The Life of Lazarillo of Tormes Part 1

The Life of Lazarillo of Tormes.

by Lazarillo of Tormes.

INTRODUCTION

_Lazarillo of Tormes_ appeared in sixteenth-century Spain like a breath of fresh air among hundreds of insipidly sentimental novels of chivalry. With so many works full of knights who were manly and brave enough to fight any adversary, but p.r.o.ne to become weak in the knees when they saw their fair lady nearby, was it any wonder that Lazarillo, whose only goal was to fill a realistically hungry stomach, should go straight to the hearts of all Spain. The little novel sold enough copies for three different editions to be issued in 1554, and then was quickly translated into several languages. It initiated a new genre of writing called the "picaresque."

It seems certain that other editions, or at least other ma.n.u.scripts, of _Lazarillo_ were circulating previously, but the earliest we know of were the three published in 1554. One of these was printed at Burgos, another at Antwerp, and the third at Alcala de Henares. They all differ somewhat in language, but it is the one from Alcala de Henares that departs most radically from the other two. It adds some episodes, not in the other editions, which were probably written by a second author.

Because _Lazarillo_ was so critical of the clergy, it was put on the Index Purgatorius in 1559 and further editions were prohibited inside Spain. Then, in 1573, an abridged version was printed that omitted Chapters four and five, along with other items displeasing to a watchful Inquisition; later additional episodes were suppressed. This mutilated version was reprinted until the nineteenth century, when Spain finally allowed its people to read the complete work once again.

The ident.i.ty of the author of this novel has always been a mystery. A few names have been suggested over the years: Juan de Ortega, a Jeronymite monk; Sebastian de Horozco, a dramatist and collector of proverbs. But probably the most widely accepted theory was the attribution to Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, a famous humanist. Many early editions of _Lazarillo_ carried his name as author, even though there has never been any real proof of his authorship. Some critics, following Americo Castro's lead, think the author was a Jewish convert to Christianity because of certain phrases which point in that direction. And some think he was a follower of Erasmus, despite the French critic Marcel Bataillon's emphatic statements to the contrary.

One of the first relationships we become aware of as we read this novel is the link of the name Lazaro (Lazarillo: little Lazaro) with the biblical Lazarus: either the figure who died and was brought back to life (John 16) or the beggar (Luke 16:20-31).

This "historical" relationship is further compounded by the fact that many episodes of the novel are versions of material traditional in European folklore. There is, for instance, a thirteenth century French theatrical farce, _Le garcon et l'aveugle_, in which a servant plays tricks on a blind man. And the British Museum ma.n.u.script of the _Decretals_ of Gregory IX contains an ill.u.s.tration of a boy drinking through a straw from a blind man's bowl. The episode in which Lazarillo thinks a corpse is being brought to his house appears in the _Liber facetiarum et similitudinum Ludovici de Pinedo, et amicorum_ and may be a folktale. And the story of the constable and the pardoner is to be found in the fourth novel of _Il novellino_ by Masuccio Salernitano, and may also be a folktale.

It has long been said that this novel is an accurate reflection of society in sixteenth-century Spain. And to some extent, this does seem to be true. The king of Spain, Charles I, became involved in several foreign wars, and had gone deeply into debt to German and Italian bankers in order to finance those wars.

Soon the quant.i.ties of gold and silver coming from Spain's mines in the New World were being sent directly to the foreign bankers.

The effects of inflation were to be seen everywhere, as were other social ills. Beggars and beggars' guilds were numerous.

Men of all cla.s.ses were affixing t.i.tles to their names, and refusing any work--especially any sort of manual labor--unless it suited their new "rank." The clergy was sadly in need of reform.

And pardoners were--often unscrupulously--selling indulgences that granted the forgiveness of sins in return for money to fight the infidel in North Africa and the Mediterranean. All these things are to be found in _Lazarillo of Tormes_.

