56 pages • 1 hour read
Carmen LaforetA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Andrea, a young orphan who grew up in a Spanish provincial convent, has earned a full scholarship to study at a Barcelona university. She leaves the small town where she has lived to move in with her grandmother’s family at an apartment on Calle de Aribau: a once well-off street on the outskirts of Barcelona. She departs with excitement and high expectations for her new life, having pleasant memories of the city from visits during her childhood.
After arriving in Barcelona on a late night train, Andrea heads to her family’s Calle de Aribau apartment by way of “one of those old horse-drawn carriages that have reappeared since the war” (4). A dirty, chaotic “nightmare” (5) of worn surfaces, dim lighting, and piled furniture, greets Andrea. The atmosphere is nothing at all like her romantic expectations or memories. Her family feels equally strange. There is her grandmother, who is kind, but disturbingly thin; her Uncle Juan, an aspiring but untalented painter; a ghoulish maid named Antonia; Juan’s pretty wife, Gloria, a young woman with “disheveled red hair” (6); and Aunt Angustias, a towering and foreboding Catholic woman.
Aunt Angustias sends everyone in the household back to bed as Andrea showers in a bathroom “like a witch’s house” (8). Andrea then sleeps in a makeshift sofa bed amidst piles of furniture in the living room. She notes that some of the furniture appears to be very valuable, despite its careless treatment. Through an open window, she smells the stink of stray cats and sees three stars “trembling in the soft blackness overhead” (9). The stars make her briefly nostalgic, reminding her of “all [her] hopes regarding Barcelona until the moment [she] entered this atmosphere of perverse people and furniture” (9).
When Andrea wakes up the next morning, she gazes at a portrait of her grandmother and now-deceased grandfather in their youth. Andrea contemplates the similarities between her own failed expectations and the dreams of Barcelona her grandmother might’ve experienced when she was young. She imagines what it was like for her grandmother to see the apartment for the first time, when “the world was optimistic” (11) and her grandparents loved each other. Her grandparents “were the first tenants in this apartment on Calle de Aribau, which was just beginning to take shape then” (11). The drastic changes that transpired after the war have so fundamentally altered the country, that both her grandfather and the young version of her grandmother in the portrait are long dead.
After her grandfather’s death three years ago, the family divided the apartment and sold the other half out of financial necessity. Thus, the workers who plastered over connecting doors simply piled her grandmother’s old furniture and trinkets into a heap.
Angustias invites Andrea into her room, which by contrast is tidy and features a massive foreboding crucifix. Angustias expresses concerns over how Andrea was raised during the two years of her childhood when she lived with a cousin on her father’s side of the family. Angustias feels responsible for molding Andrea into feminine deference and delivers an ominous speech warning Andrea about the bad influence of her new surroundings: “Cities, my child, are hell. And in all of Spain no city resembles hell more than Barcelona […] Total prudence in one’s conduct in not enough, for the devil disguises himself in tempting ways…A young girl in Barcelona must be like a fortress” (15).
Angustias also advises Andrea that her state-funded allowance of two hundred pesetas a month won’t be sufficient to cover her expenses, implying that Andrea should feel indebted to her. She pointedly tells her that Andrea didn’t earn a scholarship because she deserves it, but because she is an orphan. Angustias then expounds on her opinions of other family members, expressing a particular aversion to the ostensibly improperly behaved Gloria: “Your uncle Juan has married an absolutely inappropriate woman. A woman who is ruining his life. Andrea, if I find out one day that you are her friend, you can be certain I’ll be very displeased, and very sorry…” (16).
The rest of the family and their pets, including Antonia’s dog Trueno, a shrieking parrot, Gloria’s baby, and Andrea’s Uncle Román, join them for breakfast in the dining room. Andrea notes that Román, a once-renowned and reputedly gifted musician, looks intelligent. Over breakfast, Román accuses Gloria of looking at him strangely, and Juan launches into a furious tirade, threatening to kill Román. Though Andrea’s grandmother ends the argument, Andrea gets the feeling that this is just one of many day-to-day arguments that erupt in the household.
Angustias obsessively views Andrea as a project, following her around, incessantly asking after her well-being, and, above all, critiquing her behavior. Meanwhile, Román, Juan, and Gloria continue to bicker over ambiguous old tensions as their mother adds fuel to the fire.
Gloria attempts to befriend Andrea, extolling her own beauty and goodness for putting up with Juan’s family members. Gloria takes pains to emphasize that despite his shouting, Juan a good man. Andrea is drawn to Gloria not for her conversation, however, but for the beauty of her body, which she observes one afternoon when her Uncle Juan paints her in the nude. Andrea observes that Juan’s painting is crude and artless compared with the "subtle, diluted intelligence along the warm surface of her perfect skin […] This call of the spirit that attracts us in exceptional people, in works of art” (25).
