59 pages • 1 hour read
Elizabeth Borton De TreviñoA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Juan continues to mourn Miri, but his duties eventually distract him. He often runs after Diego’s children, Paquita and Ignacia, keeping them from the studio. Hoping to entertain them, Juan sets off in search of a suitable pet. He visits Doña Trini, a local lacemaker who often strokes his many-colored coat for luck. Trini’s cat has just given birth to kittens, and Juan asks to keep a white one, the prettiest of the litter. Juan surprises Diego’s children with the kitten, whom they immediately name Mooshi. As he continues to grow, Mooshi becomes a treasured member of the family.
At the end of spring, the King commissions Diego to travel to Italy and purchase paintings for the palace, copy famous Italian works, and paint the Infanta, the King’s sister, who awaits her marriage to Ferdinand III. Diego plans to travel only with Juan, and to ease Juana’s frustration, he promises to accompany the family back to Seville, where they will stay for the duration of his and Juan’s trip. After boarding up their residence in Madrid, they depart, and Juan thinks bitterly of his journey with Don Carmelo. However, as they approach Seville, Juan is overcome with homesickness, remembering Brother Isidro. As the company settles into the Pacheco house, Diego falls ill with a headache. Once he recovers, he and Juan prepare to leave for Barcelona and then travel further to Genoa. Before they leave, Paquita embraces Juan, surprising him with her tenderness.
Aboard the boat to Barcelona, Diego is horribly seasick. When they transfer vessels en route to Genoa, he recovers, and the voyage passes smoothly. Housed in a modest inn, Juan sleeps on a pallet beside Diego’s bed, attesting to their easy companionship.
As they explore Italy, Juan notices the many differences in culture, particularly the prevalence of pickpockets. Diego remarks on the quality of light, which seems gentler and less severe than in Spain. They travel to Rome, and Juan asks if Diego plans to copy paintings as he had in Genoa. Diego says yes, explaining that by copying paintings, it is as if he’s learning from the masters.
Still desperate to paint, Juan plans to secretly copy the artwork in Rome’s galleries. He sells his mother’s gold earring to pay for proper supplies and steals small dabs of pigment from Diego’s palette. Though he regrets his dishonesty, Juan revels in the chance to paint, albeit crudely.
Diego and Juan travel to Naples to complete the Infanta’s portrait. As winter descends, they make their way to Venice. Diego resists the clothing merchants’ overtures, preferring to retain his simple black attire. Juan confesses that he prefers Diego’s understated but well-defined style to Italian luxury.
Eventually, they sail back to Seville. Upon their arrival, the family emerges to greet them, but Diego notices Ignacia’s absence. Juana confesses that Ignacia died. Inconsolable, Diego lingers in Seville, returning often to Ignacia’s grave. Juan learns that Brother Isidro has perished, too. Eventually, the King writes to summon them back to Madrid.
As Diego continues to paint the King and his court, a tentative friendship forms between Diego and his patron. Juan notices the King’s irregular jaw and lisping voice, and he pities his deep shyness. Juan often attends the King’s sittings, but the King ignores him, tending instead to a lapdog. Diego and the King also rarely talk, and Diego criticizes conversation as superficial, preferring instead to connect through his artwork.
Juan continues to practice his own painting, experimenting with color in secret. Cristobal and the other apprentices leave, but new students take their place. Juan jumps forward 14 years, to the arrival of Juan Bautista del Mazo, a handsome 20-year-old art student who enrolls in Diego’s studio. One day, Paquita visits the studio as Diego, Juan, and Juan Bautista work. Fully matured and delicately beautiful, she catches Juan Bautista’s eye almost immediately, and he hers. Juan appreciates Paquita for her gentle nature and notes her particular attention to animals and plants. One afternoon, as Juan joins her on an errand, Paquita purchases a small plant with red flowers.
Eventually, Juan Bautista approaches Juan and asks him to deliver a note to Paquita. Juan, however, anticipates trouble and refuses. When Paquita asks instead, he relents and begins to ferry their love notes, which always include a red petal from Paquita’s plant. Often, the lovers meet in the palace’s desolate art galleries, though Juan dutifully watches from afar. As love enhances Paquita’s radiance, Diego suddenly decides that she’s ready to marry. He plans to paint her so that she might court their cousins in Portugal. Though privately dismayed, Paquita consents to sit for her father. As the work progresses, Juan notices that Diego avoids painting Paquita’s face, perhaps troubled by its enigma.
Paquita and Juan Bautista continue to use Juan to arrange their meetings, to the latter’s chagrin. One day, Diego spies a note in Juan’s hand and asks to read it. Unable to refuse, Juan consents. After inspecting both the note and its red flower, Diego remains calm but corrects Paquita’s spelling and marks the note with a red “V,” signifying that he has read it. He also paints a small red flower on the note, as the original flower has withered, and orders Juan to bring it to Juan Bautista as planned. Juan delivers the note, though he wonders about Diego’s intentions. That evening, Diego and Juana bestow their blessing as Paquita and Juan Bautista cry happily. Diego completes his portrait of Paquita, adding detail to her face and embellishing her sash with a small red flower.
