—20→ —21→ —22→ —23→
Gloria has, I believe, been seriously underrated by those critics who would reduce its import to that of a mere thesis novel. In the present essay, I propose that Gloria is structured not on ideology but on character and that throughout the novel Galdós deliberately poses problems of judgment. Gloria de Lantigua and Daniel Morton are not mouthpieces for Galdós' religious views. Galdós gently prods the reader into assessing the behavior of Gloria and Morton who, despite their protestations of love for others, reveal themselves to be obsessed, self-centered, and self-deceiving. Their violence and egocentricity, and not the clash of rival religions, provoke the dénouement to the novel.
As in the episodios nacionales written at this time, the characters of Gloria also incarnate aspects of the contemporary historical situation of Spain. Galdós' message in the novel is far from the exalted idealism of a Gloria or a Morton. Rather, he suggests the complexity of the world, the difficulty of making judgments, and the impossibility of bending reality to abstract patterns. Although critical of Spanish religious indifference, Galdós does not call into question the teachings of the Church. He does warn, however, against Romantic exaltation. Gloria reflects not Galdós' partisanship of a given ideology, but rather his weariness with ideological disputes.
Critics have always treated Gloria as a novel of thesis. The work was published -Part One in January 1877, Part Two in June 1877-48 at a time of exacerbated religious passions. Conservative sectors in the Church, responding defensively to the onslaughts of liberal criticism and to the political challenges posed by the Italian occupation of Rome and Bismarck's Kulturkampf, stridently proclaimed that «error has no rights». Thus, Pius IX protested the limited tolerance of non-Catholic worship guaranteed by Article 11 of the Spanish Constitution of 1876, a tolerance which, he claimed, «viola del todo los derechos de la verdad de la religión católica».49 In the same year (1876), the young Menéndez Pelayo aggressively championed, in the pages of the Revista Europea, the Catholic contribution to Spanish learning. Galdós himself, in words which Pereda deemed excessively partisan, declared his hatred of the Church's claim to religious monopoly. Freedom of worship, Galdós asserted, would improve the moral, social, and religious life of Spain:
—24→|
Yo abomino la unidad católica y adoro la libertad de cultos. Creo sinceramente que si en España existiera la libertad de cultos, se levantaría a prodigiosa altura el catolicismo, se depuraría la nación del fanatismo y [...] ganaría muchísimo la moral pública y las costumbres privadas, seríamos más religiosos, más creyentes, veríamos a Dios con más claridad, seríamos menos canallas, menos perdidos de lo que somos. En todo soy escéptico...50 |
Galdós' contemporaries immediately saw in Gloria an attack on Catholic practices and teaching, the portrayal of an ideal love thwarted by fanatical dogmatic and social pressures. Approval or disapproval of the novel was determined by the religious orientation of the critic. Clarín, fulsomely praising a novel which taught «free thought» and «universal love», discerned no bias in Galdós' representation of the Lantigua family and Morton («fieles representantes de sus doctrinas, encarnaciones de su credo»); Gloria herself bears no responsibility for her fate, for the authority of religion, society, and family imposes on her «el mal, la injusticia, el error».51 Such supporters of the Church as Pereda, Menéndez Pelayo, and Blanco García, on the other hand, protested that Catholics were caricatured in Gloria. Menéndez Pelayo and Blanco García remarked on the melodramatic nature of the novel and on the implausibility of character and situation. Blanco García, furthermore, objected that the connection between religious truth and tragic love perceived by la crítica racionalista (i.e., Clarín) did not exist.52
Modern scholars have continued to view Gloria as a thesis novel. E. J. Rodgers identifies the theme of the novel to be «religious discord», a discord arising from the clash between intolerance and latitudinarian attitudes. José F. Montesinos states that Galdós' intent was to preach charity and tolerance. W. H. Shoemaker trenchantly declares that «the novel Gloria is unique in attacking fundamental doctrine rather than evil practitioners». Walter T. Pattison finds in the novel the indictment of all religions for their «lack of universal love».53
Like the Catholic critics of the nineteenth century, Rodgers and Montesinos perceive a marked clumsiness in Galdós' handling of his theme. Rodgers deplores melodramatic elements in Gloria, and sees inconsistencies and implausibilities in Galdós' treatment of Daniel Morton and Esther Spinoza.54 These defects, he believes, are to be explained by Galdós' «inexperience» as a novelist. For Montesinos, the reading of Gloria was penosísima. The novel, he declares, had been destroyed by its thesis and is cerebral, abstract, and inexplicably melodramatic; its characters are puppets and, in the case of Gloria and Morton, have internal contradictions.
Although a novelist's statements about his own work are always suspect, Galdós' defense of Gloria, in letters to Pereda, should nonetheless give pause to those who accept traditional ideological interpretations of the novel. His opinions are the more valuable for having been proffered during the composition of the second part of Gloria.
Galdós was manifestly bewildered and distressed by Pereda's accusation that Gloria was a novela volteriana.55 His intent, he declared on two separate —25→ occasions, was to fight religious indifference; the novel was opposed neither to religion nor to Catholicism:
|
Con todo, hay en él [el juicio de Pereda] una aseveración que creo injusta, y es que yo hago novelas volterianas. Precisamente lo que quería combatir es la indiferencia religiosa (peste principal de España, donde nadie cree en nada, empezando por los neo-católicos).56 |
|
Nunca creí hacer una obra antirreligiosa, ni aun anticatólica, pero menos aún volteriana. ¿Qué hay de volterianismo en Gloria? Habrá todo menos eso. Precisamente me quejo allí (y todo el libro es una queja) de lo irreligiosos que son los españoles.57 |
Furthermore, Galdós claims, one cannot prove a religious or a philosophical thesis in the pages of a novel. In Gloria, he presents an event of dramatic interest, nothing more:
|
Yo no he querido probar en dicha novela ninguna tesis filosófica ni religiosa, porque para eso no se escriben novelas. He querido simplemente presentar un hecho dramático verosímil y posible, nada más.58 |
|
Además las novelas no son para quitar ni poner fe, son para pintar pasiones y hechos interesantes...59 |
Critical obsession with thesis has, I believe, grossly impoverished readings of the novel: Gloria is reduced to a simple ideological tract. Problems of judgment manifestly raised by Galdós are ignored. The roles of Gloria and Daniel Morton are viewed above all as subordinate to the thesis of which they are a function.60 Startling discrepancies between assumed thesis and the behavior of characters who, supposedly, exemplify this same thesis are dismissed as evidence of the incompetence or inexperience of Galdós (the author, by early 1877, of eighteen novels).
