SOURCE: Giuliano, William. “The Role of Man and of Woman in Buero Vallejo's Plays.” Hispanofila 39 (May 1970): 21-8.

The underlying theme of Buero Vallejo's plays is unquestionably man's efforts to realize his full capacities against the internal and external forces that restrain him. These efforts are directed toward the search for truth, the essence of reality, the creation of social justice, the attempt to establish personal, political, and artistic freedom, and other aspects of the human condition.¹ Hope is eternally present, but the nature of man and of things is such that life is inherently tragic and happiness and self-fulfillment is achieved only through great effort. “En el fondo es una tragedia [Historia de una escalera] porque la vida entera y verdadera es siempre, a mi juicio, trágica.”²

The object of this article is to examine to what extent Buero's characters have exemplified the author's underlying theme, and the reasons for their success or failure. In his dramas man succumbs to circumstance primarily because his inability to face reality and his inclination to delude himself leads to procrastination which in turn paralyzes the will and shackles him to inaction and subsequent defeat.

Urbano and Fernando (Historia de una escalera) are complete failures because they talked and dreamed about what they were going to do, but did nothing to further their dreams. Some critics have blamed their failure on their environment, symbolized by the unchanging stairway, yet others in the play did manage to raise their standard of living, namely Elvira's father, and the “Joven” and “Señor” who appear briefly at the beginning of Act. III. The latter three seemed well satisfied with their economic achievements. Urbano, however, placed all his hopes in his industrial union while Fernando considered himself a superior intellectual above menial work. Neither faced the hard fact of concentrated individual effort and struggle to inch ahead and break the chain that bound them to “la escalera.” Jean Borel attributes their failure to their being untrue to love—Fernando for marrying a girl he did not love, and Urbano for marrying a girl who did not love him.³ In Act I, however, before declaring his love to Carmina and while still indifferent to Elvira, Fernando already showed signs of his lack of ambition. Paca says of him, “Además, que le descuentan muchos días de sueldo. Y puede que le echen de la papelería … porque no va nunca.” The odds were against success in their environment, but neither Fernando nor Urbano made an effort to achieve it.

Silverio (Hoy es fiesta) also suffers from inertia. Feeling that he was the cause of the death of his wife Pilar's daughter he abandoned his painting and life in general, spending much time helping others in order to forget what he thought was his crime. Buero tells us that Silverio finally decided to face up to reality and unburden himself by confessing his negligence to his wife, but just before he did so, she passed away, thus bringing into focus the tragedy of his procrastination.⁴ Had he told her his story from the outset, Silverio, a very capable man, would have developed his talents to his utmost, but instead, he spent years brooding, trying to make up his mind to speak frankly to his wife.

Another character defeated because of his inability to face reality is Juan (Las cartas boca abajo). He refused to admit openly the merit of Carlos Ferrer, and failed to win a professorship because he was unable to answer questions concerning Ferrer's authorative books. He finally admits his weakness, saying, “Le he envidiado [a Ferrer] toda mi vida … Le envidio aún. No he sabido sobreponerme a ese sentimiento destructor … No me ayudaba nada en mi propia casa para conseguirlo, pero eso cuenta poco ahora. Yo era inteligente, pero la obsesión de sus éxitos me ha anulado. Y el pago es el fracaso.” (segunda parte, cuadro II)

Many critics blame Adela for the ills that befell the family, among them Ricardo Domenech who says, “En las cartas boca abajo se ventila el problema de la culpabilidad. Adela es culpable de haber impedido la felicidad de los demás, y, a la postre, la suya propia.”⁵ This is not fair to Adela, as Juan was also at fault. Referring to the lack of communication between his wife and him, he says, “Los dos mantenemos nuestras cartas boca abajo, en vez de enseñarlas.” (primera parte, cuadro II) This weakness of character and his inability to accept the intellectual superiority of Ferrer rendered Juan inactive and his failure should not be attributed to Adela.

