151
BPG, Obras inéditas, ed. Alberto Ghiraldo, II: Arte y crítica (Madrid: Renacimiento, 1923).
152
BPG, Obras inéditas, ed. Alberto Ghiraldo, IV: Política española, ii (Madrid: Renacianiento, 1923).
153
Op. cit., 128-129.
154
BPG, Obras completas, ed. F. C. Sáinz de Robles (Madrid: Aguilar, 1961). All references to Nazarín, Halma and Misericordia come from this collection, vol. V (1961). Following each page number there will be either an "a" or a "b", which refer to the column on the reader's left and right, respectively, on each page.
155
The phrase and its underlying concept are borrowed from my teacher, Stephen Gilman, who first made them known to me some years ago in a graduate seminar on Galdós at Harvard University. Professor Gilman has illustrate the usefulness of their application in his «The Birth of Fortunata», AG, I (1966), 71-83 (v also Carlos Blanco Aguinaga, «On 'The Birth of Fortunata'», AG, III [1968], 13-24; Blanco, while not contesting specifically Gilman's application of the concept, did differ with him in the overall interpretation of Fortunata y Jacinta, thereby initiating one of the most fertile literary polemics in Galdós studies; v Gilman's responses, «Narrative Presentation in 'Fortunata y Jacinta'», RHM, XXXIV [1968], 288-301, and «The Consciousness of Fortunata», AG, V [1970], 55-66).
156
E.g., «pues las referencias nazarinistas... (1736, b)»; «en las crónicas nazaristas... (1764, a)». The italics are Galdós' own. In his Discurso académico Galdós explicitly disparages «official» chronicles: «Quizás podría comprobarse lo contrario después de investigar con criterio penetrante la vida de los pueblos, haciendo más caso de la documentación privada que de los relatos de la vieja Historia, comúnmente artificiosa y recompuesta... Teniendo esto en cuenta, no creo dislate asegurar que en los llamados Siglos de Oro hay no poco de aparato oficial o ficción palatina; hechura de cronistas asalariados, o de historiadores de oficio, más atentos a la composición de su arte, que a reproducir la interna verdad política. No dan valor sino a las que son o aparecen ser acciones culminantes, y descuidan, como asunto prosaico y baladí, el verdadero sentir y pensar de los pueblos. (second italics mine)» See Discursos leídos ante la Real Academia Española en la recepción pública del Sr. D. ..., edición académica (Madrid: Est. Tip. de la Viuda e Hijos de Tello, 1897), p. 15.
157
Galdós himself uses the word «fantástico» to describe the scene: e.g., «El portal... con todo el revoco desconchado en mil fantásticos dibujos... (1679, b)»; «El patio... era de una irregularidad, más que pintoresca, fantástica (1680, a)».
158
The implications of Carnival are incredibly complex and contradictory. I do not mean this in 20th century American terms, but in 19th century Spanish terms. More pagan than religious in character, Carnival, especially its last day, the «martes de Carnaval» preceeding Ash Wednesday, was a period of uncommon disorder in Galdós' Spain, especially among the urban lower classes. It was not merely a festival, a few days' diversion; it was the one time of year when one was permitted, by virtue of masks, to act out one's fantasies, to alter for the moment one's social role and also one's sexual role. Women dressed as men, and vice versa, the poor berated middle and upper class passers-by, members of the upper classes caroused with workers, etc. Carnival was not really disorder; it was, rather, the waiving of the normal social order and the prevailing value systems, as Julio Caro Baroja, El Carnaval (Madrid: Taurus, 1968), puts it (pp. 47-51, 90-92, 145). Hence, Carnival in Galdós' Spain also provided the opportunity to be, however temporarily, someone else. In this connection, Nazarín's clothing is important, for he considers his clerical garb (in Part III) a «máscara» (1719, b). Ironically, on the other hand, others such as Belmonte believe his beggar's clothing to be a «cristiano disfraz» (1727, b).
159
The use of Carnival is indeed a stroke of genius on Galdós' part. Carnival is the great metaphor for the totally fluid reality of the urban poor in the 19th and 20th centuries. Denoting as it does the inversion or suspension of the social and moral orders, as well as the alteration of social and sexual roles, Carnival is the expression of the chaos into which the rural poor rushing into the urban centers were thrown; it likewise describes the unreliability of so-called reality, the inconsistency of the rapidly changing world both at work and at home, the constant and traumatizing insecurity based on fears that jobs would be lost, landlords would evict, authorities would, for no apparent reason, swoop down and arrest the totally vulnerable poor. The movement from country into town meant, for the poor, leaving a relatively stable, traditional situation in which everything from topography to demography, and cultural, social and religious structures, were well-defined and recognizable. In the city, everything was inverted. Living and working conditions were totally unrelated to past experience; one had to unlearn old habits and customs, indeed most of one's personal past, and begin all over again, learning new trades, new modes of behavior and living. Eating habits, family relationships, health and disease, indeed all of life itself, were thrown into flux. The reasons for living and dying were themselves different.
Galdós describes Carnival in several newspaper articles and portrays it, over the years, with increasing displeasure. His perceptions suggest a progressive degeneration of the holiday: from Catholic to pagan, from grace and merriment to grotesqueries, from a festival celebrated by all to one observed only by the lower classes. See, e.g., William H. Shoemaker's two most recent -and excellent, as well as timely and informative- collections, Los artículos de Galdós en «La Nación», 1865-1866, 1868, recogidos, ordenados y dados nuevamente a luz con un estudio preliminar de... (Madrid: Ínsula, 1972), pp. 37-39, 275-278, 412, 435-438; and Las cartas desconocidas de Galdós en «La Prensa» de Buenos Aires (Madrid: Ediciones de Cultura Hispánica, 1973), pp. 69-71, 223-225. Galdós' thoughts about illusion and reality during Carnival, and about masks -both social and celebrative- i.e., that we wear masks all year long and only exhibit our true selves at Carnival time, are reminiscent of Larra; v, e.g., the cynical and well known artículo «El mundo todo es máscaras. Todo el año es Carnaval», Mariano José de Larra, Artículos completos, ed. Melchor de Almagro San Martín (Madrid: Aguilar, 1961), pp. 208-220.
160
E.g., when Nazarín dons the beggar's garb, a mask which makes his appearance more consonant with the role lie wishes to play (1706, b-1707, b). It must be pointed out that the emphasis here is not on the taking off of the priest's clothes but the creation of a new identity via the creation of a new appearance. This emphasis shifts later and Nazarín (as indicated above, n. 12) thinks of his priest's cloth as the «máscara». Truly, he has become his role. As we well know, Galdós did indeed consider clothes a mask (v, e.g., their importance in Fortunata y Jacinta) which often had the power of creating new realities for their wearer. See also Miguel Ferdinandy, «Carnaval y revolución», RO, III, no. 28 (1965), 47-67.