The Tree of Knowledge: summary

Title page of The Tree of Knowledge by Pio Baroja, translated by Aubrey F. G. Bell (Alfred A. Knopf, 1928)

Posts on the novel:

(Part 1) The nose of a cockatoo and more years than the oldest of parrots

(Parts 2 – 3) Charity seemed to have fled from the world

(Part 4) Interlude

(Parts 5 – 7) Nature has resources which are unknown to us

In The Tree of Knowledge Baroja presents different philosophical ways of looking at the world. The main character, Andrés Hurtado, complicates matters further with a skewed perception of the reality around him. Andrés can see things shrewdly but his desire to remain detached from the world he sees as deeply flawed proves to be an ineffectual way to live. His disillusionment with the Spain he inhabits leads him to adopt a rationalist approach to life. Yet this approach constantly fails him—while some presumptions turn out to be correct, many do not. Society is flawed but not to the extent he views it. By withdrawing completely from the world, he fails to recognize the problem that resides within him until the very end of the book.

It may be reading too much into the novel to say that it seems to trace the development of Baroja, from the beliefs of Andrés to those of his uncle Iturrioz. The central part follows a discussion between the two men as Andrés argues for the primacy of science (knowledge). His uncle, however, promotes a practical approach for life. He does not say to abandon the search for knowledge but to recognize its limits. Andrés ignores this advice, practically and symbolically throughout most of the book. This being Baroja, things do not progress linearly but take on many incongruities and present several paradoxes.

As I said in the previous post, I found it very enjoyable and highly recommend it if you can find it. I'd also love to hear from those that are familiar with Baroja and their impression of him and his work...

The Tree of Knowledge: Nature has resources which are unknown to us

This post follows the final three parts of The Tree of Knowledge: Part Five (“A Provincial Experiment”), Part Six (”Experiences at Madrid”), and Part Seven (“A Son”). All quotes from the text use The Tree of Knowledge by Pio Baroja, translated by Aubrey F. G. Bell (Alfred A. Knopf, 1928). I’ll copy the summary of this part from the Wikipedia entry since it does a good job without giving too much away:

The second half of the novel tells the stay of Hurtado (now a doctor) in Alcolea, a fictitious town in Castilla-La Mancha (where the author shows the dreadful conditions the peasant had to endure such as caciquism, ignorance, apathy or resignation), his return to Madrid (where he works as a hygiene doctor — emphasizing the description that Baroja makes of prostitution in the 19th century Madrid) and, finally, his unfortunate marriage to Lulú, a young woman he met when he was a student.

Note that I will talk about the ending and give more away than the Wikipedia entry.

Andrés Hurtado, the doctor, ends up withdrawing as much as possible from life because of his disgust for most of the people around him. These people include his patients, not described as noble poor but a superstitious people unwilling to better their lot, and his friends, who use their money to exempt themselves from morality. There are a few exceptions but they make the depravity of everyone else stand out even more. I had mentioned at the end of Part Two that his uncle believed that man has only “two practical courses open, either to abstain from action and contemplate everything with indifference, or to limit his action to a small area” (124). Andrés chooses abstention and (the tree of) knowledge over (the tree of) life.

Eventually Andrés does expand his boundaries some to include his friendship and eventual marriage with Lulu. She comforts him and provides a bridge to the world. It is when he accedes to Lulu’s wishes to have a child that his immersion back into life goes horribly wrong. Lulu dies in childbirth and their son is stillborn. During his grief, Andrés overhears an unknown doctor state “Nature has resources which are unknown to us.” Andrés commits suicide, perversely proving the unknown doctor right. It isn’t that his belief in science over life proves to be wrong as much as the loss of Lulu shows it to be inadequate.

A wonderful novel, highly recommended (if you can find a copy), albeit difficult to classify. Baroja has definitely grown on me. I'm glad I went out of my way to find this book.