Mario of El tragaluz may also be considered unsuccessful, even though at the end he is hopeful of a better future. His brother Vicente showed greater strength of character but unfortunately was selfish in his actions. Mario, on the other hand, although morally upright, was afraid of life and preferred to know the world only through the window of his basement apartment which he rarely left. Buero himself alluded to the weakness of Mario when he stated, “No me complace la idea de defender a ultranza a un paralítico voluntario [Mario] … me quedaría con el menor [Mario] si me obligan a escoger entre los dos hermanos … pero … en el desarrollo de la tragedia él también tuvo su lado negativo, y el tipo ideal para una conducta equilibrada hubiera sido un hombre intermediario entre los dos hermanos, un simbiosis de ambos, un setenta por ciento del menor y un treinta del mayor.”⁶

Not all of Buero's characters are overcome by life's circumstances. Some of them, although they meet death, are not tragic in Buero's ideology since they have realized their capacities to the fullest and have contributed something to the future of mankind. Such a character, to some degree, is Ignacio (En la ardiente oscuridad). Although he met a violent death when still young, in the brief time he had lived in the institution for the blind, he had shaken the other students who, before he came, had deluded themselves into thinking they were normal and perfectly happy. Even Carlos, who murdered him, retained some of the powerful drive to face reality, to seek knowledge, and to improve himself that had been characteristic of Ignacio.

Buero himself speaks of Ignacio's heroic qualities while comparing him with another blind protagonist, David (El concierto de San Ovidio). In an article entitled “La ceguera en mi teatro,” Buero explains that “La ceguera en mi teatro es una limitación del hombre o sea, algo que se opone a su libertad, a su libre desarrollo.”⁷ He goes on to say that both Ignacio and David sought to surmont the limitations of their handicaps. David, being older and more experienced, was better able to understand the world and had greater success. “En ambas [las dos obras] se plantea la misma cuestión, la de una sana rebeldía contra nuestras limitaciones … se plantea la posibilidad de superarlas.”⁸

David met death, but his life was an outstanding success. He had shown the other blind beggars and the world that they (the blind) were capable of playing as an orchestra, something never attempted before; he had killed the tyrannical and greedy Valindin who had tried to divest them of their dignity; he had inspired Valentín Haüy to devote his life to the blind, teaching them to read and to play music in harmony. David died, but his life's efforts were a permanent contribution to the development of normal living and social respectability for the unfortunate blind who up to that time had been considered utterly useless.

Among other relatively successful characters we might add Silvano (Aventura en lo gris) and Luis (La señal que se espera)—Silvano for having aided in bringing the dictator Goldmann to his death and giving up his life to save that of a child, and Luis for finding himself and renewing his musical activities.

Perhaps the most outstanding protagonists of Buero's plays are Esquilache (Un soñador para un pueblo) and Velázquez (Las meninas) for having realized their abilities to their greatest extent. Both were men of humble birth who rose to positions of importance. Esquilache was forced to leave Spain because of the machinations of selfish nobles and the lack of understanding by the common people. Charles III offered to retain him as minister even at the risk of civil war, but Esquilache, wishing to preserve the advances he had brought about in education, public lighting, street paving, relaxation of the Holy Inquisition, and lessening of crime through the prohibition of el embozo, elected to leave the Spain he loved to return quietly to Italy. Esquilache did more than any other character in Buero's plays to raise the level of Spain in many aspects. His forced departure might be considered a tragedy, but he was really triumphant as his reforms, having been won against bitter opposition, were preserved for future generations.

Velázquez is one of the few protagonists who lived to enjoy his success. He fought for personal and artistic freedom, and social justice against the opposition of the most powerful nobles of the court, and even dared to disobey the key. At the end he was the victor, having earmed the whole-hearted support of the king.

Up to this point discussion has been restricted to male characters because the underlying theme as stated in the first paragraph of this article refers almost exclusively to men. In keeping with Spanish tradition, however, the activities in which the above-mentioned protagonists engaged are reserved for men. Women are concerned, in Buero's plays, primarily with love and the begetting of children. “Por y para amar vive la mujer si es plenamente femenina,”⁹ the dramatist tells us. The desire to love and be loved is the greatest motivating force in the behavior of the women in Buero's dramas, and if we study this aspect of his works, it becomes evident that their degree of happiness or unhappiness and fulfillment of self is directly proportionate to the depth of the love they feel for a particular man and the intensity of the response inspired.

The character who achieves the greatest heights in the realization of her role as a woman is Amalia (Madrugada), the central figure of one of Buero's most tense dramas. Amalia, who felt a coldness developing in her husband Mauricio's attitude toward her, was unable to find out the reason for it before his death. Feeling that it was the result of gossip spread by one of his relatives before his death, she called them to her home minutes after his demise, pretending that he was still alive but liable to pass away at any moment. She attempts to extract the truth, promising that she will not permit her husband to leave her his wealth, but to leave it to them instead. By playing on their lust for money she finally discovers that her conjecture was correct, and, moreover, that her husband had loved her deeply to the end.

