As critics have pointed out on various occasions,¹ Cortázar's short stories have lacked in general the attention they deserve. “La señorita Cora,”² which is the focus of our study here, is no exception. In spite of its literary merit, it has warranted only scant mention in broader studies on Cortázar's work. On such occasions, critics have tended to view it as an outstanding example of Cortázar's art of narration, both in terms of the “múltiple punto de vista,” or multiple perspective, achieved by juxtaposing interior monologues and conversations, and his move towards deeper psychological studies of his characters.³ What throws even more light on this short story, however, is a study based on the interplay of the different characters and their relationships. In this article I hope to show how, on a closer reading of “La señorita Cora,” it becomes obvious that what we are involved with here is sexuality, and the struggle for dominance, principally between Pablo and the young nurse Cora, but also between Pablo and his mother, Cora and the mother, and Cora and her boyfriend, the doctor Marcial.⁴

“La señorita Cora” is the story of an adolescent male Pablito, who goes into hospital to have his appendix removed, but, owing to unexpected complications, does not recover from surgery. Characteristically, Cortázar does not intrude into the narrative, but gives us a multiple viewpoint through his use of interior monologues and dialogues, letting his characters speak for themselves, unconsciously revealing their psychological make-up and respective strengths and weaknesses. Nevertheless, through the title of the story and the lines of the folk-song heading the text, he gives us a clear pointer as to the direction it is going to take. As we shall see, the title, “La señorita Cora,” is to represent firstly the distance which Cora initially tries to keep between herself and Pablo, by refusing to allow him to address her directly by her first name, and later the distance which Pablo himself establishes as he, in turn, exerts his dominance over the young nurse. The sexual undertones to the story are again signalled in the lines of the folk-song, with their reference to a relationship made problematical by age difference, with the title itself, “The trees that grow so high,” establishing the phallic imagery which is to be a constant throughout the story.

The first relationship in which the female is the dominant partner is introduced through the opening interior monologue of the mother, who reveals herself as being dominating and over-protective towards her son, refusing to recognise that he is on the threshold of manhood: “Después de todo tiene apenas quince años, y nadie se los daría, siempre pegado a mí ahora aunque con los pantalones largos quiere disimular y hacerse el hombre grande” (87). Any references to the husband are minimal. It is clearly she who wears the trousers and expects to take control of the situation. Forced to relinquish her tight hold on Pablo as he enters hospital, she deeply resents being replaced as her son's guardian by the young nurse, “esa mocosa de enfermera” (87). This is not, however, a simple case of an over-anxious mother. Sexual implications are clearly present in the relationship and it is jealousy and suspicion which surface, rather than motherly concern, as she is told that she is not allowed to stay with her son: “yo me pregunto si verdaderamente tiene órdenes de los médicos o si lo hace por pura maldad. … No hay más que mirarla para darse cuenta de quién es, con esos aires de vampiresa” (87-88). When she does not see Cora the following day, deprived of a chance to re-establish her dominance directly—“me hubiera gustado encontrármela a la enfermera de ayer para verle bien la cara y ponerla en su sitio nada más que mirándola de arriba abajo” (90)—she makes a point of exerting her authority by reporting Cora to the doctor: “aproveché para decirle que me había llamado la atención la impertinencia de la enfermera de la tarde” (9l).⁵

Pablo clearly resents his mother's treatment of him, aware of the impression she is making on Cora, and his embarrassment becomes more and more acute as his attraction for Cora grows: “mamá cree que soy un chico y me hace hacer cada papelón” (88); “me hubiera querido morir de rabia” (93). Cora, for her part, sums him us as a typical “mother's boy” and determines to treat him as such, addressing him in the familiar form and taking away his sweets as if he were a little boy, actions interpreted by Pablo, no doubt correctly, as taking out her dislike of the mother on the son: “Seguro que todavía estaba enojada por lo que le había dicho mamá …” (89); “Seguro que estaba furiosa por lo de mamá y se desquitaba conmigo, de puro resentida” (89); “estoy seguro de que está resentida por culpa de mamá” (95).

