I’ve been Barcelona dreaming for over a year now, since canceling a trip to Spain and Portugal last year due to the pandemic. Since the blurb promised that this is a love letter to Barcelona, from the days before the financial crash of 2008,(Thomson lived there in the early aughts), I especially was eager to immerse myself in the narrative. That, and I remember his delightful KATHERINE CARLYLE. Thomson has a wistful clarity of voice and haunting atmosphere, which hooked me in straight away. BD is more of a triptych of novellas more than it is a novel. The stories connect to each other via slender threads, generally by a major character being minor in the other stories. Thomson’s gentle storytelling is often elusive, creating space for the reader to interpret the unsaid.
In “The Giant of Sarriá,” a divorced English woman, Amy, meets a Moroccan immigrant half her age, a beautiful man named Abdel who she hears one night crying in the darkness. They embark on an affair, and he shares secrets with her about himself. His ethnicity instigates a snowball of tragedy. In “The King of Castelldefels,” an alcoholic has-been musician, “Nacho,” (Ignacio) continues to sabotage his relationships due to his unrelenting blackout drunk episodes. Finally, in The Carpenter of Montejuïc, a young Catalan literary translator, Jordi, continues to hope for the impossible--that his unrequited love interest, Mireia, changes her mind about him. In the midst of this is an enigmatic carpenter/artisan, who makes furniture that practically glows with its wood origin history.
I just gave the bare minimum of each novella. What appeals most to me is the author’s ability to empathize with vastly different characters throughout, although one racist gets more (deserved) judgment than empathy. What did slightly disappoint me is that I didn’t feel the texture, atmosphere, and setting of Barcelona beyond some details of specific places (and some areas were actually on Barcelona’s outskirts). I say this because I have been swooned by novels that describe a foreign city that I haven’t been to, and portray it so well that I feel installed there, and I can visualize it. But there is some magic at times, like the view from the Ronda Bridge, the miasma of “exhaust fumes mingled with frangipani.”
This is a quick read, and, at times, an almost hallucinogenic quality pervades the book, especially in the last story, with the mysterious and intimidating carpenter. And the author includes a Barcelona Soccer celebrity, Ronaldhino, which bridges fiction with reality, and adds to the narcotic effect, specifically to Nacho’s life, as others find him unreliable and a dreamer without much substance. The stories left me with more questions than answers, yet it also carried me away with its hypnotic events and alliances. Thomson also has a sly sense of wit. Recommended for literary readers.