Angel Guerra, part 5: the monster in a box and more footnotes

Continuing with discussion of Angel Guerra by Benito Pérez Galdós, done mostly through footnotes so far. I’ll continue the trend in this post, but first a note about the story…

In the previous post on the book I ended with the death of Angel’s daughter, Ción. By the end of Part One of the novel Angel has had three major losses: the death of his mother Doña Sales, the death of his daughter, and the loss of his daughter’s governess, Leré. It is interesting to watch Galdós take Angel through stages of grief for two of these losses. The only grief he has on his mother’s death was his guilt at precipitating the fatal medical attack. With Ción Angel showed an initial denial anything was wrong followed by anger, mostly aimed at the family doctor Miquis. The previous post went into detail on Angel’s bargaining with God, asking the Almighty to take his mistress Dulce instead of his daughter. After Ción’s death, Angel withdraws from his mistress, friends, and previous activities.

Compounding his depression was Leré’s announcement that she was leaving the house to join an order of nuns in Toledo. The grief cycle starts again as Angel figures out how much Leré means to him, a strange attachment that has little definable basis. She’s saintly while he plays at being a revolutionary. There is a little bit of their joint attachment to Ción in the attraction, but that isn’t a major component. Angel can’t figure out why he is so smitten with Leré—he doesn’t necessarily want a normal relationship as a couple. He seems happy to have just as a friend and confidant, at least for now. The depression he feels after she leaves causes him to drop everything and follow her to Toledo.

One of the strangest parts of the novel so far is Leré’s brother Juan. She described him to Angel as a monster:

”You’ve never seen him, if you had you’d be horrified. From the waist down he’s all skinny and soft, like he didn’t have any bones; he’s got the head of a man and the body of a child, and his arms and legs are like empty pillowcases. He’s twenty-five, he can’t even crawl, and if you could see him at the table where they’ve got him, with his arms and legs all jumbled up and his head in the middle, you wouldn’t even think he’s human. He eats like there’s no tomorrow, and he can’t talk—all he can do is grunt and growl like some animal, though he can repeat any piece of music he hears and get it right on key. Once in a great while you can see a little glimmer of intelligence but it’s so small it’s not even what you might expect to see in a cat or a dog.” (130)

Early in Part Two Angel sees the monster for himself and the animal imagery/comparisons continue:

On a not very tall little table were to be seen two coiled-up legs forming a circle, looking more like the tentacles of an octopus than the limbs of a person, and in the center a human head the size of an adult’s, with features to match. The gaze, albeit idiotic, was not lacking in sweetness, and was fixed in a stare on the unknown person comtemplating it. Limp hair covered parts of its skull, and long coarse hairs—so sparse they could be counted—grew on its face. After looking hard at Guerra the head straightened up, revealing a rachitic neck and sickly bust from which hung flaccid, seemingly boneless arms, like the legs. (255)

The comparison continues as Leré feeds and treats "the monster" just as she would a dog. But on to the footnotes. While there is plenty of humor in Galdós’ novel (as well as strangeness), there’s even a joke about the writing of it. After Galdós mentions that Angel figures out that he might see Leré, who is at a retreat with nuns from the order she wishes to join, by hanging out along Santa Isabel street, we get the following footnote on page 257:

It was on Santa Isabel that Galdós supposedly lived while writing Angel Guerra, and there is a commemorative plaque to this effect at the street entrance, though no one currently living around the interior courtyard seems have the slightest notion as to which rooms he actually occupied; recent biographical studies, moreover, suggest that he may not even have been in Toledo at the time in question.

I’m not sure why I find that so funny, but I do. The “recent” part would have been in the late 1980s since this translation was published in 1990. Anyone who read (or even started) Fortunata and Jacinta will remember that Galdós had some fun with chapter titles. After starting off slowly on the irony, in Volume III he uses the chapter titles to tie the fortunes of the Juanito Santa Cruz household to that of the changes in Spanish government, with "The Victorious Restoration," "The Revolution Fails," and "Another Restoration."

The second chapter in Part Two is titled “Uncle Providence,” after Leré’s uncle, Father Mancebo. But what does it mean exactly? Is it referring to Mancebo stepping in to help his family when Leré’s Uncle Roque suffered a debilitating fall (which didn’t stop the annual arrival of a new child)? Is it his belief in winning the lottery? Is it his dreams of Leré marrying well so he can take it easy, a fantasy that includes her marrying Angel so he can administer property that had been taken away from the church? A combination of these things?

The third chapter of Angel Guerra is titled “Toledan Days,” providing this footnote on page 295 to spell out the ambiguity and possible irony in the title:

This is a remarkably good instance of the way Galdós plays around with his chapter titles. Una noche Toledana (a Toledan night) signifies a bad omen, due to an event which  supposedly took place in 803 a.d., when the Arab Governor took revenge for the murder of his son by inviting 400 Toledan nobles to dine one night. Each was decapitated as he entered the palace grounds. Galdós’ title is thus very ambiguous: a Toledan day could be just the opposite of a Toledan night, and thus a good omen; or it could be merely the precursor of that night.