But is the book really an accurate reflection of all of Spanish society? If there were avaricious priests, and priests who had mistresses, were there none with strong moral principles? If poverty was felt so keenly by Lazarillo and others, was there no one who enjoyed a good meal? As another writer has suggested, the Spanish conquerors did not come to the New World on empty stomachs, nor was the Spanish Armada ill supplied. It is obvious, then, that while _Lazarillo_ reflects Spanish society, it mirrors only one segment of that society. Its writer ignored uncorrupted men of generosity and high moral principles who surely existed alongside the others. So just as the chivalresque novels distorted reality upward, this novel distorts reality downward and almost invariably gives us only the negative traits of society.

An important point is the unity, or nonunity, of the book.

Earliest critics of Lazarillo of Tormes saw it as a loosely formed novel of unconnected episodes whose only point of unity happened to be the little rogue who told his life story, in which he is seen as serving one master after another. Later criticism has changed that point of view, however, by pointing to such unifying factors as wine, which is used as a recurring theme throughout (Lazarillo steals it; it is used for washing his wounds; he sells it). Then there is the "initiation" in which Lazarillo's head is slammed against a stone statue of a bull.

Later the blind man smashes his own head against a stone post as poetic justice is meted out. Finally, Lazarillo's mother will "lie at the side--or stay on the side of good people," and as the novel ends Lazaro decides to do the same.

Claudio Guillen, a modern critic, has noted that time is also a unifying factor in this novel. Early incidents are told in detail, and at moments of pain specific amounts of time are measured ("I felt the pain from its horns for three days"). When Lazarillo is taken in by the squire his hunger pangs become so great that he begins to count the hours. But as conditions improve for Lazarillo's stomach, he gradually forgets about the slow pa.s.sage of time. In fact, time now begins to race past: four months with the pardoner, four years with the chaplain.

This slow, then swift, pa.s.sage of time is used by Guillen to explain the extreme brevity of some later chapters of the novel.

It is a mature Lazaro, he says, who is telling the story and reflecting on his childhood. And we are really seeing the memory process of this older Lazaro who glosses over less important parts of his life and dwells on the moments that matter.

Other critics have responded to the question of "finality" in the work; that is, is Lazarillo an incomplete novel or not?

Francisco Rico believes the novel is complete, and that there is a "circular" structure to it all. He notes that the novel is addressed to a certain fictional character ("You": Vuestra merced), and that Lazarillo intends to tell this character "all the details of the matter," the "matter" apparently being the questionable relations between the archpriest and Lazarillo's wife. So there is a continuity from the beginning of the work through the details of Lazarillo's life, until the last chapter ("right up to now") where the "matter" itself, alluded to previously in the Prologue, is finally given in some detail.

Another critic, Americo Castro, points out that _Lazarillo of Tormes_ is different from other types of sixteenth century prose fiction in at least one extremely important way that points toward the modern novel. The knights of chivalresque novels and the shepherds who sighed and lamented their way through pastoral novels were flat characters with no room to grow. Not so Lazarillo. Every action, every twist of fortune makes an impression on him, forms his way of looking at the world and shapes his nature. From an innocent little boy he becomes a mischievous, then vengeful, blind man's boy. He observes the hypocrisy, avarice, false pride, materialism of his masters, and when he marries the archpriest's mistress for what he can gain, he applies all the lessons he has learned on the ladder to success-- to the "height of all good fortune." Americo Castro also notes that _Lazarillo of Tormes_ is a step toward the masterpiece of Cervantes, _Don Quixote of La Mancha_. As this critic said: "In addition to its intrinsic merits, the _Lazarillo de Tormes_ is supremely important viewed in its historic perspective. In many ways it made possible the _Quijote_. Among other things, it offered in the intimate opposition of the squire and his servant the first outline of the duality-unity of Don Quijote and Sancho."

Style is another point of great importance to this novel, particularly in the use of conceits. Lazarillo's father, for example, "suffered persecution for righteousness' sake," a clear reference to the beat.i.tudes. But in this case "righteousness" is the law who is punishing him for being the thief that he is.

