Finally, La Pedrera brings us an exhibit we can really sink our teeth into. Aristide Maillol (1861-1944) was a scupltor, painter and visionary. Unlike a lot of those confrontational artsy types of the twentieth century, Maillol was a man who knew what his audience liked and gave them lots of it.

Originally from Rousillon (French Catalonia), Maillol moved to Paris in 1881 and became friends with art badboy Paul Gauguin. While Gaugin passed his time painting nubile Tahitian girls, he encouraged Maillol to take up the gentler art form of tapestry.

Novelist Eduardo Mendoza, one of the brave few who are not afraid to mix philosophy with faecal-based humour, is finally publishing a book of short stories.  Having written God knows how many novels — Sin noticias de Gurb, La aventura del tocador de mujeres, El asombroso viaje de Pomponio Flato (to choose the raunchiest ones, each populated with slightly different versions of his standard Torrente-esque anti-hero) –, newspaper columns in El País, and even a play for the theater- Restauració- in Catalan, he now gives us Tres vidas de santos, …