From the time of publication of Gloria, critics, whether liberal or Catholic, have taken as their starting point two unexamined assumptions:
1) that Galdós is portraying a conflict between the forces of good (the idealistic young lovers) and of evil (Spanish society, religious intolerance) and that Galdós' sympathies in the novel are unreservedly with Gloria and Morton;
2) that Gloria and Morton incarnate an ideology of which Galdós approves, and that Galdós intends the reader to accept without question proclamations by Gloria and Morton of their deep love for each other and of their idealistic yearning for a religious unity in which love, conscience, and social obligations are in harmony.
Either assumption is dangerously misleading. Galdós' manifest dislike of Serafinita and of the beatas of Ficóbriga does not necessarily bear as corollary his approbation of their victims, Gloria and Morton. Galdós deliberately —26→ chooses not to judge the two lovers. Rather, responsibility for judgment is placed with the reader, who receives little guidance from the author and who is alerted, throughout the novel, to the dangers of facile judgment.
In the present study, my concern will be not with problems of religious truth and heresy, but rather with the roles of Gloria de Lantigua and Daniel Morton, and with problems of judgment suggested by the novel.61 Identification of character with ideology warped earlier critical studies of Gloria. The prudent critic should, however, never allow a Galdosian character's claim to idealism to pass unexamined. In this respect, Peter B. Goldman's recent plea, in defining his critical approach to Nazarín, that the reader not assume novelistic characters necessarily to be spokesmen for Galdós, and that the reader discriminate between a Galdosian character's ideological statements and his functioning within the novel, is equally relevant to our present consideration.62 Examination of the characters and behavior of Gloria and Morton reveals, indeed, a coherence and complexity in Gloria denied to the novel by those who would reduce it to mere exemplification of thesis.
One of the most striking features of Gloria is the readiness with which characters pass judgment on others. Gloria, before her downfall, not only judges harshly the literature and social attitudes of the Golden Age (I, 32-38); she also criticizes the slowness of the servant Francisca (I, 16), the lack of charity of Silvestre Romero (I, 136), the «infamous» nature of Caifás' wife (I, 94, 178), and the hypocrisy of Rafael del Horro (I, 152). Later, she accuses the Bishop Don Ángel of failing in generosity toward herself and child (II, 174). In a similar vein of accusation, Daniel Morton denounces the defects of Spanish Catholicism (I, 161-169), declares Gloria (I, 207; II, 268) and Don Buenaventura (II, 107) to be lacking in religious orthodoxy, reproaches the «routine» nature of his mother's religious ideas (II, 267), and even, in a moment of distress, faults God's creation: «¡Oh, Señor, Señor: yo digo que tu obra no está bien así!» (II, 201).
Those who judge are also judged. The Bishop quotes Christ' words -«Judge not that ye be not judged»- in reproval of Juan Amarillo's criticism of Morton (I, 259). Gloria's facile judgments of Francisca, of the Golden Age, and of Rafael del Horro are criticized by her father Juan de Lantigua (I, 17, 39, 136); her severe condemnation of Caifás' wife is reproached by the Bishop (I, 178). Gloria's judgment of the Bishop's actions is immediately followed by Serafinita's judgment of Gloria's defiance of authority: «Ése es tu flaco: la soberbia, la independencia de juicio, la crítica, la perversa crítica de actos y de ideas emanadas de la autoridad» (II, 174).
Galdós as narrator also judges, but his judgment is selective and is confined to generalities -denunciations of the religious indifference of many nominal Catholics and of the empty theatricality of Holy Week processions- and to minor characters in the novel. Thus, Juan Amarillo is «el judío cristiano» (I, 294) and Serafinita «el Mefistófeles del Cielo» (II, 287). Galdós' only extended judgment is of Serafinita. She is, Galdós declares, without —27→ hypocrisy but has a perverted understanding of love for God (II, 203-204).
The constant references to judgment constitute a powerful invitation to the reader to form his own judgment of the events and characters depicted in the novel. The reader's judgment, however, is to be one of independence, with little overt guidance from the author. Thus, the title of the opening chapter («Arriba el telón») immediately places the reader at a distance, in an initial posture of spectator of, rather than participant in, a drama. Similarly, in the same chapter, the narrator's accompaniment of the reader in a gradual approach from afar to the Lantigua household establishes an emotional and spatial distance between reader and events to be described. Later, the note of extreme Romantic tension which characterizes meetings between Morton and Gloria has the effect not of engaging the reader's sympathies but rather of estrangement, of forcing from the reader judgment of the two young lovers.
The unspoken but nonetheless omnipresent admonition that the reader judge for himself is reinforced by the possible, yet totally unexplained, presence of the supernatural: the smashing of the glass case containing the statue of Christ, the violent storms which accompany Morton's arrival at and return to Ficóbriga, Morton's facial resemblance to the statue of Christ. It is the reader, without guidance from the author, who must determine whether such phenomena possess transcendental significance or are merely fortuitous. Similarly, it is the reader's task to seek possible meaning in temporal coincidences: Morton's arrival on St. John's Eve, Gloria's loss of honor and Juan de Lantigua's death on the national day of St. James, Gloria's death on Easter Sunday.
