Witch Market Barcelona is an annual event that takes place on a weekend in late November or early December in the historic building of the University of Barcelona, in downtown Plaça Universitat. This singular building, the work of Elies Rogent i Amat, has been in use since 1871, having been designed in 1861 applying the German architectural style of the Rundbogenstil. With its late Gothic vibe, walking into the UB building almost feels like stepping into Hogwarts, the school of magic from the Harry Potter universe. It’s the perfect backdrop for the whimsical, fantasy-themed market at the heart of the festival, which gives the event its name
Witch Market actually started back in 2016 as Potter.con at the Espai Jove La Fontana in the Gràcia neighbourhood of Barcelona. Soon enough, the organizers decided to change both the name and the venue, broadening the scope beyond just the world of J.K. Rowling to encompass fans of all kinds of fantasy. Now, visitors can enjoy not just the market, but a range of fan-driven activities—some organized by groups or associations, others offered by individual participants (as it is my case). As a mini convention, it’s no surprise to see plenty of fans dressed up as their favourite characters (witches, of course, are a big hit). It’s especially heartwarming to see kids, toddlers, and even babies cosplaying alongside young parents, passing on their love for fantasy.
I met one of the organizers, Sofia de Juan, as part of the organizing committee of Eurocon 2016 held in Barcelona. In fact, Potter.con was held in September 2016 (3-4), while Eurocon took place in November (CCCB, 5-6). I don’t remember if I myself proposed my participation or if I was invited by Sofia. The fact is that I gave a talk at that Potter.con about Sirius Black, based on an academic article that at that point had already been rejected by six journals and that is now a chapter in my book Representations of Masculinity in Literature and Film: Focus on Men (2020). The reaction of the audience was good, and the following year, 2017, I joined the first Witch Market with a talk about the villain of the Harry Potter series, Voldemort. In subsequent editions (there were none in 2020 and 2021, due to the pandemic), I talked about three more characters from the same series—Prof. Snape, Merope Gaunt (Voldemort’s mother), the witch Bellatrix—but also about Morgoth, the great villain of Tolkien’s The Silmarilion, and, this past Saturday, about Katniss Evergreen, the heroine of The Hunger Games, as a final girl.
I prepared this last talk thinking it would be my final one at Witch Market for several reasons. For one, my Harry Potter talks were originally a birthday gift for my niece, Lola, with whom I shared the series. But now, like me, Lola feels a strong aversion to J.K. Rowling’s transphobia, so we both agreed it was time to move on. Lola isn’t a big fan of fantasy either, so my motivation to continue these talks has faded. Last year, I invited my rather perplexed mother to my talk on Tolkien (she knew next to nothing about him), as she always complains that, because I teach and write mostly in English, she never really gets to learn about my interests. This year, I invited a friend, but she couldn’t make it. The downside of having guests is that it limits my time to take part in other activities at the festival. At least this year, I managed to attend a fascinating interview with dark fantasy author A.M. Strickland.
Another reason for stepping back from Witch Market talks (which I give for free, for the love of popularizing research) is that, as I’ve mentioned, I feel increasingly out of sync with the latest trends. This year, Sofía de Juan forgot to mention to me that the theme was romantasy—a genre I don’t read nor care much for—so my talk on The Hunger Games felt a bit off-topic, though I’d planned it without knowing what else was on the programme. I am a reader of science fiction rather than fantasy and, in any case, I would not want the yearly Witch Market talk to require extra reading and excessive preparation time. The idea is to disseminate knowledge about what I already know.
In short, I went in to give my talk about Katniss sure that I was closing a cycle, but I left with the public’s request to continue. It turns out, and this is the most peculiar thing, that I have fans who come to my talks year after year. I give these talks in the building’s Aula Magna, which seats 150 people, and it’s usually full. Not only does my audience like to listen to me, but they also like to talk to me. I always leave about 10-15 minutes for Q&A, but this time my talk was a bit shorter, and we debated for about 20 minutes on whether Katniss makes the right decision by not executing President Snow but (spoiler alert!) the new president, Alma Coin. We would have been at it a good while longer if it weren’t for the rush to finish before the next session.