Pablo's self-consciousness and growing anger, however, are far from being those of a little boy. Cortázar makes it quite clear that these are the reactions of an adolescent who does not want to be belittled in front of a woman to whom he is already attracted. Cora sums this up in a conversation with Marcial when later she tries to rationalise the situation: “todo empezó mal por culpa de la madre … el chico tiene su orgullo y le duele … quiso hacerse el grande, mirarme como si fueras vos, como un hombre” (106). Similarly, Pablo's interior monologue bears witness to the fact that the nurse has had a considerable effect on him: “La enfermera es bastante simpática”; “me puse colorada porque me tomó de sorpresa que me tuteara”; “quería seguir enojado con ella pero no podía” (89). From this point on the relationship becomes one of sexual interplay, as the initial reversal of traditional sexual roles, with Cora clearly acting as dominatrix, gradually changes as Pablo little by little assumes the dominating role.

Although the mother's presence in the hospital diminishes as Pablo's condition worsens and she is able to visit him only briefly, the confrontation between the two women is ever-present, precisely because of the sexual implications inherent in their relationship with Pablo. Thus, as Cora's initial irritation and antipathy towards “El nene de mamá” (92) gradually give way to a growing attraction for him, her opposition to the mother grows. Cortázar focuses our attention on the awareness of both women of Pablo's growing physical attributes: the mother leaves the room during the visit of the doctor De Luisi—“porque ya está grandecito” (90); and Cora's later comment echoing these words—“Ya sos un chico crecidito” (94)—is subsequently picked up by Pablo himself on page 95. Pablo's confused psychological state as he hovers on the brink of moving from the oedipal stage to that of the an adult male is clearly mirrored in turn by his confusion between Cora and his mother in his semi-conscious state when he is coming round from the anaesthetic after his operations. Thus we see that the situations of the two women have now been reversed and at this point it is Cora's turn to resent jealously the mother's role: “vieja estúpida. … Las conozco a éstas” (101).

Cortázar uses sexual symbolism throughout the story to accentuate the male/female relationships and physical attraction between the characters. Pablo, who takes it in his stride when an older nurse explains to him how temperatures are taken in hospital (90), is acutely embarrassed when Cora goes through the same procedure: “‘¿Te lo sabés poner?’, le pregunté, y las mejillas parecía que iban a reventársele de rojo que se puso” (92). Cora begins by regarding things in a rather worldly fashion: “pero con los chicos de esa edad siempre pasa lo mismo” (92). She tries to keeps the barrier between them, insisting he calls her “señorita Cora,” naïvely thinking that she will be safe if she keeps a symbolic distance. At this stage she is clearly in a role of dominance, again taking a symbolically active sexual role as she shaves Pablo in preparation for his operation: “Le tuve que bajar yo misma el pantalón hasta la mitad de los muslos” (93). Yet even now her attitude is complicating itself, and she too is affected, so that what should be routine nursing duties take on a deeper significance: “pero me seguía fastidiando algo en él que a lo mejor le venía de la madre, algo más fuerte que su edad y que no me gustaba, y hasta me molestaba que fuera tan bonito y tan bien hecho para sus años” (94).

All Pablo's senses are awakened when Cora washes and shaves him for the operation, and he reacts with a violence of emotion which reflects all his sexual attraction for her and consequent frustration at his impotence in having to submit to her domination: “y yo hubiera querido morirme, o agarrarla por la garganta y ahogarla … le vi el pelo castaño pegado a mi cara … y olía a shampoo de almendra” (94-95). His attempt to gain ground and establish a position of equality by addressing her on first name terms is quickly rejected: “‘¿Usted se llama Cora, verdad?’ Me miró con aire burlón, con esos ojos que ya me conocían y que me habían visto por todos lados, y dijo: ‘La señorita Cora’” (95). In spite of showing a moment of tenderness—“le pasé la mano por la mejilla. ‘No te aflijas, Pablito,’ le dije”—Cora is determined not to lose control of the situation, and her desire for domination is again stressed when, for a second time, she rejects Pablo's request to be allowed to call her by her first name: “‘Puedo llamarla Cora, ¿verdad?’ … pero sabía que no era el caso de ceder porque después me resultaría difícil dominarlo, y a un enfermo hay que dominarlo o es lo de siempre” (96). By this stage she is well aware of Pablo's nascent masculinity and his attraction for her: “Y sí, son siempre lo mismo, uno los acaricia, les dice una frase amable, y ahí nomás asoma el machito” (96). Their position is further exacerbated when Cora has to give him an enema—an action again with obvious sexual connotations, as his physical prostration and her dominance and control symbolise the reversal of usual sexual roles. Cora still tries to take this lightly, but her words belie this; a sense of triumph is now tinged with compassion: “por una parte me hacía gracia estarle viendo el culito a mi joven admirador, pero de nuevo me daba un poco de lástima por él, era realmente como si lo estuviera castigando” (98). Nevertheless, her continued use of diminutives is clearly a put-down to Pablo—“Así me gusta, todo un hombrecito” (98)—and when she leaves, Pablo's frustration breaks forth and we see his longing to assert his masculinity, illustrated here by the phallic imagery as he mentally plunges a knife into her chest: “nadie, nadie puede imaginarse lo que lloré mientras la maldecía y la insultaba y le clavaba un cuchillo en el pecho cinco, diez, veinte veces” (99).