In his criticism of the conduct and religious beliefs of many Spanish Catholics, however, Galdós leaves little to the reader's judgment. His dislike for the vacuous rhetoric of neo-Catholic politicians (Rafael del Horro, Juan de Lantigua), his deep repugnance for the gloomy doctrines of renunciation taught by Serafinita, are manifest. For Galdós, the religion of many Spaniards is one of appearances, not of inner belief. Rafael del Horro preaches a bellicose faith while inwardly doubting fundamental tenets of the Church. The beatas of Ficóbriga are hideous in their malice, superstition, envy, hypocrisy, and, above all, total lack of charity. Morton's claim that the great majority of Spaniards do not practice their religion -«España es el país, no diré más blasfemo del mundo, sino el país blasfemo y sacrílego por excelencia»-63 receives the reluctant assent of the believer Juan de Lantigua. Galdós as narrator notes that nine-tenths of Spanish Catholics conceal their religious doubts (I, 231); he observes also that many Catholics («con falaz creencia de los labios, de rutinario entendimiento y corazón vacío», II, 54) treat the ceremonies of the Church as mere theatrical performance.
While for Galdós most Spanish Catholics are indifferent in matters of religion, fervor itself can be misguided, as in the case of Serafinita (II, 203-204). Religious devotion can mask unacknowledged selfish motives: the sterile —28→ Serafinita badgers Gloria to abandon her child and enter a convent, and Teresita la Monja, despite -or rather because of- her premarital slip, is vociferous in her denunciations of «immorality».
Galdós' attacks are, however, leveled at individuals' indifference to and abuse of religion. The criticism is balanced by Galdós' portrayal of Catholics who are indeed, as he observed to Pereda,64 outstanding for their Christian virtues. Juan de Lantigua is a man of fundamental decency and generosity, sacrificing, however misguidedly, his health for the cause in which he believes. The goodness, if not the perspicacity, of the Bishop Don Ángel is stressed. Don Ángel, Don Buenaventura, and the electioneering priest Silvestre Romero show only compassion to the suffering Gloria. The devoutness of Gloria herself is never in doubt. Her inability to accept in their entirety the teachings of the Church (the «latitudinarianism» which the Bishop attributes to her) is only temporary; she receives absolution from her uncle before her death.
There is furthermore no challenge by Galdós as narrator to fundamental beliefs and practices of the Church. He treats with respect oral confession («el [acto] más hermoso que existe en religión alguna», I, 218); he refers respectfully, albeit guardedly, to «el extraordinario enigma de la Redención» (II, 54). Even the doctrine of Catholic unity, which Galdós personally found repugnant (see the third paragraph of this article), receives a partial defense from Silvestre Romero.65
Galdós' criticisms of certain aspects of Spanish religious life, his harshness toward the distorted religious views of Serafinita and the beatas of Ficóbriga, should not lull us into the belief that Galdós will throughout the novel guide the reader's judgment. Comments by Morton and the narratorial Galdós on Spanish religious indifference are merely debating points, external to the development of the novel: the roles of Serafinita and the beatas are secondary. These judgments by the narrator have, however, a purpose: to point the way to a judgment which is strikingly not made by the author, that of Gloria and Morton. It is now the reader's task to judge, using the limited information made available by Galdós.66 The judgment to be made is not necessarily of their ideology, but rather of their very nature and behavior within the novel. And -if we are not to fall into the errors of an earlier generation of committed critics- it is not the purity of doctrine of Gloria and Morton, but their thoughts, actions, and the reactions of others (including that of the narrator) which will provide the only pointers to the reader.
The innocent reader of novels is predisposed to favor Gloria. In his opening description, the narrator details, with exclamations of delight, her beauty, vitality, profound sensitivity, and honestidad. Later, her high intelligence, —29→ generosity of spirit, and religious devotion are established. Her roles of lover and victim appeal to our sympathies. Her death on Easter Sunday, her repetition of Christ's words -«Mañana..., mañana serás conmigo en el Paraíso» (II, 331)- suggest an assimilation to Christ Himself.
However, in the opening chapter, immediately before the first appearance of Gloria, the narrator sounds a barely perceptible, but nonetheless important, note of warning. Describing the mansion of the Lantiguas, Galdós mentions not only «las meditaciones del estudio» (Juan de Lantigua) but also «el amor egoísta» (that is, the self-centeredness and isolation which will characterize Gloria throughout the novel):
| (I, 9) | ||
a) Her Illness
Gloria's isolation from others is presented in terms of obsession, almost of mental or nervous illness. As the novel progresses, she is increasingly dominated by compulsions arising from within the self. From the outset of the novel, Gloria is portrayed as driven by an anxiety which is disproportionate to the source of her agitation. She has spent three sleepless nights as she desperately awaits the arrival of her uncle; the conversations with an imaginary lover similarly attest the inward direction of her thoughts. Before her tragic love for Morton, Gloria is characterized by exaltation and nervousness: «un desasosiego constante» (I, 12), «sus facultades estaban siempre en febril ejercicio» (I, 40), «el ardiente vibrar de sus nervios» (I, 71), «su natural propensión a la hipérbole» (I, 152). Later, she is described by the family doctor as «sujeta a terribles crisis nerviosas» (II, 298). Further symptoms of her great nervous stress are her feverish attention to details, her insomnia, her touching of objects, her hearing of imaginary voices, her fits of terror, and, at moments of tension, her faintings, tremblings, and feelings of coldness. In the scenes which precede her death, she is manifestly losing her sanity: her laughter is hysterical; she convulsively trembles; she alternates between excessive activity and exhaustion, and, finally, between lucidity and delirium.
