[In the following essay, Previtali explains Güiraldes's motivations and aims in writing Don Segundo Sombra as being from a need to capture and romanticize the disappearing gaucho culture.]

THE TALES

Two tales are introduced into the novel as separate narrative units. They are told by don Segundo. The first, which appears in Chapter XII, is the story of Dolores and the son of the Devil. Dolores, a young paisano, fell in love with a beautiful girl, Consuelo, while spying on her as she bathed in the Paraná River. Suddenly a large, red flamingo swooped down, changed her into a midget, and flew off with her. Running away in a daze, Dolores stumbled upon a good witch who took pity on him. She told him that the flamingo was really the dwarf son of the devil Añang, explaining that he had taken the form of a bird to ravish young maidens. She advised him how to rescue Consuelo by breaking the spell with certain holy charms and Indian magic. Carrying out the good witch's instructions, Dolores proceeded to an island where he found an enchanted palace in which the dwarf had imprisoned his victims. When the flamingo alighted and changed into the form of the dwarf, Dolores caught him and castrated him. Whereupon, a flock of little maidens, no bigger than ostrich chicks, rushed from the disappearing palace, among them Consuelo. Dolores returned them to their normal sizes by sprinkling them with holy water. He then embraced Consuelo with whom he lived happily ever after.

The story is in the nature of a fairy tale. Its theme, in fact, is similar to the liberation of the beautiful princess from an evil spell,¹ so familiar to children. Furthermore, the enchantments described are reminiscent of the fantasies of Oriental tales² and European popular stories.³ Withal, Güiraldes' treatment of the tale banishes the impression of any origin other than that of the native environment. He has achieved this autochthonous effect by casting the elements of the narration into local terms. Specifically he has regionalized the setting, the personalities, and the language.

The setting is located on the far reaches of the Paraná River in Northern Argentina which, though somewhat exotic, is known to the listeners by hearsay. Its regional aspect is enhanced by the introduction of indigenous vegetation and animals. Among the flora are sombra'e toro⁴ (p. 113), arboleda macuca,⁵ and raíces de flor del aire⁶ (p. 118), while the fauna are tigres,⁷yarareses,⁸ and loros (p. 118). Also natural to the area are the caburé⁹ and the flamingo. Although the flamingo, described as bright red in color like the blood of a bull and comparable in size to an ostrich, bears a resemblance to the legendary Roc in the Arabian Nights Entertainment, the relevant consideration is that Güiraldes has chosen a bird that is native of the country. Indeed the environment, while uncommon to the pampa, is nevertheless entirely local.

The personalities are familiar countryfolk. Dolores and Consuelo represent ordinary paisanos who live in a normal manner until involved in the supernatural. The good witch corresponds to a known type, not unlike a curandera who possesses a knowledge of magic. The wicked dwarf is described as the son of Añang, who is feared by all good country people.

The vernacular in which the tale is told intensifies the regional atmosphere not only with the rustic form of its expression but also with its imagery. While the discussion of the language is reserved to the subsequent study of the style, it is opportune to observe that Güiraldes has intensified the presence of the environment by introducing into the speech of the narrator such images of local realia as the fox in the following example:

… el corazón le corcoviaba en el pecho como zorro entrampao.

(p. 113)

Güiraldes has also cast the magic spells in terms of the local superstitions of the paisanos. These are of two classes, magia negra and magia blanca. To the former belong the Indian beliefs, among which are those related to Añang and to the caburé. Añang is the name given by the aborigines to the Evil One, who has passed from their beliefs to the place of the Devil in the credence of the countryfolk. Similarly derived is the belief that the caburé is filled with wickedness and that its feathers, worn as a charm, have the mysterious power of breaking a spell. On the other hand, the charms associated with the religion of more civilized people are considered good and consequently are designated white magic. This is illustrated in the use of holy water to direct Dolores' arrow in killing the caburé and to disenchant the maidens. It is interesting to note the power of white magic over the black. In all, it is apparent that the distinct regional quality of the tale flows from the presentation of both the substance and the form of the story from the point of view of the paisano.

