SOURCE: Ullman, Pierre L. “Larra's Preparliamentary Articles.” In Mariano de Larra and Spanish Political Rhetoric, pp. 65-100. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1971.

[In the following excerpt, Ullman maintains that as censorship was relaxed at the end of 1834, Larra's political criticism, often embedded within theatrical reviews, grew more strident.]

The preceding chapter dealt with the political situation from Ferdinand's death to the opening of Cortes. Now we shall turn to Larra's production during this period. An immediate question in that respect is whether, as some scholars have felt, Figaro's writings betray a gradual disillusionment with Martínez. It seems to me that a thorough examination of the essays, with adequate knowledge of historical sources, would obviate such a conclusion. An increase in the essays' evident animosity should be attributed not so much to growing disillusionment as to a probable relaxation of censorship in the latter half of 1834. Yet this is only a hypothesis, because no one has studied the fluctuation of censorial severity during that year. Nevertheless, there is evidence of such a relaxation. A new censorship regulation did go into effect on July 1, 1834, and we can assume that it was a step toward freedom. It could be argued, of course, that the interpretation and application of the law in such cases is more significant than the law itself; and no study of the practical application of censorship exists. Moreover, the information necessary for this sort of work would be well-nigh impossible to gather, not to speak of a reasonable doubt that the pertinent data are even extant.

Yet, after an examination of all the relevant materials, Larra's stance does give the appearance of constant and systematic opposition to Martínez de la Rosa, espousal of the Progressive cause, and perhaps even sympathy with the Sociedad Isabelina. Julio Nombela y Campos reached a similar conclusion:

Fue aquélla una campaña en toda regla, que hace época en los anales de nuestro periodismo, porque Fígaro echó mano de todos los recursos de su fértil ingenio para combatir sin tregua ni cuartel al autor del Estatuto real.¹

(It was indeed a campaign in due form, the kind that opens a new era in the annals of our journalism, because Larra availed himself of all the resources of his inventive wit to combat without truce or quarter against the author of the Estatuto Real.)

We may have reservations about some further statements of Nombela's however:

Se adhirió a la opinión liberal, que juzgaba nefasta la continuación en el poder de Martínez de la Rosa; pero sin llegar a ser un verdadero hombre de partido, sin avenirse a sacrificar su carácter independiente, sin aceptar una disciplina, que repugnaba a su esquiva naturaleza.²

(He became an adherent of liberal opinion, which deemed Martínez de la Rosa's continuance in power to be ominous; but without becoming a real party man, without allowing himself to sacrifice his independent character, without accepting a discipline, which would have gone against his elusive nature.)

In the first place, had he written “progresista” instead of “liberal,” Nombela would have been more accurate and just; the Moderates, after all, were also Liberals. Then the assertion concerning Larra's political independence smacks of sentimentality. Who can prove that the journalist was not a party man? All this shows, in short, that extreme care must be taken not to reach a hasty conclusion.

Larra's first essay after Ferdinand's death is “Varios caracteres” (October 13, 1833), where the customary pose of disinterested observer adopted by typical costumbristas is exaggerated into bitter indifference. It is quite possible that this literary stance reflects the uncooperative position of the Liberals mentioned in the last chapter. What will later underlie the very structure of “El hombre menguado” (October 27) is now only an insinuation:

Cualquiera me conocerá en estos días en que el fastido se apodera de mi alma, y en que no hay cosa que tenga a mis ojos color, y menos color agradable. En estos días llevo cara de filósofo, es decir, de mal humor; una sonrisa amarga de indiferencia y despego a cuanto veo se dibuja en mis labios …

(1: 290)

(Anyone can recognize me nowadays when ennui dominates my soul, when nothing appears to my eyes as having color, and least of all an agreeable color. I go around looking like a philosopher; in other words, in a bad humor. A bitter smile of indifference and detachment from everything I gaze upon is drawn on my lips …)

On October 18, however, Figaro turns to banter in his anti-Carlist “Nadie pase sin hablar al portero.” After “Los amigos” (October 20), a simple adaptation of Etienne-Antoine Jouy, he publishes “El hombre menguado,” which masterfully combines anti-Carlism with indifference to the Zea régime. It reveals a studied nonchalance about the proclamation ceremonies and a skeptical attitude toward the “entusiasmo popular.” The narrator has not dressed in keeping with the glorious occasion. On the contrary, “por hablar a estas gentes [Carlists] aquel día, y explorar su parecer sin miedo de parecerles sospechoso, púseme una capa vieja y un viejísimo sombrero” (1: 302—“in order to speak to those people that day, and search out their opinions without fear of appearing suspicious, I put on an old cape and a very old hat”). Figaro is more interested in cajoling the Carlist than in cheering Isabel II. Not that he is against the latter, but the circumstances are such that the attitude of a disinterested observer (viz., a costumbrista) in this case suits him politically. He poses as the mere spectator of a popular celebration, since the people he depicts cheering the new queen are not men of social stature but “las gentes”:

En esto venía ya andando hacia nosotros la proclamación, y gritaban las gentes por delante: “¡viva Isabel II!”

—¡Qué dice usted a esto, amigo?—le pregunté.

—No oigo nada, caballero. Y si acaso oigo, que no estoy seguro, ¡gente pagada!

—Por supuesto—dije yo para mí—los de Merino³ no es gente pagada, porque donde hay dinero se cobran ellos …

(1: 303)

(At this point the proclamation began to come close, and the folk in front were shouting, “Long live Isabel II!”

—What do you have to say about this, my friend?—I asked him.

—Sir, I don't hear a thing. And if by chance I do, and I'm not even sure about that, I'll tell you what: they're paid to do it!

—Of course,—I said to myself—Merino's raiders aren't paid, because where they find money they collect it on their own …)

As we can see, the accusation “¡gente pagada!” is not refuted; it is merely offset by an ironic tu quoque. Moreover, a few lines further the “turba entusiasmada” is shown grasping for coins thrown to them, a note which implies a corroboration of the Carlist's assertion. There is also a hint of inducement in the use of “entusiasmada” rather than “entusiasta.” As for Figaro, far from being ecstatic, he stands aloof like many other liberals. And when the proclamation passes by, it is not Isabel II who absorbs his thoughts but the ridiculous appearance of the Carlist, at whom he laughs hilariously. “El hombre menguado” is a tour-de-force. The anti-Carlism, from a structural point of view, may be considered the main theme of the essay. Nevertheless, it is also a device to obviate the censorship of another political message, since it allows the author to imply his detachment from the event, thereby insinuating that the new queen has the support only of the unreliable and impressionable masses, not of the dedicated liberal intelligentsia.

Another anti-Carlist satire appeared on November 10, “La planta nueva o el faccioso,” whose technique of botanical similes would be used again by Larra in “El hombre pone y Dios dispone” (April 4, 1834) and in “El ministerial” (September 16, 1834), along with zoological similes. In “La junta de Castel-o-Branco,” published on November 19, Figaro portrays the pretender almost alone and bereft of followers. This may have made efficient propaganda at the time, but it was false. The same can be said of “El fin de la fiesta” (December 1). The other articles printed during the last days of the Zea régime are theatrical reviews, except for two. “Las circunstancias” (December 15, 1833) is the first sign of our author's concern with the government-employees problem, which will be taken up in chapter 9 of this book. “La educación de entonces” (January 5, 1834) pokes fun at old-fashioned moralists.

Among the essays published during Martínez de la Rosa's ministry there are several significant passages that will be examined in detail. We should also note some others, which seem to deal with social issues but have no direct bearing on politics, though they may in places appear to do so. Of this type are Larra's complaints of the crowds flocking to the masked balls organized in January:

porque saber de dónde venían las más [máscaras] que en el teatro, en la citada noche se vieron, ni es tan fácil como parece ni nos ofrecería acaso un origen tan limpio y de tan preclara nobleza, puesto que la nobleza no es más que la antigüedad. … Para pintar las tres cuartas partes de la concurrencia, bástanos decir que necesitaríamos el pincel de Murillo con toda la verdad que ostenta en el cuadro de Santa Isabel. Bastará decir que las pocas señoras que asistieron, que las pocas elegantes que en aquel día se hallaron, engañadas sin duda, ni pudieron bailar ni osaron descubrirse; que vimos infinitas mujeres sin guantes … Ese fue el baile y ésa la concurrencia; nosotros, que en materia de sociedad somos enteramente aristocráticos, y que dejamos la igualdad de los hombres para la otra vida, porque en ésta no la vemos tan clara como la quieren suponer …

(1: 334-336)

(because knowing where most masks seen in the theater that night came from is not as easy as it appears. It might not necessarily show us a limpid origin, or of eminent nobility, since nobility is nothing more than antiquity. … In order to paint three quarters of those present, suffice it to say that we should need Murillo's brush with all the realism it displays in the picture of Saint Elizabeth. Suffice it to say that the few ladies who were present, the few elegant women who came, undoubtedly deceived, could not dance and did not dare to reveal themselves; that we saw innumerable women without gloves … So that was the ball and the crowd. We who are, with respect to society, entirely aristocratic, and who leave equality of mankind for the other life, because in this one we cannot see it quite as clearly as some would suppose …)

Such passages should not be used to demonstrate political conservatism on Larra's part. On the contrary, a pseudoaristocratic attitude and superciliousness in manners and refinement was quite consistent with liberalism. Those who objected to the rustic customs of the average Spaniard, those who yearned after urbanity, were often accused of afrancesamiento. During the Triennium, for example, the Duke of Rivas, a well-known liberal, formed a political circle noted for its aristocratic and refined deportment.⁴ On the other hand, the tyrannical Ferdinand VII is notorious for his vulgarity and his humiliation of the aristocracy.⁵ The polish of the liberals contrasted with the crass plebeianism of the tyrannophiles.⁶ The meaning of the word “society” in an article on masked balls is thus quite different from that in “Los barateros” (April 19, 1836), for example. Larra probably shared the attitude expressed by José Cadalso in the seventh of the Cartas marruecas, as well as a belief in the aristocracy of talent.⁷ Consequently, it can be said of these accounts that their primary value consists in the vocabulary and metaphorical setting that masked balls provide for political satire, as in “Los tres no son más que dos y el que no es nada vale por tres—mascarada política” (February 18, 1834).