b) Her Intellect
Gloria's intellect, powerful though it may be, contributes to, or is symptomatic of, her isolation from others. At first, before her meeting with Morton, her reason can oppose the flights of her imagination. She knows that it is schoolgirl madness to converse with an imaginary lover; she still distinguishes between the ideal world and the life of every day:
|
Es una locura -decía- esto que tengo; es una locura pensar en lo que no existe, y desvanecerme y afanarme por una persona imaginaria. |
| (I, 74) | ||
|
Cada cosa en su lugar. El cielo tiene estrellas y soles; la tierra hombres y gusanos... Vivimos abajo y no arriba. |
| (I, 75) | ||
—30→
But soon, as she applies preconceived ideas of beauty, love, and conduct to the world around her, her intellect serves, rather than corrects, her compulsions. Her vision of reality, like that of her father and of Daniel Morton, is derived from first principles rather than from experience. Her «thought» takes the form of a facile dualism (cf. her judgment of the Golden Age), in which the self is always the arbiter. She expresses herself in terms of simple, opposed categories: the self and others, the good and the evil, the spiritual and the worldly. Her reasoning approaches the inane as she anguishedly seeks a verbal formula which will at one and the same time satisfy the exigencies of her passion and her demand for religious unity:
| (I, 193) | ||
The self-centered and dogmatic Gloria is reluctant to admit the fallibility of her judgment. She will, when faced with facts which contradict her preconceptions, at first deny reality: «Si fueses tú israelita, es imposible que yo te hubiese querido» (I, 280). Similarly, she attempts to evade her situation with her extravagant wish that the past of Humanity be erased:
| (I, 192)67 | ||
c) Her Pride
Her intellectual gifts, her isolation, lead Gloria to affirm herself at the expense of others. I have already mentioned her readiness to judge harshly. On three occasions (when her father reproaches her vision of the Golden Age, when she justifies to herself her love for Morton, and when the Bishop reproves her latitudinarianism), her judgment comes into conflict (real or assumed) with that of others. At these times, a «demon» within herself urges that her intelligence is superior, that she should rebel and think for herself:
| (I, 41) | ||
What is significant here is not so much the correctness of her ideas, but rather the manner in which she reacts to contradiction. The search for truth becomes contaminated by pride, by exaltation of self.
Hurt pride controls Gloria throughout the novel. After her father's reproof of her assessment of the Golden Age, the sixteen-year-old Gloria offers a prayer which, in its excessive humility, reeks of resentment: «-¡Gracias, Dios mío, por haberme revelado a tiempo que soy tonta!» (I, 40). But, some two or three years later, on her deathbed, the sting of the imagined slight is still with her. Using the same phrase («soy tonta»), she affirms the superiority of her intellect to that of her relatives, as she proclaims the obvious, that Daniel is not a believing Christian:
—31→| (II, 315; my italics) | ||
d) Self-deception
Connected with Gloria's pride is the dangerous claim that God directs her actions. God, she believes, blesses her love for Morton (I, 190-191), justifies her refusal to submit to the Bishop (I, 226-227), and inspires her final flight from the Lantigua household (II, 313). God, she exaltedly claims, approves her decision to enter the convent:
| (II, 210) | ||
But Gloria, as she herself recognizes in a moment of lucidity before death, is no mystic (II, 325). She uses «God», however unconsciously, to sanction emotional impulse. Galdós, in one of his rare explanations of Gloria's behavior, remarks that the decision to enter the convent was motivated by human love, by Serafinita's touching of Gloria's most sensitive point, «la fibra del amor humano» (II, 211).
Gloria's blindness to her true motives, her self-deception, is apparent throughout the novel. She bizarrely exalts the power of maternal values while abandoning the care of her own child (II, 316). She discerns in others her own unacknowledged flaws: in Caifás a sinful distrust of God (I, 94-95), in the writers of the Golden Age «una inclinación demasiado ardiente al idealismo» (I, 35), «falta de equiponderación entre la fantasía y el discernimiento» (I, 35). She rejects Rafael del Horro as a suitor after thought; her impulsive acceptance of Daniel Morton (of whom she knows remarkably little), on the other hand, is inspired by the compulsions of her adolescent imagination; the elaborate arguments (of Morton's natural goodness, etc.) with which she justifies her love are, of course, after the event. Her blindness, typical enough of those in love, is noted by Galdós: in rapt admiration before the «charity» of Morton, she is no longer capable of perceiving the beauties of Nature (I, 187). And, like many self-deceivers, she both allows herself to be manipulated (by Serafinita) and manipulates others. Thus, on her deathbed, she forces Morton into a pointless affirmation of belief in Christ and in her religion (II, 330); she also exacts from him, with singular disregard for his sentiments, the promise not to claim his son.
e) Her Despair
Gloria also lacks the second of the theological virtues, hope. She questions Christ's sacrifice («¿Para esto valía la pena de que expiraras en esa afrentosa cruz?» I, 195), and on three occasions declares that God has abandoned her (I, 276, 289, 290). Her obsession with death (her dead brothers) antedates her seduction. After her fall, she isolates from life (the care of the house, the presence of others) and deliberately chooses the company of the —32→ gloom-filled Serafinita (II, 173). Her desire for self-annihilation is extravagant and egotistic:
| (II, 62) | ||
Her death is, as Morton recognizes, a form of suicide, an interference in the designs of God (II, 323-324). Her choice of death, rather than of marriage or the convent, is, paradoxically, a final exaltation of self, an affirmation of her values, however demented, against those of uncles, aunt, and Morton. Her plea to be forgotten is granted. Four years later, no one in Ficóbriga remembers Gloria.
f) Gloria: The Reader's Judgment
Other characters in the novel see Gloria not as a representative of Christian or of heretical thought but in terms of her nervous anguish. Her father believes her to be misled by an excess of imagination and sensitivity, by impatience, and by over-attention to trivial details (I, 17, 21, 217). The kindly Bishop sees in her «demasiado ardor», «desasosiego de un alma llagada y enferma, miserablemente ansiosa» (I, 220). An outsider, the family doctor, diagnoses her as sick in heart, mind, and nervous system (II, 246, 298). Even Morton, hardly the most perceptive of observers, discerns in her madness and exaggeration (I, 280; II, 317).
Gloria's flaws are numerous. She is consumed by anxieties, self-centered, and excessive in all she undertakes -in her judgments of others, in her manner of loving, in her pride in her intellect, in her later self-abasement. The forces of reason and of society weigh less in her than her inner drives. She attempts to subordinate the world around her to a preconceived ideal. To preserve this vision, she must isolate herself from others and accept only those impressions (the perverted teaching of Serafinita) which correspond to her compulsive despair. In her extremism, she twice denies her own humanity: firstly, in her attempt to fly like a bird or angel (Part I, passim); later, in her reduction of self to that of an insect in a cocoon (II, 24). Increasingly demented, obsessed with black thoughts, she chooses death and wins the oblivion which she craves.