As usual with Galdós, you never can tell.

All references are to A Translation of "Angel Guerra" by Benito Pérez Galdós. Lewiston (N.Y.: E. Mellen Press, 1990. translated by Karen O. Austin). Previous posts:

• Benito Pérez Galdós and his mother
• Hitting the jackpot on cross-references in Galdós novels
• More fun with footnotes in Angel Guerra, naturally
• Reviewing the book through footnotes, part 4

Reviewing Angel Guerra through Footnotes, Part 4

I seem to be reviewing the translation of Angel Guerra through footnotes, and the strange thing is I'm completely fine with that. Previous entries include

• Benito Pérez Galdós and his mother
• Hitting the jackpot on cross-references in Galdós novels
• More fun with footnotes in Angel Guerra, naturally

I've said very little about the story so far, so let's correct that. The story begins in Madrid on September 19, 1886, with a revolt similar to the real-life uprising led by General Villacampa. Angel Guerra, a widower who has been a plotter of the revolt, finds himself wounded after the mob he is in kills an army officer. Needing to keep a low profile he stays at the apartment he has provided for his mistress, Dulcenombre Babel. Angel comes from a prosperous and well-respected family so he has no intention of marrying Dulce since the Babel clan is full of low-lifes and mysterious characters. In addition, Dulce had been a prostitute to help the family make ends meet. Angel's is away from his home for over a month while his wounds heal, but he eventually hears about the ill health of his mother (Doña Sales). The prodigal son returns home in an attempt to appear remorseful, but after an argument with his mother the old lady dies. Angel finds he no longer cares about his former revolutionary slogans, instead preferring to spend time with his seven-year-old daughter Ción. Both Ción and her governess, Lerè, exert a calming/taming influence on Angel. But Ción falls ill and fails to respond to treatment. Her illness becomes serious and Angel realizes he may lose his daughter. In frustration he turns to prayer, his stream of thoughts developing a new line of argument to support his request.

The footnote on page 164 provides what I want to focus on for the rest of this post:

The line of argument [in Angel’s thought] which follows—trading Dulce for Ción—finds an echo in other Galdós novels, most especially in Torquemada in the Fire (1889), where the miser and money-lender Torquemada offers a large pearl (part of the booty from one of his extortionate loans) to the Virgin in exchange for the life of his son Valentín. It doesn’t work, of course, any more than does Angel’s proposal, but in both instances it serves to point out the character’s inability to come to terms with the real meaning of faith.

Angel's deal is far worse than you're led to believe just from the note. He doesn't just offer to quit seeing his mistress, who has been sick, if Ción survives. Angel offers an exchange of Dulce’s life for Ción’s recovery. Angel even begins to fear that his recently-deceased mother has requested that Ción join her in heaven. Angel's line of argument jumps the tracks many times with his fevered "reasoning." As mentioned in the footnote, Ción dies. Immediately after her death Angel becomes quite the changed man…but more on that later.


I have mentioned The Pérez Galdós Editions Project many times since it is a great resource on the author and his works. The Fourth Annual Pérez Galdós Lecture, Gifts in the Work of Galdós by Professor Rodolfo Cardona, covers both works mentioned in the above footnote. Section III addresses Torquemada's pleading and bargaining for the life of Valentín in (as my copy translated the title) Torquemada at the Stake. (The footnotes of the lecture provide English translations of the quotes.) Section IV looks at Angel's case in more detail, looking at some of the similarities and differences between Torquemada's and Guerra's bargaining. Professor Cardona sums up one similarity nicely: "As much in the case of Torquemada as in Angel's their failed transactions with God are the key to their characters. In both cases materialism triumphs over transcendence."

Part of the irony of Guerra's materialism lies in the shift away from his youthful idealism of social revolution. Of course, with a name like Angel War it's safe to assume there will be plenty of irony and conflict from the character. In his case there doesn't necessarily have to be any irony—Angel's talk of revolution assume changes for everyone else. He believes his privileged life will continue on just as before. There's an additional thread of similarity between Torquemada and Guerra that isn't explicitly made in the lecture, which is female influences/judgments on both characters. Tía Roma, a ragpicker, lowliest of the low, sees through Torquemada's hypocrisy in his attempted good deeds. Her dedication to good works is reflected in the governess Lerè, who has dedicated her life to serving others. Lerè doesn't judge Angel, but she makes a piercing observation during his futile offers and proposals: she notes God will do what is best for everyone, not just Angel, and that an offer not meant from the bottom of his heart will fail. Both women provide a bracing wake-up call, unheeded, to the male bargainers. As Professor Cardona notes with Torquemada, his religious influence lies not with Tía Roma but with the defrocked priest José Bailón. Bailón had written a semi-revolutionary pamphlet and, as luck would have it, Torquemada was the only person who read it. Angel, though, was under the influence of Lerè (although more after the death of his daughter), but his inability to "conquer his earthly egotism" highlights his selfish behavior.

