Como igual alguno pueda pensar que no soy muy objetivo en lo que se refiere a hablaros sobre las bondades y maravillas de las Jornadas de Avilés, he pensado que estaría bien reproducir en este espacio las impresiones de un señor que representa la esencia viva de las historias de superhéroes como es David Micheline.Aunque reproduzco al final literalmente las palabras de este genio del cómic, me he permitido hacer una pequeña traducción para los que, como yo, no estamos tan duchos en la lengua de Shakespeare. No me riñas mucho, Diego.
" Esto ... ¿¡¿es una convención de cómics?!?
Bueno , no, técnicamente era un * Festival * de cómic : las Jornadas Internacionales del Cómic de la Villa de Aviles , que tiene lugar todos los años en la pequeña ciudad de Avilés en el norte de España . Y son totalmente diferentes a cualquier otras Jornadas de cómics a las que haya podido asistir nunca .
Me han tratado muy bien este año en varias convenciones de mediano y gran tamaño ( Birmingham hola , hola Toronto) , pero compararlas con los que Avilés es como comparar las uvas y las fresas : ambas son deliciosos, pero muy, muy diferentes .
Para empezar, no hay un centro de convenciones en Avilés , la ciudad en sí es el centro de convenciones. No hay zona de distribuidores , ni cuota de entrada , ni ninguna insignia para agujerear tus camisetas. Hay un pequeño auditorio para las charlas, pero la mayoría de las interacciones tienen lugar en los numerosos cafés al aire libre , restaurantes y bares que salpican la zona .
El primer día que estuve allí, estuve caminando por una de las calles empedradas , cuando oí que alguien gritaba: " Dah - veed Mishileenee ? " ( He aprendido a responder a cualquier cosa que vagamente se acerca la correcta pronunciación de mi nombre. ) Me volví para ver un extraño sentado en una mesa afuera de un café , sonriendo mientras sostenía una pluma y un comic de Iron Man editado en rústica comercial . Cuando me senté a firmar el libro, el hombre me dijo ( en Inglés mucho mejor que mi comprensión lamentable de español ) que había estado leyendo mis historias desde que era un niño, y que si podía invitarme a un café ( La gente estaba constantemente ofreciendose a pagarme un café o un vino. Y , deseando evitar insultar a mis anfitriones , rara vez lo rechacé . )
Más tarde, yo estaba sentado en un banco de la plaza central , cuando una pareja de jóvenes se acercó y me dio la bienvenida amablemente a España. Eran originarios de España , pero habían tenido que mudarse a Manchester, en Inglaterra, y habían regresado específicamente para las Jornadas. Ellos se sentaron conmigo en el banco y hablamos durante casi una hora sobre cómics , política , economía y otros temas. Y así, unas personas que habían llegado como extraños, pasaban a ser amigos - cosa que sucedió mucho. Sin excepción alguna , todos aquéllos que conocí en Avilés eran personas amables, generosas , atenta y entusiastas, desde los organizadores de las Jornadas y fans, hasta el último vecino de la localidad .
Y por lo que al evento se refiere, era sobre comics. Sólo comics. No había estrellas de cine, personalidades de la televisión , figuras del deporte , jugadores, cosplayers... Todo estaba enfocado hacia personas que aman los cómics - que les encanta escribirlos , dibujarlos , o simplemente leerlos. El eje central era puro, y dio lugar a que se produjesen relaciones que hacía tiempo no experimentaba .
Así que, a mis compañeros de profesión en el comics , aquí les dejo un consejo: si alguna vez sois invitados a las Jornadas Internacionales del Cómic de la Villa de Avilés , no lo dudéis, no aleguéis problemas de agenda, sólo acudid . Luego podréis agradecermelo a la vuelta .
Y hablando de agradecimiento : a Jorge , Diego , Germán, Rocio , Roberto y la miríada de personas que ayudaron a hacer mi semana en España una experiencia verdaderamente memorable ... ¡muchas gracias , mis amigos !"
"This...is a comics convention?!?
Well, no, technically it was a comics *festival*: the Jornadas Internacionales Del Comic Ville De Aviles, which takes place every year in the small town of Aviles in northern Spain. And it's unlike any other comic book gathering I've ever been to.
I've been treated very well this year at several medium-to-large conventions (hello Birmingham, hello Toronto), but comparing those to Aviles is like comparing grapes to strawberries: both are delicious, but very, very different.
