Martha T. Halsey
Last Updated August 12, 2024.
Buero Vallejo's theater represents … a quest for understanding about man and the universe. This quest, according to the dramatist, if it is to reach any profundity, must necessarily take place within the framework of tragedy…. (p. 21)
Buero Vallejo … whose plays postulate free will, finds in catharsis the ultimate justification for his theater. He interprets this term as much more than simply a pacification or dissolution of the pity and fear felt by the spectator of a tragedy. Catharsis is, according to his point of view, the transformation or elevation of these emotions from a primitive to a moral or ethical plane. Buero's own tragedies aim to "move the spectator and move him deeply, to confront him with his personal capacity—sometimes so limited!—for becoming cordially interested in human sorrow." In other words, Buero believes that tragedy is an experience that ennobles the individual. (pp. 21-2)
Buero Vallejo holds the opinion that the aesthetic is not divorced from the ethical or moral in tragedy. Disagreeing with Schopenhauer, Buero Vallejo maintains that tragic destiny is not something irrational or arbitrary, but to a large extent the creation of man himself. Fear at the apparent caprice of the gods, in Greek theater, or fear at the apparent meaningless or absurdity of the world, in modern theater, Buero believes, are but conceptual and emotive substrata of tragedy. Tragedy tries to show that catastrophe is the consequence of man's errors, of his violation of moral order…. Buero's own plays underscore [the] element of human responsibility. The universe imposes limitations, but it is the individual's own moral blindness—his self-deception or unwillingness to confront the reality of his situation, as well as his innate egoism—which prevent him from overcoming these limitations and which bring down upon him suffering and grief. (pp. 22-3)
If tragic destiny, according to Buero Vallejo, is not unjust, neither is it always unfavorable. Buero Vallejo, who is concerned primarily with the sense or spirit of a literary work rather than with prescriptive considerations, defines tragedy as a conflict between "liberty" (free will) and "necessity" (human limitations)…. This struggle between freedom and necessity which tragedy depicts, however, does not end necessarily with the victory of the latter. Adverse destiny is a grave probability of man, but not an intrinsic condition of being human. (pp. 23-4)
Nietzsche to the contrary, Buero Vallejo believes that tragedy is the very opposite of pessimism. The sorrow portrayed in tragedy does not necessarily signify pessimism any more than the laughter in comedy necessarily signifies optimism. Important bases of Greek tragedy, Buero points out, were "joy" and "hope" in the "resurrection of Dionysus." Nor can modern tragedy be considered pessimistic, even when the author so intends, for behind his pessimistic philosophy, "there continue to operate, although under very different names, Dionysus and his possible—or certain—resurrection. Authentic pessimism is the opposite of tragedy. Pessimism denies all, but tragedy proposes all types of valaes." It represents, for Buero Vallejo, an heroic act through which man attempts to understand grief without resigning himself to the idea that it and the world are arbitrary. (pp. 25-6)
Buero believes that the purpose of theater—which is to agitate and disturb, to make man think—is accomplished more through pathetic than dialectic means. He usually leaves the ideological conflicts, in his own plays, as unanswered questions. The fact that tragedy often provides no answers does not mean that it is not optimistic; for tragedy, according to Buero Vallejo's concept, is founded not on concrete affirmations, but on the psychological reality of hope.
