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.

Tristana by Benito Pérez Galdós: Bonus Fortunata and Jacinta quote and comments

Tristana: Buñuel’s Film and Galdós’ Novel: A Case Study in the Relation Between Literature and Film by Colin Partridge (New York: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1995)

In reading though Colin Partridge’s essay on the novel Tristana I found a quote from Fortunata and Jacinta that I had marked as important when I read it but somehow excluded it in the many posts on that novel. I'm fixing that now. Lucky you. But it’s an important insight into the philosophy in Galdós’novels, contained in what looks like a throwaway line or one easy to miss in a massive novel. From near the end of Volume Three / Chapter 5 (Another Restoration), pages 543-544 in my version with translation by Agnes Moncy Gullón:

Forunata saw Sr. Feijóo very infrequently now; he came to pay ceremonious visits and stayed for about an hour, talking more with Señora Járegui than with Señora Rubín. The pleasant old man appeared to be happy, but his health was failing; by April he never left home without a servant. On one of his visits he was alone with his friend [Fortunata] and spoke to her in such a fatherly way that she almost burst into tears. Everything was going quite well and he presumed that “his chulita” had had time to appreciate his lessons and advice. Feijóo’s friendship displeased Maxi, although he couldn’t have said exactly why. But the strangest part was that after a month or so of this new life, even Fortunata began to enjoy Don Evaristo’s visits less. She continued to feel the same gratitude and affection for him, but she couldn’t help considering the presence of her former protector in that house a monstrosity. “Could it really be,” she wondered, “like what he said—that life is full of these unbelievable horrors! Just think—this is what it’s like! There’s the world you see and then there’s another one, hidden underneath…and the inside is making the outside the way it is. Well, I guess it makes sense after all, it’s not the face of the clock that runs, but what’s inside—what you can’t see.” [emphasis mine]

As Partridge puts it in his essay about Galdós’ writing, “At least two forces are always in conflict, shaping individual consciousness and making each person a part of the world he or she perceives.” There’s nothing earth-shattering in Galdós’ approach but he’s consistent in its application, which makes for plenty of fun reading.

Fortunata and Jacinta: additional posts

I'm glad to see other bloggers are reading/have read Fortunata and Jacinta and that others have expressed interest in tackling the book. I wanted to include a list of additional posts on the novel tied (however loosely) to the read-along. If I missed a post of yours or you add one later, please don't hesitate to leave a comment or email me. I would love to include it here. OK, on with the posts....

From Scott G. F. Bailey's Six Words for a Hat:

• El marqués de Casa-Muñoz se lo decía a Barbarita: "No hay que involucrar, París es muy malo; pero también es muy bueno."
• Juan springs from his sickbed: Fortunata y Jacinta
• Shots fired, downtown Madrid

From Amateur Reader's Wuthering Expectations:

• Sulfur people, lizard-belly green, and yellow that mixes poetry and consumption - beginning a week of Fortunata and Jacinta
• She lost count of the buttons she’d undone. There were a hundred, maybe a thousand. - realistic Fortunata and Jacinta
• Pipes all over the place! - another dream, more patterns in Fortunata and Jacinta
• His thick lips shone with the goo - non-Victorian Galdós
• They're better raw - the great Fortunata

Fortunata and Jacinta summary

What a long strange year in reading it has been. I hadn’t planned on reading Fortunata and Jacinta again or delving into more Galdós but I’m glad I did. I plan on reading a few more of his books that have been translated into English over the next few months, so you will be hearing more about him on these pages.

I will have a few more posts on this novel but I wanted to post this summary before moving onto other books. I plan at least three additional posts on the novel (which are noted below with the placeholders). I’m happy to see others are reading the novel and there have been some posts so far, and I look forward to reading more of them. I realize it’s a long, complex novel that takes more than a month to do it justice.

I hope the posts below have been helpful for those reading along and my biggest desire is that they (along with others’ posts) will drive some interest in the book and get others to read it. It’s a magnificent novel that deserves a wide audience. Enjoy!

Resources
My outline by subchapter
Links on Spanish history
The Illusion of Life Itself: some quotes and links to the Annual Pérez Galdós Lecture

More links: One
More links: Two
Fact and fiction at the same time: quotes from an article by Harriet Stevens Turner
Quotes from the novel about Torquemada (leading into reviewing Torquemada)
Other quotes I posted in a previous online life
Link to The Neglected Books Pages's review and notes on the novel

Posts
Volume One
Preliminary notes
Dreams that lead to the truth
Smuggling a story

Volume Two
Summary, miscellanea
The question of good works
Strong women; silencing the host

Volume Three
Failure
Practical philosophy

Volume Four
Segismundo Ballester
False progress and false hearts
An unasked question


Other posts
Placeholder: 1980 Spanish TV series
Roundup of other blogs' posts on the novel
Placeholder: Notes on Fortunata and Jacinta and La Regenta

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 4: an unasked question

I found several (what I call) unasked questions in the novel but I believe there was one that Galdós wanted the reader to consider—what is in store for little Juan (Juan Evaristo Segismundo)? The novel ends on a melancholy buoyant note, which is the best Galdós could do given the body count and other damage in Volume Four. The philosophies presented by Ballester and Maxi in the final subchapter show a trend toward reconciliation and acceptance. Little Juan is with Jacinta and the Santa Cruz family. Juan Santa Cruz has been marginalized in his family. Aurora received the equivalent of a Jerry Springer Show-style smack-down. And yet so much of the novel has been based on perception and reality not being in synch and, as I put it in the previous post, a presentation of false progress. So do these events bode well for the newborn?

The immediate consideration lies with the damning precedent of his father who was coddled at a young age and refused to mature. While it’s not always fair to project what happens beyond the end of the book, the reader can be forgiven for believing little Juan will be treated the same as his father. Whether his behavior/outcome is different than that of his father depends on other events, or so Galdós seems to imply, most importantly depending on the direction Spain takes.

The political overtones play a central role in the theme of false progress. All the reforms have done is entrench bribery and favoritism, with Villalonga embodying this perfectly. There is a tie-in between the individual and the nation throughout the novel, whether it’s the births by Isabel Cordero corresponding with historical events or the alternations between republic and monarchy coinciding with the change in reconciled marriages and mistresses. With this intertwining between individuals and the state little Juan seems to embody, at least to some extent, the future of Spain. Galdós takes pains to show the good and bad points of each class, not just the rich and poor but also the burgeoning middle class. Little Juan's parentage, the mixture of the higher class and the pueblo, also reflects a blending that Galdós seems to imply will be good for him, at least as long as the better parts of each class outweigh their respective drawbacks.

It goes without saying that the ending and little Juan’s future are open to interpretation—feel free to add yours in the comments.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 4: false progress and weak hearts

I mentioned some strong women in the novel in an earlier post and I want to ramble about a similar topic here. In Volume Four we meet Aurora, another clever and apparently strong woman character (I mention in this post how Galdós initially introduces her via a portrait in Doña Lupe’s parlor). Aurora pretends to be the friend of Fortunata while stealing Juan from her and planting the story of Jacinta’s unfaithfulness with Moreno-Isla. Maxi tells Fortunata about Juan and Aurora. Maxi, the weakest of weak men in the novel, knows how to injure her deeply and asks Fortunata “What did you want—to wound and not be wounded?” Fortunata believed in Jacinta’s unfaithfulness, using that false story to help justify her affair with Juan. Just as Aurora led Fortunata around the Samaniego household, arms entwined, Aurora’s actions and stories lead Fortunata to desperate actions.

But not everything is as it seems. Aurora: did Galdós mean her character to symbolize the dawn of something? Galdós mentions that she was unable to work for one of the big stores because of the salesmen, “professional loafers,” “usurp from girls their only respectable way of earning a living.”(The comparison of Paris’ shops to Madrid’s stores reminded me of a similar comparison of Paris shops to Warsaw’s stores in Bolesław Prus’ The Doll.) Aurora may represent a new opportunity for women to earn a living but it’s only because she owes the position to her cousin Pepe Samaniego and Don Manuel Moreno-Isla (Aurora’s former lover). Aurora turns out to be just one example of what falsely looks like progress in Spanish society in the novel, a subject worthy of its own post which, alas, won’t happen here.