The Tree of Knowledge: interlude

Baroja abruptly halts the storyline at Part Four (“Inquiries”) in order to have a brief philosophical interlude. Andrés Hurtado and his uncle Iturrioz discuss different approaches on how to view life. All quotes are from The Tree of Knowledge by Pio Baroja, translated by Aubrey F. G. Bell (Alfred A. Knopf, 1928).

To date, Andrés has shown a curious mixture of concern for the poor and sick in combination with distance or aloofness from their plight. In this section Andrés makes a strong defense for science and knowledge, arguing that “Science is humanity’s one strong edifice.” (172) The two characters discuss The Tree of Knowledge and The Tree of Life, for the most part ignoring the source of this language. Andrés hopes that science will “cure” the need for religion:

”Kant is the great destroyer of the Greco-Semitic lie [essentially religion]. He found those two trees that you mentioned and drew aside the branches of the tree of life which were stifling the tree of knowledge. After Kant there is but one path in the world of ideas, a narrow and difficult one, that of science. After him, although perhaps without his strength and greatness, comes another destroyer, another Northern bear, Schopenhauer, who cut away the pretences which the master had lovingly maintained through lack of courage to destroy them. Kant begs that the mighty tree of life, which is called liberty and responsibility and right, should be allowed to stand next to the tree of knowledge in order to delight man’s eyes. Schopenhauer, more austere and honest in his thought, cuts away those branches, and life appears dark and blind, full of strength and substance, without justice, without goodness, without aim; a current borne along by an unknown force, which he calls will, and which from time to time, in the midst of organic matter, produces a secondary phenomenon, a phosphorescence of the brain, a reflection, which is intelligence. One can now see these two principles clearly, life and truth, will and intelligence.” (177)

What is Andrés looking for? “What is one to do with one’s life, what direction to give it?” (166) Iturrioz’s response to Andrés echoes some of the nagging thoughts Andrés has expressed to this point. I found Andrés’ forcefulness inconsistent with his earlier doubts about science and knowledge. Iturrioz proves to be both a humanist and a pragmatist, echoing Andrés’ earlier belief that science, even with advancements to come, does not provide an approach to life. In blunter terms, science has failed Andrés to date. Because of this, the dialogue feels somewhat contrived but still very enjoyable (except for the racist turns). Iturrioz agrees that when leaving the sphere of science and entering the sphere of life things become confusing, but maintains that both trees, knowledge and life, are necessary. In addition to knowledge, man must have faith, even if it is illusionary.

The two men agree to disagree and Andrés announces he will return to his medical post in the countryside. There are some interesting parallels and differences with the earlier discussion between the two men at the end of Part Two. Both discussions take place on the rooftop of Iturrioz’s house, literally and symbolically removed from the rest of Madrid. At the end of the first discussion, Andrés feels he is divorced from reality. As both men tire of the discussion int this part, though, they sit back and enjoy the setting of the sun and the scent of plants. Even though they are far apart, there seems reason for hope. We'll see if that hope is supported...

The Tree of Knowledge: Charity seemed to have fled from the world

Parts Two (“The Minglanillas”) and Three (“Sadness and Sorrow”) round out the medical student days of Andrés Hurtado. We follow him through his fourth and final year at medical school, his first (temporary) position in the country, and the care and death of his younger brother. All quotes are from The Tree of Knowledge by Pio Baroja, translated by Aubrey F. G. Bell (Alfred A. Knopf, 1928).

We meet many characters in Part Two, most from the lower classes. Baroja does not pull any punches on these characters—he paints their flaws as well as their attributes, if they have any. So many of these characters seem to be searching for happiness but it isn’t available. A woman (Nini) and her mother deceive themselves about a well-to-do student’s intentions. A journalist attempts to get something from every woman he meets before she finds out how poor he is. The exception is Lulu, the woman Andrés meets (but doesn’t try to seduce). Described as having plenty of charm but worn out at the age of eighteen, she has never had anything enjoyable and does not even try to find a pleasant life.

