Spain sort of shoulder shrugged their way through Cervantes' own 400th anniversary.

Cervnates is so sad, even his
mustache and eyebrows are frowning.

Not only does Spain contrast with England in weather, food, and attractiveness of its citizenry, it also contrasts in how they venerate their nation's most famous writer.

This weekend England nearly ground to a collective halt in adoration of their dearly departed Shakespeare for the 400th anniversary of his death. The Royal Mint released a coin commemorating him, monarchy praised him, and every cultural and public institution seemingly held an event to honor him. Things were as Englishy as England gets outside of a Monty Python sketch in the rain.

But just south, in Spain, the nation had to be tapped on the shoulder to be reminded that the 400th anniversary of Cervantes' death was occurring, too.

How badly was Cervantes ignored? Arturo Pérez-Reverte, one of Spain’s best-selling novelists, wrote online that the Spanish government's response was "the international embarrassment of the year of Cervantes." No major celebrations, no cultural standstill. An annual book award in his name was given out, but that's done every year with a collective yawn from the populace.

Admittedly, Spain is in the fifth month without an elected government, but there is a government nonetheless. That government simply just didn't make much ado about anything. Proof in point: A little over a year ago, Cervantes' body was discovered in a convent. Yet, according to the historian who led the search, Fernando de Prado, Spain has done "absolutely nothing" to promote the burial site.

José María Lassalle, state secretary for culture, explained to the New York Times the laissez-faire attitude to the anniversary as an attempt "to break with the philosophy" of the 1980s and 1990s when socialist governments heavily subsidized celebrations and strictly directed them. In 2016, it was supposed to happen organically.

Lassalle forgot that even organic things sometimes never grow.

Los Angeles Times critic asks if Shakespeare and Cervantes ever sort of had a connection.

"What would Cervantes do..."

Later this week is the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, which means all the crazy lovely little anecdotes and what the--? cute side stories are burrowing out of the woodwork to commemorate the Bard's life and work.

Cases in point:

NPR talks about Shakespeare's love of scenes based around large meals--mainly because people die shortly thereafter in his dramas. It's like your family's Thanksgiving if everyone gave in to the simmering turmoil over grandma burning the candied yams again.

The Guardian looks at "Bed tricks and broken women: Shakespeare's guide to love," in case you thought the glory days of romance involved bathing once a month.

And the Los Angeles Times resorts to daydreaming that Shakespeare is somehow connected to Cervantes.

It's true. Cervantes died 400-years ago this year as well. In fact, it was 400-years ago this week, too (although by different calendars--Julian vs. Gregorian--just play along). But the Spanish Cervantes and the English Shakespeare almost assuredly never met, one of the greatest shames in literary history. The closest connection ever posited is that an elderly Shakespeare adapted an early partially-translated segment of Cervante's Don Quixote and named the second rate play The History of Cardenio. And even that's a stretch connection.

That's it. That's the only relation between two of history's greatest writers who died nearly the same time, separated by a relatively small gulf of water.

And it's probably the only time Shakespeare's attempt at a similar work paled in comparison to another.

Prison is a great time to dive into self-help books, which is what El Chapo is doing these days.

Oh, no! El Chapo is in prison again!

When in prison a year ago, Mexican drug lord Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzman was granted weekly four hour conjugal visits, complete with prison-supplied Viagra. Guzman's long been labeled as highly sexually driven.

But after a brief escape--which included a male-enhancement surgery in Tijuana--and inevitable return to prison, El Chapo is being stimulated in different ways these days behind bars: He's reading books.

Now with his schedule cleared from exhausting, ahem, visits, El Chapo has reportedly read Cervantes' Don Quixote, as well as American evangelical pastor Rick Warren's The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here for?

Oooh, ooh, I know! I know! You're really terrible at evading capture!

One of Rick Warren's quotes from the book really rings true for El Chapo, specifically, "We are products of our past, but we don't have to be prisoners of it."

Well, clearly, in some cases that's not true.

But I'm guessing evangelical American pastors and lusty Mexican drug lords don't always run in the same circles.






Why a kitten? Because.

Nobody knows for certain where Cervantes is buried?

Go figure. Miguel de Cervantes--Spain's answer to England's Shakespeare, and most famously the creator of Dox Quixote and the first modern novel--was apparently buried without anyone knowing exactly where.

The belief is that Cervantes is buried somewhere in the walls or foundation of the Convent of the Barefoot Trinitarians, where a dozen nuns ranging in age from 23 to 92 live. The next logical question is why would Cervantes be buried in a convent? Because those same nuns helped negotiate his freedom when Cervantes, as a member of the Spanish navy, was kidnapped by pirates and held captive for five years. On his death bed, Cervantes wish was to be buried with the Trinitarians.

Fast forward 400 years, and no one is exactly certain where in the convent Cervantes is buried--if at all.

The convent's secretary, Maria Jose, tells NPR, "For 400 years, we have kept Cervantes' last dying wish, to be buried here. We have passed down the memory of the documents that registered his burial here, even though the documents themselves have all since been lost."

"Memory of documents" isn't the most helpful arrangement, so now scientists are utilizing ground-penetrating radar to find the body, using Cervantes own detailed history of his physical ailments, gunshots, and general wounds to identify the body. (After all, Cervantes had a rough go of it in the navy. He was shot in the chest twice alone.) If found, an excavation might occur, although ultimately the plan is to keep his body with the Trinitarians.

For that, Cervantes' dying wish remains.