The second story, which appears in Chapter XXI, is of an entirely different nature. It is a moral tale with a humorous turn. As appears from the following summary, it involves the theme of the Faust legend:

One day when Our Lord was journeying throughout the Holy Land with Saint Peter, the mule on which he was riding lost a shoe. At the next village, the travelers stopped at the shop of a blacksmith. The smith's name was Misery because he was so poor. He had no iron, but gladly fashioned the shoe from a piece of silver. When he refused to accept payment, Our Lord granted him three wishes. Misery, instead of asking for admission to Heaven, foolishly requested, among other wishes, that whosoever should enter his tobacco pouch might not leave without his permission. After Our Lord had left, the smith reproached himself for not having asked for unlimited money and twenty years to enjoy it. Thereupon, the Devil appeared and gave him his wish in exchange of his soul. In time, Misery cleverly tricked all the devils of Hell into his tobacco pouch, thus freeing the world of evil. But, the doctors, lawyers, and rulers, who thrived on the misfortunes of the earth, were deprived of their livelihood and complained to the governor. The governor ordered Misery to release the devils, whereupon the world was set aright. When Misery died he was refused admittance to Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell. As a result he was compelled to wander the earth forever. And that is why there will always be misery and poverty in this world.

In spite of the difference in substance between the two stories the treatment of the second tale is similar to that of the first inasmuch as, here again, Güiraldes has cast the setting, the personalities, and the language into a regional mold. The narration is located in a familiar environment which, as before, is disclosed by the various impressions of the native milieu. The smith's poor shop for instance, though common also in other parts, is typical of the area. Similarly, his chambergo, the duck pond and the horse blanket are known local realia. Furthermore, Our Lord and Saint Peter, instead of riding upon asses as might be expected, are pictured traveling on mules in the manner of humble paisanos.

Among the personalities, the smith is a familiar type. Not only does he speak in the vernacular, but he possesses the native traits of hospitality and that characteristic astuteness, called malicia, which he displays in outwitting the devils. In spite of the fact that the devils, Saint Peter, and Our Lord are not native characters, their conversation in the regional dialect makes them appear like local inhabitants. When, for example, Our Lord also speaks in the vernacular, the odd incongruity, without seeming irreverent, produces a humorous effect: “—Güenas tardes—dijo Nuestro Señor” (p. 221).

Besides the dialect of the characters, the rustic language in which the story is told here again intensifies the impression of the rural environment. As before, this is achieved by reproducing the images of the local realia, which in this instance are associated with the smith's barnyard as, for example, the clucking hen that enlivens the following expression:

… Se puso a gritar como gallina culeca.

(p. 232)

Although these tales are written in gaucho vernacular, they do not fall within the tradition of gauchesque literature. On the contrary, because of their contemporary subject matter and the humorous tone in which they are told, they represent the art of criollo storytelling. Indeed, their significance lies in the characterization of don Segundo as a storyteller.

DON SEGUNDO IN FICTION

In the creation of the novelistic figure of don Segundo Sombra, Güiraldes was guided by certain motivations. Principal among these was his wish to record the last of a disappearing type of man. He proposed to interpret the aesthetic and moral values of the gaucho. In fact in 1922 he had written to Larbaud that he wanted to reveal the poetic, philosophic, musical, and pictorial aspects of an unexpressed race.¹⁰ Furthermore, his life-long affection for Segundo Ramírez, the old peón who lived on the estancia, moved him to capture his portrait in a novel. He had already disclosed this intention to his friend Miomandre in Paris in 1920 when he told him that he planned to write the history of a man he had known since his childhood.¹¹

Don Segundo is represented as a strong, silent man (p. 26). His speech is characteristically laconic (p. 24). He expresses himself rarely and then only in a minimum of words (p. 44). When he does, his voice is calm (pp. 20, 156), with a sharp clear quality (pp. 20, 23, 156), described as a falsetto (p. 45). At times, the tone of his comments have a ring of irony (p. 27).