Buero Vallejo has [also] stated that the essence of all tragedy is probably hope and that this is present even in the apparently most unpromising situations. This tragic hope is, for him, all-embracing. In general, however, it has two aspects, which are never mutually exclusive: hope in an earthly solution to human problems and hope in some sort of transcendent order in the universe. (pp. 28-9)
Always interested in formal renovation, Buero has been particularly concerned, as far back as his earliest plays, with the problem of audience identification with the dramatic action. He points out that "participation" of the spectator has always been the aim of theater, from the time of its origin with the Greeks, despite current use of the word to describe certain dramatic techniques now in vogue—techniques which evolved as a reaction to the "theater of consumption." (p. 34)
The psychic participation which Buero advocates is best illustrated by two of his own plays. In one of his very earliest plays, In the Burning Darkness, the characters are blind. Instead of having the actors approach the spectators to shout at them the horrors of blindness or forcibly to blindfold them, he extinguishes, at one point, both the stage and house lights. That this participation, although less ostensible, was effective was proved by the screams of the audience. In a very recent work, El sueño de la razón (The Sleep of Reason), the protagonist is deaf. Rather than the actors violently covering the spectators' ears and then screaming at them, they move their lips but utter no sound whenever the protagonist is on stage, thus permitting the audience to enter into his world of deafness. Thus there is produced a more authentic participation in the reality of the tragedy—a reality which is symbolic, for the blindness portrayed represents, as we shall see, man's lack of spiritual vision and the deafness, his alienation or estrangement from his fellow human beings. (pp. 37-8)
For Buero Vallejo, as we have seen, tragedy, like all art, represents an intuitive form of perception and exploration of reality, a search for understanding about man and the world. This quest for truth which tragedy proposes may take the form of a search on the part of one or more of the characters, who embody the preoccupations of the author. Often, although not always, the characters' search is a conscious one. Some of Buero's characters search for the understanding or truth which will permit them to find an earthly solution to human problems; others, for the truth which will enable them to find a metaphysical justification for the world. Of course, these two searches for truth usually overlap, for the transcendent is rooted in everyday life. (p. 40)
A major obstacle to solving human problems, in Buero's theater, is man's self-deception, his unwillingness to confront the reality of his situation, to face truths which may be painful but without the acceptance of which there can be no possibility of solutions. A question basic to all of Buero's theater, therefore, is that of escapism versus realism, illusion versus truth. (p. 41)
The attitude of Buero is the exact reverse of that of the "theater of evasion." In the latter, the characters escape from the real world, with its anguish and suffering, to a world of pretense, of illusory appearances, of darkness. This world of darkness or blindness is precisely where Buero's tragedies start. The search for "light" in both ancient Greek and modern tragedy is accompanied by anguish; but underlying this anguish is always hope: hope in man's attaining deeper understanding both of himself and of the universe. (pp. 41-2)
For convenience of discussion, we divide Buero's tragedies into two major groups corresponding to what he has pointed out as the two poles of all theater: (1) the social or vital pole, where the solution to the problems presented is generally human; and (2) the metaphysical pole. These two groups are formed by those plays which deal primarily with the two themes with which, Buero states, tragedy deals: man's search for the understanding which may enable him to (1) realize his human potential and (2) find metaphysical meaning in life. We shall see, however, that these two searches are almost never mutually exclusive.
In the first group of tragedies dealing with man's struggle for self-realization are several works which depict the problem of achieving meaningful human relationships. Buero Vallejo is concerned with the theme—so important in twentieth-century theater—of the radical solitude of the individual and his seeming inability to communicate meaningfully. We see the constant conflict which seems to characterize human relationships and the barriers which separate man from his fellow human beings. Indeed, effective communication or unity with other individuals often appears virtually unattainable. This lack of comprehension and communication is often the result of man's spiritual blindness—the egoism which prevents sympathy, compassion, and charity. (p. 42)
Almost a Fairy Tale, like The Words in the Sand and The Dream Weaver, contrasts blind egoism and incomprehension with pure disinterested love and human understanding. In all three plays, we [see] that this contrast is developed by the use of sets of opposing characters, a technique which Buero uses in many of his works. The egoist, usually the practical man of action, is contrasted with the idealist or dreamer. (p. 55)
The Dream Weaver is significant, also, in that, interwoven with the major theme of love and understanding, are suggestions of additional ideas quite important to Buero's theater. Strong antiwar sentiment, particularly, is seen in Penelope's condemnation of the contest fought "because men … reasoned and decided that, in order to avenge the honor of a poor idiot named Menelao, it was necessary to spill blood in a war that lasted ten years." Important also, is the metaphysical emphasis…. Penelope, like many of Buero's characters, even in those plays nearer the social than the metaphysical pole of his theater, conveys a consciousness of the mystery which lies beyond man's grasp and the possibility of a transcendent reality to which many men are spiritually blind.