Moreno-Isla's infatuation with Jacinta is apparent in the “hand chapter” at the opening of “That Idea, That Crafty Idea” in Volume Three (so much goes on in that subchapter...it's worth a re-read or two). The “Insomnia” chapter in Volume Four details his obsession with Jacinta, weaving an inner monologue with what resembles a modernist stream-of-consciousness technique. His heart can’t handle his passion, literally and figuratively. (Another topic worthy of its own post is the parallels between Morena-Isla and Fortunata.)

I’m probably only going to have one more post on the novel itself and address one of its unasked questions.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 4: Ballester

In a novel layered in meaning the character Segismundo Ballester helps tie together many of the themes. As the pharmacist that employs Maxi, he embodies a balance in life lacking in most other characters. His profession represents this mixture as he regularly talks about the blending of medicinal compounds. At the end of the novel (see the final quote of this post) he shows that he can compromise with a critic he used to hate, a trait lacking in most other characters.

The importance of his personality in regards to the novel lies in his acceptance of Fortunata. Other male characters either try to change Fortunata, attempting to polish a diamond in the rough, or idealize her beyond recognition, believing her to be something she couldn’t live up to until her death. Ballester accepts her for what she is, or it may be better said that he loves her because of her attributes, good and bad. He understands the hold Fortunata has over him and he basks in its sublime torture, helped along by her lack of reproof at his clumsy advances. In the carriage ride to the cemetery for Fortunata’s funeral, Ballester unburdens himself to the critic Ponce (ellipsis in original):

”Look, my friend Ponce: I’m inconsolable, yet I can’t fail to recognize—if I express my social egoism—that the death of that woman is better for me—the good and the bad always come in pairs in life—because, believe me, I was all set to commit foolish acts for that sweet girl; I was already committing them, and would have reached God know what point…you can imagine how attractive I found her! I consider myself a reasonable man, and yet I was headed straight for an abyss. That woman held a power over me I couldn’t begin to explain; I took it into my head that she was an angel, yes, an angel in disguise, you might say, all done up in a mask to scare off fools; and not all the wise men in the world could have convinced me to give up that notion. Even now it’s firmly implanted in me. It may be delirious, an aberration, but that notion is fixed in me, and what makes me despair the most is that now, because of death, I can’t prove whether it’s true.”
(from Vol. 4, Ch. 6, 16)

Ballester may be a romantic fool but Galdós paints him as our romantic fool. Or maybe I should say his romantic fool. The first time through Fortunata and Jacinta I thought Feijóo was a stand-in for the author but now, if there is such a thing, I believe it to be Ballester. The examples of compromise, his belief in realism, and the loyalty in friendship he demonstrates show a path on how things could have gone differently for other characters. Not to mention the tantalizing idea of Ballester marrying Fortunata (and Moreno-Isla wedding Jacinta). His open flirtation with Fortunata may be laughable but he is the person she comes to trust beyond any other character. His loyalty to her ends up costing him his position in the pharmacy.

Galdós has many literary tie-ins throughout the novel. Ballester’s first name, Segismundo, evokes the princely character from Calderón's play Life is a Dream and its theme of fate versus free will. Don Quixote appears throughout the novel in numerous ways and Ballester assists on that count. He reprimands Maxi for the books he reads and the crazy notions he will get from his study (4:1:1 and 4:1:3 for examples), much like the intervention of the barber and the priest with the don. Maxi’s obsession with honor and his self-inflicted persecution not only echoes the earlier farce with Sr. Ido but adds a Cervantean irony with the knowing irony Ballester piles on. It also allows him to say how he really feels about Fortunata to his friend (ellipsis in original):

It’s just like the other nonsense—that they’re going to take away your honor; that men get into your house; that’s your honor’s being ambushed from all sides. Aren’t we melodramatic, though! It’s hard to believe that you could think up such absurd things and be married to a woman who’s as chaste and pure as the Virgin Mary; yes, sir, I’ll say it again: as chaste as the Virgin Mary; a woman who’d sooner let herself be carved up than look at another man. And since you know it’s so, why do you make such a fuss? Ah, if I had a woman like that—so beautiful, so virtuous—if I had a virginal creature like that at my side, I’d get down on my knees to worship her; I’d let myself be caned before giving her any reason to be upset. Your honor! You’ve got more honor than…well, I don’t know what to compare it with. Your honor is brighter than the sun. No, not even the sun will do; it’s got spots. It’s cleaner than clean. And you still complain. Listen: I’m going to cure you with this stick. As soon as you mention honor, whack! It’s the only way. You do these things because you’re spoiled. An aunt who looks after you, a pretty wife who spoils you and lives only for you. That’s the truth. Jiminy, if I only had a wife like her…”
(from Vol. 4, Ch. 1, 3)

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 3: failure

The previous post looked at Feijóo’s practical philosophy he tried to impart to Fortunata to survive her “restoration” into the Rubín family. Feijóo’s outlook is one of practicality—setting an ideal goal but planning for contingencies. Feijóo continues in the line of people attempting to reform Fortunata. Where the Rubín family tried to confine Fortunata in a standard household routine, Feijóo attempts to provide some level of independence for her. Ironically that freedom would come through self-control and submission to her role as Maxi’s wife. Several characters recognize Fortunata as a diamond in the rough, but too much polish and she wouldn’t be the same person.

Feijóo’s project ultimately fails. There is another failure of sorts in Volume 3 by Guillermina, one of several strong female characters that rebel against type. Mauricia’s sickness plays an important role for the plot, providing the chance for Fortuanta and Jacinta to meet. Through Guillermina’s weakness (albeit with plenty of pressure from Jacinta), she lies to Fortunata and sets up the confrontation between Juan’s “wives.” While it’s obvious Galdós respected Guillermina and other characters joke about her saintliness, there is something about her that has always struck me as a little off which plays into the question of good works. Her care for the sick and dying show a genuine concern for people.

Even though she is the force behind building the orphanage her interaction with children seems cold and aloof. In the slums she scolds the children she sees, but more importantly she scolds the parents. It’s not that she realizes her limitations and places emphasis on the institutions (orphanage, family, etc.) that can improve life in Madrid, it’s that she does it with a clinical coldness that provides my disquiet about her. I realize her actions are consistent—she shows no additional respect for the rich (or royalty) and guarded sympathy for the poor. She agrees with Maxi’s maxim that much of the behavior of the poor comes from their poverty but also holds them accountable for the behavior that isn’t. Her evisceration of Izquierdo is followed by her lead for a job, for example.

I found the unplanned mediation between Fortunata and Jacinta disquieting, but Guillermina’s actions with the dying Fortunata (in Volume Four) showed her desire to control or broker a situation. I’ll save that for a post covering that section, but I’ll say here that it made me reevaluate her actions in brokering for Pituso’s sale. I’m curious to see other readers’ thoughts on Guillermina…

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 3: practical philosophy

After Juan dumps Fortunata again, she is protected by the retired military man Evaristo Feijóo. He sets her up in her own place and proposes an arrangement for her to be his lover. She accepts but, as his health declines, the dynamic changes mostly to a father-daughter relationship. (This isn’t the only relationship in the novel that has incestuous overtones.) Feijóo’s health declines so quickly that he becomes worried about Fortunata’s future—what will become of her when he can no longer take care of her? The answer from Feijóo is that Fortunata needs to return to Maxi and ask for his forgiveness. In laying out his plan, Feijóo provides what the author terms a practical philosophy. The goal was for Fortunata to love, or at least tolerate, Maxi after her return to him. Realizing this goal may not be possible, Feijóo’s rules were meant to protect her reputation and standing (from Volume 3, Chapter 4, subchapter 6; ellipsis in original):

“The first thing you must always, always bear in mind at every moment and under any circumstances is that you must keep up appearances. Look, chulita, I’m not dying until I’m sure I’ve planted this notion firmly in your head. Learn my words by heart and say them every morning right after the Lord’s prayer.”