It is after Pablo's operation that Cora's resistance breaks down, in spite of her efforts to maintain a nurse/patient relationship. As a female responding to both facets of Pablo's personality, she is aroused by both her own maternal instincts and her growing sexual attraction for her patient. Now, as he clasps her hand, there is a noted change in her terminology, filled with sympathy and affection: “Pero sí, m'hijito, estoy aquí. … Sí, querido. … Qué fuerza tenés en las manos, me vas a llenar de moretones” (100). In spite of his critical condition, we see that it is Pablo's strength which is now being stressed, as Cora comments favourably on his physical appearance: “Sos bien bonito, sabés, con esa nariz un poco respingada y esas pestañas como cortinas, parecés mayor ahora que estás tan pálido” (100).

Pablo's thoughts too show how their communication is growing: “casi no tuve que decirle nada, porque se dio cuenta en seguida” (102). Every time he takes over the dialogue, the physical attraction he feels is reaffirmed by sensuous and sexual imagery: “Tiene un pelo precioso, le brilla cuando mueve la cabeza. … Me gusta que me mire así” (103). Cora is still in a role of dominance, as we see from the description of her taking Pablo's temperature and giving him an injection, both episodes again having clear connotations of the male sexual role and recalling the enema episode mentioned earlier: “empezó a frotarme el muslo con un algodón mojado. … ‘Ya ves,’ me dijo sacando la aguja y frotándome con el algodón. ‘Ya ves que no duele nada. Nada tiene que doler, Pablito.’ … me pasó la mano por la cara” (104). But this time, as the act is repeated, the erotic connotations are clear, and Pablo's previous acute embarrassment is replaced by sexual arousal: “lo primero que le veo es siempre el pelo … el pelo cerca de mi cara, una vez me hizo cosquillas en la boca y huele tan bien … me frotó un largo rato antes de pincharme y yo le miraba la mano tan segura que iba apretando de a poco la jeringa” (106-107).⁶

From this point on Pablo begins to assert himself, and his masculinity starts to come to the fore: “Y no le voy a decir señorita Cora, no se lo voy a decir nunca. Le hablaré lo menos que pueda y no la pienso llamar señorita Cora, aunque me lo pida de rodillas” (107). As if in recognition of or submission to this, Cora allows him to take his own temperature for the first time. He then symbolically asserts himself by at last calling her Cora to her face: “Usted es mala conmigo, Cora” (110). This time Cora does not contradict him; rather, she immediately responds, although Pablo instinctively rejects her attempt at physical contact: “Casi sin darme cuenta estiré la mano y quise hacerle una caricia en la frente, pero me rechazó de un manotón” (110). When Pablo again asserts himself—“Usted no sería así conmigo si me hubiera conocido en otra parte”—Cora, despite her attempt to laugh it off, is at the same time deeply disturbed. She withdraws indignantly, and mentally resolves to go back to a strictly nurse/patient relationship: “En fin, ahora sabíamos a qué atenernos, en el fondo era mucho mejor así. Enfermera, enfermo, y pare de contar” (110). Yet, in spite of this, we see how she feels herself drawn to him and is reluctant to leave: “No sé por qué me quedé más de lo necesario … a lo mejor me quedé para que siguiera insultándome, para ver hasta dónde era capaz de llegar” (111).