A year after Paquita’s wedding to Juan Bautista, Juan attends Diego as he travels north at the King’s invitation. Juan worries about leaving behind his drawings and paintings, dreading that they might be discovered. Diego supplies him with a custom safe, and Juan stores his art alongside other valuables.
Juan wishes that he could avoid the trip, as it centers around a royal hunting excursion. He cringes at any cruelty toward animals, refusing to harm even a mouse. Diego does not plan to hunt himself but will paint the King in his hunting costume, surrounded by his quarry. Unable to refuse, Juan accompanies Diego, carrying his paints and brushes through the forest. When Diego notices Juan’s sullenness, he confesses his feelings about hunting, and Diego admits that he also dislikes dead animals but suppresses his emotions in the interest of true, objective art.
One day, Juan notices that the King’s dog, Corso, looks sick. Unable to address the King directly, Juan speaks through Diego, who relays Juan’s concerns. The King allows Juan to tend to Corso. After examining him, Juan guesses that he has a parasite in his liver. To help Corso eject the parasite, Juan administers a brew of herbs, which works promptly. For his services, the King offers Juan a bag of ducats, which Diego lets him keep.
After hunting, Diego turns his attention to the palace’s little people, whom the King retains as a source of amusement. Often, they act in plays or entertain the King’s children. Juan befriends one of them, Francisco Lezcano, and often massages his legs to ease his chronic muscle pain. Lezcano observes that he and Juan share a similar social position, owing to their outward appearance. Though Lezcano is bitter, Juan trusts God’s judgment, reminding Lezcano that “he who humbles himself shall be lifted up” (113). Encouraged to unburden himself, Juan tells Lezcano about his secret painting. Lezcano pats his hand sympathetically.
Diego continues to paint the court’s resident little people, accurately rendering their disabilities. Juan initially finds the paintings cruel, but years later, he concedes that only Diego’s faithfulness could convey the sitters’ suffering.
Diego continues in his studio, only occasionally accepting new apprentices. One day, a young man approaches riding a tired mule. Simply dressed, he carries only extra clothes, painting supplies, a guitar, and letters of introduction. When Juan greets him, the man introduces himself as Bartolomé Esteban Murillo and asks to meet with Diego, hoping to begin an apprenticeship. Before Juan ushers him inside, Murillo takes time to care for his mule, which earns Juan’s respect. Much to Juan’s surprise, Murillo addresses him as “Señor Pareja.”
Inside the studio, Murillo rushes to Diego, falling on his knees. He eventually presents his letters of introduction and produces a sample of his art for Diego’s inspection. Diego looks over Murillo’s work, which depicts mostly saints and angels. When Diego correctly surmises that Murillo paints from live models, Murillo explains that he often approaches small children or random strangers, as “Christ is in each one of us” (119). Diego accepts Murillo as his new apprentice, and he works alongside Diego, learning from his technique. His merry, open-hearted nature endears him to the entire household. Diego begins inviting live models to work in the studio. While Murillo sees each person’s common connection to Christ, Diego appreciates their individuality.
In the meantime, Juan resumes painting, still stealing small amounts of color from Diego’s palette. He accompanies Murillo, a devout Christian, to Mass. Though Murillo receives Communion, Juan abstains, fearing that his deceit makes him unworthy. Murillo encourages Juan to confess his sins. Juan appreciates Murillo’s advice, noting that Murillo still honors him as “Señor Pareja” or “Juan” and never resorts to the diminutive “Juanico.”
Juan uses his earnings from the King to buy more supplies, including a quality canvas. As he worries over his sins, he begins painting the Virgin Mary, using techniques that he has gleaned from Diego’s paintings. However, as he works, a strange will overtakes him, and he paints the Virgin Mary as a Black woman. At first, Juan considers his work with pride but then turns from it in shame, fearing that he has offended God.
When Diego falls ill with a headache, Juan takes the opportunity to show Murillo his painting. Murillo looks over it carefully, and together, he and Juan seek somewhere private to talk. Murillo admires the painting’s excellent technique and wonders why Juan is so conflicted. When Juan reminds Murillo that enslaved people are forbidden from creating art, Murillo ultimately argues that Juan has not broken the law. Juan still hesitates to attend confession, fearing that a priest will demand he cease his painting. Murillo pushes back, asking Juan if it’s a sin to paint or to be enslaved. Juan characterizes slavery as an injustice, not a sin, and hopes that it will be rectified in Heaven. Furthermore, Murillo points out that the priest does not care if Juan is enslaved and insists that his painting need not be considered a sin. Encouraged, Juan goes to confession. He does not mention his painting, but he does confess to stealing Diego’s paint and vows to stop immediately.