In considering the artistic aspect of his subject, Güiraldes had also said, “¿Y en cada una de las formas de arte, hay un alma que está esperando su palabra!”¹² Specifically, he wanted to describe the arts of improvising couplets, of criollo dances, and of story telling. By ascribing these talents to don Segundo, he attributed to him the picturesqueness of a traditional figure. But Güiraldes has made no mention of the art of payar. Indeed, at no time does don Segundo play the guitar, although it is referred to casually: “Con una guitarra por medio.” (p. 283). Don Segundo therefore is not portrayed as a payador, and, in this respect, he differs from such legendary characters as Santos Vega.

In story telling, however, don Segundo is a master. He had already been pictured in this role in “Al rescoldo.”¹³ When, in the novel, he again appears as a storyteller, his character changes from what it is in the rest of the book. Contrary to his usual laconic manner of speech, his expression is facile and fluent. Moreover, he has lost the stoicism of the strong, silent man and has acquired the sensibilities of an artist. Before beginning his tales, he hesitates in order to create a suitable atmosphere of anticipation (pp. 112, 220). During the narration he keeps his audience spellbound by creating a climate of credulity. Furthermore, the humorous vein in which he tells the stories differs from the tragic tone that characterizes the narrations of legendary gauchos as, for example, in Martín Fierro and Santos Vega o los mellizos de “La Flor.” He tells them with the optimistic spirit and the sense of malicia typical of the Argentine rustic. Thus don Segundo is represented as a criollo storyteller and not as a legendary gaucho narrator.

Besides these colorful aspects, Güiraldes' intention was also to represent the noble character of the gaucho as he conceived it. His idea of the moral fibre of this Argentine type had not been fully represented in gauchesque literature. He envisioned an apology of the gaucho distinct from the concepts of Facundo, Martín Fierro, and the gauchos malos of Gutiérrez. Accordingly don Segundo does not have the cruelty, the violence, and the despotism of Facundo, nor does he have the pathetic self-commiseration and the defeatism of Martín Fierro, nor the murderous vindictiveness and the elements of tragic fatefulness of Gutiérrez' outlaws. Instead of the negative traits of the gauchos of history and legend, Güiraldes attributed affirmative values to don Segundo. What he considered these to be appears in his explanation to El libro bravo in which he proposed to exalt “the characteristics of the men of our race.”¹⁴ He summarized them as follows:

Mi orgullo

Mi hombría

Mi insolencia

Mi enojo

Mi risa

Mi amor

Mi coraje

Mi soledad

Mi dominio

Mi malicia

Mi sangre

Mi hospitalidad

Mi generosidad

Mi fuerza

Mi pureza

Mi nobleza

Mi compadrada

Mi anarquía

Among these are the moral qualities of the ideal gaucho. In order to represent them more readily, he embodied them in a single model. Thus, by ascribing them to don Segundo Sombra, he made of him an ideal personality.

His purpose, however, went beyond the representation of an ideal character. It was also to express a way of being inherent in the native mentality. As he himself disclosed, his concern was to interpret the philosophy of the men of the pampa:

¿Filosofía? Aún no tuvo pensadores que le dieran un libro que fuera tabla de su ley. Pero sí tuvo hombres que a fuerza de ser humanos, dieron fragmentariamente un soplo de grandeza uniforme.¹⁵

What exactly is this philosophy has not been stated in so many words. But it does transpire from don Segundo's attitude toward life, especially when he is faced with physical and moral adversities.