Thus, as we draw towards the climax, Cora's stress manifests itself more and more. Whilst trying to make herself believe she wants a distance kept between them, at the same time she resents any form of rejection from Pablo or interference from anyone else, jealously noting the fact that he has been speaking to another nurse when he is so short with her: “sé que con la galleguita estuvo charlando a mediodía … y me dejó hacer sin una palabra, con los ojos fijos en la ventana, ignorándome” (113). As she becomes increasingly attracted to Pablo we also see a marked change in the nature of her relationship with her boyfriend, Marcial, and once again the theme of sexual role-play comes to the fore. At the start of the story Marcial is clearly presented as the dominant partner, not only because of his traditional male role of superiority, but also by dint of his age and position as her superior in the hospital. Initially Cora shares her derision for Pablo with Marcial: “Esto tengo que contárselo a Marcial, se va a divertir y cuando mañana lo vea en la mesa de operaciones le va a hacer todavía más gracia” (97). However, once she begins to feel physical attraction for Pablo her relationship with Marcial is inevitable affected. Her main interest turns to finding out what went wrong during Pablo's operation, and she begins to lose interest in her sexual relationship with Marcial. Thus we see that she resents his attempt to kiss her (101) and later, although she uses the excuse that someone may see them, she displays a similar attitude when she is at home with Marcial who says: “después fue a darle la inyección y cuando volvió estaba de mal humor, no quería saber nada conmigo” (105). Marcial is clearly perplexed: “Nunca entendí mucho a Cora pero esta vez se fue a la otra banda” (104). Although he succeeds in winning her round on this occasion—“de a poco se la fui cambiando, y al final se puso a reír y me contó …” (105)—so that she talks rationally to him about her problems, once she is back with Pablo the situation again reverses. Thus, as Pablo becomes the dominant partner in his relationship with Cora, Marcial progressively loses his own dominance and control over her. We see from insertions in the narrative that Marcial is still very much present in Cora's thoughts and that she continues to confide in him (111-12), but her tension and confused feelings are again shown as she resents any intrusion on his part between her and Pablo: “hubiera querido que Marcial se fuera y me dejara sola con él” (114). He becomes still more perplexed at Cora's angry reaction when he finally arranges at her previous request to have her relieved as Pablo's nurse: “Está bien, hacé como quieras, tanto quejarte la otra noche y ahora te sale la samaritana. No te enojés conmigo, lo hice por vos” (114-15). Effectively he has now lost Cora to Pablo, as we see from her subsequent interior monologue: “Sí, claro que lo hizo por mí, pero perdió el tiempo, me voy a quedar con él esta noche y todas las noches” (115).

From now on Pablo's condition deteriorates still further. Another operation has to be performed, and he slowly goes downhill. Nevertheless, as Pablo approaches death, it is he who holds the upper hand in the relationship, controlling Cora in precisely the same way as she previously did him, retaining his position of dominance by rejecting any attempt at a more familiar relationship.⁷ Thus their earlier roles are reversed as it is now he who insists on keeping a distance by using her full title: “‘Llámame Cora,’ le dije. … Me miraba callado. … ‘Señorita Cora,’ dijo después” (115). By the end of the story, Cora has finally admitted to her own feelings and no longer desires any barrier. It is clear that she has surrendered totally both to her own emotions and to him, and her position has moved from one of dominance to impotence as she is reduced to pleading: “‘No, Pablo, no’, le pedí, besándole en la mejilla muy cerca de la boca. Yo voy a ser Cora para vos, solamente para vos'” (115); “‘Pablito,’ le dije. ‘Por favor, Pablito. Por favor, querido.’ Volví hasta la cama, me agaché para besarlo” (116). Pablo, however, has learnt his lesson well and, as he deals back to Cora the same treatment which she initially gave him by refusing to yield to her pleas, we are reminded of the nurse's own earlier words: “sabía que no era el caso de ceder porque después me resultaría difícil dominarlo” (96). With his last words, “Me gustaría que viniera mamá” (116), Pablo has played his trump card by rejecting Cora and calling for his mother, and it is the mother who, at the last moment, gains the upper hand over the nurse as Pablo gives her presence preference over Cora's.