On January 24, 1834, Larra wrote a review of a Scribe play, Julia, which he had himself translated anonymously. The review's only political note is an allusion using the “pregnant vehicle” trope. While pointing out that Scribe's work is based almost entirely on stock characters and situations, Larra explains ironically that

no hay nada más parecido a un hombre que otro hombre, nada más semejante a un pueblo que otro pueblo, nada más parecido a un parte oficial que otro parte oficial, nada, en fin, más semejante a una comedia que otra comedia. El tipo general es uno, y la verdad primitiva de las cosas una; lo que llamamos novedades son pequeñísimas modificaciones de ellas, y si se especula con esas modificaciones es porque felizmente no suele el vulgo profundizar y buscar debajo de las superficies exteriores el principio general de todas. Póngase usted sobre una sola cara cien caretas diferentes, mil si usted quiere, hasta el infinito, y especule usted con la pública seguridad bien seguro que nadie ha de arrancarle una sola de ellas para verle la cara verdadera.

(1: 338)

(nothing resembles one man more than another man, one people more than another people, one official communiqué more than another official communiqué, and, lastly, one comedy more than another comedy. The general type is one, and the primary truth of things is one. What we call innovations are their tiny modifications, and if these modifications are speculated about, it is because fortunately the common herd is not given to fathoming and searching below the exterior surfaces the general principle of them all. Put on one face a hundred different masks, if you wish a thousand, or ad infinitum, and you can speculate with public security quite sure and secure that no one is going to rip off a single one of them to look at your real face.)

The mention of “parte oficial” brings to mind the government issuing it and therefore hints at the application of the next sentence to slowness at reforms and to the possibility that with Martínez liberalism is but a mask. The latter figure is fully developed a few days later in the “mascarada política” (1: 347).

Two days after the review of Julia, Figaro wrote another theatrical article, “Primera representación de la comedia refundida y puesta en cuatro actos titulada Juez y reo de su causa o Don Jaime el Justiciero” (January 26, 1834). Here we witness once more the playful conjunction of the politics of the theater and the theatricality of politics:

Mucho tiempo hace que dimos en la Revista a nuestros lectores una idea exacta de lo que ha solido entenderse en nuestro teatro por refundición de comedias. De entonces acá hemos adelantado mucho en el país en materia de refundiciones, a Dios Gracias; pero según las muestras, el teatro es el único que se queda hasta ahora rezagado. ¿Será más difícil refundir un teatro que una nación? Tentados estamos de creer que sí.

(1: 340)

(A long time ago we gave our readers in La Revista a precise idea of what in our national theater has been understood by the term rifacimento. Since then the country has progressed considerably with respect to rifacimenti, by the Grace of God. But, as we can see from the samples, only the theater now finds itself at the rear. Could it be more difficult to recast a theater than a nation? We are tempted to believe so.)

The discourse on theatrical adaptation mentioned above is found in his review of a rifacimento of Agustín Moreto's A cada paso un acaso (May 10, 1833):

Preguntaríamos a estos arrimones literarios que refunden trabajos ajenos, si quieren hacer las comedias de Moreto, Tirso, etcétera, o si quieren hacer las suyas. … Si refundir es hacer bajar y subir los telones en otros pasajes de la acción diversos de aquellos en que Moreto creyó subdividir su intriga; si consiste en añadir algunas trivialidades a las que desgraciadamente puede encerrar el original, haciendo desaparecer de paso algunas de sus bellezas; si consiste en decir cinco actos en vez de tres jornadas; si estriba en estropear la versificación haciendo consonar trato con cinco y cuarto, entonces esta refundición es de las más completas que en estos teatros hemos visto …

(1: 224)

(We ought to ask these sponges of literature who recast the works of others, whether they want to write the comedies of Moreto, Tirso, and so forth, or their own. … If recasting means making the curtains go up and down at passages of the action different from those where Moreto thought of subdividing his plot; if it consists in adding some trivialities to those which the original might unfortunately include, removing in the process some of its beauty; if it consists in saying five acts instead of three “jornadas”; if it depends on damaging the prosody by having trato rhyme with cinco y cuarto in consonance, then this rifacimento is one of the most complete ever seen on these boards …)

We can deduce then that Larra did not think much of rifacimenti; his allusion on January 26 to political change in such terms must be burlesque, and “hemos adelantado mucho” cannot refer to the type of progress he felt to be desirable.

In “Representación de La mojigata” (February 2) the journalist calls attention to the relation between political freedom and the development of the arts. Since La mojigata had been forbidden for several years, there was apparently reason to be thankful, in all fairness, to the new government for allowing its production. Yet the more we examine the passage, the more its subtle ambiguity becomes evident:

Al verla representar de nuevo en el día, no sabemos si sea más de alabar la ilustrada providencia de un Gobierno reparador que la ofrece de nuevo a la pública expectación, que de admirar la crasa ignorancia que la envolvió por tantos años en la ruina de una causa momentáneamente caída.

(1: 341)

(Seeing it performed again nowdays, we are at a loss to know whether we should praise the enlightened providence of a restoring Government which offers it anew to public expectancy, more than we should wonder at the crass ignorance that implicated it for so many years in the ruin of a suddenly fallen cause.)

The government, by permitting the performance, is being provident; its enlightenment is outstanding, but it is only relatively so, in contrast to the previous obscurantism. After all, the public has been awaiting this permission eagerly, almost expecting it as a matter of course. Larra hints, moreover, that the cause of freedom had only lost ground temporarily, thus implying that in order to keep pace with the now irrevocable course of public sentiment, Martínez would have to make more concessions. And in the previous paragraph Larra does caution the government about the risk of losing public support:

Sólo un Gobierno fuerte y apoyado en la pública opinión puede arrostrar la verdad, y aun buscarla: inseparable compañero de ella, no teme la expresión de las ideas, porque indaga las mejores y las más sanas para cimentar sobre ellas su poder indestructible.

(1: 341)

(Only a strong government, supported by public opinion, can face the truth, and even seek it. Since truth is its inseparable companion, it does not fear the expression of ideas because it investigates the best and soundest in order to base on them its indestructible power.)

Next comes the first patently anti-Martínez essay, “Los tres no son más que dos, y el que no es nada vale por tres—mascarada política,” published in La Revista Española on February 18. As Nombela y Campos clearly demonstrates, all the political articles from this time until the author's departure in March 1835 were aimed specifically at the prime minister.⁸ Even the title of this first one implies that the political field has become polarized and that the government must choose sides. There are now two active parties, says Figaro, “blancos” and “negros,” neither of which he paints in glowing colors, though the latter is deemed preferable. There is also a third group, the majority, which is uncommitted and therefore worthless as a political force, or so reasons Larra. They appear to have a leader, but since they are not people of action, any attempt to direct them is futile:

Era el resto de la concurrencia la mayoría; pero se conservaba a cierta distancia del que parecía su jefe … Éstos no decían nada, ni aplaudían, ni censuraban; traían caretas de yeso, miraban a una comparsa, miraban a otra, y ora temblaban, y ora reían. En realidad no hacían cuenta con su jefe; éste era el que contaba con ellos; es decir, con su inercia.

(1: 348)

(The rest of the crowd was the majority, though it kept itself at a certain distance from the man it considered its leader … These people said nothing, neither did they applaud or censure. They wore plaster masks, looked at one masquerade retinue, then at the other. Now they trembled, now they laughed. In truth they did not reckon with their leader. He was the one who counted on them; that is, with their inertia.)

The leader, as Nombela clearly saw, is obviously Martínez, neither “blanco” nor “negro,” but “atornasolado claro” (“clear litmus”) (the latter adjective pointing to liberal tendencies).⁹ His followers seem to walk but are merely marking time, with “lead feet” (“pies … de plomo”). The leader himself is described: “de medio cuerpo arriba venía vestido a la antigua española, de medio cuerpo abajo a la moderna francesa, y en él no era disfraz, sino su traje propio y natural” (1: 348—“from the waist up he was dressed in the old Spanish manner, from the waist down in the modern French fashion, and on him it was not a disguise but his proper and natural clothing”). This personage refuses to judge; he only wants to reconcile. He shies away from strong language: the Carlists are not hypocrites, revolutionaries, and fanatics, as the leftist press calls them, but rather “seductores, … fautores de asonadas, … ilusos, incautos …—Señores, todos tienen ustedas razón; la unión, la cultura, un justo medio … ni uno ni otro … las dos cosas …” (1: 350—“deceivers, … abettors of riots … deluded gulls …—Gentlemen, you are right, all of you; union, culture, a just middle road … neither one nor the other … the two things …”). As for Figaro, he chaffs the Progressives as well as the other groups, but in the end states clearly that he is on the Progressive side: “—No hay para qué hablar más, que ya me habéis conocido—dije yo apresurándome a interrumpir a los míos, que me iban tratando peor que los contrarios” (1: 349—“—No point saying one thing more, since you have recognized me—I said, hastening to interrupt my own crowd, who were now treating me worse than my opponents”).

