Mario Verdaguer as Battlefield: The Struggles of a Name from Public Emergence to Memorialization

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Notes1 Jacint Verdaguer is what Marijan Dović and Jón Karl Helgason call a national poet and cultural saint. His canonization entailed his induction as a “català il·lustre” by Barcelona City Hall and the dedication of streets, monuments, sculptures, and even an asteroid. Mercè Rodoreda recounted that her grandfather, “quan mossèn Cinto va morir, va fer ampliar una fotografia de mossèn Cinto, al peu hi va fer posar unes lletres amb caràcters gòtics que deien Sant Jacint Verdaguer i la va fer emmarcar de negre i or” (157).2 Verdaguer engages in self-mockery when remembering this episode: “el grupo se sintió desalentado y más llorón que nunca al ver la incomprensión y el materialismo que le rodeaban” (La ciudad 164). Sarcasm notwithstanding, the romantic/modernista vision of professional writers (and critics) as tainted by materialism, which is in turn antithetical to literary authenticity, is central to Verdaguer, as I discuss further on.3 Verdaguer encountered several people who embodied a similar internal struggle. One example is the barber and artist Antoni Gelabert, a greatly talented painter—José Carlos Llop considers him “el millor pintor que ha donat Mallorca” (La ciutat)—who was unable to produce much work and never received the esteem he deserved because he refused to sell his paintings in order to make a living and quit his job as a barber: “¿Es que te figuras que la pintura es una mercancía?” (Verdaguer, La ciudad 134). Verdaguer’s remarks about Gelabert could double as description of the protagonist of Un intelectual y su carcoma: “La lucha entre los dos elementos que habitaban dentro de aquel cuerpo feo y vulgar era verdaderamente trágica; pues se trataba de dos fuerzas antagónicas e irreconciliables, entre las cuales no podría establecerse jamás pacto alguno” (La ciudad 132).4 The character also bears resemblance with someone Verdaguer encountered in real life: “El poeta García Rover, que trabajaba como tipógrafo en la imprenta de ‘La Almudaina’” (La ciudad 138).5 While not politically focused, Verdaguer’s works do contain some critiques to Marxism (El marido 57), the Dictatorship of Primo de Rivera, and Catholic pundits (Un intelectual 63–64). His review of Rafael Campalans’s Hacia la España de todos (1932) suggests that he harbored favorable views toward Iberianism (“Hacia la España de todos” 1)—views that transcended the strictly cultural realm, which he contributed to in the capacity of editor-in-chief of the journal Mundo ibérico (1927).6 For a comprehensive account of the events, see the Crònica del Centenari de Màrius Verdaguer available at the Bilbioteca de Catalunya (F 08–Fol 10).7 Aina and Nina Moll’s father, Francesc de Borja Moll, had played a crucial role in maintaining the flame of Catalan language and culture alive in the Balearic Islands after the Civil War through his work to complete the Diccionari català-valencià-balear and the founding of Obra Cultural Balear in 1962. In addition, he successfully encouraged formerly Falangist Mallorcans such as Llorenç Villalonga to re-enter the Catalan-language fold, a cultural leadership mission that Aina Moll continued in democratic times. Aina Moll provided a comprehensive account of her father’s commitment to Catalan in her biographic book Francesc de Borja Moll. La fidelitat tossuda (2003).8 The influence of the document approved by the Parliament of Catalonia on the Llei de Normalització Lingüística de les Illes Balears (1986) can hardly be overstated.9 The countering of the civil registry is exemplified best by the Ajuntament de Maó’s profile of Verdaguer in its “Gallery of Distinguished Minorcans,” which provides a footnote reference to the author’s birth registry—where he figures as “Mario”—only to affirm that “[h]e was registered with the names of Màrius, Segismundo, Cayetano, Luis, and Antonio” (“Màrius Verdaguer Travesí”). Despite the historical accuracy effected by way of reference to the civil registry, the fact that the name “Màrius” is the only one spelled in Catalan reveals its normative amendment.10 For a study of the Francoist and post-Francoist periods, see Crameri (Language).11 In contrast with Medio siglo, La ciudad desvanecida includes a few samples of oral Catalan, but these do not amount to more than an exception confirming the general rule of non-representation.