Like Antoñito Casares the journalist mentioned earlier, there are plenty of people willing to prey on those futilely searching for happiness. Virginia Garciá bills herself as a midwife but what goes on in her house horrifies Andrés: inducing miscarriages, providing abortions, and procuring sexual services for rich men. Virginia’s services are needed since these women have no one else to turn to in their time of need. As Andrés sees it, “Charity seemed to have fled from the world.” (93) Many of the poor seem resigned to their status, believing “the rich, and especially the aristocracy, belonged to a higher order than other men. To an aristocrat everything was permissible—vice, immorality, egoism; he was as it were above common morality.” (109) Andrés found such a philosophy strange that those that “have” have additional rights and privileges over those who “have not”.

So many people seem ill-used, not just by other people but by institutions that are supposed to protect them. The priests described so far have little interest outside their own personal pleasure. Baroja has little good to say about the government, whether through prosecuting those that break the law or in protecting those infringed. People like Victorio, a money-lender’s nephew who takes advantage of others, will more than likely become rich and prosper by preying on others. “In spite of his exploiting the poor and playing Don Juan among the girls, the people of the neighbourhood did not hate Victorio; they all thought what he did very natural and logical.” (119)

The last chapter of Part Two provides a preview to further philosophical discussion between Andrés and his Uncle Iturrioz. His uncle takes a utilitarian view of justice—essentially what suits us is justice, what doesn’t isn’t. He makes it clearer on the macro level: “Justice is a human illusion” (126). Iturrioz believes that man has only “two practical courses open, either to abstain from action and contemplate everything with indifference, or to limit his action to a small area” (124). This doesn’t immediately help Andrés, who is looking for a "possible plan to live with a certain decency” (127). He looks to order his life so that he can improve himself and help those around him. Andrés holds to what he has read in Schopenhauer: suffering is basic to life and our influence for good is minimal.

Even though Andrés has studied medicine, gets his license and is about to get his doctorate, he finds himself powerless from protecting his younger brother, Luisito, from death. Part of that had to do with his taking a temporary position away from Valencia where his brother was recovering. Another reason was his inability to convince those around him to help his brother convalesce. His family wants to stay in a setting not conducive to Luisito’s recovery. Despite Andrés’ attempt to educate the servants as to what his brother needs, their ignorance and superstition keep them from assisting the invalid in the manner needed. Even worse, Andrés feels indifference, an absence of sorrow upon reading of Luisito’s death.

The Tree of Knowledge: the nose of a cockatoo and more years than the oldest of parrots

Bronze statue of Pío Baroja (1872–1956)
Picture source

In looking at my sidebar on books I have reviewed, I see a disproportionate number by Pío Baroja and this post begins another book by him. Part of the reason has to do with limited information in English on Baroja and I have wanted to find out more about his work. Sins commonly attributed to his writing (see his Wikipedia entry for some examples—I’d add repetitiveness, in language and story lines) are present in his work but I have enjoyed them even so.

Although widely considered as his best work, I have been unable to find a copy of The Tree of Knowledge (El árbol de la ciencia) that I could afford. I finely took advantage of our little library’s interlibrary system with local colleges and universities and obtained a copy. So here we go with Part One ("The Life of a Student at Madrid"). All quotes are from The Tree of Knowledge by Pio Baroja, translated by Aubrey F. G. Bell (Alfred A. Knopf, 1928).

Part One follows the study of medicine by Andrés Hurtado in Madrid in the late 1880s and early 1890s. Baroja paints a bleak picture of Madrid, Spain, and the students of the time:

Madrid was living in a fictitious atmosphere formed by an old and unrenovated pragmatism.

The Madrid student, especially if he came from the provinces, arrived with the intention to copy Don Juan and amuse himself, to gamble and make love to women, in fact, as the professor of chemistry said with his usual solemnity, to burn himself out in an atmosphere too full of oxygen.

Except for a religious feeling which most of the students, careless about such matters, did not possess, the students at the end of the nineteenth century came to Madrid with the mentality of those of the seventeenth, and were determined to imitate Don Juan Tenorio to the best of their ability, in a life of
Duels and love affairs
In fierce assault.