A few lines further down Larra portrays the figure we assume to be Martínez de la Rosa, holding aloft a copy of La Revista (1: 350). It is quite possible that the author adds this descriptive note to advise us indirectly that he stands to the left of the newspaper he writes for. Fortunately for Figaro, La Revista's attitude was one of loyal opposition rather than hostility. Those papers which did express hostility, El Siglo, El Universal, El Eco de la Opinión, and El Tiempo, were ultimately abolished.¹⁰

Larra's next essay is “El Siglo en blanco” (March 9, 1834), where the government is chided after having closed down a newspaper and jailed its editors, Antonio Ros de Olano, Ventura de la Vega, Isaac Núñez Arenas, and Espronceda.¹¹ It should be kept in mind that by printing (on March 7, 1834) a newspaper with blank columns bearing only titles, these young men were not violating any existing regulation, except that technically they did break a law by not submitting the titles themselves to the censor. It was not until June 1 that a censorship regulation applying specifically to newspapers was issued, and it contained one article designed to avoid the recurrence of such an incident:

Art. 16. Los prospectos se sujetarán a censura, y los periódicos no podrán publicarse con ninguna parte de sus columnas en blanco. Los editores de los periódicos en que por este medio, el de líneas de puntos o cualquiera otro semejante se indique la supresión de artículos presentados a la censura, pagarán por primera vez una multa de 2.000 rs., de 4.000 reales por la segunda, y a la tercera vez serán suprimidos los periódicos.¹²

(Art. 16. Prospectuses will be subject to censorship, and newspapers shall not be published with any parts of their columns blank. The editors of newspapers in which the suppression of articles submitted to censorship is indicated by this means, or that of lines of dots, or any other, will pay for the first time a fine of 2000 reales, the second time 4000 reales; the third time the newspapers will be suppressed.)

The only guide at the time of the Siglo affair was the general “Reglamento de Imprentas” drafted by Javier de Burgos and decreed on January 4 during the Zea régime, whose Article 7 states that

se declaran … sujetas a previa censura … todas las obras, folletos y papeles que versan sobre moral, política y gobierno, abrazando esta palabra cuanto tenga relación directa o inmediata con nuestra legislación.¹³

(all works, pamphlets, and papers which treat of morals, politics, and governments—the latter word including anything having direct or immediate relation to our laws—are declared subject to censorship.)

What probably occurred was that Espronceda, after several issues had undergone heavy censorship, proposed a number bearing titles only, and without asking the authorities for permission.¹⁴ Larra's comments about the affair are extremely clever. His essay begins with a pseudophilosophical prolegomenon, a type used again in “El ministerial.” He then states that a blank article can mean all things to all men, and thereupon relates the blankness to Martínez's empty pronouncements:

Un artículo en blanco es además picante, porque excita la curiosidad hasta un punto difícil de pintar … Este sistema de hacer gozar haciendo esperar, del cual pudiéramos citar en el día algún sectario famoso …

(1: 353)

(A blank article is rather sharp, since it excites the taste for curiosity to a point difficult to describe … This system of giving delight through expectation, of which we might mention in our day a famous partisan …)

Larra thus hints ironically that Espronceda and his friends were following the government's example, heeding, by means of the blank columns, a precept likewise embodied in the vacuity of official verbiage. Figaro therefore amuses us by implying that El Siglo emulates the government. Yet this piece of irony ultimately reflects Larra's deepest conviction: freedom of speech and of the press are fundamental principles from which all else in politics emanates, a virtual concept by the light of which all verbal manifestations of the political scene find themselves reflected in each other. Viewed thus, in a seemingly unwitting Neoplatonic context, the irony may reveal an ultimate truth in Figaro's statement that El Siglo is a “periódico enteramente platónico,” in the sense that during the Ominous Decade

nos sucedía precisamente lo mismo que en la cátedra de Platón, a saber, que sólo hablaba el maestro, y eso para enseñar a callar a los demás, y perdónenos el filósofo griego la comparación.

(1: 352-353)

(the same thing happened to us as in Plato's class, to wit, that only the master spoke, and moreover for the purpose of teaching the others to keep quiet—may the Greek philosopher pardon the comparison!)

After “Ventajas de las cosas a medio hacer” (March 16), an ironic essay without reference to any special event, we proceed to the review of Hernán Pérez del Pulgar (March 30), a book published by the prime minister in March of 1834. On examining the circumstances under which Larra wrote the article, I have come to believe that his mordacity in this instance was probably exacerbated by Antonio María Segovia. Segovia also reviewed Martínez's book but, unlike Larra, he extolled it. Moreover, in searching for a foil, he seems to have made derogatory insinuations about Larra's El Doncel de don Enrique el Doliente (3: 5-205). Evidence still points to the probability that Larra's review was published after Segovia's, who, according to Tarr, “never lost an opportunity to take an underhand fling at Figaro.”¹⁵ The first volume of Larra's only novel came off the presses on January 23, 1834, the second on February 13, the third on March 16, and the fourth on March 29. The prime minister's book also appeared about this time, so that there was bound to be a comparison of the two. Segovia's eulogy of Hernán Pérez in the columns of La Abeja, the unofficially ministerialist paper, not only compares quixotically Spain's glorious past to its miserable present, but also reveals a no less quixotic preference for archaic language over the “degenerate” modern idiom:

El lenguaje es puro y castizo: esto no había que decirlo, pero sí hay que añadir la observación de que el autor convencido sin duda de que aquellas esclarecidas hazañas no merecen ser tratadas en el habla de los castellanos degenerados, se retira todo lo posible, y tomando en edad menos remota y discordante de su objeto la lengua hermosísima de nuestros padres, la maneja de un modo incomparable, y descubre su gala y lozanía toda, consintiendo más bien tal o cual arcaísmo que el uso de las palabras nuevas que pudieran manchar su escrito lastimosamente.¹⁶

(Its language is pure and correct; this goes without saying. But one needs to add the observation that the author, no doubt convinced that those resplendent deeds do not deserve to be painted in the tongue of the degenerate Castilians, recedes as much as possible; and taking from an age less remote and discordant from its object the beautiful language of our fathers, handles it in an incomparable manner and displays all its grace and freshness, allowing himself the use of an archaism here and there rather than new words that might sadly taint his writings.)

Segovia, in praising the prime minister's book, shows, moreover, his disapproval of historical novels, and for moral reasons. It is likely that he had in mind El Doncel, where the figure of Macías, enamored of a married woman, is more tragic than exemplary, as opposed to Pulgar, an epic hero:

Pero este retrato histórico de Hernando del Pulgar, en nada se parece a esas novelas históricas, género monstruo resucitado, si no creado, por algunos ingenios que en él malgastan sus bellísimas y acreditadas disposiciones. Con sus libros fatales dañan a la historia, porque adulterando los hechos y delineando retratos caprichosos de personas, y cuadros ideales de costumbres, forman en las cabezas ignorantes un caos, una confusión de ideas que difícilmente podrán ya desembrollar. Dañan a la literatura, porque ni sus composiciones son verdaderas novelas, ni poemas, ni aun tienen la pureza de lenguaje y elegancia de estilo que resplandecen en el Amadís de Gaula. Dañan también a las costumbres, porque no son los que presentan a la juventud modelos dignos de imitarse, ni jamás por el carácter falso de uno de sus héroes, podrán formarse otros que alcancen eterna fama para sí, para su edad y para su patria.¹⁷

(But this historical portrait of Hernando del Pulgar does not resemble in the least those historical novels, a monstrous genre revived, if not created, by a few wits who waste on it the aptitude for which they have acquired such a fine reputation. With their baleful books they harm history, because, by adulterating the facts and drawing whimsical portraits of personages, and by painting idealized customs, they form in ignorant minds a chaos, a confusion of ideas which the latter will indeed find difficult to unravel. They harm literature, because their compositions are not true novels, nor poems, nor even have the purity of language and elegance of style that shine forth in Amadís of Gaul. They also do harm to customs, because they are not of the kind that offers to youth models worthy of imitation. Whoever would attain eternal fame for his age and his country could never fashion himself after the false character of one of their heroes.)

Now, on reading Larra's review after Segovia's, we shall find that everything Segovia praises Figaro condemns:

No faltará quien llame la obra entera un arcaísmo; no faltará quien crea, acaso con razón, que se descubre el artificio que en tal escrupuloso remedo ha debido emplear su autor; nosotros nos limitaremos [typical Larra paralipsis] a indicar que, a nuestro débil entender, las lenguas siguen la marcha de los progresos y de las ideas.

(1: 359)

(Undoubtedly somebody will call the whole work an archaism; there will always be someone who believes, perhaps rightly, that the artifice which the author must have used in such a scrupulous imitation is too patent. As for us, we shall limit ourselves to indicating that, in our faint understanding, languages follow the march of progress and ideas.)

It should be rather evident that Figaro agrees with “quien crea, acaso con razón”; and he is probably justified in doing so. Was it necessary for Martínez in the year 1834 to use an archaism like “della”?¹⁸ And what of the jejune tautological simile, “las oleadas de gente semejaban a las del mar”¹⁹ (“the waves of people resembled those of the sea”)? But let us return to Segovia, who now praises the book's documentation:

Comenzó a hallar el señor Martínez de la Rosa monumentos preciosos y auténticos, que con los rebuscados en otros archivos, secretarías, bibliotecas y academias, forman por apéndice de la obra pruebas irrecusables de su narración. Así, con el convencimiento de la verdad de los hechos, encuentra el corazón tal deleite …²⁰

(Mr. Martínez de la Rosa began to find precious and authentic documents which, along with those sought out in other archives, offices, libraries, and academies, constitute as an appendix to his work irrefutable proofs of his narration. Thus, convinced of the truth of these facts, the heart finds such delight …)

Larra, on the contrary, expresses his contempt for all of this in a delicately mordacious antithetical conclusion:

Por lo demás, échase bien de ver cuánta sea la erudición del señor Martínez al advertir que llenan dos terceras partes del tomo las notas y apéndices con que ha creído deber autorizar las increíbles hazañas de Pulgar.