To start with, there is no convention center in Aviles; the town itself is the convention center. There's no dealers room, no admission fee, no badges to put pin holes in your shirt. There's a small auditorium for question-and-answer sessions, but most interactions take place in the numerous outdoor cafes, restaurants and bars that dot the area.
The first day I was there I was walking down one of the cobbled streets when I heard someone call out, "Dah-veed Mishileenee?" (I've learned to respond to anything that even vaguely approaches the correct pronunciation of my name.) I turned to see a total stranger sitting at a table outside a cafe, smiling as he held up a pen and an Iron Man trade paperback. As I sat down to sign the book, the man told me (in English much better than my pitiful grasp of Spanish) how he'd been reading my stories since he was a kid, and could he buy me a coffee? (People were constantly offering to buy me coffee or wine. And, wishing to avoid insulting my hosts, I rarely declined.)
Later, I was sitting on a bench in the central plaza when a young couple approached and politely welcomed me to Spain. They were originally from Spain themselves, but had moved to Manchester in England and had returned specifically for the comics festival. They joined me on the bench and we talked for almost an hour, about comics, politics, economics, and other topics. And thus people who had arrived as complete strangers left as friends--and this happened a lot. Without exception, everyone I met in Aviles was kind, generous, helpful and enthusiastic, from festival personnel to fans to local residents.
As for the event itself, it was about comics. Just comics. There were no movie stars, television personalities, sports figures, gamers, cosplayers. Everything was designed for people who loved comic books--who loved to write them, who loved to draw them, who loved to read them. The focus was pure, and led to a rapport I've rarely felt in recent times.
So to my fellow comics professionals, here's some advice: if you're ever invited to the Aviles Comic Festival, don't hesitate, don't check your schedule, just go. You can thank me when you get back.
And speaking of thanks: to Jorge, Diego, German, Rocio, Roberto and the myriad others who helped make my week in Spain a truly memorable experience...muchas gracias, mis amigos!"
Well, no, technically it was a comics *festival*: the Jornadas Internacionales Del Comic Ville De Aviles, which takes place every year in the small town of Aviles in northern Spain. And it's unlike any other comic book gathering I've ever been to.
I've been treated very well this year at several medium-to-large conventions (hello Birmingham, hello Toronto), but comparing those to Aviles is like comparing grapes to strawberries: both are delicious, but very, very different.
To start with, there is no convention center in Aviles; the town itself is the convention center. There's no dealers room, no admission fee, no badges to put pin holes in your shirt. There's a small auditorium for question-and-answer sessions, but most interactions take place in the numerous outdoor cafes, restaurants and bars that dot the area.
The first day I was there I was walking down one of the cobbled streets when I heard someone call out, "Dah-veed Mishileenee?" (I've learned to respond to anything that even vaguely approaches the correct pronunciation of my name.) I turned to see a total stranger sitting at a table outside a cafe, smiling as he held up a pen and an Iron Man trade paperback. As I sat down to sign the book, the man told me (in English much better than my pitiful grasp of Spanish) how he'd been reading my stories since he was a kid, and could he buy me a coffee? (People were constantly offering to buy me coffee or wine. And, wishing to avoid insulting my hosts, I rarely declined.)
Later, I was sitting on a bench in the central plaza when a young couple approached and politely welcomed me to Spain. They were originally from Spain themselves, but had moved to Manchester in England and had returned specifically for the comics festival. They joined me on the bench and we talked for almost an hour, about comics, politics, economics, and other topics. And thus people who had arrived as complete strangers left as friends--and this happened a lot. Without exception, everyone I met in Aviles was kind, generous, helpful and enthusiastic, from festival personnel to fans to local residents.
As for the event itself, it was about comics. Just comics. There were no movie stars, television personalities, sports figures, gamers, cosplayers. Everything was designed for people who loved comic books--who loved to write them, who loved to draw them, who loved to read them. The focus was pure, and led to a rapport I've rarely felt in recent times.
So to my fellow comics professionals, here's some advice: if you're ever invited to the Aviles Comic Festival, don't hesitate, don't check your schedule, just go. You can thank me when you get back.
And speaking of thanks: to Jorge, Diego, German, Rocio, Roberto and the myriad others who helped make my week in Spain a truly memorable experience...muchas gracias, mis amigos!"
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