Camilo José Cela La familia de Pascual Duarte [The Family of ... ] Translation by Anthony Kerrigan Edición bilingÜe, español- inglés, de Miguel Garci-Gomez. Dept. Romance Stydies. Duke. U. --
II
De mi niñez no son precisamente buenos recuerdos los que guardo.	My CHILDHOOD MEMORIES are not exactly pleasant.
Mi padre se llamaba Esteban Duarte Diniz, y era portugués, cuarentón cuando yo niño, y alto y gordo como un monte. Tenía la color tostada y un estupendo bigote negro que se echaba para abajo.	My father′s name was Esteban Duarte Diniz. He was Portuguese, in his forties when I was a child, and tall and huge as a hill. His skin was tanned by the sun and he wore a great black mustache which turned down.
Según cuentan, cuando joven le tiraban las guías para arriba, pero, desde que estuvo en la cárcel, se le arruinó la prestancia, se le ablandó la fuerza del bigote y ya para abajo hubo que llevarlo hasta el sepulcro.	They said that when he was younger this splendid handlebar mustache had turned up. But after a stretch in prison, he lost his jaunty air, the force went out of his mustache, and he wore it fallen down forever into the tomb.
Yo le tenía un gran respeto y no poco miedo, y siempre que podía escurría el bulto y procuraba no tropezármelo; era áspero y brusco y no toleraba que se le contradijese en nada, manía que yo respetaba por la cuenta que me tenía. Cuando se enfurecía, cosa que le ocurría con mayor frecuencia de lo que se necesitaba, nos pegaba a mi madre y a mí las grandes palizas por cualquiera la cosa, palizas que mi madre procuraba devolverle por ver de corregirlo, pero ante las cuales a mí no me quedaba sino resignación dados mis pocos años. ¡Se tienen las carnes muy tiernas a tan corta edad!	I had great respect for him, but even more fear, and whenever I could, I ducked out and tried not to run into him. He was curt and gruff in speech, and brooked no contradiction, a mania I also respected because it was to my advantage to do so. When he got into a rage, which he did more often than need be, he set upon my mother and me and gave us a good drubbing for the least little thing. My mother would do her best to pay him back in kind, to see if she could break his habit, but at my age there was nothing for me but resignation. A child′s flesh is such a tender thing!
Ni con él ni con mi madre me atreví nunca a preguntar de cuando lo tuvieron encerrado, porque pensé que mayor prudencia sería el no meter los perros en danza, que ya por sí solos danzaban más de lo conveniente; claro es que en realidad no necesitaba preguntar nada porque como nunca faltan almas caritativas, y menos en los pueblos de tan corto personal, gentes hubo a quienes faltó tiempo para venir a contármelo todo. Lo guardaron por contrabandista; por lo visto había sido su oficio durante muchos años, pero como el cántaro que mucho va a la fuente acaba por romperse, y como no hay oficio sin quiebra, ni atajo sin trabajo, un buen día, a lo mejor cuando menos lo pensaba -que la confianza es lo que pierde a los valientes-, le siguieron los carabineros, le descubrieron el alijo, y lo mandaron a presidio. De todo esto debía hacer ya mucho tiempo, porque yo no me acuerdo de nada; a lo mejor ni había nacido.	I never ventured to ask either him or my mother about the time he was locked up, for it seemed to me that it was the better part of prudence to let sleeping dogs lie, especially since they woke up of their own accord more often than was desirable. The truth is that I didn′t really need to ask any questions because there are always charitable souls about, even more than average in such a small town, people who couldn′t wait to tell everything. He had been put away for running contraband. Apparently this had been his work for many years, but just as the jug that goes to the fountain too often gets broken at last, and since there is no work without drawbacks, nor shortcut without strain, one fine day, doubtless when he was least expecting it - for self-confidence betrays the brave - the border guards followed him, uncovered the booty, and locked him up. All this must have happened a long time before, for I remembered none of it. Perhaps I was not yet born.
Mi madre, al revés que mi padre, no era gruesa, aunque andaba muy bien de estatura; era larga y chupada y no tenía aspecto de buena salud, sino que, por el contrario, tenía la tez cetrina y las mejillas hondas y toda la presencia o de estar tísica o de no andarle muy lejos; era también desabrida y violenta, tenía un humor que se daba a todos los diablos y un lenguaje en la boca que Dios le haya perdonado, porque blasfemaba las peores cosas a cada momento y por los más débiles motivos. Vestía siempre de luto y era poco amiga del agua, tan poco que si he de decir la verdad, en todos los años de su vida que yo conocí, no la vi lavarse más que en una ocasión en que mi padre la llamó borracha y ella quiso como demostrarle que no le daba miedo el agua.	My mother was quite different from my father. She was not at all heavy, though quite tall. In fact, she was long and gaunt, and never looked as if she were well. She had a sallow complexion, sunken cheeks, and looked consumptive, or not far from it. She was also violent tempered and surly, and grew furious at anything at all. Her mouth was filled with language that only God could forgive, for she used the worst blasphemy every other moment. She was always dressed in the black of mourning, and she was no friend of water. In fact she cared for it so little that if truth be told, in all the years of her life I saw her wash herself only once, when my father called her a drunkard and she tried to prove to him that water didn′t frighten her any more than wine.