(1: 359)

(Furthermore, the erudition of Mr. Martínez de la Rosa becomes evident indeed when we notice that two thirds of the volume is filled by the notes and appendices with which he has believed it necessary to authenticate the unbelievable deeds of Pulgar.)

And where Segovia says, “¡Ah! ¿Por qué no han logrado todos los castellanos ilustres un Plutarco como el señor Martínez de la Rosa?”²¹ (“Ah! Why is it that all illustrious Castilians have not enjoyed a Plutarch such as Mr. Martínez de la Rosa?”), Figaro observes mischievously:

No luce en él la enérgica concisión de Tácito, ni la profunda filosofía de Plutarco; pero puede rivalizar su estilo con lo mejor de nuestro siglo de oro. Tan cierta es esta proposición, que al leer Hernán Pérez del Pulgar hemos creído más de una vez tener entre manos un libro desenterrado de aquella época.

(1: 359)

(The vigorous conciseness of Tacitus does not shine in him, nor the profound philosophy of Plutarch, but his style can rival with the best of our Golden Age. This assertion is indeed so true, that on reading Hernán Pérez del Pulgar we felt more than once that we were holding in our hands a book disinterred from that epoch.)

The above passage is a typical slice of Larra's review, embodying as it does the passage's main satirical device. The essay is, first of all, an expertly conceived anticlimax containing subsidiary anticlimaxes. The main anticlimax occurs with respect to literary matters only, and begins with the words “quisiéramos tributar nuestra alabanza y respeto” (1: 359—“we should like to render our praise and respect”), where “quisiéramos” seems to imply the inhibition of a complaisant gesture. Simultaneously, however, there is a climax, but with respect to political matters, as an attack on Martínez's régime gradually develops. The attack is quite subtle. For instance, when he writes “aquella misma Granada, de él tan querida y privilegiada”²² (“that very Granada, by him so beloved and privileged”), Figaro may be alluding to political favoritism. Likewise, he points out “aquellas reflexiones políticas o morales que suelen nacer tan naturalmente a veces de la misma relación de los hechos bajo la pluma del historiador” (1: 359—“those political or moral reflexions that at times are wont to arise so naturally from the very relation of facts under the historian's pen”). From the ironic “naturalmente” we can infer the book's tendentiousness. It cannot be denied that Martínez de la Rosa betrays a quixotic tendency to draw parallels between his own times and the past. Here are some typical passages from his book:

Había nacido Hernando del Pulgar en tan buena sazón y coyuntura, que le duraba, al llegar a la edad viril, el horror que despertaran en su ánimo las revueltas y discordias civiles, cuando exhaustos los pueblos, desmandados los nobles, el trono mal seguro, se desgarraba el reino con sus propias manos; y al mismo tiempo en que se miró huérfano, dueño de mediana fortuna y cabecera de su ilustre casa, vio Pulgar que se iba despejando el cielo de Castilla, y que las prendas y virtudes de la Reina Doña Isabel presagiaban largos días de prosperidad y de gloria. Anublóse no obstante la común alegría, cuando apenas estaba en el solio aquella esclarecida princesa; se amontonaron en derredor tantas y tan recias tormentas, hasta el punto de renacer en la propia tierra antiguas parcialidades y bandos, de traspasar huestes extrañas los opuestos confines del reino, y de disputarse la corona a punta de lanza en el mismo corazón de Castilla.

Entonces fue cuando por primera vez salió Hernando del Pulgar a probar en el campo sus armas; y con tan buen éxito hubo de hacerlo, que sin más recomendaciones que su espada, y cuando apenas entre tanta muchedumbre de guerreros se distinguían los capitanes más esforzados, logró un simple escudero llamar la atención de los Reyes, que fáciles y prontos a galardonar el merecimiento, le nombraron continuo de su casa. …

¡Días de ventura y gloria, eternos en los fastos de España: cuando en el mismo campo de batalla, a la vista de tantos héroes, un poderoso Príncipe recompensaba una victoria con el solo título de caballero! Hoy se mendiga, si no es que se compra. …

En los miserables tiempos que alcanzamos, apocados los ánimos y enmohecidos con el vil interés, casi miramos con sonrisa de lástima la extraña demanda de Pulgar, cual si ya frisara en locura; pero en aquella era de gloria y de heroísmo, se creían los españoles, como los antiguos romanos, destinados al imperio del mundo.²³

(Hernando del Pulgar was born at such an opportune juncture in history that, on reaching manhood, he could not put in oblivion the horror that civil discords and revolts had awakened in his mind when the kingdom, torn apart by its own forces, revealed a people exhausted, a nobility disobeying its monarch, and a throne insecure. And just when he found himself orphaned, lord of no mean estate and head of his illustrious house, he saw that the skies of Castilla were beginning to clear, and that the qualities and virtues of Queen Isabel foretold long days of prosperity and glory. Nevertheless, hardly had this eminent princess mounted the throne than the common felicity was again beclouded. Many a severe storm accumulated over Spain, to the point that the old factions and bands were reborn in the land, hostile armies crossed the kingdom from one end to the other, and the crown was disputed at the point of the lance in the very heart of Castille.

It was then that for the first time Hernando del Pulgar came forth to test his arms in the field; and he must have carried it out so successfully that, though only a simple squire, with only his sword as a recommendation, and among such a multitude of warriors that the bravest captains could hardly be made out, he managed to catch the attention of the Monarchs, who, eager and prompt to reward merit, named him yeoman of the household. …

Days of fortune and glory, eternal in the annals of Spain, when on the field of battle itself, in the sight of so many heroes, a powerful Prince recompensed a victory with the mere title of knight! Nowadays it is begged, if not bought. …

In the miserable times that we have come upon, when the will is attenuated and corroded by vile interest, we almost look with a smile of pity upon the strange request of Pulgar, as if it came just too close to insanity. But in that era of glory and heroism, Spaniards, like the ancient Romans, believed themselves destined to rule the world.)

Is it any wonder that the final remark in Figaro's review should be:

Aut agere scribenda, aut legenda scribere, decía un célebre romano: o hacer cosas dignas de ser escritas, o escribir cosas dignas de ser leídas. Ya que no podemos ser Hernando del Pulgar, quisiéramos ser su historiador.

(1: 359)

(A famous Roman said either do things worthy of being written down, or write things worthy of being read. Since we can't be Hernando del Pulgar, we should like to be his historian.)

It is noteworthy that Larra's El Doncel de don Enrique el Doliente also contains comparisons between the past and the present. In Figaro's work, however, an ambiguous resemblance of the two eras is ironically insinuated:

Tiempos felices, o infelices, en que ni la hermosura de las poblaciones, ni la fácil communicación entre los hombres de apartados países, ni la seguridad individual que en el día casi nos garantizan nuestras ilustradas legislaciones …

(3: 7)

(Happy or unhappy times, when neither the beauty of cities, nor easy communication between men of faraway lands, nor the individual security which nowadays our enlightened legislations almost guarantee …)

Of course, Larra was describing an earlier period than Martínez. Yet, where both authors explored the past, they found different ambiences therein.

All of this brings us back to the question of the Medieval Revival, the interest in the Middle Ages that comprised an important facet of the Romantic ethos. In Martínez's case, such interest may have originated in part from the need to find precedents for parliamentary institutions. Nevertheless, for most Romantics it has a profound significance, consisting in a vague notion that there existed an affinity between the two epochs. But beyond this Larra and Martínez diverge radically. The latter extols the hero who brings the Middle Ages to an end by defeating with medieval ardor a supposedly foreign enemy for the benefit of a nationalistic ideal. Figaro, on the other hand, discusses ironically the dissimilarity of the two periods, thus implying the tragic resemblance of their internal dissensions. He asks the reader of El Doncel to imagine himself transported

a siglos remotos, para vivir, digámoslo así, en otro orden de sociedad en nada semejante a este que en el siglo XIX marca la adelantada civilización de la culta Europa

(3: 7),

(to remote centuries, to live, so to speak, in another order of society not resembling in the least this one which is marked in the nineteenth century by the advanced civilization of educated Europe),

in which “la seguridad individual que en el día casi nos garantizan nuestras ilustradas legislaciones” was inexistent. Casi is almost always ironic with Figaro. In another passage, also from chapter 1, there is obvious irony in the use of the words “milagro” and “extremadas”:

Nuestra nación, como las demás de Europa, no presentaba a la perspicacia del observador sino un caos confuso, un choque no interrumpido de elementos heterogéneos que tendían a equilibrarse, pero que por la ausencia prolongada de un poder superior que los amalgamase y ordenase, completando el gran milagro de la civilización, se encontraban con extraña violencia en un vasto campo de disensiones civiles, de guerras exteriores, de rencillas, de desafíos, y a veces de crímenes, que con nuestras extremadas instituciones mal en la actualidad se conformarían.

(3: 7)

(Our nation, like the rest of Europe, presented to the perspicacity of the observer only a confusing chaos, an uninterrupted clash of heterogeneous elements that tended to balance each other, but which, owing to the prolonged absence of a superior power that might amalgamate and put them in order, thus completing the great miracle of civilization, found themselves violently thrust in a vast field of civil dissensions, foreign wars, feuds, duels, and sometimes crimes, which at the present would hardly conform to our consummately good institutions.)