Like a language teacher who repeats a declination to his pupils, hammering in the syllables one by one as if here nailing them into their brains, Don Evaristo, right hand raised, as if it were a hammer pounding steadily against a wall, slowly nailed these words into his pupil’s mind:

“Keeping … up … appearances; following … the rules; showing … the respect … we owe each other … and above all … never losing control, you hear? … never losing control” (as the teacher repeated this last rule, his hand was suspended in the air; his eyebrows arched halfway up his forehead; and his eyes which were extremely bright, emphasized the importance he placed on this part of the lesson), “never losing control, you can do whatever you like.”

Fortunata’s stay at the convent was to give her the appearances of respectability, putting a coat of whitewash on her past. She immediately falls into Juan’s arms, who presented a shortened version of Feijóo’s philosophy back in Volume Two: “You can do what you like as long as you’re discreet.” Juan has already learned Feijóo’s rules and perfected them. Being the “Dauphin,” though, helps him in his extramarital escapades. Fortunata’s past and reputation count against her, especially after the whitewashing fails.

Update: the last paragraph was left off the original posting: Mauricia also understood the philosophy to some extent and had tried to coach Fortunata while they were still in the convent, although she failed to include many points that made Feijóo's philosophy complete:

“Once you’re a nice little married lady you can do as you please—and keep the fringe benefits that go with ‘properness.’ A single woman’s a slave; she can’t even go where she wants. The ones that get themselves an excuse for a husband have carte blanche for everything.”

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 2: strong women; silencing the Host

I mentioned in the previous post that I planned to look at some of the principal female characters introduced in Volume Two. Volume One had several strong female characters, notably Guillermina Pacheco and Isabel Cordero, and Volume Two adds to this roster.

Doña Lupe succeeds in the business world as a student of the usurer Torquemada. While she relies on him for help in some areas of her little empire, she skillfully handles other areas on her own. Doña Lupe’s treatment of Papitos (and apparently other maids before her) demonstrates how she likes to mold people to follow her bidding, something she’s unable to do with the two oldest nephews. Some of Doña Lupe’s success comes from her lack of feminine traits or possessions—a widow with no children and only one breast stands outside many of the roles or attributes expected at the time. Her lack of fear at confrontations and her direct language reminded me of Guillermina’s crusading for her causes.

Introduced in the Micaelas’ chapters, Mauricia is portrayed as a masculine female character, said to resemble Napoleon. Mauricia takes on the world unapologetically on her own terms. Her drunken vision near the end of Chapter 6 provides another unsettling vision in the novel. Her challenge to the social and religious orders, including the thinly veiled sexual nature of her assault on the chapel, carries over to her death-bed rants. Galdós provides several secondary characters like Mauricia who play pivotal roles in the plot. Mauricia’s illness and death brings together Fortunata and Jacinta as well as Doña Lupe and Guillermina. Also important is the influence she exerts on Fortunata. Her philosophy celebrating basic passions also includes many points from Feijóo’s “practical philosophy,” although described in coarser terms (more on this in Volume Three).

I want to return to Mauricia’s vision/dream in the chapel since it is so bizarre and works on many different levels. At times it echoes the overall novel’s plot. At other points the triumph of her will and her sexuality shine forth. Her challenge to authority takes on some troubling symbolism when she eats/silences the Host. The lesson from the narrator at the end will be revisited several times in the novel. From Volume 2, Chapter 6, subchapter 9 (ellipsis in original):

In a profoundly lethargic state, Mauricia did what she had not been able to do awake: she continued the action interrupted by the locked door. Nothing actually happened, but the action was firmly rooted in Mauricia’s will. The shrew entered the chapel, not bumping into anything because the lamp on the altar gave off enough light to show her the way. Unwaveringly she headed for the main altar, saying along the way: “I’m not going to hurt you, my little God; I’m just going to take you to your Mamma, who’s out there crying for you and waiting for me to get you out of here… What is it? Don’t you want to go to your Mamma? She’s waiting for you, and she’s so pretty, and looks so nice, all dressed up in that cloak full of little stars, with her feet up there on the moon. Just wait—you’ll see what a nice job I’ll do of getting you out of here. ‘Cause I love you so, I really do. You know me, don’t you? I’m Mauricia la Dura; I’m your friend.”

Even though she was walking very fast, it was taking her a long time to get to the altar because the chapel, which was so small, had become very big. There was at least half a league from the door to the altar. And the more she walked, the further it was. Finally she reached it, climbed up the two, three, four stairs, and felt so odd there, seeing the table covered with delicate, snowy-white linen, and seeing it at such close range that for some time it kept her from taking the last step. When she put her hand on the Holy Communion table, she was overtaken by a fit of convulsive laughter. “Who would’ve said it? Oh my God, oh God; that I… hee, hee, hee!” She removed the crucifix from in front of the ciborium door, then stretched out her arm; but since it didn’t reach far enough, she stretched it more and more until it hurt her from straining so much. At last, thank God, she was able to open the door touched only by the priest’s anointed hands. Lifting the curtain, she fumbled for a moment in that holy, worshipped, mysterious hollow… But there was nothing there! She felt this way, then that way, and found nothing. Then she remembered that that wasn’t where the monstrance was. It was kept higher up. She climbed onto the altar, put her feet on the Communion table, looked this way, then that way… Ah! Finally her fingers touched the metallic base of the monstrance. Oh, but it was cold! So cold it burned. Contact with the metal sent an icy chill down her spine. She hesitated. Should she take it or not? Oh, yes; a hundred time yes; even if she died she had to do this. With exquisite care, but very decisively, she clutched the monstrance and descended a staircase that hadn’t been there before. Pride and happiness filled the daring woman’s soul as she saw the tangible representation of God in her own hands. Oh, how the gold rays on the glass pane shone! And what mysterious, placid majesty there was in the pure host’s being safely behind the glass—white, divine, and somehow seeming like a person, yet it was really only fine bread!

With incredible arrogance Mauricia descended, entirely unaware of any weight. She lifted the monstrance as a priest does, for the faithful to adore it. “See how I’ve dared,” she thought. “Didn’t you say it couldn’t be done? Well, it could and it was!” She continued on her way out of the chapel. The most pure host was faceless, yet it looked out as if it had eyes. And the sacrilegious woman, approaching the place under the chair, began to be afraid of that look. “No; I’m not letting you go. You’re not going back there. Home to Mamma, all right? Baby’s not crying ‘cause he wants hi mother, is he, now?” Saying this, she dared to take the holy form to her bosom as if it were a baby. And then she noticed that the holy form not only had profound eyes as luminous as the sky, but also a voice, a voice that echoed pitifully in her ears. The material quality of the monstrance had completely vanished; all that remained were the essentials: the representation, the pure symbol; and these are what Mauricia pressed furiously to her breast. “Girl,” the voice said, “don’t take me. Put me back where I was. Don’t do anything crazy. If you let me go, I’ll forgive your sins, which you have so many of that they can’t be counted; but if you persist in trying to take me away from here, you’ll be condemned. Let me go and don’t worry—I won’t say a word to Don León or the nuns. They won’t scold you. Mauricia, what are you doing, woman? Are you eating me?”

And that was all. What raving madness! No matter how absurd something is, there’s always room for it in the bottomless pit of the human mind.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 2: the question of good works, how beneficial and at what cost?

The model for Guillermina Pacheco is the historical persona of Doña Ernestina Manuel de Villena (1830-86). Galdós himself praised the charity work and character of Ernestina shortly after her death. He considered her a true saint of the modern world. Fervently Catholic and tenacious of spirit, she built an asylum for orphans in Madrid brick by brick, using up her inheritance and energetically soliciting donations from everyone else. It took her twenty years. She was also committed to other charity projects, including a soup kitchen, workshops and schooling for the asylum orphans, and home relief. An aristocrat by birth, Ernestina was representative of “a new, active type of Christian charity.” …

It is important to place Ernestina—and hence Guillermina Pacheco and Galdós’s novel by extension—within the larger context of the Catholic Revival in relation to the development of philanthropy in Spain and to the larger, more visible role women played in both the revival and philanthropy. Ernestina’s personality fascinated her contemporaries. Her motives for dedicating herself to the poor were the subject of endless speculation. With her memorable reincarnation in Fortunata y Jacinta, one might be tempted to see her as an isolated figure of Catholic benevolence and religiosity in late nineteenth-century Spain. Consider, however, that Ernestina’s youth and early adulthood coincided with a midcentury revival of piety and evangelism and her mature years with yet another wave of devotionalism, centering above all upon the mystery of the Eucharist as well as the Sacred Heart, Mary, and the Holy Family, during the Restoration period.