The cultured student, however much he might wish to see things as they were and acquire a clear idea of his country and the part it played in the world, was unable to do so. The influence of European culture in Spain was in fact confirmed to technical matters; the newspapers gave an imperfect idea of everything; and the general tendency was to induce the belief that what was great in Spain might be small outside it, and vice versa, in a kind of international bad faith.

If France and Germany never mentioned Spain of spoke of her only in jest, that was because they hated us; our great men, it was solemnly averred, Castelar, Cánovas, Echegaray, were the envy of other nations. The whole of Spain, and especially Madrid, lived in an atmosphere of absurd optimism, and whatever was Spanish was best.

This natural tendency to falsehood and illusion on the part of a country isolated by its poverty, contributed to the stagnation and fossilization of thought. (9-10)

Baroja savages all parts of Spanish society. The priests care nothing for religion. Politicians are vain, corrupt, and inactive. The students are insolent and the professors absurd. People believe that having money gives license for any behavior, excusing all sins.

In this setting we meet Andrés, the medical student who finds sickness sad and depressing. He shows little enthusiasm for medicine, wanting to become a doctor more out of practicality (money, society, etc.) than any desire to help people. Andrés is drawn more to literature and eventually philosophy, of which I’m sure we’ll see more of as the book moves along (let’s just say that Schopenhauer seems to be winning at this point). Interestingly, the only time life seems pleasant to Andrés revolves around the time spent telling his invalid friend about his doings and not in living the actual activities. Andrés wants to study life for something more than the mechanical nature of how things happen, wishing to find the source and, by implication, a meaning. Andrés finds himself admiring certain men in medicine and politics but becomes disillusioned with them as he experiences and learns more about life.

His tendency was toward a spiritual anarchism based on sympathy and pity, without any practical solution.

The fierce and revolutionary logic of such men as Saint Just no longer aroused his enthusiasm: it seemed to him artificial and unnatural. He considered that in life justice did not and could not exist. Life was a vague, tumultuous stream, and the actors in it played a comedy which they were unable to understand, while men who had reached an intellectual outlook contemplated the scene with pity and compassion.

These desultory ideas, this lack of plan and of a restraining purpose made Hurtado’s life very aimless and continually and uselessly agitated his mind. (64)

Baroja, originally trained in medicine, critically looks at the Spain of that time. The patients at the hospital for the poor are treated as something less than human. The dead, of course, are treated worse—corpses used for dissection are dragged through the halls of the university, skulls thumping on steps as they are taken to classrooms. Those practicing medicine don't escape his judgment. When Andrés’ younger brother contracts typhus, the family physician ignored all remedies, instead choosing to outwait the illness. Baroja adds anecdotes that I think have to be on purpose in order to question the meaning of life and how we interpret it. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but the story of the human brain delivered to a professor's home for him to study but accidentally served as part of dinner seems to serve several purposes, not the least of which highlights the fragility of life—the brain comprehending this story could just as well served as a meal.

I don’t mean to imply this section is all doom and gloom. Baroja introduces many interesting characters and I’ll mention two. Antonio Lamela is described as an elderly, backward student. He takes several years to go through one year of study at the university. Lamela turns out to be a Quixote-like character, describing a love for “an aristocrat, a titled lady who drove about in a carriage and had a box at the opera.” (54) When Andrés actually sees the lady of Lamela’s heart, he is amazed to find “she was an ugly dark-complexioned spinster with the nose of a cockatoo and more years than the oldest of parrots. Apart from her unattractiveness, she took no notice of the Galician student and merely gave him a sour and unpleasant look of contempt.” (55) Brother Juan, described as a “strange mysterious character” (70), works at the general hospital, focusing on providing comfort to the contagious cases. His monk-like behavior, always available to those in need and giving away his money when he received it, stands apart from the crude self-centered behavior of most of the others in the hospital.