But Gloria also merits the sympathies of the reader. She is the victim both of her own temperament and of circumstances. She is young, inexperienced, and, at the end of the novel, insane. The excesses of her nervous temperament are, like the impatience which she claims was given her by God,68 intimately connected with her nature. She lacks strength to struggle against the exigencies of her nervous system, against the forceful courtship of Morton, and against the pressures of her own family; her manipulation of others may, indeed, represent the only means of survival of an unbalanced personality. Gloria also suffers cruelly at the hands of others: Morton deceives her in concealing his Judaism; his possession of her is brutal; both Morton and Serafinita seek to bend her to their purposes with their bombardment of messages of a distorted idealism. She signally fails to receive what the doctor —33→ claims her temperament needs: the avoidance of all excitement, including that of religious exaltation. Galdós offers no judgment of her behavior. Instead, he suggests only a possible reaction to her suffering, that of compassion: «Si antaño todo lo que continua o pasajeramente estaba unido a su persona decía: 'Gracia, amor, esperanza', ahora todo decía: 'Compasión'» (II, 50).
The qualities in Morton which so impressed Clarín69 -his deep love for Gloria, his easy manners, his intellectual ability- should not mislead the reader. His «love» is self-centered and subordinated to an abstract vision of the universe. Like Gloria, Morton is egocentric, proud, death-obsessed, and emotionally unbalanced. Furthermore, he bears within himself a strong current of violence, which is associated with a barely repressed sexuality.
The superficial attractiveness with which Morton charms the Lantigua family is the mark of a manipulator. His actions belie his high-minded pretensions. While beguiling the Bishop (ever-hopeful for a conversion) and enjoying the generous hospitality of the Lantiguas, he surreptitiously, and in whirlwind fashion, courts Gloria. His concealment of his Judaism, as he explains with a naiveté which shows a total disregard for others, was por egoísmo, out of fear that, knowing his religion, she would not love him (I, 279-280). Even his lavish charity to Caifás, the deed which so greatly impressed Gloria, was, by its very nature, flamboyant and incapable of concealment.
Morton's mental instability antedates his meeting with Gloria. As a youth, he had spent years meditating in solitude on the fate of the Jews; his «love» for his raza and its history reached «una vehemencia que hizo creer en la pérdida de mi razón» (II, 115). His mother, after his return from Ficóbriga, feared for his sanity: his excessive studies of rabbinical literature caused her to seal his library (II, 266). His death is preceded by two years of madness, spent seeking «una religión nueva, la religión única, la religión del porvenir» (II, 337).
Morton attempts to grasp the universe with an abstract reasoning which has as its center the self. Insanely egocentric, he identifies Gloria's love for him with the very nature of the universe:
|
Si tú me aborrecieras, habría de conocerse en el Universo. El Sol no alumbraría lo mismo. |
| (II, 158) | ||
|
Si esta correspondencia de afectos no existiera, no existiría el alma. |
| (II, 161) | ||
His decision to marry Gloria is argued from a personal, yet highly conceptualized, vision of God:
|
Si así no es, no tengo idea de la justicia, no tengo noción del deber ni del honor, y siendo extraño a la idea de la justicia, no puedo ni aun saber lo que es Dios. |
| (II, 196) | ||
—34→
The thought of Gloria is always subordinated to abstract belief. Morton reveals little concern for Gloria in his conversation with Don Buenaventura; he sees both Gloria and his «love» as abstractions which must be weighed against a further abstraction, «God»:
| (II, 195) | ||
Morton's pride is enormous. Paying but little heed to the harm which he has caused to the Lantigua family, he proclaims that his «love» for Gloria is God's test of him:
|
He sido juguete de misteriosas fuerzas. Dios me envió, sin duda, para probarme y conocer el temple de mi espíritu... |
| (I, 287) | ||
|
Dios nos somete a durísimas y terribles pruebas... Creo en las pruebas como en los castigos. Mi insensato y desvariado amor es una de aquéllas. |
| (II, 117) | ||
With insane egotism, he claims that God is worthy of Gloria: «A ese Dios pienso llevar a la que amo, porque Él es digno de ella y ella digna de Él» (II, 263). In his pride, he judges the religious beliefs of others (Spanish Catholics, Don Buenaventura, Gloria, his mother) as being inferior to his own; similarly, he claims that his suffering is greater than that of Gloria (I, 206).
Morton's fondness for abstractions masks the violence of his nature; his approach to Gloria contains both emotional and physical assault. His treatment of her is strongly self-centered: he demands that she renounce her religion; he accuses her of not loving him (I, 269). Even at the moment of her death, he selfishly denounces her decision to become a nun as an abandonment of him: «¡Y qué momento has escogido para abandonarme! El momento en que yo hacía por ti el más grande y doloroso de los sacrificios» (II, 314). His violent possession of Gloria is not, as Rodgers claimed,70 out of keeping with his character. At their previous meeting, he had bitten off a lock of her hair (I, 212) and drawn attention, with bitter self-congratulation, to his failure to possess Gloria's virginity (Gloria's own wishes in this matter are, apparently, not consulted): «¡Maldito sea yo, que vi la felicidad y no la pude poseer! Te devuelvo a tu casa, a tu religión, y te devuelvo pura, inmaculada...» (I, 211).
Violence accompanies many of Morton's actions. He collides, on his two returns to Ficóbriga, with the representatives of Spanish Catholicism (the Bishop, the Palm Sunday procession); he rejoices in the death of an unknown Ficobrigan (II, 121); he halts Gloria's carriage by force (II, 156); he has his servant thunderously awaken the sleeping Lantigua household (II, 163). The violence of his behavior is reflected in his conversation: «Yo romperé todas las leyes; pero esto no seguirá, te lo juro. Cuanto hay de violento y brutal verás en mí si es preciso» (II, 160). His burning hatred for Christianity is expressed in violent terms:
—35→| (II, 198) | ||
Like Gloria, he claims lo be the chosen vessel of God. God he declares, led him to return to Ficóbriga (I, 256, 268). God tells him to possess Gloria:
|
-Porque mi Dios me impulsaba hacia ti, y me dice: «Anda y tómala, que es tuya, y lo será por los siglos de los siglos». |
| (I, 270) | ||
|
Yo te vi, y desde que te vi te amé. Creí desde luego que mi naufragio era providencial y que Dios te destinaba a ser mía. ¿Quién sabe sus designios? |
| (I, 286) | ||
Similarly, the voice of God tells him to feign conversion in order to bring Gloria to Jehovah (II, 262, 263-264). The appeal to God, however, is a flight from responsibility for his actions. God and Satan are, indeed, readily identifiable in his disordered mind: «Me trajo una ola infernal, o quizá hálito divino. El hombre es juguete de las fuerzas de Dios, que gobierna en el mundo» (I, 281).
