171
Nazarín's humility as a source of pride is easily documented. Nazarín does not have a congregation because, he informs the reporters, «la vida boba de coro no cuadraba a su natural independiente (1687, a)». Such scorn and rebelliousness are strange in a man professing conformity, humility and resignation. While arguing with Belmonte, he is a self-conscious braggart: «mis apariencias humildes no significan ignorancia de la Fe que profeso, ni de la doctrina que puedo enseñar a quien lo necesite. No temo nada, y si alguien me impusiera el martirio en pago de las verdades cristianas, al martirio iría gozoso (1723, b)». At the dinner table he likewise keeps tabs on his own behavior to make sure be is keeping up appearances: «-Señor, -balbució el penitente, turbado y confuso-, ¿con esta facha mísera he de sentarme a mesa tan elegante?... Comprendiendo que la gazmoñería no cuadraba a su humildad sincera, don Nazario se sentó. Una negativa insistencia habría resultado más bien afectado orgullo que amor de la pobreza (1724, b - 1725, a)». Nazarín's reactions to the news that a smallpox epidemic has broken out need no comment: «-Porque hay viruela. -¡Que me place!... Digo, no me place. Es que celebro encontrar el mal humano para luchar con él y vencerlo (1731, b)». It ought to be emphasized that a smallpox epidemic is scarcely the kind of «mal humano» usually associated with the term. Perhaps most scandalous of all is his hypocritical verbal duel with his followers, demonstrating as it does an outrageous preoccupation with form rather than with the feeling of religious faith: «-Padeceremos, sí; yo más que vosotras. -¿Nosotras no? Pues eso no estaría bien. No, nosotras lo mismo, y si a mano viene, más. -No, dejadme a mí que padezca lo más (1745, b)».
172
For example, we can read a miracle into Nazarín's visit with the sick child as do several characters in the novel, or we can look at the visit as just that and nothing more; in this specific episode, the text allows both possibilities. Elsewhere, the text undercuts the general outlines of the novel, as shown.
173
Lest we rush to interpret this thought as saintly asceticism typical of sixteenth-century Spain, we ought first to reconsider it, for example, in the light of Galdós' ironic treatment of the Belmonte episode.
It is also worthy of note that John Kronik has given the same phrase a significance diametrically opposed to the interpretation suggested in this essay (v p. 4 of his study; Professor Kronik's paper, also presented at the Galdós Seminar in Chicago, is included in this volume of AG). That two scholars would, eighty years after the fact, see the same statement so differently is an irony Galdós would indeed appreciate.
174
Libros y autores modernos, 2nda. ed. (New York: Las Américas, 1964), p. 348.
175
In point of fact, the title of the novel and the name of its protagonist may have been Galdós' way of warning us from the very beginning. It is also interesting to note that as he progresses from a formalistic figure to a truly evangelical individual, Benina, Galdós' titles undergo important alterations: Nazarín is the name of a person; Halma is not only a proper noun but is also substantive for a spiritual entity; whereas Misericordia, while substantive for a feeling also implies the relationship in which the feeling is exhibited. It seems reasonable to believe that the progression person-spirit-spiritual relationship is not coincidental.
176
Many readers find Galdós' suggestions and «solutions» in conflict with their personal ideological positions. While we must accept the fact that Galdós' political and socio-economic preferences are reflected both in the shape and content of his novels, it is also our responsibility to keep personal judgements about the «rightness» of his biases in perspective. As readers of Galdós, we do both him and ourselves an injustice if we judge his literary abilities solely on the basis of our individual value systems. If, for example, we are to condemn Galdós as a bourgeois sentimentalist (as this writer feels inclined to do), we must nevertheless acknowledge his magisterial talents in the literary arena. Raymond Carr soundly argues this point in «A New View of Galdós», AG, III (1968), 185-190.
177
The impact of urbanization on Spanish society, particularly in terms of its destructive effects on the value systems and lifestyles of poor and rich alike, is discussed in Peter B. Goldman, Galdós' «Pueblo»: A Social and Religious History of the Urban Lower Classes in Spain, 1885-1898, in progress.
178
This terrible problem, at once ambiguous and contradictory, is perhaps nowhere better personified than in the short interchange between the alcalde and Nazarín. For both, after all, make sense to a certain degree. The alcalde and Nazarín represent irreconcilable extremes. It must also be emphasized that Nazarín is not a worthless soul. Some of his actions in fact are exemplary, such as his work among the smallpox victims.
179
E.g., Parker, whose analysis is by far the most sensitive attempt to date, calls Nazarín an «allegory» of the life of Christ; v, e.g., 88-98.
180
Barja, loc. cit.; Russell, 128-129.