The Romantic Larra presents an analogy of tragic disorder, curable only by disbelieved miracle, whereas Martínez the romantic, the spinner of romances, attempts to demonstrate the plausibility of the miracle. Of the two, it is Larra who best reflects the intellectual atmosphere, as evidenced by memoirs of the period. Augusto Conte, reminiscing in 1901 about his childhood, observed that

la generación actual apenas puede figurarse el desorden moral y material, ni la división de los ánimos, ni el encono de los partidos que reinaba en nuestro país. … Diríase que habíamos vuelto a la Edad Media, a la época de los güelfos y gibelinos, de montescos y capuletos.²⁴

(the present generation can hardly imagine the moral and material disorder, the division of opinion, or the party strife which reigned our nation. … One could have said that we had gone back to the Middle Ages, to the era of Guelphs and Ghibellines, Montagues and Capulets.)

In July 1833 Quintana wrote that “las turbulencias políticas y morales son lo mismo que los grandes desórdenes físicos”²⁵ (“political and moral turbulences are the same thing as great physical disorders”), a statement that should be interpreted with an understanding of medical backwardness at the time. Andrés de Arango, in a letter dated December 31, 1835, compared the state of the nation to an uncontrollable disease:

La [enfermedad] de esta Península ya observará V. por la lectura de nuestros periódicos que se ha mejorado algún tanto después del crecimiento que tan de punto subió durante los meses de Agosto y Septiembre último, pero la enfermedad siempre es muy grave y de cura muy tardía y delicada, pero como en estas graves dolencias suele haber sus crisis favorables que no dependen de cálculos humanos, en ella está fija mi esperanza ya que no puedo tenerla en otra cosa.²⁶

(You probably observe by reading our newspapers that the illness of this peninsula has improved somewhat after peaking so much during the past months of August and September, but the illness is still quite serious and in need of a slow and delicate cure; but, as these serious maladies are wont to have their favorable crises, independent of human calculations, in this do I place my hope, for I cannot do so in anything else.)

Nevertheless, Arango, whose only hope for Spain lay in Providence, according to the above, had expressed on September 26 of the same year another basis of confidence:

Sin embargo de todo no crea V. que yo me abandone al desconsuelo de un fatal y definitivo resultado porque cuento con la nulidad de nuestros enemigos que también son españoles, porque si no lo fuesen, ya hace tiempo que estaría aquí Don Carlos.²⁷

(In spite of everything, don't think that I abandon myself to the disconsolateness of a fatal and definitive result, because I count on the incompetence of our enemies, who are also Spaniards, because if they were not, Don Carlos would have been here a long time ago.)

Optimism springing from profound pessimism concerning the very nature of the national character is a stage that Larra does not appear to have reached.

Let us now return to Larra's essays. On April 4, 1834, the Revista Española printed “El hombre propone y Dios dispone, o lo que ha de ser el periodista.” Two theatrical reviews without political overtones had preceded it. “El hombre propone,” a subtle attack on censorship, uses the same sort of pseudoscientific (that is, pseudonaturalist) enumeration as “La planta nueva” and “El ministerial.” About two days later Figaro found another opportunity to address a gentle rebuke to the government for its action against El Siglo and other newspapers. Criticizing the Diario de Avisos for not bothering to list actors' names in its theatrical announcements, he adds:

No sabemos cuál sea la causa de la reserva de nuestro hermano; acaso cobrando miedo a la muerte que acecha a los periódicos en el día, temerá comprometerse y … ¿quién sabe?

(1: 366).

(We know nothing concerning the cause of our colleague's reserve; perhaps through fear of the death that threateningly lurks near newspapers in our day, it is afraid to commit itself and … who knows?)

In truth, the omission was probably due to indifference.

After a smattering of other theatrical reporting and a review of the third volume of Quintana's Vidas, we come to an article of considerable political interest, “Representación de La niña en casa y la madre en la máscara de Don Francisco Martínez de la Rosa” (April 14). Here Larra praises the playwright's linguistic refinement and good taste and the sensitivity with which his characters are drawn. On the other hand, the plot fares badly at the journalist's hands, owing mainly to some excessively protracted scenes and to the inclusion of a personage whose main purpose is to moralize.

Nosotros entendemos que la moral de una comedia no la ha de poner el autor en boca de [este o de aquel] personaje; ha de resultar entera de la misma acción … qui ne sait se borner ne sut jamais écrire, ha dicho un famoso crítico. Sin que queramos hacer una aplicación exacta de este axioma al señor Martínez, confesamos que es sensible que se haya dejado llevar de la antigua tradición …

(1: 372-373)

(It is our understanding that the moral of a play should not be put by the author in the mouth of this or that character; it should come wholly from the action itself … he who cannot limit himself never found out how to write, a famous critic once said. Without wishing to apply this axiom exactly to Mr. Martínez, we must admit that it is regrettable for him to have let himself be guided by the old tradition …)

Larra, though extremely careful, had no qualms about criticizing the prime minister's plays when he could introduce mitigating praise about a secondary aspect.

The next essay, “¿Qué hace en Portugal Su Majestad?” (April 18), a pungent burlesque of the pretender's court and his decrees, is followed by a highly favorable review of Juan María Maury's Espagne poétique. Then comes the well-known article about La conjuración de Venecia (April 25). In spite of abundant evidence of Larra's political hostility to Martínez, many critics have misunderstood Larra's views. Basing their arguments mainly on his praise for one play (which is undeniably good) and on a supposedly favorable mention of the Estatuto Real, these critics pay little heed to the circumstances. For example, in his biography of Figaro, Ismael Sánchez Estevan concludes that Larra's kind word for the Estatuto in the review of La conjuración indicates that the journalist may still have been a supporter of Martínez at the time, and only later became disillusioned with him.²⁸ But when we consider that before his review of La conjuración de Venecia Larra wrote five articles directly or indirectly against Martínez,²⁹ and then shortly after this play wrote two more such articles,³⁰ Sánchez Estevan's inference becomes untenable.³¹ It is indeed obvious that Larra's praise of the play is superlative; but it is also clear that Figaro's statements are justified in view of the moment. “No hemos visto nada mejor en Madrid” (1: 387—“we have seen nothing better in Madrid”) may imply adverse criticism of the Spanish stage and thus indicate only relative excellence. The assertion, moreover, should be understood as referring to theatrical productions in their totality and not just to the quality of the plays in written form.

Keeping this review in mind, let us turn momentarily to later events before its political significance is explained. On May 3, in his article on Giudita Grisi's performance of 1 Capuletti ed i Montechi, Larra again mentions the Estatuto Real, but his tribute to it is seemingly ironic. He insinuates that it does not satisfy his political yearning and complains openly about the time it took the government to draft it. It is true that at a later date he apparently wrote an article in praise of the Estatuto and an octava “En loor de la Reina Gobernadora,” both published in the Revista Española (June 14, 1834). Yet they are unsigned, a highly significant detail. The poem, meant as a contribution to the celebration of the Estatuto's solemn proclamation, was reproduced the next day by La Abeja, but with the author's name. Let us remember that the celebration was part of a well-organized campaign, with paeans for the benevolent queen who had granted the charter.³² It was also desirable to play safe, especially when the government had recently set an example by suppressing the extreme newspapers that might have contained unfavorable criticism. The true nature of all the encomium is hinted at by a contemporary historian:

No conviene a nuestros fines examinar detenidamente las imperfecciones o aciertos del nuevo código; sólo diremos que en nuestro sentir se hallaba muy distante de satisfacer los deseos que mucho antes de su publicación se habían ya generalmente manifestado. Por prudencia, por ignorancia o por lisonja, se tributaron a su autor grandes encomios en un principio; éstos se convirtieron después en quejas y severas críticas con daño del mismo hombre que había creído asegurarse en aquella obra la eterna estimación y reconocimiento de los españoles.³³

(It does not suit our purpose to examine at length the imperfections or merits of the new code. We shall only say that in our opinion it came far from satisfying the desires which, long before its publication, had been generally manifested. Through prudence, ignorance, or flattery, great praise was heaped upon its author in the beginning. These later turned into complaints and severe criticism to the detriment of the very man who had thought to assure himself, by means of this work, the eternal esteem and gratefulness of Spaniards.)

Is Larra's praise due to prudence, ignorance, or flattery? Some scholars have ascribed to him a sort of enthusiastic delusion. Again, I feel they have not properly examined the circumstances. Prudent flattery seems more likely here. In order to understand what Larra was up against and why he lauded somewhat the Estatuto, let us turn to Fermín Caballero. Caballero should be a reliable historian. He was not only a witness to these events but also a procurador and the editor of the Eco del Comercio:

Los que consideran a la imprenta como un poder en los gobiernos representativos, hablan de la prensa libre: nosotros durante el Estatuto la hemos tenido bajo la dura férula de la censura previa, y mal podía creerse un poder del estado. Ha hecho bienes inmensos, porque el continuo empeño del escritor lograba disfrazar algún día sus sentimientos hostiles, o presentar de manera su oposición que se escapase a la vigilancia censoria; pero advertido el gobierno del daño que le hacía un periódico, tenía en su mano el remedio: suprimirlo. Entre las bárbaras restricciones ideadas por los enemigos de la libertad de imprenta, ninguna más terrible y funesta que la supresión, la muerte de un papel público. Como si una empresa de esta clase no mereciese respetos por la propiedad que representa, los capitales que pone en circulación, las familias que mantiene y la instrucción que promueve, de una plumada se daba en tierra con tantos intereses por virtud del famoso reglamento; y hubo ocasión en que se suprimieron cuatro periódicos en una sola real orden, como sucedió el 19 de mayo de 1834 al Universal, Eco de la Opinión, Nacional y Tiempo, atribuyéndoles doctrinas diametralmente opuestas a los principios conservadores sancionados en el Estatuto Real.³⁴

(Those who consider the press as an estate in representative governments are talking about a free press. During the Estatuto ours was under the hard ferule of prior censorship, and it could hardly be called an estate. It brought immense benefits, because the continuous determination of the writer succeeded on occasion in disguising his hostile feelings, or in presenting his opposition in such a way that it escaped the vigilance of censorship. But once the government noticed the harm done to it by a newspaper, it possessed the remedy at hand: suppressing it. Among the barbarous restrictions thought up by the enemies of freedom of the press, none is more terrifying and dismal than the death of a public paper. Unmindful that an enterprise of this kind should have deserved some respect for the property it represented, the capital it put into circulation, the families it supported, and the instruction it promoted, one stroke of the pen would bring down all these interests by virtue of the famous regulation. And there was one occasion when four newspapers were suppressed by a single royal order, on May 19, 1834; namely, El Universal, El Eco de la Opinión, El Nacional, and El Tiempo, attributing to them doctrines diametrically opposed to the conservative principles sanctioned in the Estatuto Real.)

