SOME CONSIDERATIONS ON MODERN SPANISH FICTION 145 



Spain {la hermana San Sulpicio, Seville; los majos de Cadiz, Cadiz; 

 la alegria del capitdn Ribot, Valencia). Blasco Ibanez, the foremost 

 writer of the moment, was born in the charming huerta of Valencia, 

 and he has always dwelt with delight upon the customs which he 

 observed in boyhood (Arroz y tartana, Cuentos valencianos, la Barraca). 

 His realism was sometimes modeled too closely after Zola, and latterly 

 "he has strayed a little after poKtical gods; but his best is extremely 

 good. In the galaxy of remarkable noveHsts whom Spain has pro- 

 duced within the last forty years, Perez Galdos alone cannot be called 

 regional. A born story-teller, a militant progressive, his novels 

 cover a wide range of history, social problems and eccentricities of 

 character; but he is not the product of any school. 



Might it not be that the Spanish novels, having their roots deep 

 in national character and tradition, will outlast the school productions 

 of France? The hterary history of the past teaches that oblivion 

 loves books manufactured according to a theory almost as well as it 

 does occasional poetry. At least nine- tenths of Zola is dead already; 

 Flaubert's impeccable workmanship hardly suffices to counter- 

 balance his lack of spontaneity. Even Balzac, that creative giant, 

 carries an inconceivable weight of dross upon his shoulders. Per- 

 sonally, I feel that Perez Galdos and Palacio Valdes and Blasco 

 Ibanez at their best can be placed beside the famous French novelists 

 without suffering in the comparison. If their technique never attains 

 the extreme GalHc perfection, their matter is saner and in better taste, 

 since it does not spring from a preconceived theory of dubious value. 



In the field of the short story alone, the French show undoubted 

 superiority. There have been numerous collections of Spanish 

 short stories placed on the market for school use within recent years, 

 and one who reads them cannot but be impressed by the unevenness 

 of their material. A few numbers possess high literary merit; but 

 in order to round out the required sum of pages the editors have 

 included stories so weak that it is impossible to imagine their being 

 admitted to a similar French collection. Spain has not yet given 

 birth to any distinctive short story writers equal to Merimee, Gautier 

 and de Maupassant, 