His use of «God» to sanction his own lusts is only one instance of Morton's self-deception. The manner in which he possesses Gloria, the reproaches which he heaps on her for her «fanatismo», suggest a strong element of hatred in his approach to her. He wishes, in any case, to destroy her dearest value, her love for Christ. Morton is also blind to the outside world; plunged in anguished self-debate, he perceives neither the waves which splash him nor the dawn (II, 196, 201). Furthermore, in his plans for a false conversion, he deceives himself rather than others. His informing his mother of his intent represents, of course, his unconscious wish that she will forestall his project.
Throughout the novel, Morton is associated with death. (Death is, moreover, the connotation of his family name for the Spanish speaker). His first words of love to Gloria reveal his obsession with self -annihilation: «¡Morir por usted! Es lo único posible después de haberla amado» (I, 175). (Cf. the stress on life conveyed in the words of the rejected suitor, Rafael del Horro: «¡Qué dulce vivir aquí, tan cerca de usted, Gloria...!» I, 51). From the start of his courtship, Morton complains that he was born under an evil star and that their love will not have a successful conclusion (I, 189). Torn between his social and religious obligations, Morton flees his situation by again turning obsessively to death:
| (II, 117) | ||
Others see in Morton both good and bad qualities. The Bishop and Juan de Lantigua are at first taken in by his intelligence and easy manners, Gloria, who gives great value to his physical appearance and to a single act of charity, perceives only perfection in him. Caifás, on the other hand, holds him to be a mixture of saint and devil (II, 100). His mother, who has known him longer than the Ficobrigans, believes him to be an insane fanatic in religion. She claims that his protestations of religious piety are a form of self-deceit, for —36→ he is inspired not by religion, but by selfish human love («el egoísmo del amor mundano» II, 265). For her, Morton and those like him deceive themselves and others: «Hacen de la religión un madrigal, engañando a todos y a sí mismos» (II, 266).
Galdós undercuts certain standpoints from which the reader might be tempted to judge the hecho interesante presented in Gloria. The intellect, conscience, heart, authority, and goodness of intention are all unsatisfactory bases for judgment. Each can be a form of blindness, giving a partial, and even mistaken, vision of reality.
a) The Intellect
Perhaps the clearest lesson of Gloria, and one to which Galdós was to return in Marianela, is that reason alone offers at best an incomplete, and at worst a misleading, vision of the universe. Three characters in the novel -Juan de Lantigua, Gloria, and Daniel Morton- attempt to superimpose a preconceived intellectual scheme on the world about them. In all three cases, a judgment based on intellect leads to error; the intellect itself masks pride, self-deceit, and self-centeredness; experience contradicts the earlier intellectual vision. Thus, Juan de Lantigua takes as axiomatic that Gloria, the exemplar of Spanish Catholic womanhood, could not fall in love with a Protestant (I, 197). Morton appeals to the «Dios de las inteligencias» and scorns the «womanly» religion of compassion; his reasoning about the universe, however, starts with self, and he is unable to reconcile his abstract belief in Jehovah with the reality of his situation. Gloria is in part deceived by her intellect: she values her own reasoning over the advice of her father and uncle; she deduces Morton's perfection on insufficient grounds; her attempt to find a total solution to her situation brings her to a self-willed death; in her readiness to judge others, she ignores the real, if humble, virtues of Silvestre Romero.
Similar, and equally unsuccessful, attempts at imposing man's logic on reality are observable in the Bishop (who argues that Morton must necessarily have been created for salvation, I, 132) and in Serafinita (who claims that God will of necessity respond to Gloria's sacrifice, II, 208).
b) Conscience
Conscience, like the intellect, often masks passion. Gloria's «conscience» sanctions both her love for Morton and her later refusal to marry him (II, 316). Morton's conscience justifies his brutal possession of Gloria and false conversion. The argument that God directs our conduct is exploded by Esther Morton: «También Jehová ha hablado a mi corazón y me ha dicho 'Sálvale...' ¿Crees que tú solo eres capaz de ser iluminado? O el Señor habla para todos o para ninguno». (II, 208).
Conscience, even when not concealing hidden desires, reflects past experience. Don Buenaventura's conscience inspires him to seek a compromise —37→ solution (II, 14), whereas Serafinita, in the same situation, refuses all transaction. Serafinita's conscience, Galdós makes clear, is pure; it does, nevertheless, mislead her (II, 203-204).
c) The Heart
The heart also is a poor guide. The strong «love» which Gloria and Daniel claim for each other is possessive and destructive both of self and others. Serafinita's «love» for Gloria is possessive and is against Gloria's best interests.
d) Authority
The appeal to authority not only provides no clear direction as to conduct but also represents an avoidance of personal responsibility. Juan de Lantigua ransacks the political and religious writings of the Golden Age for guidance in the nineteenth century. He is, however, half blind and deaf, and unaware of what is going on in his own household. His demand that the civil authority control Spanish religious life would, paradoxically, sanction the rule of the corrupt mayor Juan Amarillo.
Similarly, the Bible itself can be misinterpreted by the selfish. Morton, Serafinita, and Silvestre Romero use the Bible to bolster their arguments. Significantly, however, Morton ignores his servant Sansón's appeals to Biblical texts.
e) Good Intentions
The Bishop's goodness is stressed. His goodness, however, solves no problems. Indeed, Galdós suggests, situations have a logic of their own which is not amenable to ethical attitudes:
|
Aquel varón insigne, que todo quería resolverlo con su bondad angelical, dejábalo todo, no obstante, sin resolución; ejemplo que muy a menudo se repite en el mundo. |
| (I, 231-32) | ||
|
Corría, pues, la lógica sin que la bondad de los buenos ni la perversidad de los perversos pudiera detenerla. |
| (I, 233) | ||
Refusing any single, dogmatic basis from which to judge behavior, Galdós recognizes human limitations and the impossibility of reducing individual situations to simple formulae. In place of the emotional stridency, self-centeredness, intellectual arrogance, and death obsessions of the leading characters of Gloria, Galdós suggests, rather than proclaims, gentler attitudes: compassion for those who suffer, a willingness to compromise, and enjoyment of the harmless pleasures of the world of men and of Nature.