All three tragedies are illustrative of the diversity of technique in the playwright's theater. In the search for eternal truth about man which tragedy proposes, many techniques are valid. Through the re-creation of biblical episode and Greek myth, that is, through a return to an historical or legendary past, Buero treats themes relevant to all ages. (pp. 55-6)
[In addition to these three tragedies] five other plays of Buero deal primarily with the problem of meaningful personal relationships—Madrugada (Dawn), 1953; La señal que se espera (The Awaited Sign), 1952; Hoy es fiesta (Today's a Holiday), 1956; Las cartas boca abajo (The Cards Face Down), 1957; and La doble historia del doctor Valmy (The Double Case History of Doctor Valmy), 1968. These plays deal particularly with man's search for the truth about his relationships with others or with his attempt to evade this truth…. This problem of man's willingness or unwillingness to search for truth becomes a predominant theme in [these five plays]…. In Dawn and The Awaited Sign especially, we see, in a very explicit manner, the tragic protagonists' search for the illumination upon which a deeper understanding may be based. Even though there exists the risk that the truth which the protagonists seek may result as painful and difficult to face, it is only after its acceptance that the ground is cleared for the possibility of any genuine hope. (p. 57)
In all these plays, Buero's "extraordinary capacity to extract from ordinary everyday life all in it that is … tragic" is evident.
The realism in these plays, however, is much more than a reflection of external reality. It is realism of a symbolic sort. Therefore, it would be a serious mistake rigidly to classify these tragedies as "realistic" in opposition to others such as The Dream Weaver and Almost a Fairy Tale, which are "symbolic" or "spiritual"—which is precisely what many critics have done. We have seen that Buero himself rejects any such divisions and prefers to speak of a "symbolic realism." In the plays in the group just discussed, as in all Buero's theater, external reality is endowed with symbolic, and often mysterious, meaning. (pp. 84-5)
Whereas the emphasis in the preceding plays is upon man's struggle to realize himself through creating meaningful human relationships, the emphasis in several other plays falls upon his efforts to fulfill himself through his work. These latter plays represent a search for the "light" or understanding which may enable him to accomplish something worthwhile, something to give meaning to life. The obstacles which the protagonist must overcome include social and economic limitations imposed by society as well as his personal limitations. The theme of self-fulfillment through constructive endeavor has been seen in Today's a Holiday, in which Silverio fails to fulfill his potential and abandons ambitions he once had to become an artist, and in The Cards Face Down, where Juan is unable to win a professorship. In the latter tragedy, moreover, we witness the characters' concern with the passage of time, which seems to accentuate man's failures—their references to their apartment's everwidening cracks and crumbling cornice. These themes, however, are secondary, for it is the characters' failure in the area of personal relationships which is largely responsible for their defeat. In three tragedies, however, these themes become paramount: Historia de una escalera (Story of a Stairway), 1949, El tragaluz (The Basement Window), 1967, and Concert at Saint Ovide, 1962. (p. 86)
Those plays which testify directly to contemporary Spanish life, with the exception of The Basement Window (1967), were written early in Buero's career. They develop in the Ibsen manner around psychological motives. They are generally characterized by a "closed form" in which the unities are carefully observed—especially that of place, which is used symbolically. The stairway and the terrace rooftop … represent man's desire to advance socially and financially, while the basement symbolizes his inability to do so. The historic plays, on the other hand, all of which were written after 1958, employ an "open" or "epic" structure, plastic effects, and devices usually associated with Brecht, such as narrators like Valentín Haüy in the epilogue to The Concert at Saint Ovide. Although no illusion of reality is created, the emotional involvement of the spectator is preserved; for … Buero considers that both critical reflection and emotive participation are essential. Whereas the first group of plays are psychological in emphasis, the historical ones are dialectical or ideological. (p. 106)
[In Buero's] historical plays and the fantasies … the protagonists seek to bring the light of understanding to a nation or society obscured by social injustice, moral decadence, and war. These tragedies thus constitute a search for the comprehension which will permit society as well as the individual to surmount its limitations, although the protagonists achieve self-realization through their efforts on behalf of their fellowmen. These plays include Un soñador par un pueblo (A Dreamer for a People), 1958; Las Meninas (The Ladies-in-Waiting), 1960; El sueño de la razón (The Sleep of Reason), 1970; Aventura en lo gris (Adventure in Grey), 1963; and Mito (Myth), 1968.
