In the heart of the Freak Triangle

The phrase of the week explodes on Tuesday: "Only a psychopath cuts the cake like that." It's uttered by Cristina Macía , the Spanish translator of Game of Thrones , referring to Gigamesh's founder, Alejo Cuervo , who, to be honest, hasn't been very good with a knife when it comes to handing out the slices. It's a beautiful birthday cake, frosted with blue sugar, the same corporate cyan hue as the bookstore (and publisher), which opened its doors on June 10, 1985. The temple of vice and subculture is celebrating its 40th anniversary, shining as the centerpiece of the so-called Friqui Triangle, formed by Bailèn, Ali Bei, and Passeig Sant Joan streets, a couple of blocks where science fiction, comics, manga, role-playing games, and the best fantasy literature are concentrated. Macía, by the way, is wearing a white dress printed with red tentacles for the occasion, a very Lovecraftian motif.

Màrius Serra organizes an enigmatic challenge among his fans in the presentation of 'Paraula de verbívor'

I barely made it to the event, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted my colleagues Antonio Iturbe and Jacinto Antón in the crowd, diligently taking notes of the roundtable discussion entitled "Things That Happen at Gigamesh ," the kickoff to a month of festivities and various events surrounding the anniversary. During the discussion, there were many laughs, anecdotes, and a bit of nostalgia for a time when the fantasy phenomenon was so minor that not even the term "freakism" had been coined to define the passionate attachment it arouses among its followers. Writer Susana Vallejo recounts that there was no bookstore like it in Madrid in the early 1980s: "I came by bus, traveling from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.; the bus would drop me off near the store, and I'd wander around until they opened." Gigamesh was then located on Ronda Sant Pere.

The party ended with focaccia, cava, Sprite, and sandwiches galore, as if playing an endless game of Dungeons & Dragons. Joy floats in the air that the project continues with Iñigo Cuervo , the founder's son, and Antonio Torrubia , nicknamed the Bookseller of Evil .

On Wednesday, another gathering of geeks, affectionately put, gathers at the Casa del Llibre on Rambla Catalunya, drawn by Màrius Serra 's enigmatic work, The Magic Flute. The writer, who has been in charge of La Vanguardia 's "mots encreuats" (Spanish word puzzles) since July 1, 1990, when he took over from Tísner, attracts a crowd of fans of his linguistic games, so the room is packed for the presentation of "Paraula de verbívor" (Empúries), a selection of 2,025 verbal riddles. Among the audience is Enric Gomà , a keen dictionary reader.

In order to prove that "Catalan is sexy" and please his fans, addicted to the drug Enigmàrius ( Catalunya Ràdio's El Matí ), Serra organizes a sort of workshop competition. First, he explains some of the mechanics of his creation, like the magician who shows his paw behind the curtain, and then he launches a series of verbal riddles at the audience. Some examples (and we'll only mention those that are easy to translate into Spanish): a snake at the supermarket checkout? Snake. Identical to Jesus Christ? Nailed it. A Valencian woman who lives from bar to bar? Alacantina . The winners of the competition were David Arnau (a linguist in the audiovisual sector), Miquel Roig (a graduate in Communication Sciences) and Pitu Cors (a math teacher). The three gentlemen were given a copy of Verbàlia (Empúries), the reissue of a classic on the 25th anniversary of its release, a vademecum of linguistic contortions: palindromes, puns, lipograms, paronomasias.

Gigamesh, the temple of fantasy literature, celebrates 40 years on Bailèn Street.

Once the event is over, I stride into the Finestres bookstore, where a geek —spelled this time with a k, with a k for "kalamidad," to be kind—has poured a glass of coffee with milk over a pile of books about Palestine. They've put the thirty damaged volumes on sale, the proceeds of which will go to UNRWA (the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees). Not one remains.

On Thursday, at Casa del Llibre, again : Estel Solé , the recent winner of the Ramon Llull Prize, and sommelier and communicator Meritxell Falgueras pair wines and literature while discussing Aquest tros de vida (Columna). Hairy red Garnacha and sparkling Xarel·lo . During the toast, among bamboo and bougainvillea, mosquitoes riddle Solé (and me) in the bookstore's back garden.