The Spanish Bow
The Spanish Bow
Andromeda Romano-Lux
Thou were not born in vain!
Hast not lived in vain.
Suffered in vain.
What has come into being must perish.
What has perished must rise again.
Cease from trembling.
Prepare thyself to live.
Gustave Mahler, Second Symphony
Who among us has not made bad choices, or at least things we might have done differently?
We live with regrets—coping in our way, or not coping very well at all. Was it Alexander Pope who wrote how each of us has an allotted span of years but how many of us are truly alive during that span?
The attacks on September 11, 2001 served as an inspiration for any number of artistic works but The Spanish Bow must surely be one of the most unusual. Andromeda Romano-Lux was a journalist working on a biography of Pablo Casals when the tragic events of 9/11 caused her to question her modus vivendi. Like many Americans, she was jerked awake. “If I could do only one more thing with my life,” she pondered, “if I could write about one more thing—what would it be?”
As she tried to piece together an answer to these questions she found that she had the necessary materials already at hand: the life of Casal and another Spanish musician, pianist Isaac Albeniz. Their fictional counterparts in The Spanish Bow—cellist Feliu Delargo and pianist Justo Al-Cerraz—bear only superficial resemblances to the real life figures who inspired them. Casals, like Feliu, was born in Catalan and had pro-Republica views. He also possessed a gem-studded bow. Delargo’s bow features a sapphire presented to the cellist while he served at the cort of King Alonso and Queen Ena in the days before the monarchy was toppled in a military coup. The Queen herself, granddaughter of Queen Victoria, presented Feliu with this keepsake for his dutiful service to her and her husband, and along with the bow it became the one possession he retained throughout the turbulent years to come. For the years of political anarchy in Spain paved the way for the rise of Franco. As elsewhere in Europe, Fascism in Spain threatened to destroy everything that stood in its way, especially artists and the intelligentsia.
Music is an all-encompassing passion for Feliu Delargo. Ever since the bow arrived at the Delargo household among the effects of his dead father when he was a young boy, Feliu knew that he was destined to play the cello. It brought him advancement, from his obscure origins in a dusty, seaside town, to an academy in Barcelona, and finally to the Cort in Madrid, where he became one of the Queen’s favorites. Whatever his surroundings he played with passion, losing himself to time an space. His collaboration with Al-Cerraz, who had a prodigious talent not just for his chosen instrument but for survival, enabled the duo to get by in the anarchic years following the abdication of the throne. Until, with the rise of Franco, they were forced to flee.
In Paris their musical skills brought them worldwide renown. In fact so great was Delargos’ fame that Hitler and Goerring were devoted fans. In the novel’s denoument, Delargo agrees to play at an historic meeting between Franco and Hitler, though it is against everything he stands for, in order to facilitate the escape of Al-Cerraz and the woman they both love, an Italian violinist who is also Jewish, named Aviva. She dies attempting to escape and Al-Cerraz vanishes. Feliu spends the remainder of his life in obscurity living in exile in Cuba, until Aviva’s son, who was taken from her at birth, tracks him down and gets him to relate his story. It happens that Feliu has been holding another secret, an unpublished musical manuscript by his old partner, Justo Al-Caerraz.
Throughout the novel the author poses the question, also born from the events of 9/11, but applicable to any time when the earth appears to stay poised on its axis and the forces of darkness and light compete for dominance: in difficult times, is art an indulgence or a necessity? Delargo and Al-Cerraz offer point-counterpoint to the question, but it is the author who offers the final word. When the Museo de Musica in Madrid opened after the monarchy is restored in Spain in the mid 70’s, Delargo’s bow is received into the collection. At the same time, Al-Cerraz’s triumphant Spanish Piano piece is played for the first time in public. This climax, along with the recurring motife from Mahler’s Second Symphony, “Prepare thyself to live,” are clear affirmations of the importance of art in the most troubled times.