For Galdós, compassion, and not approval or disapproval, is the appropriate reaction to Gloria. Her appearance, after her fall, inspires «compassion» in all those who view her without bate (II, 50). Don Buenaventura feels «la compasión más viva hacia su sobrina» (II, 299); the Bishop, constant in his —38→ affection for his niece, has for her «cierta compasión cariñosa» (I, 231). Morton, contemptuously and without understanding, declares that compasión is the nerve of the Christian religion (II, 268). Esther Spinoza, however, realizes the impossibility of eradicating from the heart of a Christian woman «la simpatía del mártir, la compasión por la víctima» (II, 269).
Experience, Galdós suggests, is a better guide to conduct than dogma.71 Both the priest Silvestre Romero and the banker Don Buenaventura are militant neo-Catholics. Neither possesses remarkable intellectual gifts or any interest in theological discussion. Both, however, place facts, the experience of life, before any intellectual theory. They have a flexibility of outlook which comes from dealing with others, in the practical world of everyday affairs:
| (II, 126) | ||
Galdós also stresses the simple joys which are rejected by Serafinita, Gloria, and Morton. Silvestre Romero delights in hunting and farming. Don Buenaventura enjoys family life and the licit pleasures of this world (II, 10). The kindly doctor believes that marriage («la paz, el contento y el amor humano» II, 246) will cure Gloria of her feverish anxieties and melancholia.
Throughout the novel, however, Gloria and Morton flee the world of men and ignore the creation of God. They isolate themselves in their meetings in a solitary pinegrove. Obsessed with love, they are unable to perceive the beauties of Nature (I, 187; II, 196). Morton, indeed, contemns the work of God at a time when all Nature invites to joy (II, 201). Contrasted to the frenzied agitation of Morton is the crowing of a rooster, inviting man to savor the delights of life («la amenidad de la vida, la paz, la sencillez, la diligencia y el trabajo» II, 154). Gloria also, in her despair, ignores Nature. Her neglect of garden is, in the eyes of the Bishop, an offense against God: «Don Ángel dio un paseo por el jardín, quejándose del descuido en que estaba y de la ofensa que a Dios hacía su sobrina matando de sed a las pobres plantas» (II, 273).
The characters of Gloria are portrayed in a consistent and psychologically plausible manner; the dénouement results logically from their situation and interaction. But, as in the episodios nacionales, certain characters also incarnate historical forces; our judgment of the individual novelistic character leads also to the appraisal of a society. The novel is set in the 1870's; it reflects the impact of foreign ideas on Spanish life, and the weariness with turmoil and ideological disputes which followed the failure of the Revolution of 1868 to effect any radical restructuring of Spain. Throughout the novel, the immense spiritual malaise of a nation bereft of collective beliefs is evident. Neither Gloria (the embryonic Spain of the future) nor Juan de Lantigua (the Spain of the past) is strong enough to adapt to or to withstand the onslaught of —39→ foreign ideas. The inflexibility and weakness of those ill prepared, by education or temperament, for violent change lead to individual and, Galdós suggests pessimistically, to national annihilation.72
Gloria, like the Rosario of Doña Perfecta, represents the «raw material» out of which the Spain of the future is to be formed. However, like the Spain of 1868, she is unstable and, at the very moment of entering maturity, is driven to destruction by the warring antagonisms of self-appointed redeemers. She has strong roots in the past (her Catholic upbringing, the influence of her intellectual and deeply religious father, her readings in Golden Age literature), yet is at first open to change (her critical spirit, her search for synthesis, her ready reception of Morton). She observes -and her remarks are equally relevant to the Spain of the last third of the nineteenth century- that Spanish society in the Golden Age was split between excessive idealism and excessive materialism. Idealism alone, she recognizes, is an insufficient base on which to build a society (I, 34); she longs for a reconciliation between the spiritual and the material, between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (I, 38). But, despite the generosity of her impulses, Gloria is, like the Spain of 1868 and subsequent years, ill equipped to evaluate outside influences, easily seduced by appearances, inherently unstable, and contaminated by that very excess of idealism which she theoretically opposes. Under pressure, she, like Spain, turns inward on herself in suicidal self-destruction.
Juan de Lantigua represents tradition, but his «tradition» is formed not from life but from the books of the past. The «eternal truths» which he so ardently defends exist only in his mind, not in the Spain of the 1870's. His intransigence and strident crusading spirit are indicative of the irrelevance of his ideals to the Spain of his day; he acknowledges the weakness of religion in Spain; he demands that the power of the state protect Spanish religion from all outside challenge. But Juan de Lantigua, despite his fiery rhetoric, is impotent to affect the future. He is half blind and half deaf; he is unaware that the evil against which he struggles has already entered his house. His death is, of course, inevitable, for no reconciliation is possible between his views and the fact of his daughter's (and Spain's) apparent surrender to the embrace of a foreign Jew. His ideals survive, but only in a debased form, in the distorted perspective of the sterile Serafinita.
Morton, the apparently «impartial» outsider, argues that foreign propaganda cannot be blamed for Spanish irreligion. Spain, he claims (and Galdós repeated the charge in a letter to Pereda),73 has had no true revolution. Only a fundamentally weak moral structure would so readily collapse at contact with the outside world:
| (I, 165) | ||
Although neither possesses a convincing solution to Spain's problems, both Lantigua and Morton are correct in their analyses of Spain's weakness. Spain (Gloria), as Lantigua fears, succumbs almost immediately to foreign influence. The contact with outside ideas is not vitalizing but mortal. Morton's —40→ perception of the weakness of Spain's moral structure is also accurate: Gloria's downfall results not from foreign propaganda and excessive liberty but rather from inexperience and from flaws in her character (pride, ignorance, gullibility, idealism).