Throughout the novel we see similar plays on words: the master, who "although he was _blind, enlightened_ me;" or the squire who tried to coax certain young ladies one morning, and whose stomach was _warm_, but when he discovered that his pocketbook was _cold_, he suffered _hot-chills_.

It is not surprising that sequels promptly appeared, but the writers of these unfortunately lacked the genius of the author of the original _Lazarillo_. An anonymous sequel appeared in 1555 with the t.i.tle, _The Second Part of Lazarillo of Tormes, His Fortunes and Misfortunes_. Its beginning words are the same as the final ones of the first _Lazarillo_, but there any similarity ends. In this novel Lazaro makes friends with some Germans and his wife gives birth to a daughter. Lazaro then enlists to go on an expedition to fight the Turks, his ship sinks, and he is miraculously changed into a fish. He has many adventures in the sea, and is finally caught up in the nets of some fishermen and changes back into a man. The novel is a fantasy, and may be allegorical. The beginning is its most realistic point, and the first chapter of this novel became tacked onto the end of the first _Lazarillo_.

No further sequels were printed until 1620 when Juan Cortes de Tolosa's book, _Lazarillo de Manzanares_, was published. This novel imitates the first _Lazarillo_ in its initial episodes, but is again far less successful than the original.

In the same year, 1620, Juan de Luna's _Second Part of the Life of Lazarillo of Tormes_ was published in Paris. (Another edition was published simultaneously in Paris, but was marked as though printed in Zaragoza to facilitate the book's sale in Spain.) Little is definitely known about Luna. We do know that he was born in Spain--perhaps in Aragon. He apparently fled to France in 1612 as a political and religious refugee: in one of his books he refers to himself as "a foreigner who has left behind his homeland, his relatives, and his estate for a just and legitimate cause." It has been speculated that Luna may have been educated for the priesthood but then grown dissatisfied and even vehemently bitter toward the clergy. The reason for his flight to France has been interpreted as a flight from the Spanish Inquisition. In France, in Montauban, he began to study theology to prepare himself for the Protestant ministry. But soon afterward he became a Spanish teacher in Paris, and in 1619 published a book of proverbs and phrases for Spanish students.

The following year his continuation of Lazarillo was published, along with a revised version of the original Lazarillo (revised because its style did not suit his tastes). Next he appeared in London, in 1622, attempting to have his sequel translated into English. His Spanish grammar was published there the following year. The last information we have of him is that he became a Protestant minister in England, and for three years delivered sermons to his fellow Spaniards each Sunday, in Mercer's Chapel, Cheapside, London.

Although the details of Juan de Luna's life are rather sketchy, a great deal more can be said about his novel. His continuation of Lazarillo was the only sequel to meet with any success. The same characters--Lazarillo, the archpriest, the squire, etc.--are here, but their personalities are changed drastically. The squire is the one who is most noticeably different. He is no longer the sympathetic, poor, generous (when he has money) figure of the first part. Now he is a thief, a cowardly braggart, a dandy, and Lazaro has nothing but scorn for him. Lazaro himself is now fully grown, and there is no room for his personality to change as before. Perhaps the only character who is still the same is Lazaro's wife.

Other differences between the two novels are also evident. In the first _Lazarillo_ we see a central protagonist who serves a different master or performs a different type of work in each chapter. But in Luna's sequel we do not have this same structure. In the first five chapters of Luna's book, for example, Lazarillo's adventures flow as they do in traditional novels: he goes to sea, the ship sinks, he is captured by fishermen and put on exhibition as a fish, and finally he is rescued. The following chapters, however, often divide his life into segments as he goes from one position to another.