- Valis, Noel (2010). Sacred Realism: Religion and the Imagination in Modern Spanish Narrative. Yale University Press, pages 129 – 132.

I plan to have a separate post on the principal female characters of Volume Two, but I wanted to go into those details about Guillermina since there is an underlying question of charity that runs through many of the Galdós novels I’ve read and have lined up to read. The question usually revolves around the benefits realized, if any, of charity and who the charity benefits. Guillermina proves to be the one character that solely acts out of sympathy for the poor. Jacinta often shows compassion, most of the time for truly selfless reasons, but her motives during the Pitusian novel in Volume One are more than a little suspect. While there are several variations about “the vastness of the kingdom of poverty,” Maxi’s comment that “Half the dishonor you see in life isn’t anything but poverty” (II, 2, 8) seems to capture a major tenet of Galdós’ outlook. The bigger question, left unanswered, is how to deal with the poverty.

Torquemada at the Stake humorously explores charity on a cost/benefit relationship for someone trying to “bribe” religion in order to realize selfish wishes. In Volume Three, Doña Lupe calculates that acting charitably in front of Guillermina will provide opportunities for her to mingle with the wealthy and aristocratic society in Madrid, a legitimizing step for her in the tenuous middle-class position she finds herself in with her new riches.

As I discussed in the previous post, there is a legitimacy of a different type going on with Fortunata’s stay at the Micaelas. In this case it is a whitewashing of her past, allowing her to be presentable in society (at least at Maxi’s level). Unfortunately she and Mauricia turn out to be less than notable alumni of the convent, or at least notable in a positive manner. In both cases passion, not poverty, turns out to be the issue in their subsequent dishonor. The Micaelas’ purpose was to tame (or sublimate) these passions. Evidently it worked for some of the women (hence the convent’s reputation and the attempt at transformation) but not for Fortuanta or Mauricia.

The related topic of why people perform charity surfaces often and the benefit usually accrues more to those giving. People give to Guillermina to stop her harassment as well as publicly show their good works. Charity turns out to be one of the lesser reasons for Fortunata’s visit to the Micaelas—the Rubín family assumes their reputation relies on her successful stay since Maxi is determined to marry her. There will be many more examples of charity in the novel in Parts Three and Four and I find it interesting to analyze the motivation of the giver and who really benefits from the gift. Galdós doesn't provide easy answers for the complicated problems he raises…scratch that, he usually doesn't provide any answers, but the trends we'll see in the second half of the novel provide hints in the direction he believes Spanish society should head.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 2: summary and miscellanea

Volume 2 focuses on Fortunata’s story. First, though, we meet the Rubín family, headed by Doña Lupe, a widow who has been tutored in financial dealings by Sr. Torquemada. Her nephews are Juan Pablo, Nicolás, and Maximiliano, nicknamed Maxi, a sickly pharmacy student. Maxi meets Fortunata (after her affair with Juan) and is smitten. Fortunata has no interest in the would-be lover, although the dream of respectability proffered by marriage captivates her. Maxi, displaying willpower previously unknown to him, convinces Doña Lupe he intends to marry Fortunata. The family strikes a compromise, sending Fortunata to a convent (the Micaelas) for social redemption, or at least the appearance of respectability. In the Micaelas, Fortunata meets an acquaintance, Mauricia, who informs Fortunata of the trap Juan has set for after her marriage—he has rented the apartment next to Maxi’s room. After her release from the convent and marriage to Maxi, Fortunata falls into Juan’s trap. Maxi finds out about the affair and despairs. Juan grows tired of Fortunata and dumps her. Having shamed the Rubín family with her affair, Fortunata leaves their house.

I mentioned in a previous post that Galdós' humor extends to the chapter titles. Volume One has a chapter titled “The Honeymoon,” covering the trip taken by Juan and Jacinta after their wedding. Volume Two has a chapter titled “The Wedding and the Honeymoon,” covering the wedding of Maxi and Fortunata. There is no honeymoon, though. Maxi is taken ill with a migraine during the wedding feast. As Fortunata puts it, within hours of the wedding she was committing adultery with Juan. But here’s the catch—Fortunata views Juan as her real husband since she had a child with him, so in a perverse sense she does have a honeymoon.

At the start of the year I had a post that included an excerpt describing Doña Lupe. Here’s one of many descriptions of Maxi and his pharmacy classmates that succinctly summarizes their characters:

The boys in botany class amused themselves by giving each other nicknames based on Linnaeus’ nomenclature. One named Anacleto—who considered himself very elegant and genlemany—was dubbed Anacletus obsequiosissimus; they called Encinas, who was very short, Quercus gigantean. Olmedo was very slovenly, so Ulmus sylvestris fit him perfectly. Narciso Puerto was ugly, dirty, and smelly, so they called him Pseudo-Narcissus odoripherus. Another boy who was very poor and had a little job on the side received the name Christophrorus oficinalis. And finally Maximiliano Rubín, who was terribly homely, clumsy, and dull-witted, was called Rubinius vulgaris throughout his career as a student. (Vol. 2, Ch. 1, 2)

Maxi’s idolization of Fortunata echoes other venerations so far in the novel. Estupiñá worships Barbarita Santa Cruz and is always at her disposal. Fortunata adores Juan despite everything he has done to her. But Maxi’s reverence has quite different implications—he intends to marry a fallen woman. The intended “purification” Fortunata goes through in the Micaelas will make her a respectable woman in conjunction with marriage. Even though her past may be noted, the acceptance she receives after her stay in the convent seems exceptional in European nineteenth-century novels. The convent exists to school young girls as well as reform fallen women, although the two groups are kept separate. Even with that separation, the combination seems symbolic since there is a great mingling of classes and social statuses in Fortunata and Jacinta. Some of this anticipates the more explicit treatment of this topic by Galdós in later novels (see Dr. Davies’ quote in the above-referenced Torquemada post).

More stray thoughts:

• Galdós opens The Spendthrifts (La de Bringas) with a chapter on a painting that provides some underlying themes and symbolism. I found it funny (and maybe coincidental) that the reader’s introduction to Aurora, a character who plays an important role in the final volume, comes as Maxi stares at a portrait of her and her sister. (See the opening paragraphs of Chatper III: A Portrait of Doña Lupe.) 


• Galdós always provides much to compare and contrast, but Volume 2 seems very heavy on such evaluations. Maxi feels ripped open by love, causing him to smash open his piggy bank. Torquemada teaches Doña Lupe how to treat borrowers, which coincidentally happens to be how she treats her nephews, especially Maxi. Maxi’s wish to redeem Fortunata has the precedent of Doña Lupe taking Papitos in as a maid in order to “straighten her out” and “make a woman of her” (and Nicolás’ attempt to reweave Fortunata’s “torn moral fabric”). And so on… 


• Galdós’ humor includes direct comments on his characters. The end of this Volume closes with Nicolás berating Fortunata for her adultery, commanding her to leave the house and noting they will need to burn holy incense to purify it. The narrator’s earlier descriptions of Nicolás’ slovenly manners and poor hygiene are alluded to in the closing passage as well as an apology:

  Nicolás repeated the figure of speech he found so satisfying: “Burn incense, burn incense.” And as far as lavender was concerned, it wouldn’t have done him any harm, physically. No offense meant.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 1: smuggling a story

Recognizing my outline only makes sense to someone reading the novel (and maybe not even to them), a short recap of Volume 1…

Galdós provides the genealogy of the Santa Cruz and Arnáiz families and focuses on the adolescence and young adulthood of Juan Santa Cruz. Juan’s mother, aware that he is hanging with a suspect crowd, arranges his marriage to his first cousin, Jacinta Arnáiz. While on the honeymoon Jacinta badgers Juan about his affair with Fortunata and finds out about the resulting pregnancy. After a few years together and no children, Jacinta attempts to adopt a boy that she believes to be the offspring of Juan and Fortunata. The plan falls through when Juan informs her that his son died. At the end of the section Juan hears of Fortunata’s return to Madrid in the following manner.