His character, indeed, is stoic. He accepts fate unwincingly. “The worst that can happen to me is death” (p. 254) is his way of thinking. Having no fear of destiny, he is calm and self-possessed. When confronted with a physical hardship such as an injury from a fall, his attitude is one of absolute indifference (p. 255). Before adversity of a moral nature he displays the same fortitude. Instances of this are when he is attacked by the tape¹⁶ Burgos (p. 27), when he is arrested by the police corporal (p. 134), and when he is provoked by the drunken storekeeper (p. 246). He laughs at his misfortunes with a suggestion of irony (p. 254). There is no tragedy-ridden defeatism in him. On the contrary, he has the affirmative spirit of a strong man who overcomes his troubles (p. 255).

His domineering nature inclines him to being authoritative, so much so that he is prone to give orders to the estancia owners who employ him (p. 94). He would have made a great gaucho guerilla leader: “¡Qué caudillo de montonera hubiera sido!” (p. 94). Although he has the reputation of an able fighter of duels (p. 140), he is opposed to violence and killing. He believes in such combats according to the rules of fair play: “Yo he tenido más de muchas de estas diferencias con hombres que eran o se craiban malos y nunca me han cortado ni tampoco he muerto a nadie, porque no he hallao necesidá” (p. 250). Don Segundo is the antithesis of the gaucho malo.

Beneath his outward appearance of austerity, he possesses a sense of human values and is moved by affection. An example of this is his characteristic gaucho loyalty to friends regardless of the circumstances into which they had fallen (pp. 140-141). Also typical is his courtesy, especially with humble countryfolk (pp. 41, 246). He has a sympathetic understanding of his fellow men in trouble and, putting aside petty considerations, expresses it generously (pp. 27-28, 151). His paternal affection for Fabio, the boy, and later for Fabio, the youth, appears beneath his severe exterior manner (pp. 84, 153, 220, 234, 266, 268, 271, 285). As the man described in Güiraldes book, El libro bravo,¹⁷ don Segundo possesses a sensibility that has the quality of greatness.

To wander on horseback across the plains is his life. He is driven by his restlessness to be ever on the march (p. 94), and can never remain long in one place: “Llegar no es, para un resero, más que un pretexto para partir” (p. 285). Freedom is a part of his being (p. 94). He resists the restrictions of civilized society and flees from the oppressiveness of human congregations (pp. 123, 125). Seeking the solitude of the prairie, he communes with himself. He is anarchic and independent (p. 94). From the gaucho of old he has inherited the spirit of the pampa. All told, don Segundo is also a symbol of the gaucho philosophy of life.

In his literary treatment of don Segundo, Güiraldes has revived an image of the traditional gaucho. It is queried how he has been able to surround his character with an aura of legend when don Segundo is described as a cattle driver living in modern times.

The explanation is in part that Güiraldes has represented don Segundo in the eyes of a small boy and of a youth. It is evident that Fabio worships the legendary gauchos. Chief among these heroes are, no doubt, Martín Fierro, Santos Vega, and the notorious gauchos malos. Quite naturally he transfers their images to don Segundo. So it is that, in the light of Fabio's imagination, the reader sees the old peón as a gaucho of the past.

Accordingly, it is Fabio, and not Güiraldes, who imagines the legendary aspects of don Segundo. His descriptions are few and brief. The initial impression, picturing the dark figure silhouetted against the sky, conveys the image of a gaucho horseman:

El jinete, que me pareció enorme bajo su poncho claro …

Inmóvil, miré alejarse, extrañamente agrandada contra el horizonte luminoso, aquella silueta de caballo y jinete.

(pp. 20, 21)

The second impression, which follows immediately upon the first, suffuses the image of the horseman in the half-light of vague terms which suggest a ghost-like apparition from the past:

Me pareció haber visto un fantasma, una sombra, algo que pasa y es más una idea que un ser. …

(pág. 21)

Lastly, Fabio attributes to don Segundo certain qualities of the traditional gaucho. These are the shrouded appearance of the tapao,¹⁸ the mysteriousness of a person who has reason to hide his identity and his past, the meaningful silence that typifies a man of few words and violent action, and the faculty of inspiring a sensation of awe in the fantasy of a small boy:

De golpe, el forastero volvió a crecer en mi imaginación. Era el “tapao”, el misterio, el hombre de pocas palabras que inspira en la pampa una admiración interrogante.

