be this way: in a truly plurinational state, Catalan would be as Spanish as Castilian. But that's not the case, and I don't think I'm mistaken if I say it never will be. The only language we have a constitutional duty to know is Castilian. This is proclaimed by Article 3 of the 1978 Constitution, which at the end also states that “the different linguistic modalities of Spain” are a richness “that will be the object of special respect and protection”. Well, it's good that they protect Catalan!  

When the idea of writing about friendship was first beginning to float through her head, Marta Vives (Reus, 1976) came across an unusual story: that of two women, one with a terminal illness and the other with a magnificent house by the sea. The first was looking for a place to say goodbye to her family for a month, and the second offered her her home. They had never met, but in those four weeks, they became friends. "In an age dominated by social media, where it seems we all have a lot of followers, the idea of friendship is being perverted. It's a bond that, when it's true, you recognize perfectly. We define it from an intimate perspective, something like religion and faith," explains Vives, a writer and journalist for Catalunya Ràdio. That story between two strangers fascinated her, and she made it her own as one of the four stories in the book. You have the strength of all things (Now Books).