Galdós plays with multilayered storytelling in Chapter XI, or to be more accurate he has one of his characters do so. Even the title of the chapter, “The End, Which Turns Out to Be the Beginning,” provides a sly nod to what he’s doing in the chapter. (At times, the chapter titles provides jokes all their own, the best of which I’ll highlight in Volume 2.) Jacinto María Villalonga, a corrupt politician and good friend of Juan Santa Cruz, arrives on Three Kings’ Day, January 6, 1874 to tell the Santa Cruz family about the coup that Manuel Pavía led in overturning the government of Emilio Castelar (see the end of this history for more details). The family has been wishing Villalonga would visit and tell them his eyewitness news of the proceedings, but when he arrives he has additional news to tell Juan (ellipsis in all excerpts are in the original):

      “Boy, you don’t know…the news I’m bringing you! If you only knew who I’ve seen! Can your wife hear us?”
      “Nah, don’t worry about it,” replied Juan, putting the studs in his shirt front. “Make yourself clear, fast.”
      “Well, I’ve seen the person you’d least expect…Here.”
      “Who?”
      “Fortunata. But you have no idea how she’s changed. What a transformation! She’s so attractive, so elegant. My jaw almost dropped when I saw her.”
     Jacinta’s steps could be heard. When she appeared, raising the curtain, Villalonga took a brusque turn in his speech: “No, no; you don’t understand; the session started in the afternoon and there was a recess at eight o’clock. During the recess they tried to reach an agreement.”

The dueling histories, as I called them in my outline, continue in this style of a theatrical performance. Jacinta suspects there is more going on in her absence. She finds excuses to be in the room, causing Villalonga to resume his story of the coup. Just like Estupiñá enjoys smuggling goods past tariff collectors, so Villalonga relishes bringing the “secret” story to Juan. When it appears Jacinta is out of earshot, Villalonga turns back to his story that prompts a parallel coup within Juan. Villalonga relishes describing Fortunata:

“She’s enough to drive you mad. You remember that incomparable body, that statuesque bust—the type that come from the pueblo and die in obscurity unless civilization searches for them and ‘presents’ them. How many times did we say it: ‘If that bosom only knew how to exploit itself…!” Well, it wasn’t just words, it’s been perfectly exploited already. Do you remember what you used to say? ‘The pueblo is a quarry with great ideas and great beauties. And then the working hand comes with intelligence and art to cut out a block…’ Well, there it is, finely carved. What graceful lines!”

Juan experiences a “spiritual sickness,” caused by his fruitless search for Fortunata after this news, which raises fresh suspicions within Jacinta. As the narrator points out, though, Juan hid these things “very deep inside him, in caves deeper than those at the bottom of the sea, and Jacinta’s plumb would never reach them, not even with all the lead in the world.” In order to maintain his affection for his wife, Juan imagines Jacinta with the physical attributes of Fortunata. The spiritual sickness physically manifests itself as Juan contracts pneumonia after combing the city in the cold weather looking for Fortunata. More on her in Volume 2…

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 1: dreams that lead to the truth

I’m going to start my series of excerpts with one of the weirdest moments in the novel but also one of the most revealing. Funny how the two sometime go together. But first some background.

Galdós loves to set up comparisons. Juan Santa Cruz was a spoiled only child that never wanted for anything. As the mercurial lad grew up (but never matured), his parents abetted his proclivities and smoothed over his indiscretions. Others often view him as a “divine creature.” The parents had waited impatiently for a decade after marriage before Juan was conceived. Jacinta, though, was one of seven daughters in the Arnáiz family, the mother emaciated and misshapen from her almost constant pregnancies. The father lamented the cost of clothing them while the mother paraded them for marriage as items for sale or, as Galdós describes the brood, “the sample case.” The parents realize they can’t be choosy in the daughters’ marriages, so when Juan’s mother proposes the idea that Juan marry his cousin Jacinta (more on this relationship and its implications much later) the news “hit the Arnáiz family like a bomb,” as if they had won the lottery.

The comparison between the generations provides a starker contrast. Juan’s parents have been hard working while he’s been coddled. That he wants to do nothing isn’t solely his fault—his father goes out of his way to provide a life for him that he didn’t have until he was much older. Some of the symbolism highlighting the differences is starker, though. The parents share a box at the theater while Juan and Jacinta occupy separate boxes. And, more tellingly, the older couple share the same sturdy bed while the younger couple sleep in separate beds.

Jacinta knows that Juan has other women on the side at times but chooses to ignore his activity. When pushed, Juan deftly avoids the questions while dressing the truth up “in a frock coat” to make it more presentable. Her childlessness weighs on her, absorbing her so fully that she ignores the good things she had. Jacinta tries to make up for this by taking care of her nieces and nephews but finds an unbridgeable gap—they aren’t hers (insert ironic foreshadowing melody here). The need for children goes deeper than simply having a child to love…Jacinta craves affection. Her marriage incompletely provides what she wants.

Hopefully this helps set the stage for the following scene. Jacinta didn’t want to go to the opera this evening but she was cajoled into attending. She falls asleep during the performance and her repressed sexuality surfaces in a bizarre dream (ellipsis in original):

Lulled by this music, the lady fell into a deep sleep and had one of those intense and brief dreams in which the brain recreates reality in high relief, showing an admirable histrionic sense. The impression left by these lethargies is usually much stronger than that produced by many external phenomena. Jacinta found herself in a place that was and was not her house… Everything was lined in the white flowered satin that she and Barbarita had seen the day before at Sobrino’s shop. She was sitting on a puffy cushion and a beautiful little boy was climbing up over her knees, first touching her face, then putting his hand on her breast. “Stop it, stop it! It’s a dirty thing, it’s bad. You don’t want to touch that!” But the little boy wouldn’t stop. He was wearing a shirt of fine Dutch linen, and his delicate flesh slid over the silk of his mamá’s bathrobe. It was the powder-blue bathrobe she had given to her sister Canelaria weeks ago… “No, no; don’t do that! It’s dirty…” But he went right on insisting, stubborn and adorable. He wanted to unbutton her bathrobe and put his hand inside. Then he pushed his head against her breast. Seeing that this didn’t get him anywhere, he became serious, so extraordinarily serious that he seemed like a grown man. He looked at her with huge intense eyes, moist now, expressing with them and his mouth all the sorrow of which humanity is capable. Adam wouldn’t have looked otherwise on the good he was losing when he was banished from Paradise. Jacinta wanted to laugh but she couldn’t because the little boy pierced her soul with his burning gaze. A long time passed in this way, the child-man looking at his mother, and slowly melting her firmness with the power of his eyes. Jacinta felt something tearing inside her. Not knowing what she was doing, she unbuttoned one button, then another. But the boy’s face didn’t lose its seriousness. The mother was alarmed and…then the third button…still nothing; the child’s face and expression remained stern, with a beautiful gravity that was becoming terrible. The fourth button, the fifth, all the buttons slid through their buttonholes making the material strain. She lost count of the buttons she’d undone. There were a hundred, maybe a thousand. But not even with that many… His face began to seem distrustful, immobile. Finally, Jacinta put her hand into her robe, took out the breast the boy wanted, and looked at it, feeling sure that he wouldn’t be mad anymore when he saw such a pretty, full bosom. But no. Then she took the boy by his head and drew him up to her, putting her breast into his mouth… But his mouth was insensitive and his lips didn’t move. His whole face looked like a statue’s. The touch Jacinta felt on this very delicate area of her skin was the horrifying friction of chalk, friction from a rough, dusty surface. This contact made her shudder and left her dumbfounded for awhile; then she opened her eyes and realized that her sisters were there; she saw the large, heavy, painted curtains flanking the stage, the crowded side sections of the upper gallery. It took her awhile to register where she was and what nonsense she had been dreaming, and she put her hand on her breast with a modest and fearful gesture. She heard the orchestra, which was still imitating mosquitoes, and upon looking at her husband’s box she saw Frederico Ruiz, the great music lover, his head thrown back, his mouth half open, listening and savoring every bit of the delicious music from the muted violins. It seemed as if the clearest and sweetest and finest stream imaginable was being poured into his mouth. The man was in ecstasy. The lady saw other rabid music lovers in the boxes; but the fourth act was already over and Juan hadn’t appeared.
(Vol. I, Ch. VIII, 2)

What she wouldn’t find out until much later in the novel is that Juan, the man-child that is sometimes intimate with her and sometimes pursuing other women, was attending to the death and funeral of the son he had with Fortunata.