Another difference to be noted is that while the first Lazarillo addresses a certain person ("You": Vuestra merced) who is not the reader but an acquaintance of the archpriest, in the _Second Part_ something quite different occurs. Luna's Lazaro addresses the "dear reader" but hardly with flattering terms: he humorously suggests that we may all be cuckolds. Then he ironically refuses to tell us about--or even let us think about--certain promiscuous details because they may offend our pure and pious ears. The framework of the first novel is apparently a device whose purpose, like the "Arabic historian" and the "translators" of _Don Quixote_, is to create an atmosphere of realism, while Luna's "dear reader" is simply a device for humor.

Another important distinction to be made between the two books is the extent of word-play used. Almost one hundred years elapsed between the times the two books were published, and literary styles changed a great deal. While the first _Lazarillo_ used some conceits, as we have previously noted, Luna's book abounds with them to the point where it becomes baroque. About people who are being flooded with water or are drowning, it is usually said that they are overcome by trifling, but watery, circ.u.mstances: "a drop in the ocean" (ahogar en tan poca agua).

Lazarillo's child is "born with the odor of saintliness about her" (una hija ingerta a canutillo); unfortunately this refers less to her as holy than it does to the fact that her father is really the archpriest. The use of ant.i.thesis is also evident throughout Luna's novel. From the beginning in which he dedicated his small work to a great princess, throughout the length of the book, we find Lazaro esteemed by his friends and feared by his enemies, begging from people who give money with open hands while he does not take it with closed ones, and so on.

Another trick in language is Luna's plays on sounds: such combinations as sali--salte (left--leaped), comedia--comida (rituals--victuals) are abundant. Luna also uses obscene conceits for a humorous purpose, mixing them with religious allusions both for humor and to vent his own feelings of hostility against the church.

Yet another important difference between the two novels lies in Luna's emphasis on tying up loose ends. We know that in the first _Lazarillo_ the protagonist leaves the blind man for dead, not knowing what happened to him, and we never do find out whether he survived the blow or not. Later the squire runs away from Lazaro, and we never see him again either. The author of the first _Lazarillo_ gives us a series of vignettes in which the psychological interplay of the characters is stressed. The characters fade out of Lazaro's life just as people fade in and out of our own lives. Luna, however, was much more interested in telling a good story--and one that has an ending. So the squire appears, and tells what happened to him after leaving Lazaro: a complete story in itself. He steals Lazaro's clothes and runs off, and later we see him again--having got his just retribution almost by pure chance. The innkeeper's daughter runs off with her priest, and both turn up several chapters later; their account amounts to another short story. The "innocent" girl and the bawd disappear, then return to play a scene with Lazaro once more, and finally they fade out, presumably to live by their wits ever after. Related to this stress on external action is the importance Luna gives to descriptive rather than psychological detail. His minutely detailed descriptions of clothing are especially noteworthy: the squire's "suit"; the gallant's clothing as he emerges from the trunk; the costume worn by the girl who became a gypsy. These are descriptions we do not find in the original _Lazarillo_ because the author of that work is much more interested in internal motivations than external description and action.

Let us move on to another point: the social satire in the two novels. We have seen the satire against the various cla.s.ses, and particularly against the church, in the first _Lazarillo_. And Luna's satire has the same targets. The essential difference is in the way the two authors handle their darts. The first _Lazarillo_ is fairly subtle in its attacks: men are avaricious, materialistic unscrupulous infamous--and these vices are sometimes only very loosely connected with the church. But Luna wants us to know definitely that the church is like this, so his satire of the church is blunt and devastating. The Inquisition, he tells us plainly, is corrupt, brutal, and feared throughout all of Spain. Priests and friars are always anxious to accept a free meal, they have mistresses, and they are less principled than thieves. Lawyers and the entire judicial system are corrupt. The Spaniards, Luna tells us from his position of exile in Paris, are too proud to work, and they will become beggars rather than perform any sort of-manual labor. Lazaro himself is held up to us as a "mirror of Spanish sobriety." Apparently Luna's anger about having to leave Spain had no opportunity to mellow before he finished his novel.

