Barça have reached the Copa del Rey round of 16 after defeating Guadalajara 2-0 in a single-leg tie that had everything. From an unexpected starter to chaos in the stands. With no goals in the first half, strikes from Christensen and Rashford tipped the scales after the break in a match that started half an hour late due to a security issue in the stands that even threatened to be suspended. In the end, the home club managed to resolve the problem in record time.

In the essay Critique of the victimIn his book published by Herder, Professor Daniele Giglioli of the University of Bergamo describes how the victim has become "the hero of our time." Being a victim confers prestige, demands to be heard, promises recognition, generates identity, and immunizes against criticism. The victim, he says, does not act: they suffer; they do not respond: they are irresponsible. And, for that very reason, they are "the dream of any kind of power." It is no wonder, he concludes, that battles are being fought today to establish who is the greatest victim, who has been one before, and who has been one for the longest time.

It's not easy to get there. GuadalajaraWell, actually, it's not complicated, but it does require patience. Seven hours of waiting at Mexico City's airport, a surprisingly inhospitable place, because an airline has unilaterally decided to cancel our scheduled flight. It won't just be our team arriving from Barcelona a few days before the Guadalajara International Book Fair kicks off, where the city is the guest of honor. Unfortunately, many authors will find themselves in the same situation, and they will suffer the consequences. Special mention to the patience shown by David MoragasAfter a bumpy journey, he found all the joy in his participation in the book fair. He left happy after his "Echoes of the FIL," an activity involving some of the writers in the Barcelona program, which consists of visiting high school classrooms. Xavier Bosch smiled when I asked him how it went, and Miqui Otero explained that many students had greeted him in their pajamas, because in an interview he had explained that writing is 90% of the time spent in pajamas.

José María Murià is a curious case. Born in Mexico City in 1942, his native language is Catalan, which he has never stopped speaking and writing. But he is Mexican and a Mexican nationalist. His father, the writer and politician Josep Maria Murià i Romaní, who went into exile in 1939, had been a member of Macià's Catalan State and has a library in Guadalajara named after him; and the writer Anna Murià She was his sister. A member of the Mexican Academy of History and the Institute of Catalan Studies, José María Murià considers himself a native of Guadalajara, where he has presided over the Colegio de Jalisco. He has also held political positions, notably eight years in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. His influence was decisive in Catalonia being chosen as the guest of honor at the 2004 edition of the International Congress of Catalan Culture. Guadalajara International Book Fairand convinced then-President Maragall to make the pavilion exclusively Catalan, not shared with Spain. Two decades later, Barcelona had the same honor. The success of 2004 was key to repeating the operation at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2007. Murià is an expert on the history of Jalisco. He has now published a book in Catalan in which, through the lens of tequila, he explores the history of his country. Tequila (Base Publishing).

Why on earth is there such a sense of optimism in Guadalajara and Mexico? With limited public transportation, Guadalajara's traffic is chaotic. I ask a resident of Guadalajara about its dilapidated urban landscape, and they respond ironically, "Urban planning? What exactly do you mean?" The standard of living is low. Social problems are glaringly obvious. Cartel violence remains a menacing scourge. And yet... there's a palpable sense of hopeful optimism. What's going on? It can't be solely due to the International Book Fair (FIL), right?

A love ballad is playing in the taxi. Luis Miguel, one of the most popular icons of Mexican pop music of recent decades. The traffic is heavy, as it is every weekday mid-morning in Guadalajara, a city of more than one and a half million inhabitants preparing for one of its busiest annual cultural events, the International Book Fair.

When a public figure with more than six million followers expresses his opinion on social media, he must proceed with caution. Former Real Madrid player Javier Chicharito Hernández (1988) has been at the center of controversy for sexist statements on his Instagram account. The Mexican forward stated that women are "failing" and should allow themselves to be "led by a man who only wants to see them happy." Two days earlier, in another video on his social media, he questioned women who wanted a "providing man" but considered that "cleaning is patriarchal oppression." Sitting on the couch wearing a cap, the player begins to speak in these terms: "Women, you are failing and you are eradicating masculinity by making society hypersensitive. Embody your feminine energy by caring, nurturing, receiving, multiplying, cleaning, maintaining the home, which is the most precious place."