á held its 27th International Book Fair. Unlike the grand emporiums of Frankfurt and Madrid, where selling rights is more important than selling books, filbo is all about the merchandise.
In the early 1960s forward-looking government officials acquired a large piece of real estate south west of what was then the heart of the capital. This property, recognized by its iconic metal arch and built to host commercial expositions of all sizes, became corferias Bogotá, a public/private partnership that has endured for half a century. The book fair, filbo, has grown steadily over its quarter century and now fills all six of corferias’ pavilions, providing over 1,600 separate venues for publishers and book sellers to show their wares. While Colombian editorial houses predominate the event, publishers from other Latin American countries send representatives as well.
Each year the fair bestows the title of guest of honor to a country in the Luso-Hispanic world. In 2014 Peru received the designation and gave a very good account of itself. The Peruvian pavilion featured a display of photographic images taken by a well-known anthropologist, a carefully-chosen display of ceramic and textile handicrafts, and an inner room of books produced by a variety of scholarly and popular publishers. How the books were chosen was something of a mystery—visitors received no explanation—but they seemed to sell briskly.
For the past five years corferias has provided subventions to professions that offset their airfare to visit Bogota during filbo. Librarians from most major Latin American Collections in the United States, South America and Mexico have received these grants, some as recidivists. This year corferias also sponsored a breakfast that mixed publishers and librarians over coffee and eggs as a way of kicking things off.
The local press often laments that despite having produced a number of distinguished writers, Colombia is not a nation of readers. I wonder, given the global onslaught of digital media, if Colombian journalists doth protest too much, or if not too much, too soon. Librarians, booksellers and authors across the planet fret that reading has become a diversion exclusive to the senior set.
A week before the fair opened, Colombia’s most famous writer, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, died in Mexico City. The sure-footed organizers reacted quickly and filled the venue with tributes to “Gabo,” including a monumental screen print of the novelist fronted by a bouquet of yellow roses. Several books, including a recent translation of Gerald Martin’s biography, were on display. I suspect that many others will appear before the year is out, chronicles of a death foretold.
Peru’s Nobel laureate, Mario Vargas Llosa came to the fair as part of the Peruvian delegation. He and Garcia Marquez famously have not spoken for years. So it is an irony worthy of a novel that the two would share center state in Bogota. Vargas Llosa presented the keynote address, and tickets were as scarce as hen’s teeth. I did not get one, and I have not seen the speech in print. But I cannot help wondering how Gabo fared.