The Maias summary

A summary of the posts on The Maias by Eça de Queirós, as well as some additional notes.

José Maria Eça de Queirós online resources
The Maias: resources

The Maias discussion: Chapters 1 - 6
The Maias discussion: Chapters 7 - 10
The Maias discussion: Chapters 11 - 14
The Maias discussion: Chapters 15 - 18



Image of The Maias cover is from Wikipedia.

The Maias discussion: Chapters 15 – 18

Os Vencidos da Vida (Those Defeated by Life)
Eça de Queirós in front row with walking stick
Photo from www.arqnet.pt

The end of the book comes with mixed feelings: satisfaction from reading such a wonderful novel, dissatisfaction with many characters that cannot develop, and reevaluation of everything that has happened to date.

The generational differences are still highlighted, but the light comes from a different angle. The young poseurs still act immaturely, with little morality or ambition. But the older generation comes under harsher scrutiny. The reader begins to wonder if “the old days” are like a Homeric golden age, myths elevating people and events to a grander scale than really existed. Ega’s admiration of Alencar comes with the realization that talent has sunk so low that the poet “takes on the proportions of a genius and a man of justice.” When Afonso dies, the family administrator rattles off the wealth of one of Portugal’s richest families. Yet what else did he create? A son that killed himself and a grandson that effectively killed Afonso—not that he is responsible for their failings, but that his reputation as an “old lion” and his legacy appear to be superficial. Eça de Queirós demonstrates a marked disdain for Portuguese aristocratic society, some no doubt due to his personal circumstances, but he elevates the questioning to include the myths and the costs of past accomplishments of individuals as well as country. Even the incest angle seems to reflect on the moneyed class as a whole, a group that amorally poaches each other’s spouses within their tight circle instead of seeking normal relationships.

Fortunately not all the characters are disappointing. Minor characters like Cruges and Craft are shown actually completing endeavors, contributing something of value. Of the main characters, Maria Eduarda was easily the most likable and sympathetic. For someone that had been repeatedly given a raw deal, she succeeded on several levels. She declines her opportunity for instant wealth, choosing instead security for her and her daughter.

Fortunately the wry humor continues in this section, such as the events leading to Dâmaso’s exile or his marriage to a woman that cuckolds him. Even the running gags persist, such as the comments about the divan in Carlos’ office or the cheese pastries from Sintra. Echoes of previous events continue (Carlos giving Eusèbiozinho another beating, for example) but one such event helps sum up much of the book's trajectory. Upon Carlos’ return to Lisbon after more than nine years’ absence, he invites his friends to dinner, repeatedly telling them to be on time. This request echoes the family administrator being rushed to the meal table when we meet Carlos as a child because “the young master doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Despite Carlos’ generosity of money and home to his friends (things he can easily give without making an effort), causing his friends to wait because he is late to the reunion dinner encapsulates his ultimate disregard of anything outside himself.

Toward the end of the epilogue chapter, Ega and Carlos discuss philosophies of life. The reader can be sure Ega believes only two parts: his statement that there was a futility in all effort, and that “We have failed in life, my friend!” (A nice reference in the latter—the pictures in this post are of Os vencidos da vida, or “those defeated by life”, a group of Portuguese intellectuals including Eça de Queirós with a highly ironic name for an accomplished group.) Carlos lays out a fatalism he purports to have as his guide: “Desire nothing and fear nothing…allow that piece of organized matter called the ‘I’ gradually to deteriorate and decompose…above all, have no appetites… .” Quite a far cry from the self-absorbed libertine who continued to sleep with his sister even after he knew of her origin, and it would be nice to believe he has achieved those beliefs. He has desired nothing in his life because there was nothing he could not obtain until he fell in love with Maria Eduarda. It is clear he desires nothing now since he rationalizes that being “the rich gentleman who lives well” (full of inoffensive, pleasant fun which is ultimately insignificant) suits him well. It is clear the appetites remain and his acceptance of what happens is limited to the distant past.