I’m eager to hear what those reading Fortunata and Jacinta (or have already read it) thought of this strange passage.

Fortunata and Jacinta Volume 1: preliminary notes

Finally, I have a moment to write some notes on Volume 1 of Fortunata and Jacinta. Before delving into excerpts from the novel, I wanted to make some general comments that may (or may not) be helpful in reading the book. These comments aren’t meant to be comprehensive (trust me, they are very impromptu) but hopefully they provide an idea of the sophistication involved.

The overall structure of the novel comes from the title itself, focusing on the lives of the two women. Each of the four volumes introduces (or focuses on the life of) a male character that are central to that part. Layer an array of continually shifting triangles on top of this 2x4 framework and you get an idea of how complicated the novel can be at times. This combination of constancy in structure with variability in particulars mirrors the action in the story.

Many symbols and motifs help unite the shifting triangles. The bird-egg motif is perhaps the most noted one, simply because it is so pervasive. The Trujillo family tree provides not just the symbol of the intertwining branches of the descendants but also the theme of yoking together the Santa Cruz and Arnáiz families:

A scrutiny of their family trees would quickly disclose that the very same sap, the Trujillo sap, ran through various branches of the Arnáiz and Santa Cruz families. “We’re all alike,” [Tubs] Arnáiz once said in one of his more festive, expansive moods, which brought out his democratic sincerity. “We’re both bonafide Trujillos—you on your mother’s side and me on my grandmother’s. We’re descendants of Matías Trujillo, who owned the packsaddle shop on Toledo Street back in the days of the cloak and dagger revolution. I’m not making it up, I have the documents at home. That’s why I told our relative Ramón Trujillo yesterday—who, as you probably know, has been made a count—I told him to use a yoke and a headstall for a coat of arms and write underneath it, ’I belonged to babieca, El Cid’s great horse.’”
(Vol. I, Ch. II, 1)

While there are many more symbols and motifs, one that struck me early on in the novel was the commercial nature of the story. The narrator goes into detail on many characters business background as well as the shifting business atmosphere in Madrid, all of which lays the groundwork for the recognition that everything is for sale. While many of the actions in the novel focus on monetary price, the cost/benefit analyses carry over to everyday actions depicted (just as in real life), such as which level to enter the Cava building in order to minimize the number of steps to climb.

Telling the story is Galdós as narrator and character. He relates his meeting or involvement with several of the characters, much as he did in The Spendthrifts (La de Bringas). Omniscient at times, feigning ignorance at others (although never very convincingly), the narrator smoothly drives the story forward and provides exactly what is needed to understand each character. Galdós, the narrator as character, disappears for long stretches of time only to occasionally remind the reader of his existence. Leopoldo Alas (the critic Clarín) noted in an essay about the author that “Galdós is best at writing when he’s not even aware of what he is doing and when the reader is no longer conscious of a presence mediating between the author’s ideas and his own.” There are some self-referential mentions of the story as novel, one I’d like to quote here since the debate it contains captures Galdós’ approach of blending facts with fiction so well. One character discusses what he knew of Fortunata’s life to a critic:

The response from the famous judge of literary works was that it had the makings of a play or a novel, although in his opinion the artistic texture wouldn’t be especially attractive unless it were warped in places so that the vulgarity of life might be converted into esthetic material. He didn’t tolerate “raw life” in art; it had to be scrubbed, seasoned with aromatic spices, and then thoroughly cooked. Segismundo did not share his opinion and they discussed the matter, each party advancing its select reasons, but each sticking to its own convictions, so that in the end they agreed that well-ripened raw fruit was very good, but so were compotes, if the cook knew what he was doing.
(Vol. IV, Ch. VI, 16)

I’m going to skip the tie-ins to Spanish history since I’ve mentioned the subject already (see this post) and the narrator specifically highlights the connection at times. I also won’t go into the foreshadowing occurring in this volume other than to say there is a lot. There is a lot more I’d like to note on Volume 1, which I'll hopefully cover in a few "excerpt posts" later this week.

Forunata and Jacinta outline (final)

Whew! I finished this project. Now I might actually find some time to write about the novel.

One of the problems I have with a large novel like Fortunata and Jacinta is finding passages after reading them so I thought I would provide sub-chapter headings to help me (and anyone else) reading the novel. My comments for the sub-chapters may not be straightforward, but they should mean something to anyone reading the novel. Page numbers are for my edition, which I realize will not coincide with everyone else’s version. This post will be updated and bumped to the top occasionally until I have all four volumes outlined.

The Wikipedia page for Fortunata and Jacinta has a list of some of the major character names.

Volume One

I.                    Juanito Santa Cruz (3)

1)      Juanito’s student days and changing study habits; his mother’s worship; living vs. reading

2)      A mother’s vigilance and prayers; his father’s philosophy; Juanito’s trip to Paris

II.                  Santa Cruz and Arnáiz (10)

A Historical View of Madrid’s Business World

1)      Business experience of  Don Baldomero Santa Cruz I & II; Tubs Arnáiz’s store

2)      Barbarita Arnáiz in her father’s store; her friends at school

3)      Barbarita’s father dies; an arranged marriage

4)      A happy marriage; Juanito born; changes in child-rearing systems

5)      Changes in Spain and in commerce; Isabel Cordero saves a store

6)      Isabel’s fertility, management, and marketing skills

III.                Estupiñá (33)

1)      The tertulia in the Arnáiz shop; Estupiñá sees Spain’s history; his gift of gab

2)      Estupiñá’s sidelines; Barbarita’s trust in him

3)      Estupiñá at 70; his first real illness

4)      Juanito visits Estupiñá, meets Fortunata

IV.                The Perdition and Salvation of the Dauphin(46)

1)      The corruption of the Dauphin; Estupiñá as spy; escape to Plencia; marriage machinations

2)      The engagement; Isabel’s death

V.                  The Honeymoon (53)

1)      Wedding; the honeymoon begins; Jacinta’s curiosity

2)      Juan’s partial confession

3)      The confession continues; more views of the common people; unsaid—was there a child?

4)      What’s in a name? Jacinta’s tenacity

5)      The imbiber of Seville; the blabber of Seville

6)      More confessions

7)      Rationalizations vs. the Decalogue; feelings of victory; truth in a frock coat

VI.                Still More Details about the Distinguished Family (80)

1)      Happiness and emptiness; “that merry scrambling of social classes”

2)      Family trees, branches, and vines

3)      The Santa Cruz house and household; Jacinta’s envy

4)      Jacinta’s desire for children—the unbridgeable distance and the “vastness of her pity”

5)      Barbarita’s vice; Estupiñá’s help

VII.              Guillermina, Virgin and Founder (96)

1)      Guillermina’s “vivid flame”; establishment of the orphanage

2)      Building a new, ad hoc orphanage

3)      Possible fallout from Amadeo’s abdication; the rivalry between Casa-Muñoz and Aparisi

VIII.            Scenes from a Private Life (108)

1)      Juan’s tarnished halo;  playing games; “his self-love always came first”

2)      No debts for Juan; “the spirit of inconsistency; Jacinta dreams—a baby at her breast

3)      Juan’s cold; abiding (briefly) by the law; Sr. Ido

4)      Sr. Ido’s electricity and delusions; his electric declaration

5)      The sick cad; Jacinta plots with Guillermina

IX.                A Visit to the Slums (132)

1)      Jacomta goes slumming with Guillermina; Toledo Street; tenement life

2)      Tenement life, cont.; savages; Ido’s mansion; the Venus de Medici and family

3)      Pitusín; an errand for Sr. Ido; the torment of the duro

4)      Ido’s inner howling for meat; Izquierdo invites himself to lunch

5)      Izquierdo’s serious history (instead of a novel)

