The Face of Spain by Gerald Brenan

Author:Gerald Brenan [Brenan, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Travel, Europe, Spain, General, Travel Writing, Essays & Travelogues
ISBN: 9781909150119
Publisher: Serif Books
Published: 2012-07-29T23:00:00+00:00

Ay amor

que se fué y no vino! . . .

Ay amor

que se fué por el aire!

♦ ♦ ♦

We drove for some distance without speaking. Then I began to explain to the chauffeur why I had come here – to visit the grave of a great poet whom I had once known.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘there has been a lot of talk about this man. The truth is that many terrible things were done during the war by both sides. I fought for Franco and I have always been loyal to him, but there is no use in disguising the fact that we lost the use of our reasons. The only difference between us was that the Reds showed more savagery and the Nationalists more self-respect. We may have shot more than they did, but at least we did not rape women or torture. We killed, y ya está – and that was that.’

And he went on to tell me of how, on entering an Andalusian village with the troops, they had found some men who had been tied alive to posts and set fire to.

‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘between us all we have brought disgrace on Spain. Once it was a happy country; now it is a miserable one, racked from end to end with hatred. One can scarcely find a family that has not had some of its members led out to death like animals. The only thing the war has done for us has been to brutalise us.’

I felt that he was speaking the thoughts of every decent person in the country, whatever his political persuasion. But when I suggested that they might at least take these bodies to the cemetery and give them Christian burial —

‘No,’ he replied, ‘let them stay where they are. There are bodies buried like this in every barranco in Spain.’

Was it certain that we had visited García Lorca’s last resting-place? I felt no absolute conviction. To resolve my doubts, I went to see a friend of the poet’s who had Falangist affiliations. From him I got a vague and confused story: the real culprits were the Clericals: the place of burial was thought to be La Conijera, a rifle range about a mile from the centre of the city. If I wished for further information, I should call on a person whose name he gave me at the Falangist headquarters. But I could not do this without risking an inquiry into my activities which might compromise the people who had talked to me. In Granada the Falange was still powerful.

I had however one last source of information open to me. I had been given the name of a well-known person in the city who, I was assured, could tell me the whole story. That evening I contrived to meet him. I was quite right, he said. García Lorca had been shot at the barranco at Víznar after being made to dig his own grave. There could be no possible doubt about it, for he had spoken to a person who had been present and who had recognised him.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.