(p. 26)

Once Don Segundo's mysterious personality is established upon his entry at the beginning of the book, it is retained throughout by describing him as little as possible. Moreover, it is important to note in this connection that Güiraldes has represented don Segundo from a distant perspective. There is no close-up view of his character that allows the reader to penetrate into his emotions and into the working of his mind. On the contrary, the description of don Segundo is limited to wholly external impressions while his inner being is hidden in silence or implied from his conduct. It is apparent that Güiraldes deliberately clouded the intimate features of his character in order to envelope him in mystery as, indeed, Fabio affirms:

Pero, ¡qué hombre que no concluía nunca de conocer!

(p. 153)

Güiraldes intensifies the legendary character of don Segundo at the end of his novel. In the same manner as at the beginning of the narration he again pictures the dark figure of the gaucho horseman silhouetted against the sky:

Un momento la silueta doble se perfiló nítida sobre el cielo.

(p. 285)

And, once more he describes him in the vague terms which give him the quality of a ghost from the past:

Aquello que se alejaba era más una idea que un hombre.

It will be observed that Güiraldes has recalled the first impressions of don Segundo by reiterating the same images in similar language. In this way he has created an evocative effect which strengthens the illusion of the shadowy apparition. Besides, he represents Fabio experiencing this sensation himself:

Mis ojos dormían en lo familiar de sus actitudes. Un rato ignoré si veía o evocaba.

(p. 285)

The conclusion of the novel leaves the reader with a lasting impression of don Segundo. This is produced by the artistic treatment of the old gaucho as he disappears riding away into the shadows of the pampa. The dilution of the concrete image of the horseman into an abstraction is achieved in a gradual fading away. It is a fading away in two dimensions. One is in distance, and the other is in the failing light of dusk. In both instances, the progressive disappearance is contained in a succession of brief tableaux vivants. In the dimension of distance, each impression of don Segundo's diminishing figure is followed by a short eclipse. All together they emphasize the separate steps of his disappearance as set out below:

IMPRESSION 1:
Lo vi alejarse al tranco.
ECLIPSE 1:
… caballo y jinete repecharon la loma …
IMPRESSION 2:
Un momento la silueta doble se perfiló nítida sobre el cielo …
ECLIPSE 2:
Y bruscamente desapareció …
IMPRESSION 3:
La silueta reducida de mi padrino apareció en la lomada.
ECLIPSE 3:
Mi vista se ceñía enérgicamente sobre aquel pequeño movimiento en la pampa somnolente.
IMPRESSION 4:
Se fue reduciendo como si lo cortaran de abajo en repetidos tajos.
ECLIPSE 4:
Sobre el punto negro del chambergo mis ojos se aferraron con afán de hacer perdurar aquel rezago. Inútil …

Concurrently the failing light of nightfall is graded in the following steps:

1. Caballo y jinete … difundidos en el cardal.
2. … el cielo, sesgado por un verdoso rayo de atardecer.
3. El anochecer vencía lento … Unas nubes tenues hacían largas estrías de luz.
4. … aquel pequeño movimiento en la pampa somnolente.

At this point the gradually disappearing figure has evaporated into an abstraction:

No sé qué extraña sugestión me proponía la presencia ilimitada de un alma.

In a final impression, Güiraldes has represented don Segundo as a spirit. He had done this, not by description, but by the power of suggestion of a single word. It is Sombra. By ascribing it as a surname to don Segundo, Güiraldes has stressed the horseman's quality of a shade from the past:

“Sombra,” me repetí.

