La Alberti, the Alberti bookstore, shines with its tiled floors on sunny Saturday mornings. It is in one of these streets where Madrid is dying that the trade of muses and their receivers “gathers”, and it is then that the bookstore is like a coastal lighthouse, like these little lights which illuminate literature and the landscape and the urban countryside. . Its owner, Lola Larumbe, prescribes books, advises, and also her employees, when you enter a veritable cathedral of words and want to spend your daily salary on books: a vice like any other. The new releases, the classics, all the volumes are placed millimetrically on the shelves; There is everything and there is something for everyone. Thus the bookstore gives light to old Argüelles which becomes darker towards Ferraz. And I’m not talking about politics. Opinion Related news Yes The first snow Jesús Nieto Jurado Navacerrada becomes deserted and under the French Bridge only catfish with parpusa, boobies and two ducks from the Sailing of the Tropics We remember one of these literary meetings, at which he participated, I seem to remember. , Armando Lopez Salinas. Masters like Antonio Soler usually go there to present their latest works or simply to see and contemplate. From the small window of my house, open in summer, we saw, on a warm spring afternoon, Vargas Llosa and Preysler, look how old they are. Or Zapatero, last Saturday, in chamois and accompanied, and the one who did it – in ZP – in Venezuela, on the banks of the Orinoco. The bookstore is in front of my humble abode, and sometimes, with a drug addict, I stand at night in front of the window as Ottis Reding sat on the bay quay. I then imagine what it would be like if I started writing the great Madrid novel. It’s a bookstore where the impersonal has no place; perhaps the city, for its vitality, had to reward it. This is the new Café Gijón. A man who looks like Balzac passes by and an essay talks to me about Madrid as a global city. I have read everything, but my flesh is not yet sad. MORE INFORMATION news Yes News Torrentera Yes Any morning It’s the bookstore that is moving an entire neighborhood, the Argüelles that are dying. And the bookstore as a pole of attraction, even with bullets in the windows of those who wanted to bloody the Transition with a “beretta” or with chains. We don’t see electronic books in the Alberti: let the flavor of a page remain, the roar of a bag with the dove that the poet from El Puerto de Santa María painted. Dealing with neighbors who read. And Zapatero with his eyebrows looking for something to sleep well with his mature consciousness of Bambi: a “Benedetti” or something like that.