Ega is unconvincing in his philosophy as well (except for the previously mentioned statements) but then he has lived his life with "appearance and deceit" as his maxim. “And what are we, if not romantics?” exclaimed Ega. “What have we been since we were at school…? Romantics, which is to say, inferior individuals ruled in life by feelings and not by reason.” Which is true to a certain point. He has already ruled out relying on reason since he flippantly contradicts himself all the time. But there are only a couple of times you can be sure that Ega has felt anything: his heartbreak at having “lost” Raquel Cohen back to her husband and his friendship for Carlos. Beyond those things it is difficult to point to anything substantive that Ega has felt other than doing things for his enjoyment. To drive home that nothing has changed with these friends despite their comforting philosophies, at the very end of the novel we have Ega touting:

”If someone were to tell me that down there the fortune of a Rothschild or the imperial crown of Carlos V were just waiting for me, and that it could be mine if I ran to grab it, I wouldn’t so much as quicken my step. No! I would maintain this slow, prudent, proper step, which is the only pace at which one should walk anywhere in life.”

Carlos agrees: “It’s not worth making an effort or chasing furiously after anything.” Even if you wanted to believe them, all of this is said as the two are “racing desperately” after a tram to take them to their reunion dinner.

Os Vencidos da Vida (Those Defeated by Life)
Eça de Queirós sitting at table
Photo from www.vidaslusofonas.pt

The Maias discussion: Chapters 11 – 14

The melodrama continues…

The plot of The Maias is rather thin, standard soap opera fare, but the richness of the telling is the reason to read the book. Not just the characters, but 1880s Portugal comes to life. The relationships between the male characters develop and seem truer to life than most novels. Rarely do I feel like condemning the immature or horrid acts of the characters as Eça de Queirós has presented them completely, not just a caricature. Also, even though he telegraphs major plot developments, getting there is most of the enjoyment. So a few notes on that enjoyment…

The echoing or doubling of action continues to surface. Just a few of the examples:

• Maria Eduarda’s acts of charity, compared to that of Maria Monforte as well as Afonso,
• Carlos stumbling upon Miss Sara having sex with a farm laborer while he is going to his tryst with Maria Eduarda (and of course the irony of his condemnation and hypocrisy of his rationalization). The additional irony is Maria Eduarda’s evaluation of Sara’s attitude toward Portugal: “Oh, she loathes it already! It’s too hot and smelly, the people are hideous…oh, and she goes in fear of being insulted in the street…In short, she’s miserable and can’t wait to leave.”
• Carlos’ affair with the Countess unraveling as compared to Ega’s embarrassment with Raquel Cohen,
• Maria Eduarda’s love of order in her house, even though her personal life hides a deep disorder.

One metaphor that appears several times in Chapter 14 has to do with mud:

“If,” he [Carlos] wrote to Ega, “she really has passed from you to Dâmaso, then you must act just as you would if your cigar had fallen in the mud; you can’t possibly pick it up and continue smoking it yourself; you should, therefore, simply allow the urchin who did pick it up to smoke it in peace; getting angry with the urchin or the cigar is quite simply imbecilic.”

Yet will he take his own advice when he finds out the marital status of Maria Eduarda, when it felt like it was “something very beautiful and lofty and resplendent having suddenly fallen and shattered in the mud, leaving him horribly splattered”?

Carlos may be partially progressing toward a maturity that he has so far lacked, yet he is like most of the moneyed class in Lisbon with his lack of accomplishments. The only achievements he can point to so far (in the book) is a college degree, his house refurbishments/decorations, and a couple of articles published. Listening to the upper class decry the low state of affairs in Portugal (the topic of the difficulty in finding good help at the Count’s dinner is just one hilarious example) while they do little to revive the state is both funny and pathetic. While there are limited examples of people trying to change things, most of the talk is empty rhetoric or bluster. Sousa Neto at the Count’s dinner is a prime example, showing his ignorance of literature even though he works in the Education Department. Not to mention his son is an undersecretary sent to St. Petersburg but doesn’t speak French, a decided handicap with Russia’s aristocracy.