El vino en cambio ya no le disgustaba tanto y siempre que apañaba algunas perras, o que le rebuscaba el chaleco al marido, me mandaba a la taberna por una frasca que escondía, porque no se la encontrase mi padre, debajo de la cama. Tenía un bigotillo cano por las esquinas de los labios, y una pelambrera enmarañada y zafia que recogía en un moño, no muy grande, encima de la cabeza. Alrededor de la boca se le notaban unas cicatrices o señales, pequeñas y rosadas como perdigonadas, que según creo, le habían quedado de unas bubas malignas que tuviera de joven; a veces, por el verano, a las señales les volvía la vida, se les subía la color y acababan formando como alfileritos de pus que el otoño se ocupaba de matar y el invierno de barrer.	In point of fact, wine did not half displease her, and whenever she got together a few coins, or found some in her husband′s vest pockets, she would send me to the tavern to fetch a jug, which she would slip under the bed to keep it out of my father′s reach. There was a bit of gray mustache at the corners of her mouth, and she wore the thin and wiry nest of her tangled hair in a small bun on top of her head. Also in the vicinity of her mouth were some visible scars or marks, small rosy holes like buckshot wounds, which were, it seems, the leftovers of some youthful buboes. Sometimes, in the summer, a bit of life stirred in the scars. Their color deepened and they would form festering pinpricks of pus. The fall would wipe them out, and winter would bury them again.
Se llevaban mal mis padres; a su poca educación se unía su escasez de virtudes y su falta de conformidad con lo que Dios les mandaba -defectos todos ellos que para mi desgracia hube de heredar-y esto hacía que se cuidaran bien poco de pensar los principios y de refrenar los instintos, lo que daba lugar a que cualquier motivo, por pequeño que fuese, bastara para desencadenar la tormenta que se prolongaba después días y días sin que se le viese el fin. Yo, por lo general, no tomaba el partido de ninguno porque si he de decir verdad tanto me daba el que cobrase el uno como el otro; unas veces me alegraba de que zurrase mi padre y otras mi madre, pero nunca hice de esto cuestión de gabinete.	My father and mother didn′t get along at all. They had been badly brought up, were endowed with no special virtues, and could not resign themselves to their lot. And their defects, all of them, I inherited, to my misfortune. They were little disposed to think in terms of principles or to put reins on their instincts. So that any circumstance, anything whatever, however small, brought on a storm, which would rage for days, with no end ever in sight. In general I never took either one′s side. The truth was that it was all the same to me whether one or the other got thrashed. Sometimes I was glad to see my mother get it, sometimes my father, but I was never asked for my vote either way.
Mi madre no sabía leer ni escribir; mi padre sí, y tan orgulloso estaba de ello que se lo echaba en cara cada lunes y cada martes y, con frecuencia y aunque no viniera a cuento, solía llamarla ignorante, ofensa gravísim a para mi madre, que se ponía como un basilisco. Algunas tardes venía mi padre para casa con un papel en la mano y, quisiéramos que no, nos sentaba a los dos en la cocina y nos leía las noticias; venían después los comentarios y en ese momento yo me echaba a temblar porque estos comentarios eran siempre el principio de alguna bronca. Mi madre, por ofenderlo, le decía que el papel no decía nada de lo que leía y que todo lo que decía se lo sacaba mi padre de la cabeza, y a éste, el oírla esa opinión le sacaba de quicio; gritaba como si estuviera loco, la llamaba ignorante y bruja y acababa siempre diciendo a grandes voces que si él supiera decir esas cosas de los papeles a buena hora se le hubiera ocurrido casarse con ella. Ya estaba armada. Ella le llamaba desgraciado y peludo, lo tachaba de hambriento y portugués, y él, como si esperara a oír esa palabra para golpearla, se sacaba el cinturón y la corría todo alrededor de la cocina hasta que se hartaba. Yo, al principio, apañaba algún cintarazo que otro, pero cuando tuve más experiencia y aprendí que la única manera de no mojarse es no estando a la lluvia, lo que hacía, en cuanto veía que las cosas tomaban mal cariz, era dejarlos solos y marcharme. Allá ellos.	My mother could neither read nor write. My father could, and he made an issue of it and never missed a chance to rub it in at every turn, and often, though it might have nothing to do with the matter in hand, he would call her an ignoramus, a word which cut my mother to the quick, sent her into a towering rage, and made her hiss like a basilisk. Sometimes of an evening my father would come home with a newspaper in his hand and, whether we liked it or not, he would sit us both down in the kitchen and would read us out the news. Next would come the commentaries, and the moment they began I would begin to tremble, for they were always the beginning of a brawl. My mother, by way of starting him off, would say that there was nothing in the paper resembling what he had read out, and that everything he′d said had come out of his head. This view of things would send my father off his rocker. He′d yell like a madman, call her an ignorant witch, and always end up by shouting that if he really did know how to invent such things as were in the paper he would scarcely have thought of marrying the likes of her. Now the battle was joined. She′d call him a hairy ape, and denounce him for a starving Portuguee. He seemed to have been waiting for this very word to begin pounding her, and when the word came he′d rip off his belt and chase her around the kitchen until he was exhausted. At first I used to come in for a few chance swipes, but after a bit of experience I learned that the only way not to get wet is to get in out of the rain and so as soon as I saw things getting bad, I left them to themselves and took off. It was their funeral!