By the way, I chose to speak about Katniss because last year, my audience requested it. I hadn’t planned to ask them for input this year, but a small group of people came up afterward reminding me that I should—so I listened. Now I’m torn between talking next year about science fiction or, more likely, classic fantasy cinema.
Among the audience this past Saturday was a former student from twenty years ago and a current student from my Contemporary English Literature class. The former was kind enough to say that I look the same (I don’t believe that…) and that my teaching style hasn’t changed at all (hopefully!). My current student was a bit confused because my speaking style during talks is so different from my usual classroom approach. As I explained to him, the audience makes the difference, not me. And that’s where I wanted to go with this: attending Witch Market every year (this was my seventh time) gives me a chance to experience what I wish could happen in class—an audience that listens attentively, laughs at my jokes, engages in lively debate, and asks for more. Of course, as I told my current student, the laid-back festival atmosphere, the timing (Saturday at 5:00 p.m.), and the context all play a huge part in making it feel so energizing. Teaching on a Monday at 8:30 a.m. is not ideal for anyone, whether teachers or students.
I fully acknowledge the unique conditions of Witch Market and what it’s like to speak to an audience that I needn’t grade and that is already 100% on board with the topics I’m discussing. But the fact remains: I often leave Witch Market feeling like I could take on the world, while leaving class rarely has me feeling the same way. Some days, I’m just ready to draw a thick veil and forget. I’m sure there’s some lucky teacher on planet university for whom every class is as energizing as a Witch Market talk is for me, and if they exist, I envy them. I had that kind of experience for a semester in 2013-14 when I taught Harry Potter, and my students reacted just like my Witch Market audience. Sadly, I can’t recreate that anymore because of Rowling’s transphobia (which, as noted, has turned me off the series), and I can’t think of any other text that would have the same wide appeal across generations. Star Wars came close, but I can’t see myself dedicating an entire subject to it.
I think students don’t know that it’s in their power to make teaching work much better. I don’t complain at all about my current students, with whom, in addition, I talk a lot. While they interact with each other for half an hour each class, I move about the classroom to start brief conversations about the books they read. There is a good atmosphere in class, much better than in previous years (I am thinking of the years after Covid-19), but there is also a difference in interests that I cannot erase. Whoever comes to my talk at the Witch Market, comes 100% ready to learn from me and that generous willingness gives me wings to speak with enthusiasm and gusto. Faced with a class that is not necessarily interested in literature, and that has to attend several more classes on the same day, and so on from Monday to Friday, it is much more difficult to maintain my enthusiasm (it can even ring hollow).
I accept, then, the limitations of university teaching, but I see now that it would be absurd to deprive myself of the little pleasure of speaking every year at Witch Market. I realize that among the reasons that made me think about leaving the talks, I have not mentioned perhaps the main one: the affectionate response of the audience, for which I am deeply grateful, is not the response I get at the university. Each talk is a beautiful but bittersweet reminder of what university teaching could be like, but is not, for whatever reasons. I know that it is not a personal issue, and I also know that there will always be students who simply dislike certain teachers, and that things would be very different if all subjects were optional (compulsory subjects are where more resistance is found). But, well, things are what they are, and after 34 years of teaching I have no choice but to try to reproduce in the classroom the spirit of the Witch Market talk before a very different audience and hope for the best.
Too bad Rowling has spoiled her legacy, because Harry Potter could have given me many more happy hours as a teacher. And it is sad to think that no other text, either past or current, can generate the same general interest among broad layers of the various generations. The Star Wars saga came close to it, but I don’t see myself and never have turning it into the object of an entire (elective) subject.
See you next year, dear Witch Market audience! That’s for sure.