(Sidenote: the wine references in the book definitely point out how well this class is living. Afonso gives six bottles of Ch. Margaux to Carlos’ first patient, while it isn’t uncommon to open a nice Chambertin or Champagne or Sauternes with dinner. Just a little detail, but helps illuminate that lifestyle.)

The idealism that is occasionally expressed is mixed with futility and defeat, helping explain the unbounded energy of many of the characters but the lack of focus in doing anything with it other than having affairs and living well. The feeling is that Portugal has peaked, its glory days with its colonies and importance in the world long past, while the slide into oblivion will have to be abated by someone else. Or somewhere else.

Lastly, two quotes that seem to underlie much of the action so far:

[Carlos] “The thing is, Craft, we never know whether what happens to us is, ultimately, good or bad.”

“Ordinarily speaking, it’s bad, said Craft tartly….”

and

[Dâmaso] “You know,” he said, “I have a feeling you’re going to turn out to be yet another scoundrel. One can’t trust anyone!”

[Carlos] “Everything in this world, Dâmaso, is mere appearance and deceit!”

The Maias discussion: Chapters 7 – 10

One thing that stood out for me in this section is the use of parallels or comparisons, where events echo a previous occurrence or current situation. Some examples:

• Carlos’ first viewing of Maria Eduara Gomes echoes that of his father, Pedro, seeing Maria Monforte for the first time. Not only their reaction, but their language is the same with repeated usage of the word “goddess.”
• The scandal Ega causes as his affair with Raquel Cohen is made public precedes and foreshadows the affair Carlos Maia begins with the Countess. Carlos’ trip to Sintra to try and ‘run into’ Maria Gomes is unproductive, as is traveling companion Cruges’ mission to bring home some cheese pastries for his mother.
• There are even running gags throughout, with Carlos’ office couch the source of many jokes as to its real purpose (Ega—“I like this sofa. Made for love.” The Marquis ““tested its springs and said, with a wink: “Just the thing, eh, Carlos!” And later, the Countess sees it as “that soft, ample seat worthy of a seraglio.”)
• The pimp Palma explains to Eusébio “the best way to treat Spanish women” (a sharp beating, followed by kindness), which is what happens when Cohen finds out about his wife’s infidelity with Ega (although Raquel isn't Spanish).

Generational differences and the decline of Portugal continue to be major themes. Everyone seems to have an idea of why everything around them is in decline, whether traceable to those in power or to the people themselves. Afonso views it as the latter, noting “We Portuguese will never be men of ideas because of our passion for form. … The thought may have been lost, but the beautiful phrase has been saved.” On several outings, the disrepair and dilapidation of many of the estates and houses are highlighted. Yet there are still some characters that defend Portugal and its potential while admitting to the decline the see around them. The easy mixture of different generations at Ramalhete shows some hope for the transition of generations, particularly when debate covers basic behavior, like when the Marquis argues with Craft:

“…conscience is merely a matter of upbringing. It’s something you acquire, like good manners. Suffering in silence because you’ve betrayed a friend is something you learn, just as you learn not to pick your nose in public. It’s all a matter of upbringing. Otherwise, conscience is just the fear of prison or of the big stick.”

Yet there are still troubling signs around the country such as the amount of soldiers present at the big race day. Were they there simply because the King was present or was it a sign of further unrest? However when juxtaposed with the amusing view of the Lisbon social scene at the race (pretentious at best, but mostly crude), the negative tones of the soldiers’ presence is minimized.

The mixture of the generations at Ramalhete also sets the stage for discussion on the arts and literature of the day, along with weaving in (then) current events and actual people in Europe. Alencar’s railing against modern literature manages to be both funny and sad. Also discussed are the protocols of having a successful affair (“He admires the wife and flatters the husband”). At times it seems that Lisbon is only populated by libertines and cuckolds. I think I can safely say The Maias is the 19th century book most open regarding sexuality that I’ve read so far.

