Emili Teixidor defined life as a deadly sexually transmitted disease. In other words, all lives begin and end in the same way, but that does not prevent each one from being different.
That of Francesc Castanyer Figueras (Girona, 1916-Barcelona, 2022) has been long and fruitful. When I met him, already retired, he came to the meetings of the International Palindromic Club founded by Josep Maria Albaigès and Ramon Giné, and we were amazed with his incredible collection of puzzles. He also kept bibliophile treasures inherited from his father, such as some first editions dedicated to the poet Josep Carner. His sister Maria Castanyer (Girona, 1913-Blanes, 2003) won the Natural Flower at the Exile Floral Games in Paris in 1959. When Castanyer reached his fourth (and penultimate) age, he donated the puzzle collection to the Museu del Joguet de Catalunya, in Figueres, and settled in a residence.
I started publishing articles about him to celebrate his palindrome anniversaries: 99 and 101 years. In 2017, on the way to the 102, I encouraged the Argentine filmmaker Tomás Lipgot, originally from the palindromic town of Neuquén, to interview him to include him in his documentary film ¡Viva el palindromo! (2018), where there is also a recording of the Argentine writer Juan Filloy (1894-2000), author of the Karcino treatise on palindromology and dozens of works with a seven-letter title (Estafen, Op Oloop, Caterva...). Filloy, Borges' teacher, died fifteen days before turning 106 (1 0 6=7).
After the two capicúas articles, every February he informed me about the state of Castanyer to dedicate another column to him, always thinking that it would be the last. Friends like Joan Josep Isern or his nephews (now retired) like the linguist Teresa Maria or the Benedictine monk Jordi gave me their faith in life and I was looking for a reason to congratulate him with another Runrún, to the point of completing a thread worthy of Twitter.
Castanyer surpassed the Licor 103, the 104 years of doctor Moisès Broggi or the actor Kirk Douglas, RAC105 and the 106 years that Juan Filloy did not reach by very little. In three months he would have turned 107. In the last e-mail he sent me, when he could still read, he joked about the doctors because they couldn't tell him how badly he was going to die. All humans begin and end with the same palindrome: "Un cos soc nu" (I am a naked body).