Let us note that this order was given only twenty-four days after the review of La conjuración de Venecia. Likewise, we should not deem a vain taunt the ironic banter aimed at the Diario de Avisos mentioned above.

There is an oft-quoted passage in this review that I would interpret, unlike some other students of Larra, as an ostentatious admission that the journalist is humoring Martínez. Let us not forget that the prime minister had the reputation of being easily beguiled. Would such an admission not mitigate the adulation? Let us examine the passage:

No acabaremos este juicio sin hacer una reflexión ventajosísima para el autor; ésta es la primera vez que vemos en Espańa a un ministro honrándose con el cultivo de las letras, con la inspiración de las musas. ¿Y en qué circunstancias? ¡Un Estatuto Real, la primera piedra que ha de servir al edificio de la regeneración de España, y un drama lleno de mérito! ¡Y esto lo hemos visto todo en una semana! No sabemos si aun fuera de España se ha repetido esta circunstancia particular.

Sabemos que el señor Martínez, modesto en medio de su triunfo, se hallaba en el teatro, y que se escondía a los públicos aplausos en lo más recóndito del palco bajo número 6. Este mérito más.

(1: 386)

(We cannot complete this judgment without making a comment most advantageous for the author. This is the first time that we see in Spain a minister honoring himself through the cultivation of letters, through the inspiration of the muses. And under what circumstances? A Royal Statute, the first stone which is to serve in the edifice of Spain's regeneration, and a play containing great merit! And we saw all this within one week! We do not know whether even outside Spain this particular circumstance has ever occurred.

We know that Mr. Martínez, modest in the midst of his triumph, was present in the theater, and that he concealed himself from public applause in the least exposed part of ground-floor box number 6. This is certainly one more merit.)

These lines do seem apt to flatter a man whom some may have considered, even at that time, “de espíritu aniñado.” By announcing that he will make “una reflexión ventajosísima para el autor,” Figaro appears to be calling our attention to his own compliments, thus hinting that he duly follows the dictates of caution by humoring the prime minister. Another phrase that should not escape scrutiny is “la primera piedra que ha de servir,” which may be interpreted as a sort of notification. Such a hypothesis is corroborated by the attitude of the Progressive procuradores a few months later when they made excessive use of the prerogatives granted to them in the Estatuto. In pressing for additional rights, these representatives abused the “derecho de petición” provided by the charter. There is an even more patent indication of the relevance of Larra's phrase. In the speech of the Crown for the opening of the Cortes on July 24, Toreno, the most liberal minister in the government, managed to insert the famous “cimiento” paragraph:

El Estatuto Real ha echado ya el cimiento: a vosotros os corresponde, ilustres Próceres y Sres. Procuradores del reino, concurrir a que se levante la obra con aquella regularidad y concierto que son prendas de estabilidad y firmeza.

(Pr., Apéndice al núm. 3, p. 2)

(The Estatuto Real has already laid the foundation. It is up to you, Illustrious Próceres and Procuradores of the realm, to contribute to the erection of the structure with that regularity and order which is the virtue of stability and firmness.)

During the succeeding parliamentary sessions, the Progressives gave these words the broadest possible interpretation. In like manner, it is probable that Larra expected his attentive readers to construe “primera piedra que ha de servir” as freely as the procuradores would later construe “cimiento.”

As for the “circunstancia particular,” that it certainly was, when we consider that the liberals had been awaiting a constitution for almost three months. And then, we must not forget the short note that Larra sent to his newspaper immediately after the performance, and which appeared the day before the review. Its highest praise is not for the work itself:

Con los ojos arrasados aún, con el corazón henchido de contrapuestos sentimientos, sólo encontramos expresiones para proclamar esta representación como la primera de todas cuantas se han visto en Madrid, sobre todo con respecto a la perfección con que se ha puesto en escena. El público la ha coronado de aplausos.

(1: 383, note 1)

(With eyes still inflamed, with a heart swollen by clashing sentiments, we only find expressions that will proclaim this performance as the first of all those seen in Madrid, especially with respect to the perfection of the staging. The public crowned it with applause.)

Here the critic extols the mise-en-scène “sobre todo” (we presume that Martínez paid a good amount for this out of his own pocket). The applause is the public's. Why is it that Larra's “sentimientos” are “contrapuestos,” and which feelings are they? Does Figaro's admiration for the playwright clash with his disapproval of the statesman? Villa-Urrutia must have sensed the review's irony when he wrote:

Admiró Larra de Martínez de la Rosa que en una propia semana diese al público el Estatuto Real y un drama intitulado La Conjuración de Venecia, con lo que logró, según Cánovas del Castillo, acreditarse más de romántico con su drama que de liberal con su ley fundamental, para los revolucionarios literarios o políticos de la época.³⁵

(Larra was amazed that in the same week Martínez de la Rosa could give to the public the Estatuto Real and The Venetian Conspiracy, whereby he succeeded, according to Cánovas del Castillo, in proving himself to the literary or political revolutionaries of that era, more of a Romantic with his drama than a liberal with his fundamental law.

It seems hasty to conclude that Larra was satisfied with the Estatuto Real. He may have rejoiced with his fellow-liberals because it was, after all, a significant step towards liberty. It meant the end of absolute monarchy; after the Calomarde era, this alone was cause for gladness. The Progressives and Isabelinos followed the cautious policy of cheering it for the sake of solidarity with the queen. Perhaps it was also the best way to allay the prime minister's fears, in the hope of catching him off his guard for a later coup.

When the Cortes did meet finally, it soon became clear that Progressive cooperation was a mere façade. Many procuradores adhered to the parliamentary rules prescribed in the Estatuto while doing all they could to stretch its interpretation. Their observance of the new legality was only superficial, however, for underneath it all, the Isabelina plotted to overthrow the government and establish a constitution written by Olavarría. The situation at the time was so complex that it is bold to assume that any person who moved in liberal political circles had any illusions about the Estatuto Real. Along with his prominent acquaintances, Larra in all likelihood decided to make a feigned gesture of thanks for “la primera piedra.”

The next theatrical review, an unfavorable one, appears on April 28; it concerns Ni el tío ni el sobrino by Espronceda and Ros de Olano. The essay on I Capuletti ed i Montechi (May 3) is much more significant, since its first four paragraphs are partly political. The journalist begins by commending both the Estatuto and Giudita Grisi, the soprano.³⁶ This initiates a process that could be dubbed laudatio ad absurdum, whereby praise is bestowed upon one thing linked by analogy to something else; and the analogy is then carried to the point where it renders the initial encomium inconsequential. It should be noted also that the introductory tribute to the Estatuto gives an appearance of conventionality meant perhaps as a precaution, so that the censor might find what is to follow not too unpalatable:

Cosa probada parece que han menester hacerse esperar las cosas en nuestro país para ser buenas; la experiencia ha hecho para nosotros un axioma de esta proposición, tanto en política como en música. Pocas cosas habrán ejercitado tanto nuestra paciencia como el Estatuto y la señorita Grissi; en cambio, sin embargo, muy pocas también nos han satisfecho más completamente. Si atendidos estos ejemplos puede dejar de ser paradójica nuestra inducción, debe servirnos de gran consuelo; porque, según ella, ¿qué esperanzas no podemos fundar de las cosas que en la actualidad nos tienen en expectativa?

(1: 389)

(It seems to be a certainty in our country that things have to become long-awaited in order to be good. Experience has made an axiom of this proposition for us, in politics as well as in music. Few things have exercised our patience as much as the Estatuto and Miss Grisi; on the other hand, nevertheless, very few have likewise satisfied us more completely. If, once these examples have been taken into account, our induction ceases to appear paradoxical, this will provide us with great consolation, because, accordingly, what hopes shall we then not be able to base on those things that keep us in expectancy at present?)

The first three words have a definite air of antithesis; to say about something that it appears proven is equivalent to doubting that it has been proven. Likewise, using “más” before “completamente” makes the latter word ambiguous, and Figaro would not be untruthful if he were to state that few things indeed have ever come near to satisfying him. There is also irony in the suggestion that his inductive reasoning is paradoxical.

Having compared the Estatuto to the excellent prima donna, Figaro now uses for a similar purpose the tenor Género, who is still “ese eterno mañana de los dilettanti”³⁷ (1: 389—“that eternal morrow of the dilettantes”). Then, shifting from the soprano to the tenor for the sake of analogy, Larra writes:

¿Qué no hemos de esperar de la ley Municipal, de la ley de Elecciones, de la de convocatoria; qué de nuestras Cortes, y qué, en fin, de nuestra completa libertad racional y de nuestra próxima felicidad?

(1: 389)

(What can we not expect from the Municipal law, from the Electoral law, from the law for summoning Cortes? And what shall we not expect from our Cortes, and what, finally, from our complete rational liberty and our approaching felicity?)