Eça de Queirós’ style continues to be fun to read, although after a while the protracted set-up between Carlos and Maria Eduarda Gomes grows tiresome. Fortunately it is still enjoyable on all other counts.

The Maias discussion: Chapters 1 – 6

Eça de Queirós’ novel is a chronicle of the Maia family and, to some extent, of Portugal in the 19th century. While I’m only a quarter of the way through the book, it reminds me of a Benito Pérez Galdós novel I’ve read (which is a good thing). The first six chapters give a quick history of the Maias down to Carlos Eduardo da Maia, following the family and Carlos through his graduation from University.

While there is a lot going on with the story, I’ll mainly focus on two major themes. One is the decline of Portugal on the world stage. Much is made of the country’s increasing irrelevance, not just with the world but even within the country. At almost every turn there is disappointment voiced over some failing of the government or its citizens. João da Ega, Carlos’ close friend, sums it up in one of his many diatribes:

“In that case,” said Ega, “if there aren’t enough women, we’ll have to import them, which is what usually happens in Portugal. Here we import everything. Ideas, laws, philosophies, theories, plots, aesthetics, sciences, style, industries, fashions, manners, jokes, everything arrives in crates by steamship. Civilisation comes at a very high price, what with the customs duties one has to pay, and, besides, it’s second-hand, it wasn’t made for us, and so it’s all a bit short in the sleeve. We imagine that we’re civilized in just the same way as the blacks in São Tomé imagine that they’re gentlemen, or even that they’re white, merely because they wear the boss’s old tailcoat over their loincloth. We’re nothing but a useless lazy rabble.”

Ega even condemns fellow countrymen for complimenting his unwritten book, simply because the praise is phrased in a manner he finds cloddish. While much of the blame for the decline is laid at the feet of 19th century history in Portugal (repeated foreign invasions, disintegrating empire, financial woes, etc.), another theme highlighting a generational conflict reinforces and complements the national slide. The tension is not an overt clash but a continual move away from traditional values, leaving each generation a little more unmoored and less grounded. It can be as simple as Pedro and Maria viewing Afonso as antiquated (“the world has moved on and left behind it the starchy attitudes of the sixteenth century”). Or it can be more complicated as reflected in the levels of accepted decadence. The financial bankruptcy of the government seems to be a symbol of the country’s moral bankruptcy.

Also feeding into this is the social stratification, with the moneyed and landed class free to pursue self-indulgence and cost is no object. With nothing to do and all the time to do it, the younger generation’s energy is unchanneled. They spout the most revolutionary rhetoric assuming that it possibly couldn’t happen or that, even if it did, they would not bear any of the costs. Afonso reflects the best of the older generation, strict but with a loving heart. Carlos, despite having everything provided by his grandfather, fails to pursue anything constructive beyond his initial flurries of interest. Eça de Queirós presents all of this non-judgmentally, letting the action speak for itself.

The blend of history and fiction yields a rich tapestry of late 19th-century Portugal. It doesn’t appear that the impending twists and turns will be much of a surprise since Eça de Queirós weakly hides or misdirects major items that will play a part later in the book (or so I’m guessing at this point). Yet it is still a wonderful read and highly recommended. I hope to post a list of characters and footnotes that will benefit those discovering this book.

The Maias: resources

I started reading The Maias and quickly found myself lost during references to Portuguese history. I'm sure I will find more things I'm ignorant about, but for starters here are a few links that help make sense of the background events in the book:

Portuguese history: Fourth Dynasty (1640 - 1910) at Wikipedia

More detail at Wikipedia about The Liberal Wars (1828 - 1834)

A map of Portugal featuring regions and major cities

Update: Some helpful background can also be found in The Political History of Nineteenth Century Portugal. Also includes some description and discussion of Regenerationist movement.

Update 3 Oct 2011: Thanks to Amateur Reader for pointing to Michael Wood's review in the London Review of Books.