A comparison of the fictional character with the living don Segundo shows a striking likeness. The obvious resemblance leaves no doubt that Güiraldes reproduced the portrait of the old peón de estancia. As has been seen, the similarities between the two are, in the main, the following: In both cases, the time of the setting is about 1900. Their past was veiled in mystery. Like Sombra, Ramírez was a cattle driver, adept in the skills of his profession, but neither was a true gaucho. There is no question of the identity of their physical aspects. Both had the same familiar build and the same fierce, dark-skinned countenance. Their traditional dress contributed to the impression of a gaucho of old. Moreover, the reputation of each as a fighter of duels and of having been involved in troubles suggested the unsubstantiated illusion of a gaucho malo. In action, they paralleled one another in courage and affirmative spirit. Each was equally taciturn and expressed his views in brief comments charged with a characteristic humor known as malicia. They spoke in the same falsetto voice. Neither played the guitar. On the other hand, Ramírez, like his counterpart, was said to compose couplets and to delight in folk dancing. But more than all this, both don Segundo's were masters of the art of story telling. Significant also was the fondness of the old peón for an admiring boy of fourteen, namely young Ricardo.

Although they resemble each other in these respects, they differ in others. In the novel don Segundo is respected for his imposing character and dignified conduct, but in life his humor and his propensity for fighting were a cause for some unpopularity among his fellow cowhands on the estancia. In this regard, the fictional personality of don Segundo is distinct from the real. While, therefore, the similarities indicate that Güiraldes availed himself of the physical features, the manner, and the talents of don Segundo Ramírez as a model for don Segundo Sombra, the differences disclose the author's purpose of recording the moral characteristics of the gauchos in an ideal image.

Notes

1. “Dornröschen” in Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm's Ausgewählte Märchen (Berlin, 1929), p. 7.

2. Of the various fantasies of enchantment, the one which strikes the closest resemblance to those of Oriental tales is that of the giant flamingo which recalls the Roc or Rukh in “The Story of Es-Sindibad of the Sea and of the Land,” Stories of the Thousand and One Nights (New York, 1910), pp. 256-257.

3. María Rosa Lida in El cuento popular hispano-americano y la literatura (Buenos Aires, 1941), on page 68, says that there is evidence that the story of defeating the devil with the use of charms has entered Argentine folklore from the European legend of “El velador de la casa hechizada.” María Rosa Lida mentions the origin of an Argentine version as follows: “… el cuento del soldado caritativo que vence al diablo con la ayuda de ciertas prendas mágicas (Fernán Caballero, Juan Soldado, Ramírez de Arellano, No. 126; Cuento Argentino, Juan Lume, de Río Hondo, Santiago del Estero; y asociado con prendas mágicas, pero dentro de un argumento distinto, Llano, 5).”

4. Jodina rhombifolium, an indigenous tree with thorny foliage, known locally also as quebracho flojo, quebracho blando, and quebracho falso.

5. A grove of umbrella trees.

6. Bromeliácea argentina.

7. Tigre is the Argentine term for jaguar.

8. Yarareses is a word, derived from Guaraní, designating the poisonous snakes, natural to the tropics of Argentina and Brazil.

9. Strigiforme, species of gladicium nanum, a small brown South American bird with a shrill call and an aggressive manner, believed to be rapacious and sometimes designated as el rey de los pajaritos.

10. Güiraldes, “A Valery Larbaud,” Sur (No. 1, Verano 1931), p. 105.

11. Francis de Miomandre, “Recuerdo de Güiraldes,” La Nación (Jan. 7, 1940).

12. Güiraldes, “A Valery Larbaud,” p. 106.

13. Cuentos de muerte y de sangre, p. 82.

14. Güiraldes, El libro bravo (San Antonio de Areco, 1936), pp. 5, 9.

15. Ibid., p. 18.

16. The Argentine designation for a Guaraní Indian.

17. Op. cit.

18. The word tapao in this context means a mysterious person who covers his features with a cloak or other garment.