Amalia had been the mistress of a painter before becoming the mistress, and later, wife, of Mauricio. His death meant wealth for her, but, this was of no importance. She was tortured by the thought that he had married and left her his fortune merely as payment for services rendered. She loved him profoundly and had to find out if he had still loved her up to the time of his death. Her bold plan was successful, and the knowledge that she was still united to Mauricio even in death, gave her the strength to continue living. Her supreme effort, and the depth of their mutual love made Amalia, in Buero's ideology, reach the zenith of feminine accomplishment.

Vying with Amalia for success in carrying out a woman's function in life to its greatest heights and as a richly developed dramatic character is Penelope, protagonist of La tejedora de sueños. Buero destroys Homer's characterization of Penelope as the perpetually faithful loving wife, and substitutes for it a Penelope who, true to her womanly instincts, cannot wait indefinitely for a husband who has abandoned her to fight a war over another woman. She falls in love with Anfino, one of her many suitors, who loves her sincerely. Their love, however, remains platonic. When Ulysses returns and slays the suitors, including Anfino, Penelope reproaches him for his long absence and his cowardliness in disguising himself, and declares her undying love for the deceased Anfino. Both Amalia and Penelope, therefore, give meaning to their lives only through fulfillment in a love which transcends mortal existence.

Two other characters who have lesser roles in their plays, Adriana (El concierto de San Ovidio) and Ana (Aventura en lo gris), the former mistress of the cruel Valindin and the latter mistress of the tyrant Goldmann, abandon their lovers to find true requited love in the blind David and in the intellectual Silvano respectively. Both pairs of lovers find their unions short-lived as death soon claims three of them.

The four female characters discussed are not virtuous women by normal standards. We see, therefore, that for Buero, the spiritual union of a man and a woman transcends conventional morality as well as mortal existence.

Irene (Irene o el tesoro) differs from the aforementioned heroines in that she achieves fulfillment in an abnormal manner. After the death of her husband and loss of her child in childbirth, Irene rejects love with another man, and creates in her mind el duende Juanito who replaces the child she had lost. She too goes to her death, happily, led by Juanito.

Although the women herein described have had their love relations interrupted by death, their lives have been, in a real sense, not tragic, since death is only a natural phenomenon that alters physical contacts but does not change the spiritual union. The survivors find an inner tranquillity from the knownledge that they have completed their missions as women.

Both the positive and negative aspects of Buero's concept of the role of love in the happiness of a woman is seen in his Casi un cuento de hadas, based on Charles Perrault's Riquet à la houppe. The unhappy Princess Leticia, beautiful but considered stupid, is made to feel intelligent by the ugly Prince Riquet whom she sees as a handsome man. They are happy for a while. Riquet, however, is obliged to leave for a time, and in his absence Leticia falls in love with the handsome Armando. The latter agrees to marry her only for reasons of state. Leticia is not happy with this unrequited love. Riquet returns, and is rejected by Leticia. Later he kills Armando, in a quarrel generated by the latter. Leticia now seeks Riquet for her husband even though her love for him has died. She begs him to marry her, realizing that her only possibility for happiness lies in him. She pleads, “¡No te marches! ¡Sólo tú tienes el poder de abrir mis ojos. Aunque sea en el dolor, busquemos el sortilegio de nuevo!” (Acto III).

Thus, while she and Riquet were deeply in love, Leticia was sublimely happy and even saw him as the handsomest of men. Her betrothal to Armando, however, negated the concept of “love and be loved” and therefore led only to frustration and despair. In her final reunion with Riquet it was she who lacked love, hence a state of unhappiness prevails although the play ends on a note of hope as she strives to recapture the spirit of her first, uplifting love for Riquet.

The tragic consequences in the lives of women who fail to follow the formula of “love and be loved” is seen clearly in other female characters of Buero's plays. In Historia de una escalera both Carmina and Elvira, though married, have not found happines. Both betrayed the formula—Carmina for having accepted Urbano with whom she was not in love, and Elvira for having pursued Fernando who was not in love with her. The depths of the tragedy is expressed in the final scene when Carmina, who had been in love with Fernando, accuses Elvira of having stolen him from her when they were young. In the presence of both husbands, Elvira angrily replies, “¿Cree Vd. que se lo quité? Se lo regalaría de buena gana!” (Acto III).