Luna's _Second Part of Lazarillo of Tormes_ is not the "First Part." But even so, it has its merit. Luna liked to tell stories, and he was good at it. Some scenes are witty and highly entertaining. When Lazaro meets his old friends, the bawd and the "maiden," at an inn, the action is hardly dull. The "quarter of kid" becomes the center of attraction from the time it appears on Lazaro's plate until he falls and ejects it from his throat, and it is used skillfully and humorously to tell us a great deal about each of the characters present.

Another scene worth calling to the reader's special attention is the chapter in which a feast is held that erupts into a brawl, after which the local constabulary arrives. Luna's account is a very close predecessor of the modern farce. Many of the elements seem to be present: a lack of reverence, a situation used for comic effects, the chase through many rooms to find the guests, the beatings that the constable's men are given by the pursued, being "breaded" in flour, "fried" in oil, and left out on the street where they run away, ashamed to be seen. It is as though we are catching a glimpse of the Keystone Cops, seventeenth-century style. And the variations from seventeenth to twentieth century do not appear to amount to a great deal.

University of California at Los Angeles December 1972 ROBERT S. RUDDER

Translator's Note

My translation of the first Lazarillo follows Foulche Delbosc's edition, which attempts to restore the editio princeps but does not include the interpolations of the Alcala de Henares edition.

The translation of the first chapter of the anonymous sequel of 1555 follows at the end of the first part because it serves as a bridge between the first novel and Luna's sequel. For Juan de Luna's sequel, the modern edition by Elmer Richard Sims, more faithful to the ma.n.u.script than any other edition, has been utilized.

A word of thanks is due to Professor Julio Rodriguez Puertolas, whose own work was so often interrupted by questions from the outer sanctum, and who nevertheless bore through it all with good humor, and was very helpful in clearing up certain mysteries in the text.

The seventy-three drawings [not included in this electronic text]

were prepared by Leonard Bramer, a Dutch painter who was born in 1596 and died in 1674. Living most of his life in Delft, he is best known for his drawings and for his ill.u.s.trations of Ovid's writings and of other works of literature. The original drawings are in the keeping of the Graphische Sammlung in Munich.

R.S.R.

THE LIFE OF LAZARILLO OF TORMES, HIS FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES AS TOLD BY HIMSELF

Prologue

I think it is good that such remarkable things as these, which may never have been heard of or seen before, should come to the attention of many people instead of being buried away in the tomb of oblivion. Because it might turn out that someone who reads about them will like what he reads, and even people who only glance lightly through this book may be entertained.

Pliny says along these lines that there is no book--no matter how bad it is--that doesn't have something good in it. And this is all the more true since all tastes are not the same: what one man won't even touch, another will be dying to get. And so there are things that some people don't care for, while others do. The point is that nothing should be destroyed or thrown away unless it is really detestable; instead, it should be shown to everybody, especially if it won't do any harm and they might get some good out of it.

If this weren't so, there would be very few people who would write for only one reader, because writing is hardly a simple thing to do. But since writers go ahead with it, they want to be rewarded, not with money but with people seeing and reading their works, and if there is something worthwhile in them, they would like some praise. Along these lines too, Cicero says: "Honor promotes the arts."

Does anyone think that the first soldier to stand up and charge the enemy hates life? Of course not; a craving for glory is what makes him expose himself to danger. And the same is true in arts and letters. The young preacher gives a very good sermon and is really interested in the improvement of people's souls, but ask his grace if he minds when they tell him, "Oh, what an excellent sermon you gave today, Reverend!" And So-and-so was terrible in jousting today, but when some rascal praised him for the way he had handled his weapons, he gave him his armor. What would he have done if it had really been true?

And so everything goes: I confess that I'm no more saintly than my neighbors, but I would not mind it at all if those people who find some pleasure in this little trifle of mine (written in my crude style) would get wrapped up in it and be entertained by it, and if they could see that a man who has had so much bad luck and so many misfortunes and troubles does exist.