The protagonist in these plays is usually a dreamer or visionary like Mario, who dreams of a perfect society in The Basement Window. More often than not, he is a rebellious dreamer like David, who struggles to put his dreams into action. Since these protagonists include an enlightened politician in A Dreamer for a People, artists in The Ladies-in-Waiting and The Sleep of Reason, and a university professor in Adventure in Grey, these tragedies constitute a statement about the role of the intellectual in society. (pp. 107-08)
"Bueroism" has been spoken of [by Sergio Nerva] as a "search for love, faith, justice, and, in short, peace. Or if one prefers, for truth," and as a way of "understanding the problems of our time … a way of fighting for a better world where injustice is impossible and where man … advances, confident and secure, in search of widespread perfection." The protagonists of [these] five works struggle for this better world, striving to enlighten society about the evils of social injustice, hypocrisy, and war. Esquilache institutes a series of reforms to cure his country of its stubborn blindness and to bring "light" to an agonizing people; Velázquez struggles to declare the truth and to paint the injustice, pretense, and hypocrisy of his epoch; and Goya, to depict the monstrous evil of his own. Silvano and Eloy both endeavor to impart their dreams of peace and reconciliation. A basic aim of Buero's theater is to overcome the fanaticism and sectarianism which have darkened Spain's history—the fratricidal rage of Goya's Fighting with Clubs.
For Buero …, this reconciliation may be accomplished only through the misericordia or compassion with which the neighbors in Today's a Holiday forgive the poor old woman who has sold them false shares of a lottery ticket. The families in tragedies such as The Cards Face Down, Story of a Stairway, and The Basement Window, with their petty conflicts and quarrels, their blind incomprehension and lack of generosity, are, in fact, microcosms of the society seen in the historical tragedies and the fantasies…. (pp. 134-35)
A fundamental affirmation of all Buero's theater is the necessity of the individual exercising his inviolable liberty by winning a victory over himself, by overcoming his innate egoism. The evidence of man's love for his fellow human beings must be his kindness and abnegation…. Past culpability can be erased only through efforts on behalf of others; individual victory can be realized only in and through society. Moreover, man's ethical concern … must necessarily be translated into political activity. For Buero, even the activist and politician must be an altruistic dreamer like Esquilache.