La verdad es que la vida en mi familia poco tenía de placentera, pero como no nos es dado escoger, sino que ya -y aun antes de nacer- estamos destinados unos a un lado y otros a otro, procuraba conformarme con lo que me había tocado, que era la única manera de no desesperar. De pequeño, que es cuando más manejable resulta la voluntad de los hombres, me mandaron una corta temporada a la escuela; decía mi padre que la lucha por la vida era muy dura y que había que irse preparando para hacerla frente con las únicas armas con las que podíamos dominarla, con las armas de la inteligencia. Me decía todo esto de un tirón y como aprendido, y su voz en esos momentos me parecía más velada y adquiría unos matices insospechados para mí. Después, y como arrepentido, se echaba a reír estrepitosamente y acababa siempre por decirme, casi con cariño:	The truth is that life in my family had little to recommend it. But since we are not given a choice, but rather destined -even from before birth - to go some of us one way, some the other, I did my best to accept my fate, which was the only way to avoid desperation. When I was very young, which is the age when one′s mind is most manageable, they sent me to school for a short spell. My father said the struggle for life was very grim, and that it was necessary to prepare to face up to it with the only arms useful in the battle, the weapons of the intellect. He reeled off this advice as if he had learned it by heart. At such times his voice seemed less gruff, almost veiled, and it would take on intonations completely new to me . . . Afterwards, as if repenting of what he had just said, he would burst into a loud laugh. He always ended up by telling me, almost affectionately:
-No hagas caso, muchacho. ¡Ya voy para viejo!	"Don′t pay me any heed, boy . . . I′m getting old!"
Y se quedaba pensativo y repetía en voz baja una y otra vez:	And he′d stay lost in thought for a bit, repeating under his breath,
-¡Ya voy para viejo... ! ¡Ya voy para viejo...!	"I′m getting old! . . . I′m getting old !"
Mi instrucción escolar poco tiempo duró. Mi padre, que, como digo, tenía un carácter violento y autoritario para algunas cosas, era débil y pusilánime para otras: en general tengo observado que el carácter de mi padre sólo lo ejercitaba en asuntillos triviales, porque en las cosas de trascendencia, no sé si por temor o por qué, rara vez hacía hincapié.	My schooling was of short duration. My father, who had a violent and bullying temper in some things, as I′ve shown, was weak-minded in others. It was plain to see that he exercised his will only in trifling matters, and that, whether from fear or from some other reason, he rarely took a firm stand in matters of larger importance.
Mi madre no quería que fuese a la escuela y siempre que tenía ocasión, y aun a veces sin tenerla, solía decirme que para no salir en la vida de pobre no valía la pena aprender nada. Dio en terreno abonado, porque a mí tampoco me seducía la asistencia a las clases, y entre los dos, y con la ayuda del tiempo, acabamos convenciendo a mi padre que optó porque abandonase los estudios. Sabía ya leer y escribir, y sumar y restar, y en realidad para manejarme ya tenía bastante. Cuando dejé la escuela tenía doce años; pero no vayamos tan de prisa, que todas las cosas quieren su orden y no por mucho madrugar amanece más temprano.	My mother did not want me in school, and whenever she had the opportunity, and often even when she had to force the issue, would tell me that it was no use learning anything if I was never to rise out of poverty anyway. She sowed in a fertile field, for I wasn′t a bit amused by the idea of attending classes. Between the two of us, and with the help of a little time, we finally convinced my father, who cast the deciding vote in favor of my giving up my studies. I had already learned how to read and write, and how to add and subtract, so that in reality I had enough knowledge to take care of myself. I was twelve when I quit school. But I′d better not go so fast in my story, for all things want their order, and no matter how early one gets up, dawn doesn′t come any sooner.