When all were young and unmarried, Carmina and Fernando were in love with each other. Their union probably would have brought happiness, but the marriages consummated were lacking in mutual love, and subsequent bitterness, recriminations, and unhappiness were the inevitable results. The children Carmina and Fernando pledge their love, but their future is left in doubt.

The character who reaps the most tragic consequences of the failure to be true to her womanly role in life is Adela (Las cartas boca abajo). Most critics view her as a woman who destroys the life of others. F. C. Sainz de Robles calls this play “el problema de una familia deschecha, acobardaba, por el egoísmo feroz de uno de sus miembros.”¹⁰ Domingo Pérez Minik calls Adela a Hedda Gabler, a Bernarda Alba, “Adela ejerce una matriarcada feroz, que recuerda al de La Casa de Bernarda Alba …, se asemeja a la Hedda Gabler ibseniana … Es otra comedia de víctimas de un despotismo político familiar ejercido a la fuerza por Adela.”¹¹

While it is true that Adela was a destructive force in the lives of those close to her, in the end, she was the most abject victim of all, having lost the affections of sweetheart, sister, husband, and son, and was condemned to a life of spiritual loneliness.

The basic reason for the action which led Adela to make others, and eventually herself, unhappy, was rooted in her failure to remain true to her role as a woman, to “love and be loved.”

Adela, when young, wooed Carlos Ferrer away from her sister even though she was not in love with him. Carlos later abandoned her when he realized she did not love him. When it was as too late Adela did fall in love with Carlos. She married Juan merely to spite Carlos, and hoped to show him that her inspiration would make Juan more successful in life, but fate ruled otherwise, and it was Juan who was the failure. Though never mentioned, Carlos created a wall between Adela and Juan. She had married the man she did not love, and the spirit of the one she loved wrecked her life and that of her family.

Adela was the most active of Buero's female characters in betraying her role as a woman. To lure a man she did not love from another woman, and later to marry a man she did not love, were grievous sins in the eyes of Buero Vallejo, and for these she received a severe punishment—the loss of even her son's love and respect. At the end she was a tragic figure, more to be pitied than to be condemned.

This article has been limited to a discussion of the underlying role of man and woman in Buero's plays. The references to action in the plays has been restricted to the bare minimum required to substantiate the observations made. Frequently the characters and action symbolize situations which are far different from their surface appearance, but space does not permit a deeper interpretative study.

In spite of the repeated criticism that Buero's plays are entirely pessimistic and devoid of hope, by using the criteria of the author it can be said that there is much optimism and achievement in the actions of Buero's heroes and heroines. The fact that many of them die does not make them tragic figures, “Tragedia no es necesariamente catástrofe final, sino una especial manera de entender el final, sea feliz o amargo.”¹² Upon considering the vicissitudes of Buero's characters, we may conclude that individual deaths are irrevelant and not necessarily tragic, that a man's success in life is to be measured by the importance of the contribution he has made to the betterment of society, and a woman's success by the depth of a requited love and her role as a mother.

Notes

1. For a full discussion of Buero's dramatic theory read Kessel Schwartz's “Buero Vallejo and the Concept of Tragedy, Hispania, (December 1968), pp. 817-824.

2. Antonio Buero Vallejo, Historia de una escalera, (Barcelona: Janes, 1950), p. 155.

3. Théatre de l'Impossible, (Neuchâtel: La Bacconière, 1963); Spanish translation El teatro de lo imposible, (Madrid: Guadarrama, 1966).

4. Comentario de Antonio Buero Vallejo, Hoy es fiesta. Colección teatro no. 176 (Madrid: Escelier, 1957), pp. 99-109. (Subsequent editions have omitted the comentario.)

5. “Reflexiones sobre el teatro de Buero Vallejo,” Primer Acto, no. 11 (noviembre-diciembre 1959), p. 6.

6. Angel Fernández Santos, “Una entrevista con Buero Vallejo,” Primer Acto, no. 90, (noviembre 1967), p. 12.

7. La carreta (septiembre 1963), p. 5.

8. Ibid.

9. Comentario de Buero Vallejo, Madrugada, Colección teatro no. 96, (Madrid: Escelier, 1954), p. 91. (Subsequent editions have omitted the comentario.)

10. Teatro español, 1957-58, (Madrid: Aguilar, 1959), p. VII.

11. Teatro europeo contemporáneo, (Madrid: Guadarrama, 1961), p. 389.

12. Comentario de Buero Vallejo, Irene o el tesoro, Colección teatro, no. 12, (Madrid: Escelier, 1955), pp. 122-23. (Subsequent editions have omitted the comentario).