[La Familia de Pascual Duarte: Camilo Jose Cela.] I just finished reading this book in Spanish. Although I probably missed a lot of the nuances and ironies that won Cela a Nobel Prize, I can say one thing: Pascual Duarte is one strange bird. The book is a long letter within a frame narrative, written by Pascual himself, laying out his whole life (except the details of his death -- included in a kind of postscript letter) (most of it takes place in Extremadura -- sweet!). Some noteworthy events -- Pascual stabs someone on his wedding night (for insulting his manhood), Pascual stabs his wife's lover who also happens to be his sister's lover (for insulting his manhood), Pascual's child dies from 'bad air'(a cough), Pascual's first wife dies from shame about her illegitimate pregnancy, Pascual runs away to Madrid and then the coast, Pascual stabs his mother for silently staring bullets at him, and finally Pascual dies on the gallows -- his last words are "God's will be done".
So, the collective sentiment about Pascual would be that he is a murderer and an all-around asshole. But once these events are placed into context, you become overwhelmed with the feeling that Pascual could not have done otherwise. He was raised in the midst of violence and stagnation, and shaped by a society where the ego is the definition of a person. The acts were already determined before being committed; this is accentuated by the character of the'letter-narrative' -- they actually did happen 50 years before the account was written.
I even find myself wondering about the lack of thought that Pascual puts into his actions. One point in the book he says something to the effect of "that was the one point in my life where I most felt the desire to restrain my violence. But I could not help myself, and as soon as he spoke I followed through with the knife thrust". Instead of seeing Pascual's desire to do otherwise, we instead glimpse his pure confusion at why he acted the way he did. In all of these important moral turning points, Pascual's head enters a fuzzy, removed status and his muscles work for themselves. He usually regains consciousness outside of the village, fleeing through the dawn.
And yet, this lack of debilitating self-questioning (do we call this 'guilt'?) also benefits Pascual. He can walk in the darkness for miles, be in high spirits alone in the middle of Madrid, and keep fighting and raging in the face of horrible circumstances. It is a survival instinct, an inborn tendency to continue the struggle, the unbeatable tooth and bone of the campesino. And really, the best way to continue the fight is to not even see it as a fight at all, but instead as a way of living. This is the force within which we cannot understand, which motivates and powers Pascual, that allows him to keep moving in spite of the horrible turns his life takes. In the end, this inner perpetual action of undefeat is what determines, really, that the last living person in the family of Pascual Darte is Pascual himself, by himself, surrounded by himself. He must keep moving, walking, writing (stabbing?) in the face of everything.
This is what struck me most about the book, that Pascual Duarte seems to be some sort of variation on tragedy. His life was set out for him, and he has to watch horrified as his hand stabs his mother, as his child dies from a simple cough. A depressing view, yes. But ultimately I am comforted by the twist which Cela makes; Duarte realizes his fate, and does not face it with downcast head and fear in his eyes, but instead with a loud death cry of affirmation and hope.
Pascual Duarte as a Spanish novel; Spain is portrayed as a land full of ancient and collective tradition. Because the novel mostly takes place in the dusty countryside of rural Spain, there is an odd lack of technological progress. Madrid is a teeming land of unfamiliarity. One can easily make and subsequently walk away from personal connections in the metropolis. Cities are impersonal places, consequences of capitalism, where you go to buy new tools or things for your house. Pascual had his honeymoon in a city -- the cops were called because they 'made too much noise', and he had to bribe them to keep from going to jail.
As a contrast, the family in the campo is the axis around which Pascual revolves. It always brings him back, no matter how far he tries to pull away. It is the place where he developed, where he belongs, where he knows, where he committed his most important and characteristic actions. When considering La Familia de Pascual Duarte as a specifically Spanish novel, we can see both the creative and destructive sides of inheritance, family, and tradition itself.