I do want to clarify one point in the lecture. Professor Cardona says that Doña Sales, Angel's mother, lectured him in the manner of Doña Perfecta…see the excerpt translated in footnote 30 of the lecture. The sarcastic tirade of Doña Sales is a generalized speech based on the severe lecturings Angel has received from her in the past. I'll provide the full translation of its first paragraph to give a more robust insight into how Doña Sales saw Angel. (I guess I better provide details on the book I'm reading: Pérez, Galdós Benito. A Translation of "Angel Guerra" by Benito Pérez Galdós. Lewiston (N.Y.: E. Mellen Press, 1990., translated by Karen O. Austin):

"But you, why should you pay any heed to a poor ignorant woman without a fancy university degree, who doesn't know how to read all those big books in French? Oh, well, but of course…you, destined to reform society and turn everything upside-down, to restore up what's fallen and tear down anything that's still standing, you're a big man, a regular fountain of all knowledge. It's true that up to now all you've done is act the fool, vomit out blasphemy after blasphemy for the benefit of others as stupid as yourself, get yourself teamed up with the worst black sheep of every family in town, and lure the corporals and sergeants into going out like thugs to kill their own commanding officers. You're really covering yourself with glory! We'll have to wear smoked glasses just to be able to look at you, we will, because the splendor of your halo of glory blinds us, and flames of genius shoot out of your head, like sparks form a magnificent forge where they're hammering out the whole future of humanity. Good Lord, I just don't deserve such a son." (81; ellipsis in original)

As Professor Cardona notes, even with the sarcasm this highlights how different Angel is from Torquemada. Doña Sales shows a similarity with Doña Perfecta, although the latter heaped on the irony and saved the sarcasm for herself or her closest confidants. The similarities and contrasts are a nice insight into Galdós' thoughts. Charged with an anti-clerical outlook while alive, it's clear (again) that he saves his harshest judgment for people following the faith for the wrong reasons. We'll see (together) if this develops more as the novel unfolds…

More fun with footnotes in Angel Guerra, naturally

There's a footnote on page 95 of Angel Guerra (Pérez, Galdós Benito. A Translation of "Angel Guerra" by Benito Pérez Galdós. Lewiston (N.Y.: E. Mellen Press, 1990.), translated by Karen O. Austin, where Angel signals he is supporting his seven-year-old daughter's anarchy instead of imposing order, as the governess has requested. Angel’s phrase, translated, is Let us proceed, and I the first, along the constitutional path.

Angel’s phrase here—Marchemos, y yo el primero, por la senda constitucional—is an almost perfect reproduction of the phrase Marchemos francamente, yo el primero, por la senda constitucional uttered by Fernando VII when he finally found himself forced to accept—temporarily at least—the Constitution. Given that, and Angel’s own political orientation, it comes across as being both bitter and ironic. A short but very stinging Galdosian portrait of this monarch can be found in La Fontana de Oro (1870). It is perhaps worth noting in passing that one of Galdós’more famous tag-lines—francamente, naturalmente (frankly, naturally—constantly voiced by the character of Ido in Fortunata and Jacinta (1886-87), and earlier by the narrator himself at the end of The Bringas Woman (1884), may stem in part from Galdós’ disgust at Fernando’s hypocrisy.

Notice the omission of the word francamente in Angel’s phrasing. OK, this caused me to look up some of the references from the books I've read and I was surprised at what I found. (I hope to get to La Fontana de Oro in a few months…it's in the TBR stacks.)

The Bringas Woman (The Spendthrifts) first: I look to the end of my edition and do see the word “natural” near the end but doesn’t see anything worthy of pointing out. To the online Spanish edition. Francamente appears 10 times in the text, naturalmente twice, both appearing together at the end of the novel. “Francamente, naturalmente, les vi salir con pena. My Spanish is awful, but something along the lines of “Frankly, naturally, I watched them leave with regret.” Heh. That does sound like a dig at Fernando VII now that I know what to look for. As to my translation, though, I now notice there are only 47 chapters. The Spanish edition has 50. Sigh. Was something left out, or was it only reconfigured? Looks like I need to revisit this in a different translation.

On to Fortunata and Jacinta. Francamente appears only once in the online Spanish edition, naturalmente twenty times. Sr. Ido, for those that have read the novel, was the publications salesman that first shows up on the Santa Cruz doorstep on page 119 of the English translation by Agnes Moncy Gullón. He turns “electric” when he eats meat and believes his wife is having an affair. (He also provides Jacinta with some delicate “information,” but I won’t spoil it for those that haven’t read the novel.) 