Thus, in both power relationships Cora ends up the loser and, by the end of the story, Pablo has moved from a position of impotence to one of dominance over both the female characters who previously had dominated him. It is now he who is controlling the actions of both his mother and Cora, and hence indirectly affecting the latter's relationship with Marcial. It is only Pablo's death which will put Marcial back in any position of control, as Cora's final thoughts show: “después sabía demasiado bien que no tendría ninguna necesidad de volver a ese cuarto, que Marcial y María Luisa se ocuparían de todo hasta que el cuarto quedara otra vez libre” (116), but we are left to assume that Pablo will continue to dominate the lives of the two female characters for a long time to come.

Notes

1. Alfred Mac Adam, for example, points out how works prior to Rayuela have been neglected: “Ocurre a veces que la prehistoria de un autor se pierde cuando publica la obra que lo lanza a la fama” (El individuo y el otro. Crítica a los cuentos de Julio Cortázar [Buenos Aires: La Librería, 1971] 11). Lorna V. Williams also notes that “Hay pocos estudios dedicados a los relatos de Cortázar” (La cuentística de Julio Cortázar: teoría y práctica [Michigan: Ann Arbor, 1985] 1), as does Carmen de Mora Valcárcel in her preface to Teoría y práctica del cuento en los relatos de Cortázar (Seville: Escuela de Estudios Hispano-americanos, 1982).

2. Julio Cortázar, “La señorita Cora,” in Todos los fuegos el fuego (Buenos Aires: Editorial Sudamericana, 1966). All references to “La señorita Cora” are from this edition.

3. Critics briefly mentioning Cortázar's use of multiple viewpoint include, for example, Anderson Imbert, who comments on the juxtaposition of the characters' different feelings towards each other (Teoría y técnica del cuento [Buenos Aires: Marymar, 1979] 89-90); María Cecilia Quintero Marín (La cuentística de Julio Cortázar [Madrid: Universidad Complutense, 1981] 237-41); and Alfred Mac Adam, who considers that “el cuento es más una meditación sobre las posibilidades narrativas que una obra de arte acabada” (136-37). Joaquín Roy, on the other hand, in his interesting study, Julio Cortázar ante su sociedad (Barcelona: Ediciones Península, 1974), in which he places Cortázar's work and characters specifically in an Argentinian context, sees Pablo's situation as an example of “la innata soledad de todo adolescente” (214), whilst Lorna V. Williams comments on the style and presence of the author (137-39).

4. Carmen de Mora Valcárcel, whilst categorizing “La señorita Cora” under the “componente ritual” of “erotismo” (88), does not elaborate, her main focus on the stories being on the fantastic and the short story as a literary genre. Antonio Planells, in his comprehensive and perspicacious study, Cortázar: Metafísica y Erotismo (Madrid: José Porrúa Turanzas, 1976) is the only critic to go into any detail on Cortázar's use of eroticism in “La señorita Cora” (107-10). However, he does not deal with the theme of sexual domination but rather sees the story as an illustration of the characters' inability to form loving relationships, and Pablo in particular as a product of the false society in which he lives.

5. This hostility and jealousy felt by the mother towards Cora no doubt are also exacerbated by the fact that her husband is not immune to Cora's attraction. Pablo notes in this regard: “Pensé que mamá iba a soltarle alguna de las suyas pero la miró nomás de arriba abajo, y papá también pero yo al viejo le conozco las miradas, es algo muy diferente” (92-93).

6. As well as creating an atmosphere of sensuality by giving erotic connotations to descriptions of seemingly routine acts, Cortázar also depicts the growing attraction between Pablo and Cora and the interchanges between the two through the conventional image of the pair of doves nesting in the patio outside the hospital, “un paloma que arrulla y la paloma que le contesta” (111), an image which is repeated on page 115. Planells says of this: “Las imágenes eróticas que forja la mente de Pablo (y que tienen como objeto amoroso a la señorita Cora), llegan a plasmar en la contemplación poética de un casal de palomas que se arrullan frente a la ventana de su habitación” (109).

7. Pablo's feigned indifference and deliberate rejection of Cora no doubt are due in no small measure to his being piqued by jealousy over Cora's relationship with Marcial. This relationship is clearly in his mind at the end of the story as we see from his mental dismissal of the pair when Marcial comes to tell him that a second operation is necessary: “Váyase con él y béselo en el pasillo, tan dormido no estaba la otra tarde cuando usted se enojó con él porque la había besado aquí. Váyanse los dos, déjenme dormir” (114).