As he and Murillo return home, Juan confesses that he wishes he could reveal his painting to Diego, but Murillo cautions him to wait for the right moment. When Juan asks Murillo if it was a mistake to depict the Virgin Mary as a Black woman, Murillo says no, explaining that “our Lord appears in many forms to loving Christian souls” (128). Spiritually content, Juan experiences true happiness.
As a novel about slavery, I, Juan de Pareja explores the nuances and subjective nature of value, emphasizing the influence of convention and personal bias. De Treviño expands upon this analysis of value to probe the novel’s moral ambiguity, particularly as it relates to Juan, his art, and the influence of Christian teachings.
Juan’s enslavement necessitates that he be ascribed a particular value relative to his usefulness to Diego and the Velázquez family. Juan approaches this pragmatically, noting that enslaved people are classified according to their respective skill sets. He explains that young men are often “trained to be valets to their owners, and the girls [are] often taught sewing and [become] skilled seamstresses” (69). Enslaved people’s identities are thus reduced to their labor or represented only through their usefulness to their respective enslavers; they are primarily valued to serve.
Juan recognizes this as it relates to his developing relationship with Diego’s family, particularly in his closeness with Diego’s daughter, Paquita. He gives her a white kitten and earns her affection. When Juan and Diego eventually depart for Italy, Paquita clings to Juan, exclaiming, “Juanico not go! Juanico not leave Paquita!” (84). Paquita’s preference touches Juan, and he swears his devotion. However, Paquita is still Diego’s daughter, and her relative position of power guarantees that any affection between her and Juan is contingent on his servitude. This is embodied in her nickname for him, “Juanico,” which is diminutive, as well as his role in her romance with Juan Bautista. When Juan Bautista arrives to apprentice under Diego, he and Paquita quickly fall in love, but their courtship’s impropriety necessitates secrecy. When Juan Bautista approaches Juan to deliver a note to Paquita, Juan refuses, worried that such “family intrigues” might cost him his life. However, when Paquita asks, Juan is forced to relent, retrospectively admitting that he “idolized her and could deny her nothing” (98). The phrase “could deny her nothing” applies metaphorically to his devotion to her and literally to his enslavement; he is not actually capable of refusal. Paquita asks Juan to carry notes between herself and Juan Bautista so that they can arrange meetings in the palace’s deserted art gallery. Though Juan has attested to an enslaved person’s conventional exclusion from the family’s affairs, Paquita offers him familial intimacy. However, Paquita does not value Juan for his affection nor offer him a more substantial place in the family to reflect a reciprocated devotion. Instead, Paquita values Juan for his usefulness and his readiness to serve, forcing him into an awkward position in pursuit of her own happiness.
Though Juan is often the subject in these negotiations of value, he employs a value system of his own, centering art first and foremost. Juan has often been skeptical of ornamentation, and in this section, he renounces it in preference for painting, even selling his mother’s gold earring—a symbol of his early life in Seville—to secretly buy art supplies. At this point in his character arc, Juan commits to the supreme value of art and prioritizes its pursuit. Indeed, as Diego and Juan travel throughout Italy, it’s clear that they both value art above more conventional riches. For instance, Juan carries only “charcoals bound in a paper, and scrubbing rags” (85), and the Italian thieves complain about their wasted efforts when they try to rob him. Similarly, when Juan stows his belongings in a custom coffer, he counts his paintings and drawings first among his few treasures, only afterward detailing his “string of bright green beads” and “scarves in brilliant stripes” (106). To store his art among these more conventional ornaments suggests Juan’s unique valuation of art, preferring its potential for true expression over the superficial beauty of trinkets. De Treviño often juxtaposes Juan and Diego’s simplicity against the Italians’ characteristic love of decoration. For instance, Juan contrasts Diego’s “sober black” with Italian tailors’ “gold and ruby brocade” and “brilliant blue silk,” ultimately preferring Diego’s “thoughtfulness” and “dignity” to the Italians’ swells of emotion (89). Though Juan criticizes Italy for its obsession with ornament, he ultimately concedes that it “live[s] for art and [can] be pardoned for any of its faults” (86). Art is still of supreme value and weighs the most significantly on judgments of character, developing the theme of The Relative Truth of Art.
As Juan secretly continues to practice art, his notions of value contribute to a moral ambiguity in which he must negotiate both his passion and Spain’s law forbidding its exercise. Juan worries that painting in secret is wrong but admits that his “guilty joy [is] tremendous” and that he struggles to “reconcile those two things in [his] mind” (87). A persistent and seemingly unanswerable question complicates Juan’s new passion: How can something so fulfilling be wrong? The contradiction highlights the way slavery and other forms of oppression rely on distortions of religious principles; Juan’s dehumanization as an enslaved person forces him to violate unjust laws, linking his pursuit of art to sin. De Treviño introduces Murillo as a counterpoint to this, once again emphasizing The Ultimate Morality of Christianity, albeit from an ahistorical perspective. From Murillo’s point of view, art may suffer from oppressive social standards, but Christianity values character, goodness, and merit. This alternative perspective on religion provides Juan with comfort and a path forward in his artistic career.