Royal Tales

Today I’m going to profile a farmer from Spain, an autistic from France and what exactly these two people teach us. I’ll start this off with a recent find for me, the Spanish farmer named Justo Gallego Martinez, or simply Don Justo.

Don Justo is an aging man who, since 1961 has placed almost all of his energy into the construction of a cathedral. Of course, cathedrals are usually labored over for some length of time, many never to be completed before the death of their architect. La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona is a good example of this, it’s construction spanning at least one century and totally eclipsing the life of it’s creator, Gaudi, with no current completion date in sight. But what differs the cathedral that Don Justo is building from all the rest is that Don Justo is actually building it. By hand (almost).

The cathedral, which is dedicated to Nuestra Senora del Pilar, Madre de Jesus, is over 8000 meters squared, with spaces planned for cloisters, a library; and a 40 meter high, 12 meter in diameter dome based on St. Peter’s basilica in Rome is already taking shape. It’s plot is a small farm that he inherited from his parents in the town of Mejorada del Campo, about 20km outside of Madrid, some of which he sold in order to finance the construction of the cathedral itself. And although most of the work has been done by Don Justo himself, he has at times employed the help of volunteers and a private construction firm. However, almost everything has been paid from his own pocket.

In his younger days, Don Justo spent eight years as a Trappist monk, but was asked to leave before he was able to take his vows due to tuberculosis. He has no blessing from the Catholic church, no permission from the planning board of Mejorada del Campo, and to date no significant blueprints for the project. It is a continual “act of faith,” the design of which takes the shape of whatever moves him. It may take another 15-20 years before the final brick is set in stone, but in all actuality construction may end the day he dies.

While Don Justo has set every brick in his cathedral, what might be even more incredible is that one young French man by the name of Gilles Trehin has set every brick to every building in one of the world’s largest cities. That city is named Urville, population some 1.8 million (2004), some short distance from Nice, and exists entirely in Trehin’s mind.

Trehin has been drawing since the age of 5, at 8 he was diagnosed with autism, and since he was 12 (1984) he has been planning the city of Urville down to the ‘t.’ His website, the official site of Urville, is host to thousands of facts, historical and cultural briefs, economic profiles and even tourist information. Hundreds of sketches are available around the net, so incredibly detailed that it’s hard to believe Urville doesn’t exist. His only plans for the city are indefinite growth, and a ‘guidebook’ has been published for anyone who plans on visiting the fabled city.

Now while it may be obvious that Don Justo and Gilles Trehin are not your average people, both given the gift of extreme imagination, there is a bit more that can relate the two. You see, neither Justo of Trehin have any forseeable end to their muse. Justo knows that when he dies it is very possible for his cathedral to be razed to the ground, and while Trehin has left us an incredibly detailed history and city plan, the fantasticity (like that word?) of Urville will also die with him. Neither Justo or Trehin can possibly pass on the complexity of their vision, no matter how detailed or drawn out, because they know no end. At any point in time we can mark the specific shape either their ideas may take, but the second we look up, away from their work, we’re a thousand steps behind.

So what can their seemingly incessant need to create teach us? For one, the beauties of the infinite dream. Everyone has goals, some long, some short, tasks we can accomplish in a few minutes or a few years. But many goals coincide with our own inabilities to peer into the future, however many days, months or years away we can possible fathom. Now I’m not saying those particular goals, with definative endings, aren’t good, in fact they’re essential. They keep us going, keep us motivated. But when those goals end, it’s hard to create new goals; to have come so far only to have to start at zero and work towards an end again. That’s where Justo and Trehin’s way of thinking comes into play. There is no end for them, and while the journey is a bit daunting, and maybe even a bit scary, at the end of the day they’re working and living for something, and that is the beauty of the infinite dream.

For more on Urville and Trehin, you might try this video documentary, this Wisconsin Medical Society profile page, or you can order his guidebook from Amazon, and of course the aforementioned Urville Official Site.

For more on Don Justo, a brief can be found here, with some incredible pictures here.