Buero's dreamers, who strive to create the better world they envision, although morally superior to those around them, are derided as ingenuous or deluded idealists and madmen. Tragic heroes who strive to transform society into the image of their chosen ideal, they are defeated by a reality which seems unchangeable. We see the seemingly inevitable failure of human ideals and aspirations to change the world. In their struggle, however, they show their true greatness—their integrity and refusal to compromise. (pp. 135-36)
[All of these plays] evince Buero's "lack of aesthetic satisfaction" and his continuing search for appropriate techniques to express the problems of present-day society: historical distancing, fantasy, and music. Notable, especially, are the auditory and visual effects in the recreation of Goya's caprice in The Sleep of Reason and the daring, almost surrealistic dream of Adventure in Grey which is absolutely essential to the play's meaning. Buero's constant experimentation reaches a climax in Myth, a most unusual experience in Spanish theater, comparable to Brecht's efforts, in The Threepenny Opera, to create a new type of musical theater appropriate to contemporary times. (p. 136)
[Whereas the preceding tragedies] evince the social emphasis of Buero's theater, two others gravitate toward a metaphysical or philosophical pole. En la ardiente oscuridad (In the Burning Darkness), 1950, and Irene o el tesoro (Irene or the Treasure), 1954, represent a search for metaphysical "light" or understanding. Neither, however, lacks social significance, for all of man's problems, even when metaphysical in nature, possess social transcendence. Buero's entire theater is an effort to understand what he calls "the great miracle of reality." (p. 137)
[In these two plays] as in most of Buero's theater, the metaphysical is intermingled with the social. It is not only his blindness—both physical and spiritual—against which Ignacio rebels, but the attitude of society which minimizes its significance. Irene's dreams likewise represent a judgment upon the other characters…. Here, as in most of Buero's tragedies, we see the contrast between man's egoism and his kindness. In its exposition of social realities, Irene or the Treasure obviously resembles Story of a Stairway and Today's a Holiday, which depict the misery and sordidness of the existence of the lower economic classes. This sordidness of Irene's surroundings is indeed underscored by its contrast with the new world of "light" that she dreams of.
Both In the Burning Darkness and Irene or the Treasure exemplify the same sort of symbolic realism we have seen in many of Buero's plays, such as The Awaited Sign and Today's a Holiday, which, also, have metaphysical or transcendent elements. In Irene or the Treasure, we have a lyric and poetic atmosphere quite similar to that of The Awaited Sign, Almost a Fairy Tale, and The Dream Weaver. The visual and auditory effects so noted by critics in Buero's recent works, such as The Sleep of Reason, are not absent from these plays even though In the Burning Darkness is the first play he wrote and Irene or the Treasure among his earliest. The visual contrast of the green leaves with the bare tree branches in In the Burning Darkness—which reminds us that Buero, like several of his characters, was once a painter—sets the anguished tone of the play in much the same way as the music of "Moonlight Sonata" and "Aase's Death" from the Peer Gynt Suite, which is heard when Ignacio is murdered. The lullaby which Irene hums when she dreams of her child recalls the violin music which David of The Concert at Saint Ovide plays whenever he dreams of Melania, symbol of the ideal, and Handel's "Water Music," which sounds whenever Leticia of Almost a Fairy Tale sees the ugly Prince Riquet through the eyes of love. Indeed, the skillful use of music, which reaches a climax in Myth, is a major characteristic of all of Buero's theatrical works. (pp. 147-48)
Buero's tragedies generally end ambivalently with a question the purpose of which is to lead the spectator to reflect upon the problems presented. However, even the tragedy ending in catastrophe without apparent hope, such as The Words in the Sand, invites him to avoid the mistakes of the protagonist; for Buero believes that theater ends not with the final scene, but with the possible spiritual ennoblement of the spectator.
From an analysis of Buero's plays, it is obvious that he has followed very closely his own concept of tragedy as a phenomenon which is always positive, which proposes an encounter with the truth which may free man from his spiritual blindness. His plays propose this encounter, but they do not affirm it. Therefore, his attitude toward this struggle for truth which his tragedies propose, is hardly the "resounding 'yes'" for which he says the writer of tragedy longs. Since most of them end with a question rather than any definitive solution, his attitude is rather one of unending hope, that heralded by doña Nieves in Today's a Holiday: "One must hope … always hope…. Hope never ends. Hope is infinite." (p. 150)
Martha T. Halsey, in her Antonio Buero Vallejo (copyright © 1973 by Twayne Publishers, Inc.; reprinted with the permission of Twayne Publishers, A Division of G. K. Hall & Co., Boston), Twayne, 1973, 178 p.
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