Six “naturally” referenced quotes are by him just in the subchapter he’s introduced (Volume One, Chapter 8, sub-chapter 4). I’m not sure why Galdós puts the word in this character's mouth so often. My best guess is that Ido is both truthful and a fraud, a paradox the author brilliantly depicts, although he's not willingly a hypocrite. Regardless, I love little tidbits like this.

Cross-references in Galdós novels: I think I hit the jackpot

One of the many remarkable qualities of Galdós is his use of characters across many of his novels. I’ve mentioned one of these repeating characters before, the Madrid doctor Alejandro Miquis. I’m reading Angel Guerra (Pérez, Galdós Benito. A Translation of "Angel Guerra" by Benito Pérez Galdós. Lewiston [N.Y.: E. Mellen Press, 1990.), translated by Karen O. Austin, and Dr. Miquis appears yet again, this time tending to Angel’s sick mother Doña Sales. Ms. Austin provides a footnote on this character’s recurring nature and his basis on a real-life friend of Galdós but I’m going to point to this article on Manuel Tolosa Latour, “famous pediatrician, author of scientific and literary works, and long-time friend of the novelist.” Galdós would send letters to Tolosa Latour addressed to Miquis and, likewise, Tolosa Latour would sign some of his letters to Galdós as “Miquis.”

We hit the jackpot of recurring characters on pages 66-7 of the translated Angel Guearra, when a servant in Doña Sales’ house tells Angel who was visiting earlier in the evening:

The Santa Cruz and Medina ladies were around earlier, and the Marchioness of Taramundi. And Canon León is staying in the house while he’s here; but at night, after he’s eaten, he usually goes on over to visit Mr. and Mrs. Bringas.”

Santa Cruz refers to either Jacinta or her mother-in-law (Doña Barbarita Arnáiz) or possibly/probably both (Austin assumes both but I’m not completely sold given the ambiguity of the structure of the sentence. Maybe it’s clearer in the original.) Something didn’t feel right about their inclusion but I double-checked the dates of the referenced novel (which ends in the spring of 1876) and it’s conceivable that both could be part of this scene in October 1886. The Bringas reference (see here) is nice. I know they will be mentioned in at least one other translated Galdós novel I plan to post about. The inclusion I really love is of Canon León. León Pintado was a priest at the Micaelas, where Fortunata went to ‘cleanse herself’ (or at least her reputation) before her wedding to Maxi (see page 333 of the translation of Fortunata and Jacinta by Agnes Moncy Gullón for his first appearance). I knew my outline of the book would come in handy. Galdós perfectly fills in the gaps of how a jealous priest became a high-ranking canon.

I’m always amazed at Galdós’ talents, especially the world and characters he created. I think he took pride in it, too, given his direct reference on page 91 of Angel Guerra to his previous mention of León Pintado:

He was (as those who know the story of Fortunata may recall) stout and elegant, fairly well along in years, affable and conciliatory, a bit vain in his dress, of absolute intellectual and moral insignificance, a smoother-over of troubled waters, a man who liked to be on good terms with everyone, especially with those in high places.

A direct reference, early in this massive novel, to the world he created in another massive novel. I guess you can be ballsy when you have done each well.

Benito Pérez Galdós and his mother

This post and at least one more will be based on footnotes in the translation of Angel Guerra I'm currently reading (Pérez, Galdós Benito. A Translation of "Angel Guerra" by Benito Pérez Galdós. Lewiston [N.Y.: E. Mellen Press, 1990.). The translation is by Karen O. Austin. I updated my post on Doña Perfecta with this quote, but thought it worthy of a separate note since it's been a couple of weeks since that post. And yes, sometimes I do get bogged down in the minutiae…why do you ask?

I have seen several mentions of Galdós likely basing a few characters on his mother, but this footnote (on page 78 of Angel Guerra) provides a good summary:

The portrait of Doña Sales is almost ertainly based on his mother, referred to by all the family as Mama Dolores. She was a loving but very domineering mother—so much so that the author is almost always known by Galdós (Dolores’ maiden name) rather than Pérez (his father’s name) or Pérez Galdós, as would be correct. Benito was the youngest of ten children, and only managed to give her the slip when she sent him off to study at the University in Madrid in order to separate him from what she considered to be a budding undesirable connection with one Sisita, the illegitimate daughter of an uncle. Once away, he steered fairly clear of the Canaries—and of her. He was close to his family and certainly loved her, but he seems to have felt it wiser to love her from a good safe distance. There is an earlier and far more horrifying depiction of her in the protagonist of Doña Perfecta (1876). The portrait in Angel Guerra is gentler, more disposed to give her credit for her strengths as well as her flaws.