The reader is thus forced to conclude that all of this legislation will take too long to bring appreciable results. But the journalist does not drop the topic at this point; on the contrary, he insists on maintaining an analogy between politicians and musicians: “la medianía es insoportable en música; el justo medio es insufrible en circunstancias críticas” (1: 389—“mediocrity is unbearable in music; the just middle is unsufferable under critical circumstances”). The “juste milieu” is identified, of course, with Martínez's adoption of Victor Cousin's political theories, so that the final remark on ministerial indecision cannot but be construed as an attack on the prime minister himself: “Un tenor débil desluce una pieza concertante, un ministro blando desconcierta la máquina” (1: 390—“A weak tenor dulls a concert piece, a pliant minister disconcerts the whole set-up”). Though Larra never was a Doceañista, his prudence, his newspaper's policy, and, in any case, the censor would have put any open opposition to the Estatuto beyond the bounds of possibility. Nevertheless, the charter was but a creature of “justo medio” philosophy, so that, by suggesting the inadequacy of Martínez's principles and lawmaking, Larra has, in a way, put the Estatuto Real in a bad light.

“Las palabras,” published on May 8, is also political, but it possesses the quality of universality to an apparently greater degree than the previous essays. Its first paragraph is pseudophilosophical, the type of exordium subsequently found in “El ministerial,” though as a whole it is thematically akin to “Por ahora,” written nine months later. In the latter, Figaro ridicules trite words of caution to eager reformers. In “Las palabras” he scoffs at verbiage without action, alluding to ministerialist newspapers that seek to maintain with vague hopes and platitudes the people's faith in governmental wisdom. By comparing the two essays, it becomes evident that the same politicians who once uttered “mañana” would later declare “por ahora no” (“not for now”).

Larra does not fail to emit a jibe at the men in power whenever the opportunity arises. In his review of Ducange's El verdugo de Amsterdam (May 13), we find a pregnant vehicle:

se forma causa al joven Federico. Las causas en Holanda deben de ir más de prisa que en Madrid, verdad es que no es difícil. A poco de estar preso, ya está sentenciado …

(1: 395)

(a lawsuit is drawn up against young Frederick. Lawsuits in Holland must be handled more quickly than in Madrid; of course, this should not be too difficult. He has hardly been imprisoned when he is sentenced …)

Three days later, while commenting on Beaumarchais' Mariage de Figaro, Larra implies that the public's hissing this play is proof that jacobinism has almost no following in Spain:

Las mismas razones que han hecho su fortuna [in the rest of Europe] han debido causar en Madrid su desgracia; y a los que se empeñan en suponer que es de temer una semejanza de situación entre nuestro país y la Francia de la Revolución, ésta sería una de las pruebas que les daríamos para tranquilizarlos … es imposible suponer en Beaumarchais la idea de predicar de buena fe la doctrina esparcida en su obra. Hay cosas tan atrevidas que llegan a estomagar.

(1: 396)

(The same reasons for its success [in the rest of Europe] must be those of its failure in Madrid; and this ought to be one of the proofs needed to tranquilize people who insist on supposing that a similarity is to be feared between our situation and that of France during the Revolution … one cannot possibly suppose that Beaumarchais thinks of preaching in good faith the doctrine dispersed throughout his work. Some things are so daring that they turn one's stomach.)

This passage should be examined in the light of other remarks supposedly meant to allay the government's fear of a coup, a fear resulting in its hesitancy to take liberal measures, such as the creation of a national guard.

The next theatrical—or rather, operatic—article, “Ana Bolena” (May 19), also contains a politically pregnant vehicle, used as an example in chapter 1. The remark that Judith Grisi seemed as much alone as the pretender in Portugal provides a theme for a subsequent essay, “El último adiós” (June 2), a low burlesque of Carlos's flight from the neighboring kingdom. More operatic and theatrical criticism also appeared at that time. The most politically significant one concerns a tragedy entitled Numancia (probably not the one by Cervantes); the review is mainly an attack on prior censorship, and, in describing the play and the acting, Larra cleverly adapts several phrases from the regulations decreed eight days previously. It ends on a bitterly ironic note, wittily but pathetically associating an aspect of Spain's cultural penury to the Progressives' disappointment in Martínez:

El telón al caer se detuvo a la mitad del camino a tomar un ligero descanso; no parecía sino que caminaba por la senda de los progresos, según lo despacio que iba y los tropiezos que encontraba. Tardó más en bajar que han tardado las patrias libertades en levantarse.

(1: 410)

(Coming down, the curtain stopped halfway to take a little rest. It seemed to be journeying along the path of progress, judging from its slow pace and the snags it must have encountered. It took longer to drop than our country's freedoms to rise forth.)

The phrase, “la mitad del camino,” is obviously a scornful reference to the “juste milieu.” Larra also mocks the “ley del uno por ciento,” described in the previous chapter, by stating that “un artículo de periódico ha de salir bien de primera vez, que en fin no es ningún reglamento de milicia” (1: 409—“a newspaper article must come out right the first time because, after all, it isn't a militia regulation”).

The review of Norma (July 2) is even more daring. It refers to censorship through a theatrical simile: “Más breve, con algunas enmiendas, con menos todavía que las que suele hacer la censura en un artículo de oposición, el señor Género puede ir adelante” (1: 415—“If he were quicker, and with a few corrections, even less than those made by censorship in an opposition article, Mr. Género could make some progress”). Larra devotes his last paragraph to the question of Calomarde appointees in the civil service, which will be dealt with in chapter 9. One extremely significant sentence concerns another important topic, the government's fear:

En el día no se puede vivir sin tener miedo: o a los revolucionarios que nadie ha visto y que nos llevan sin embargo a la anarquía, no se sabe por dónde, según ciertas gentes, o a las sociedades secretas que van a hacer un daño tremendo a la sordina, según la Revista y el Eco.³⁸

(1: 415)

(It is impossible to live nowadays without being afraid, either of the revolutionaries whom no one has seen and who, according to certain folk, are nevertheless leading us into anarchy, though no one knows which way, or of the secret societies, who are going to bring tremendous harm on the quiet, according to La Revista and El Eco.)

It is noteworthy that a history attributed to Javier de Burgos reproduces an article from the Eco del Comercio attacking the secret societies. But the historian comments:

Estos razonamientos eran una condenación explícita, terminante, no sólo de la sociedad de los Isabelinos, sino de todas las sociedades secretas sin excepción alguna. Y aquí debemos preguntar otra vez: ¿querían engañar a sus adversarios los que tales doctrinas predicaban, o se engañaban a sí propios? Lo que podemos decir es, que muchos de los admiradores de esas doctrinas fueron después inconsecuentes porque, o formaron parte de las sociedades secretas, o se unieron a ellas para derribar a los poderes legítimos del Estado.³⁹

(These arguments constituted an explicit, definitive condemnation, not only of the Isabelina, but of all secret societies without exception. And now we must again ask ourselves: did those who preached such doctrines wish to deceive their adversaries, or were they fooling themselves? What we can say is that many of the admirers of those doctrines were later inconsistent because, either they formed part of the secret societies, or they joined with them to tear down the legitimate powers of the State.)

Only three weeks later the Palafox conspiracy was unmasked. Is Larra therefore sincere when he appears to chide the ministry for being afraid of a supposedly nonexistent danger? His oxymoron, “daño tremendo a la sordina,” is especially effective stylistically here. Yet we must remember that the government was indeed in trouble and perhaps the Revista, which represented the loyal opposition, was calling on Martínez to take liberal measures in the face of growing discontent and the threat of a leftist rebellion. Either Larra's remark is not ironic and accords with the newspaper's policy, or it really is ironic, making light of the government's justified alarm and thus counteracting any sympathy Martínez might gain for taking preventive measures. The latter is probably the case.

His next publication is a review of Rivas's comedy, Tanto vales cuanto tienes. Here Larra does not allude to politics except to mention Rothschild and Aguado. The same holds true with respect to two more reviews. Then comes an essay on the closing of theaters owing to poor attendance during the cholera epidemic. Larra grudgingly flatters the government but also tactfully blames it for not coming to their aid:

Dirásenos, es verdad, que las graves atenciones que ocupan en el día al Gobierno han podido ser causa de esta fatalidad. No quisiéramos ofender a un Gobierno a quien tanto debemos; pero nosotros tenemos también nuestra opinión, y este punto no nos parecía de menos entidad que otros. Ésta no es ya una mera cuestión de teatros, sino de salud pública, de alta política; y no juzgamos equivocarnos al creer que no pueden desconocer estas verdades ministros ilustrados, y aun literatos y poetas, que miramos al frente de los negocios.

(1: 421)

(Truly enough, the reply will be that the attention the Government must devote to serious matters at this time may have been the cause of this calamity. We do not wish to offend a Government to which we owe so much; yet we also have our own opinion, and this point seemed to be of no less moment than the others. It is not a mere question of theater but of public weal, of statesmanship; and we do not feel we are mistaken in believing that enlightened ministers, even men of letters and poets whom we see in charge of the affairs of state, cannot be unaware of these truths.)

The last of the preparliamentary articles thus ends on a cautious but reproachful note. With the opening of a parliament, newspapers will obtain some protection from arbitrariness, through their connections with members of Cortes. Under these circumstances, Figaro's writing from now on appears bolder, as we shall see in the following chapters.

Notes

1. Julio Nombela y Campos, Larra (Fígaro) (Madrid: Imprenta Particular de “La Ultima Moda,” 1906-1908), pp. 266-267.

2. Ibid., pp. 267-268.

3. Jerónimo Merino (1769-1844), Spanish priest, and guerrilla leader during the War of Independence. He became general and military governor of the province of Burgos until 1833, when he formed a Carlist band.