6)      Ido drunk on meat; what’s in store for Izquierdo; making mincemeat

7)      Jacinta and Pitusín at Izquierdo’s mansion

8)      “The vastness of the kingdom of poverty”

9)      Izquierdo meets his match in Guillermina; she provides the spark for his path to glory

X.                  More Scenes from Private Life (174)

1)      The Santa Cruz’s win the lottery; Guillermina assures Jacinta she will get Pituso

2)      Juan’s sickness continues; Jacinta confesses she will have a baby

3)      Barbarita’s lack of enthusiasm with Jacinta’s plan; Izquierdo gives up Pituso

4)      Pituso takes a bath; Barbarita’s Christmas Eve

5)      Christmas Eve with the Santa Cruz family; Juanín’s desolation; Juanín and Jacinta

6)      Barbarita meets Juanín; more reports of his desolation; the truth about Juanín

7)      Life isn’t a novel; the novel continues; Fortunata’s rough life; Juan meets Juanín

8)      The rice pudding incident; Don Baldomero insists on the orphanage for Juanín

XI.                The End, Which Turns Out to Be the Beginning (213)

1)      The Pitusian novel ends; “someone in the picture”; the end of the First Republic begins; Fortunata’s fortunes have evidently changed

2)      Villalonga continues; dueling historical events; an enemy to be discovered?

3)      Juan’s  torturous obsession; the hunter misses his game, while pneumonia strikes

Volume Two

I.                    Maximiliano Rubín (227)

1)      The Rubín family; Juan Pablo’s unlucky star

2)      Maximiliano and nature’s stinginess; Rubinius vulagris; vice-proof

3)      Olmedo, the debauchee wannabe; Maximiliano meets Fortunata; smitten

4)      Maximiliano breaks open for Fortunata…will his piggy bank follow suit? Papitos, the maid

5)      Maximiliano in love, a man of talent; a pig’s slaughter

II.                  The Strivings and Mishaps of a Redeemer (249)

1)      Sensible thinking mixed with exalted passion; enduring love for Juanito; jealousy

2)      Maxi asks for, finds out the ugly pages of Fortunata’s life

3)      Redemption plans; love me yet?; what will happen when money runs out?

4)      Reading and writing; the beautiful savage awakens Maxi’s sleeping soul; married and decent?

5)      The inheritance (to come)

6)      Maxi unburdens himself to a sleeping Papitos

7)      Fortunata’s reticence; Olmedo’s dishonor—caught studying  

8)      Fortunata’s weathervane soul; dishonor and poverty

9)      Doña Lupe finds out Maxi’s wedding plans; Sunday confrontation

III.                A Portrait of Doña Lupe (280)

1)      The scolding begins; interrupted by Sr. Torquemada bearing news

2)      Torquemada’s treatment of borrowers; Doña Lupe’s treatment of Maxi (compare and contrast)

3)      Doña Lupe’s history; Maxi returns, resolute

4)      Maxi’s display of willpower inspires Doña Lupe’s respect; her tactful conclusion

5)      Doña Lupe—half flesh, half cotton; life as a userer; Torquemada’s able student

IV.                Nicolás and Juan Pablo Rubín Propose New Methods of Redemption (298)

1)      Juan Pablo visits, no interest in brother’s folly; the inheritance; politics

2)      Respect and esteem for Maxi; Nicolás arrives; the inheritance settled; how Nicolás and Doña Lupe reconcile

3)      Nicolás’ holy burps; the muted duel; Nicolás visits Fortunata

4)      Nicolás visits Fortunata again; confessions

5)      Nicolás works on the edification of Fortunata; the planned purification

6)      Maxi and Fortunata plan for the Micaelas; Doña Lupe’s dilemma about visiting Fortunata

7)      Political row between Juan Pablo and Nicolás; Doña Lupe’s visit with Fortunata

8)      Doña Lupe’s public stance; a Good Friday walk

V.                  The Micaelas, from Without (330)

1)      A brief description of the convent; Fortunata disappears inside

2)      Maxi’s fear; Nicolás invites a priest home for lunch; Doña Lupe’s anger; Papitos’ canceled revenge

3)      Maxi’s daily “visits”; Thursday visits with Fortunata

VI.                The Micaelas, from Within (339)

1)      The routine of the Filomenas; an old acquaintance

2)      Mauricia’s news; Mauricia’s disturbances

3)      Mauricia’s punishments; Fortunata finds out about Jacinta’s “maternal dilemma”

4)      Views from and diversions in the convent; Doña Manolita; Jacinta’s and Barbarita’s gifts

5)      Fortunata sees Jacinta, wishes to be her; her esteem for Maxi grows; when to leave?

6)      Belén and Felisa; Mauricia’s views on Maxi, Juan, and “what was yours”

7)      Fortunata’s reluctance toward freedom (and marriage to Maxi);  resignation; the “white idea” speaks

8)      Marcela and the mouse; Mauricia’s despair

9)      Mauricia’s vision; her singular dialogue; absurdity

10)   The source of the vision; Guillermina wades into the fray; Mauricia cast out

VII.              The Wedding and the Honeymoon (379)

1)      Release; redemption (of Fortunata’s clothes); final confession; Doña Lupe’s soft wax; shyness

2)      Maruicia appears; the trap set for Fortunata

3)      Fortunata, drowned in sadness; married and decent

4)      Wedding night; sensing danger close by; “you’ll never escape from me”; he is there

5)      Maxi improves; Juan Pablo’s arrest; freedom for Fortunata; “Am I really married?”

6)      “Over here, baby”; “You can do what you like as long as you’re discreet”; “You’re my husband”

7)      Meetings and plans; a history of revenge; Fortunata’s idea—an exchange of children

8)      Coldness and melancholy; meeting the scoundrel; jealousy requires good lungs;  “Tell me the truth”

9)      The requirement for lies; Maxi languishes; a revolver; message from a friend

10)   Torture: to know or not to know?; hatred personified; scuffle; first aid

11)   Doña Lupe takes charge; Fortunata returns, packs; the ghost of her wickedness

12)   In the confessional box with Nicolás; the priest’s wounded pride; “I’ve always loved him”; gone

Volume Three

I.                    The Café (433)

1)      Juan Pablo Rubín—assassin of time; café emigrations for the political tertulia

2)      Feijóo’s lack of political faith; Don Basilio’s “field”; public employees and sympathy

3)      Stupid and sublime things in a café; 1874—war, outlook for Alfonso’s return

4)      Juan Pablo—Carlos over Alfonso; self-education for argument’s sake; beaten by a priest, emigration

5)      New café, new circles; Ramsess II; a creditor appears, another emigration

6)      Feliciana and Olmedo; Feijóo has seen Fortunata; self-education toward anarchy; futile efforts of conversion; a job offer

II.                  The Victorious Restoration (457)

1)      Alfonso returns; restoration without reformation; Jacinta knows about the kept woman

2)      Boredom with sin; the tell-tale signs of the affair; being lent her husband

3)      Self-pride despite inferiority; the unfortunate woman and his debts; “imagine you’re me”; anything for his angel

4)      A visit from Adoración; Moreno-Isla returns to Spain; Spain to an outsider; a personal farewell vs. a visit

III.                The Revolution Fails (475)

1)      Switching regimes; “I pay for both of us”; Juan’s well-timed exit

2)      A long walk; She’s stealing my husband; fear replaces anger; escorted home by Feijóo

IV.                A Course in Practical Philosophy (484)

1)      Feijóo and practicality; “I was born pueblo and I’ll stay pueblo”; Feijóo holds back

2)      Feijóo can’t wait; Fortunata wants to be decent without going back to her husband; the colonel’s proposal

3)      What had to happen happened; resignation; the rules; contentment; a peculiar man

4)      Fortunata physically flourishing; Moor’s Gate; idol and protégé together

5)      Feijóos’ speedy physical decline; “What’s going to become of you when I die, chulita?”

