The roast chicken is a good symbol. The first establishments that were established in Barcelona – the famous Piolindos de Sant Gervasi and the Mercat de Santa Caterina – were a dazzling success. After the hungry post-war period, it turned out that, for four bucks, you could go to a restaurant with a long bar, eat a quarter of a chicken with potatoes and some croquettes, with a glass of champagne. Or take it all home in a cute little bag. Chicken al ast is also an emblem of the free life of summer vacations, when there is no time or desire to cook. In short: roasted chicken represents the illusion of having freed yourself from food constraints and the yoke of work. It’s simple, cheap and brightens up your Sunday. To all, except those who are in charge of roasting them, who spend their lives surrounded by fats, skins, oils and drippings.
It is this sticky aspect of pollo al ast that has suggested to Alba Dedeu (Granollers, 1984) a part of the setting of La conformista, the first novel she publishes, after two books of short stories: Gats al parc (2011) and L ‘this isn’t over anymore (2012). The protagonists, a couple who have set up a barbecue chicken business, reek of barbecue: their hair, heavy band t-shirts, socks and underpants. The whiff reminds them every day of their unhappiness, the inability to live a better or more fun life. It is the price of a safe life, which goes through the successive phases of what is socially acceptable: from work to catechism for girls. In Catalan novels there is little talk about money. In this case it would be necessary to know why the protagonists get into this scam of chickens and why, once they get into it, they don’t know how to get out of it. I also would have liked the time in the store to be more important to the plot and explained more clearly. Chicken al ast is a Sunday meal. You don’t quite understand why the protagonists are so overwhelmed.
For this couple – Eva and Pere – there was a time when they were not “those kids from the chicken store.” They vacationed, went to rock concerts, fooled around. Adult life has represented a surrender. They arrive at night tired, they don’t fuck much, they talk little. Eva could be like Betti Klenze, Maria Braun’s friend from Fassbinder’s film when she says: “I don’t know how to do anything, I only know how to get fat.” At the boy’s parents’ house, in L’Estartit, they meet his brother Ramon, who is married or involved with a German woman. They are both dedicated to music and release albums. Eva sees in him what could have been. And she remembers that the day she met Pere, Ramon, who played in a group, threw his things at her. Some time later he hit her. Eva develops bad blood with the store clerk, who thinks she has had an affair with her husband, and she flirts very discreetly with a separated man because her wife didn’t stop working and they didn’t understand each other. A resigned life, with windows into jealousy, desire and remorse. The ordinary life of many people.
When girls grow older, the topic – which Marina Subirats addresses in her latest book – of the transmission of femininity appears. Women who have had to fight against mothers’ repression find that their daughters interpret as female empowerment what they considered a sexualized role imposed by the male gaze. “You are dressed like a bandarra” -Eva says to the eldest daughter-. “Quina mania amb les bandarres aquestes” – Mariona replies.
Things are not as they seem and suffering and mediocrity can also lead to a happy ending.