Era yo de bien corta edad cuando nació mi hermana Rosario. De aquel tiempo guardo un recuerdo confuso y vago y no sé hasta qué punto relataré fielmente lo sucedido; voy a intentarlo, sin embargo, pensando que si bien mi relato pueda pecar de impreciso, siempre estará más cerca de la realidad que las figuraciones que, de imaginación y a ojo de buen cubero, pudiera usted hacerse.	I was still very young when my sister Rosario was born. My memory of that time is confused and vague, and so I don′t know how faithfully my recollection will be but I will try to relate what happened, nevertheless, for even if my narrative comes out rather uncertainly, it will still be closer to reality than anything your imagination or your guesswork could produce for itself.
Me acuerdo de que hacía calor la tarde en que nació Rosario; debía ser por julio o agosto. El campo estaba en calma y agostado y las chicharras, con sus sierras, parecían querer limarle los huesos a la tierra; las gentes y las bestias estaban recogidas y el sol, allá en lo alto, como señor de todo, iluminándolo todo, quemándolo todo... Los partos de mi madre fueron siempre muy duros y dolorosos; era medio machorra y algo seca y el dolor era en ella superior a sus fuerzas. Como la pobre nunca fue un modelo de virtudes ni de dignidades y como no sabía sufrir y callar, como yo, lo resolvía todo a gritos. Llevaba ya gritando varias horas cuando nació Rosario, porque -para colmo de desdichas- era de parto lento. Ya lo dice el refrán: mujer de parto lento y con bigote... (la segunda parte no la escribo en atención a la muy alta persona a quien estas líneas van dirigidas).	I remember that it was hot the afternoon Rosario was born. A day in midsummer. The fields were parched and still and the crickets seemed bent on cutting the earth′s bones with their rasping saws. Men and beasts were in out of the heat, and the sun, up there in the sky, lord and master of everything, was throwing light on everything, burning everything . . . My mother′s childbed labor was always very difficult and painful. She was half barren and a bit withered and the pain in her was superior to her strength. Since the poor woman had never been a model of virtue or of dignity, and had not learned to suffer in silence, even as I had, she resolved all questions by screaming. She had been howling for se-v•eral hours when Rosario was born. To make matters worse, she always had a slow delivery. As the proverb has it : A mustached woman who′s slow to bear . . . ( I don′t give the second part, out of respect for the high person to whom these pages are addressed . )
Asistía a mi madre una mujer del pueblo, la señora Engracia, la del Cerro, especialista en duelos y partera, medio bruja y un tanto misteriosa, que había llevado consigo unas mixturas que aplicaba en el vientre de mi madre para aplacarla la dolor, pero como ésta, con ungÜento o sin él, seguía dando gritos hasta más no poder, a la señora Engracia no se le ocurrió mejor cosa que tacharla de descreída y mala cristiana, y como en aquel momento los gritos de mi madre arreciaban como el vendaval, yo llegué a pensar si no sería cierto que estaba endemoniada. Mi duda poco duró porque pronto quedó esclarecido que la causa de las desusadas voces había sido mi nueva hermana.	My mother was attended by a midwife from the village, Senora Engracia, from the Hill, who specialized in births and burials. She was something of a witch, full of mystery, and she had brought along some concoctions which she applied to my mother′s belly to ease the pain. But since my mother, with or without concoctions on her belly, went on howling her lungs out, Señora Engracia could think of nothing better than to call her an unbeliever and a bad Christian. Just then my mother′s howls rose to the proportions of a tempest, and I began to wonder if she really wasn′t bedeviled after all. But I was not left wondering long, for it soon became apparent that the gale of screams had been caused by the coming forth of my new sister.
Mi padre llevaba ya un largo rato paseando a grandes zancadas por la cocina. Cuando Rosario nació se arrimó hasta la cama de mi madre y sin consideración ninguna de la circunstancia, la empezó a llamar bribona y zorra y a arrearle tan fuertes hebillazos que extrañado estoy todavía de que no la haya molido viva. Después se marchó y tardó dos días enteros en volver; cuando lo hizo venía borracho como una bota; se acercó a la cama de mi madre y la besó; mi madre se dejaba besar... Después se fue a dormir a la cuadra.	My father had been pacing about the kitchen in great strides for some time. As soon as Rosario was born, he came up to my mother′s bed and, without the least regard for her situation, began to call her a hussy and a slut and to slash at her with the buckle-end of his belt with such violence that to this day I am surprised he did not finish her off then and there. Then he marched out and was gone for two days. When he did come home, he was drunk as a skunk. He staggered to my mother′s bed and kissed her. She let him kiss her. Then he made for the stable to sleep it off.