6)      Feijóos’ practical suggestion; the servant’s curiosity; Feijóos’ catechism

7)      Feijóos proceeds with his plan; change in government means change in clothes; family news from Juan Pablo

8)      Feijóos wins Doña Lupe to play; Refugio; philosophy in the café; Maxi and Feijóos leave café

9)      Evangelical versus social forgiveness; father/daughter; possibilities; principles vs. appearances

10)   Choose…ahem…carefully; a slave to manners and appearances; settling accounts, helping others

V.                  Another Restoration (529)

1)      Doña Lupe’s habit; refinement = aristocracy; situation of Rubín brothers

2)      Instructions; Maxi’s inability to visit; Fortunata in the living room; restoration

3)      Mauricia in the street; stories about Maruricia—with the Protestants, lassoed by Guillermina

4)      Fondness toward Maxi develops; Feijóo’s visits; off to visit a dying Mauricia

VI.                Spiritual Naturalism (545)

1)      Visiting Mauricia at Severiana’s place; Guillermina visits; Mauricia tells Fortunata about Jacinta’s visit

2)      Preparations for Communion—Guillermina takes charge; Sr. Ido; “Repent for everything, kid”

3)      Processions and Communion; Jacinta brings Adoración to see Mauricia, meets Fortunata; tears

4)      Mauricia’s attacks; ramblings with Fortunata; Doña Lupe stays the night to impress Guillermina

5)      Fortunata assists; Jacinta stops by again; Fortunata and Jacinta talk; attack, escape

6)      Fortunata returns home; deliriums; rivalry, hatred, wish for freedom

7)      Pity; canonship; visitors, including Doña Casta Morena; struggling for words with Feijóo

8)      Maxi’s disorder and irritation; adoption?

9)      Maruricia’s death; visiting the wake; Guillermina leads Fortunata to a conversation

10)   Guillermina’s questions, Fortunata’s confession; Guillermina’s promise of confession; the ideal image

11)   Guillermina walks Fortunata home; they plan another meeting

VII.              That Idea, That Crafty Idea (595)

1)      Guillermina and her nephew Moreno-Isla; Jacinta helps Guillermina wheedle money out of him; the hand chapter

2)      Fortunata visits Guillermina, Jacinta listens; “my real husband”; “I can give him another”

3)      Guillermina’s lie; “He said: ‘What’s become of you, baby?’”; the idea again; the truth; “Thief!”

4)      Exeunt Fortunata; aversion gaining control; wandering the streets in a dream, or in a dream wandering the streets?

5)      A little freedom; “Baby!”; into the cab; fate

Volume Four

I.                    On Ave Marie Street (619)

1)      Maxi’s mistakes; his reading; waiting for Fortunata; powers of observation waning; spiritual drowsiness

2)      Maxi’s mania; paranoia, and just a bit sad

3)      The worst of the attack; Ballester’s wish; calm; pharmacology and music

4)      Olimpia and the martyrdom of a keyboard; Aurora’s history; the linen shop; Aurora’s message to Fortunata

5)      Treatise on Madrid water; the Santa Cruz family vacation news; Ballester flirts with Fortunata

6)      Doña Lupe senses Fortunata’s third amorous foray; desiring complete absolution or condemnation; confiding, Doña Lupe’s radiance; is money involved?

7)      Heat and repetition; Maxi’s formula…or doctrine; revelation; completely gone

8)      Maxi trapped in the “recondite seething of his own thoughts”; improvement; Fortunata’s sorrow; news—return, speculation

9)      A tramp and a dunce; a kinder, gentler Maxi; the unperformed practical joke

10)   Fortunata ill; Maxi’s talk of suicide, how to free the soul?

11)   Ballester and Fortunata; his advice for her (among flirting); the go-between; a wedding party

12)   Aurora tells Fortunata on Moreno-Isla’s past and present; no virtue exists?

II.                  Insomnia (664)

1)      Moreno-Isla’s woes; a nasty-symptom—love; the Rx; “could I have children?”

2)      Barbarita’s plan; pallor, weariness, distractedness; ecstasy; a crumbling heart

3)      Bewitched; hallucinating; plans to leave; emotional and physical scars

4)      Guillermina and Moreno-Isla; dejection; strolling during Mass; patients for an asylum

5)      Moreno-Isla’s plans to leave; buying gifts; meets Jacinta; “the most unfortunate man in the world”

6)      Guillermina and her nephew; plans on leaving, continued; dreams of/with Jacinta; the dry leaf falls

III.                Dissolution (689)

1)      Ballester knows about Fortunata’s meetings; Juan breaks up with Fortuanta after she insults Jacinta; virtue?

2)      The aftermath of Moreno-Isla’s death; Fortunata’s suspicions and Aurora’s help

3)      Fortunata and Doña Lupe fight; “My soul’s falling apart”; “You’ve come too late”; Maxi’s improvement (?)

4)      The gospel of disinterestedness and annulment; “You’re pregnant”; the child of Pure Thought

5)      Knives; the pain of restitution; better to leave; interest in the principal

6)      Escape; a visit to an old friend; confession of a deed; flash and eclipse in the ruins; loss

7)      Back to the Cava; dirt and grime

8)      The missing wife; “make believe she’s dead”; brooding; Juan Pablo’s needs, his servility;  Maxi’s jealousy, improvement (?)

IV.                New Life (717)

1)      Estupiñá the rent-collector; repairs needed; a lonely life; should forgiveness be asked? It depends; I’ve got more than Latin

2)      Blizzard; a Maxi sighting; alone in a cage; Ballester visits; interest in and for Fortunata; the model José Izquierdo

V.                  The Logic of Illogical Thinking (725)

1)      Maxi—the exercise of logic; at the Gallo café; Izauierdo and the bundle with Fortunata’s boots

2)      With logic alone; clues amid deceptive performances; Ido’s attack

3)      “Logic demands her death”; “extra sanity to give”; Maxi’s proofs to Doña Lupe; Juan Pablo’s poor timing

4)      Juan Pablo rails against society (really Doña Lupe); Maxi sees Aurora and Juan; Maxi’s dream of justice; “the bad bird hatched an egg”

5)      Doña Lupe muses on situation; talks over news with her nephew; Juan Pablo’s despair

6)      Governorship; acclaim and congratulations; going to province without Refugio

VI.                The End (748)

1)      Ballester visits Fortunata and baby; news all around; Ballester now friends with the critic

2)      Fortunata’s tertulia; her trust in Ballester; “Laws are a lot of stupid nonsense”; Estupiñá’s visit

3)      Baptism; Maxi visits Fortunata, speech; “an impossible marriage”; “a consummated divorce”; a view of the baby

4)      The knife—Maxi tells Fortunata of Juan’s affair with Aurora; “What did you want—to wound and not be wounded?”

5)      Guillermina’s visit; Fortunata’s dream

6)      Ballester; another guardian for Juan Evaristo; Visitación confirms the affair; Fortunata brings Aurora something; a room in hell

7)      The multi-level tertulia on the steps: Guillermina, Ballester, Maxi, Izquierdo, Segunda; Fortunata returns

8)      Fortunata tells of settling the score; Maxi and Guillermina; “Unfaithfulness punishes unfaithfulness”; natural courses and justice

9)      Maxi’s lesson for Fortunata; her deal with Maxi: “Do you want me to love you with all my heart and soul?”

10)   Ballester’s devotion; drying up; shopping for wet nurses; Guillermina with Estupiñá; Jacinta calls; masses; Jacinta’s respect; Barbarita

11)   Fortunata confesses to Guillermina; they discuss Jacinta; Guillermina’s decrees

12)   Maxi’s gun; Fortunata’s dream of friendship; Ballester’s concerns; Segunda repeats Doña Lupe’s gossip; “I haven’t been unfaithful”

13)   The bottle is necessary; “you’re going to be queen of the world”; the wound deep within; Fortunata’s will

14)   What revives Fortunata; Guillermina’s efforts; “I’m an angel”; Father Nones arrives; death

15)   Balester’s babbling; funeral arrangements; Maxi locked up; plans for “the precious acquisition”; Juan’s confession; a nobody to his wife

16)   The funeral, and the makings of a play or novel; Ballester’s grief; Maxi visits her grave; Feijóo’s funeral; nature as corrective; “She was an angel”; to the “monastery”