4. Gabriel Boussagol, Ángel de Saavedra, duc de Rivas (Toulouse: Privat, 1926), p. 30.

5. Ramón de Mesonero Romanos, Obras, vol. 2 (Madrid: Renacimiento, 1886), pp. 100-101.

6. This becomes a topos in “El hombre menguado” (October 27, 1833) (1: 301) and “La planta nueva” (November 10, 1833) (1: 304).

7. Cf. “Antony” (June 25, 1836) (2: 251). For further evidence of Larra's democratic attitudes, see a letter to the editor of El Castellano, quoted by Carmen de Burgos Seguí, “Fígaro” (Madrid: Imprenta de “Alrededor del mundo,” 1919), p. 34. Also, 1: 14-15, 411-412, 2: 41.

8. Nombela, Larra, p. 266.

9. See ibid., pp. 266-276. Lomba concurs in this judgment and adds that it was Martínez's biography of Hernán Pérez del Pulgar which gave the journalist the idea to clothe its author thus. See José R. Lomba y Pedraja, Mariano José de Larra (Fígaro) (Madrid: Tipografía de Archivos, 1936), pp. 98-99.

10. [Fermín Caballero], El gobierno y las Cortes del Estatuto (Madrid: Yenes, 1837), p. lxxi. See Antonio Alcalá Galiano, Historia de España …, 7 vols. (Madrid: Sociedad Literaria y Tipográfica, 1844-1846), 7: 332-333, on the political position of these newspapers. In addition, Larra writes in “El Siglo en blanco” (March 9, 1834): “si hay quien culpe todavía de poco carácter a la Revista, desafiamos por esta vez al Siglo a que tenga más que nosotros” (1: 353).

11. For a brief account of the incident, see E. Rodríguez Solís, Espronceda; su tiempo, su vida y sus obras (Madrid: Imp. de Fernando Cao y Domingo de Val, 1883), pp. 119-130. The most informative analysis to date, which includes a partial elucidation of Larra's reaction, is Robert Marrast, “Fígaro y El Siglo,” Insula 17, nos. 188-189 (July-August, 1962): 6.

12. José Eugenio de Eguizábal, Apuntes para una historia de la legislación española sobre imprenta desde el año de 1480 al presente (Madrid: Imprenta de la Revista de Legislación, 1879), p. 258.

13. Ibid., p. 244.

14. Rodríguez Solís, Espronceda, p. 127.

15. Frederick Courtney Tarr, “More Light on Larra,” Hispanic Review 4 (1936): 98. As for the problem of chronology, I was unable to locate the Diario de Avisos for this period. Segovia's article on Hernán Pérez del Pulgar came out in March 1834 (Antonio María Segovia, Colección de composiciones serias y festivas en prosa y en verso, escogidas entre las publicadas e inéditas del escritor conocido por “El Estudiante,” vol. 1 [Madrid: I. Sancha, 1839], p. 48). As the article was available to me only in this collection, where solely the month of appearance is listed, I could not learn its exact date. Larra's article appeared on March 30 (see Ismael Sánchez Estevan, Mariano José de Larra … [Madrid: Hernando, 1934], p. 235); consequently there are twenty-nine out of thirty chances that it was written after Segovia's. Moreover, if it is true, as Lomba states (M. J. de Larra, p. 300), that Hernán Pérez del Pulgar inspired Larra's satirical description of Martínez's clothes in “Los tres no son más que dos” (February 18, 1834), then the book had been out for quite some time before the reviews were written (unless Larra had seen the manuscript of Martínez's work before he wrote “Los tres no son más que dos”).

16. Segovia, Colección de composiciones, pp. 50-51.

17. Ibid., p. 49.

18. Found on p. 36 of original edition. Changed to “de ella” in BAE, 150: 285.

19. Found on p. 26 of original edition. Also BAE, 150: 281.

20. Segovia, Colección de composiciones, p. 50.

21. Ibid., p. 51.

22. I have found no evidence to confirm this, however.

23. Francisco Martínez de la Rosa, Hernán Pérez del Pulgar (Madrid: Jordán, 1834), pp. 7, 38, 82. The other page references are to this, the original edition, unless BAE is specified.

24. Augusto Conte, Recuerdos de un diplomático, 3 vols. (Madrid: Imprenta de S. Góngora y Álvarez, 1901-1903), 1: 43. Note that Figaro had used this figure of speech before Conte: “En disenciones civiles, el que no es montesco o capuleto merece la execración de Verona …” (1: 389).

25. BAE, 19: 368.

26. “Centón epistolario de Domingo del Monte,” Anales de la Academia de la Historia (Cuba), 2 (1921): 362.

27. Ibid., p 361.

28. Sánchez Estevan, M. J. de Larra, pp. 92-94.

29. “Los tres no son más que dos, y el que no es nada vale por tres. Mascarada política” (February 18, 1834); “El Siglo en blanco” (March 9); “Ventaja de las cosas a medio hacer” (March 16); “Hernán Pérez del Pulgar” (March 30); and “El hombre propone y Dios dispone o lo que ha de ser el periodista” (April 4).

30. “I Capuletti ed i Montechi” (May 3, 1834), and “Las palabras” (May 8). See Nombela, Larra, pp. 278-280, for an analysis of the latter with reference to the prime minister.

31. Sánchez Estevan does not seem to sense this; he writes: “No cabe elogio mayor en aquellos días” (M. J. de Larra, p. 93).

32. Tarr, “More Light on Larra,” p. 98, note 34.

33. Anonymous, Historia contemporánea de la revolución de España …, 5 vols. (Madrid: [Of. del Establecimiento Central], 1843), 4: 48.

34. [Caballero], El gobierno, p. lxxi.

35. Wenceslao Ramírez de Villa-Urrutia, La reina gobernadora, Doña María Cristina de Borbón (Madrid: Beltrán 1925), p. 96. For further evidence, see the ambiguous statement apparently concerning La conjuración, in Larra's review of Martínez's Aben Humeya (June 12, 1836) (2: 225).

36. Though Larra spelled her name Grissi, it actually has only one s. In the Aguilar edition the first three paragraphs have been omitted.

37. Two months later Larra said frankly that there was room for improvement (1: 414-415, 426).

38. El Eco probably stood to the left of La Revista. Fermín Caballero writes that “el decidido Boletín, que tan ardientemente y sin cesar había combatido el despotismo ilustrado, cayó el 30 de marzo de 1834, cuando su popularidad le había granjeado el mayor número de suscritores que tuvo periódico español. Volvió a aparecer con el nombre de Eco luego que el Sr. Burgos dejó el Fomento; pero a poco más de un año recibió otro golpe de poder el 17 de agosto de 1835, siguiendo las mismas alternativas que la marcha de la libertad” ([Caballero], El gobierno, pp. lxxi-lxxii).

39. [Javier de Burgos], Historia pintoresca del reinado de Da. Isabel II y de la guerra civil, 4 vols. (Madrid: Castello, 1846-1847), vol. 2, bk. 5, pp. 281-284. During the debate of August 2 in Próceres about the reply to the address of the Crown, the Duke of Rivas proposed that “se debería insinuar la necesidad de fijar por medio de una decisión solemne el modo de destruir real y positivamente la división de partidos.” These so-called parties centered on secret societies (Masons, Isabelinos, etc.). The duke himself, though, was implicated in the Palafox conspiracy (cf. Jean Sarrailh, Un Homme d'Etat espagnol: Martínez de la Rosa (1787-1862) (Bordeaux: Feret, 1930), p. 210, note 6; and Juan Valera y Alcalá Galiano, Historia general de España … por Don Modesto Lafuente …, 25 vols. (Barcelona: Montaner y Simón, 1887-1890), 20: 86.

Note on Bibliography and Orthography

References to Larra's works are indicated by volume (1-4) and page number in Obras de Mariano José de Larra, ed. Carlos Seco Serrano, in Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, vols. 127-130 (Madrid: Atlas, 1960), henceforth indicated as BAE. For a detailed recommendation of this edition for scholarly purposes, see my review in Revista Hispánica Moderna 29 (1963): 298-299.

The source for parliamentary speeches has been the Diario de las sesiones de Cortes, legislatura de 1834 a 1835. The page number in these references is preceded by the abbreviation Ilus. for the Estamento de Ilustres Próceres (Madrid: Imprenta Nacional, 1865), and by Pr. for the Estamento de Procuradores (Madrid: J. A. García, 1867).

The orthography of quotations has been modernized in accordance with “Nuevas normas de prosodia y ortografía,” which may be found in Real Academia Española, Grámatica de la lengua española (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1959), pp. 537-540. Words found in the Diario in the form gerarquía, geroglífico, Gerónimo, and prorogar have been respelled. “Zea Bermúdez” is used in the body of the text, but “Cea” has been retained in quotations which originally carried this version. The orthography of nineteenth-century historians and of the preamble to the Estatuto Real has likewise been changed: for example, esponer, esperiencia, lijero, Rei, frayle, doile.

Bibliography

Editions Useful for Scholarly Purposes

Larra, Mariano José de. Artículos de costumbres y de crítica de Mariano José de Larra. Edited by E. Herman Hespelt. New York: F. S. Crofts, 1941.

———. “La empresa nueva,” Semanario Pintoresco Español 19 (1854): 11-12.

———. Fígaro; Colección de artículos dramáticos, literarios, políticos y de costumbres … 5 vols. Madrid: Repullés, 1835-1837.

———. Obras de D. Mariano José de Larra (Fígaro), edited by Carlos Seco Serrano. In Biblioteca de Autores Españoles. Vols. 127-130. Madrid: Atlas, 1960.