Lantigua's distrust of outside influences is well founded. Morton is no disinterested savior. His methods are violent and treacherous, his motives selfish. His analysis of Spanish religion is cold, intellectual, and without true understanding. His claim that the Spaniards are not religious is patently not true of the Lantigua family. He naively fails to grasp the power of religion in Spain. His assertion that Spanish religion will be strengthened by competition is self-serving and belied by the events of the novel. The transformation which he proposes for Gloria (Spain) is too far-reaching and, ultimately, destructive of both good and bad qualities. His intent, in any case, is to bend her to his will, not to seek any form of reconciliation.
Galdós' vision of the Spain of his day is only partly pessimistic. Spain's avowed ideals and her material reality are incompatible.74 The shock of violent change produces destruction, not reform. Spain can no longer, as Lantigua hoped, isolate herself from outside contagion, for the civil power is already in the hands of a slave to material values (Juan Amarillo). Spain (Gloria) can neither retreat into the idealized past of Juan de Lantigua nor wholeheartedly embrace the suspect ideals of the foreigner (Morton). Hope, for Galdós, must be deferred for yet another generation, to the maturity of the child Jesús. In the values of Jesús' guardian, the banker Don Buenaventura, Galdós indicates Spain's path to a possibly healthier future: the ability to compromise, the abandonment of doctrines of cheerlessness, attention to concrete tasks, the refusal to mistake words (whether the rhetoric of neo-Catholic politicians or the exalted idealism of Morton) for reality.
Gloria is a work of much greater complexity than has previously been recognized. Critics have charged that the novel is a mere demonstration of preconceived thesis, that the portrayal of character is inconsistent, and that melodramatic elements and thesis are incompatible. Dissatisfaction with the novel stems, however, from two mistaken assumptions: that Gloria and Morton are spokesmen for Galdós, and that Galdós approves their manner of loving.
Gloria is structured not on ideology but on character; psychological motives alone are sufficient to provoke the dénouement. Morton and Gloria are emotionally disturbed and caught up in a selfish, possessive love. Despite their talk of «God», and «love», they show neither tenderness nor compassion in their treatment of each other; their relationship is one of adversaries rather than of lovers. Both are flawed in their rashness, pride, and tendency to despair; rather than accept the Divine Will, they use «God» to sanction their passions. Both isolate themselves from society. Both struggle neurotically to assert their values (or rather, their egos) against those of their families. —41→ Both, in their obsession with death, turn their backs on life and all that it offers.
Galdós' portrayal of their love as Romantic is deliberate. In other novels written at this time (El Grande Oriente and El 7 de julio of 1876, Los cien mil hijos de San Luis and El terror de 1824 of 1877), Galdós returns time and time again to the same theme: that Romantic passions destroy. Like Gloria and Morton, such characters as Andrea Campos, Salvador Monsalud, and Jenara de Baraona place their inner compulsions above social demands; as Romantic lovers, they are selfish, violently destructive, and consumed by suicidal despair; the lesson is always that obsession with self kills. Whereas in Gloria there is no foil for Gloria and Morton, in the episodios nacionales Galdós presents in the person of Solita a form of love which heals rather than destroys. Solita, unlike Gloria and Morton, is compassionate, cheerful, and resigned to the Divine Will. She is active in the care of household and in devotion to others. She accepts reality and refuses to live in the sterile world of fantasy.
A further lesson of the episodios of this period, and one which is inherent in Gloria, is that our judgment be of behavior, not of ideology. In such novels as El 7 de julio (October-November 1876) and El terror de 1824 (October 1877), Galdós savagely contrasts liberal pretensions and the selfish ambitions which liberal rhetoric masks. Similarly, in Gloria, those who seek to impose a structure on life (Juan de Lantigua, Gloria, Morton) are blind both to themselves and to the outside world; all three, significantly, perish in the course of the novel. Galdós' hostility is not to one particular creed, but to the basing of life on abstract principles. Idealism, Galdós suggests (and he repeats the same message in his portrayals of Pablo Penáguilas in Marianela and of Patricio Sarmiento in the episodios), reflects an approach to life which is both selfish and grotesquely restricted. Gloria and Morton, egotistically refusing to accept a world not constructed according to their wishes, seek to escape the limitations of history and of human society. Their evasion, of course, leads only to madness and death.
Galdós does not, in his portrayal of the abuses to which religious fanaticism can give rise, call into question the teachings of the Church. The «love» of Gloria and Morton is, as Blanco García observed, not opposed by the «intolerance» of the Church; the «love», indeed, is as suspect in its origins as are the sterile doctrines of Serafinita. Galdós demonstrates only that words of religion can conceal hidden motives and can be used to manipulate others. His castigation of liberal rhetoric, in the episodios nacionales, was much harsher.
Galdós does, however, warn against facile judgments. Neither the intellect, authority, conscience, nor the emotions can provide a sure basis for judgment. Judgment, difficult enough at best, must take into account the fruits of our actions, not only intentions. Galdós himself avoids dogmatic judgment, save of those (Serafinita, the beatas) who clearly harm others. He portrays Juan de Lantigua and Silvestre Romero as men of fundamental decency, despite their advocacy of a neo-Catholic doctrine which he abhorred; he leaves judgment of Gloria and Morton to the reader; his only suggestion is that they merit compassion.
—42→Galdós' distrust of ideology, his hostility to dogmatism, reflects the failure, so evident in the 1870's, of Spanish liberalism to offer a model of society corresponding to Spanish reality. Galdós' teaching in Gloria is far from the message of exalted idealism discerned by critics. Instead, he suggests that the world in which we live is highly complex, that it is almost impossible to structure reality according to a preconceived image, and that judgments must not be made in haste. Contrasted with those characters who live by the mind (Morton, Gloria, Juan de Lantigua) are those who place experience over abstract thought (Don Buenaventura, the doctor, Silvestre Romero, the Bishop in large measure). Reflecting the spirit of a nation wearied of ideological debates, such characters as Don Buenaventura recognize that problems cannot be solved by evasion or by declarations of personal idealism. They accept practical, temporary solutions. They -like the Spain of the Restoration- choose life (survival), rather than death.
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