Andrea talks more often with Gloria, learning that Gloria believes Román is a bad person who has harmed her. Though Gloria does not explain the injury he has caused, she worries that Andrea will find him appealing enough to dismiss any explanation Gloria offers.
Andrea claims not to find Román fascinating, but she relishes the infrequent nights he becomes amiable and invites her to his room in an alcove above the rest of the apartment. Andrea describes this nook as comfortable and elegant, a haven which feels as separate from the rest of the living space as Angustias’s room. Román purposefully keeps himself apart because “It seems the air [downstairs] is always filled with shouting…and the things are responsible for that, they’re asphyxiated, grief-stricken, heavy with sadness […] Our arguments and shouting don’t have a cause, and they don’t lead to any conclusion…” (26). He then slyly inquires about Andrea’s impression of the family.
Román plays the violin for Andrea, and Andrea is awestruck by the beauty of his playing. Eager to gain her approval, Román asks, “What does the music say to you?” Andrea finds herself frustratingly incapable of articulate response, repeating, “Nothing, I don’t know, I just like it” (28).
As Andrea leaves Román’s room, she notices Gloria running down the staircase, presumably to leave the apartment in secret.
Time moves strangely in the Calle de Aribau household, and Andrea describes how unpleasantly time slips by: “Days filled with stories, too many troubled stories […] Stories too dark for me. Their smell, the rotting smell of my house, caused a kind of nausea in me.…And yet they had become the only interest in my life” (31). She transcribes a conversation between her grandmother and Gloria as an example of a dreamlike day lost in storytelling.
Andrea’s grandmother waxes about her love for Román and Juan, noting that she prized them over her four estranged daughters. The grandmother claims that Román is also jealous of her love for Gloria, while Gloria counters that once Román was in love with her. Gloria met Juan in the middle of the Spanish Civil War, and he brought her to the apartment on Calle de Aribau. Tt the time, Angustias was secretly seeing her boss, a married man named Don Jerónimo.
Gloria and the grandmother also talk about life during the war, when Román was a Communist spy. Gloria recalls how Juan brought her to a romantic town by the ocean, eager to introduce her to his brother, and she overheard Román “urging Juan to pass over to the Nationalists” (35). Gloria expresses horror at the idea of Juan joining a political movement while she was pregnant with his child.
As Gloria speaks of a past romance between her and Román—when he was “very lovable” and often “played things [on the piano] like he does for you now” (36)—the grandmother repeatedly deflects, appearing to be in denial about their relationship. At times in the conversation, she seems alternately lucid and softly disapproving, and possibly senile and oblivious.
The two women also jointly recount how the police came to seize Román, and the maid Antonia, who is in love with Román, testified on his behalf and saved him from being shot. The grandmother remembers a Republican militiaman coming to search the house—she responded by showing him “all [her] saints” (37).
Andrea falls asleep and develops a sudden feverish sickness. While she is ill, Román slips into the living room and plays the piano for her: an ode he wrote to Xochipilli, the Aztec god of art. That night, Andrea has a fever dream about Gloria watching Juan transforming into Xochipilli. In the dream, Gloria’s face grows animated, and Andrea suddenly recognizes Xochipilli as her Uncle Román.
Aunt Angustias criticizes Andrea for walking too much around Barcelona and wearing out her shoes. Angustias particularly warns her against wandering alone through the Barrio Chino, with its “[l]oose women, thieves, and the glitter of the devil” (43). This cautionary speech, however, only serves to make the Barrio Chino more attractive to Andrea. Her period of getting along with Angustias is ending because she wishes to “embark upon a new life” (44).
At the university, a magnetic and wealthy young woman named Ena befriends Andrea. Andrea is thrilled by the friendship, but is initially anxious about their class difference, bemoaning that she feels “badly dressed, reeking of bleach and harsh kitchen soap, next to Ena’s well-cut dress and the soft perfume of her hair” (46). Their class difference, however, doesn’t bother Ena, who thirsts for experience with people outside of her sphere.
One day, Ena remarks that a famous musician lives on Calle de Aribau and shares Andrea’s last name. Andrea confesses that he is her uncle, but she had no idea of his reputation beyond their household. Though Andrea wants to tell Ena more about her life with her relatives, she refrains because when put into words this life seems stupid.
Back at home, Andrea wishes to tell Román that her classmate has heard of him, but discovers that he is gone on mysterious business (which we later learn is likely smuggling goods on the black market). When Román eventually returns, he appears disheveled and sunburned. When Angustias suspiciously asks where he has been, Román slyly retaliates by alluding to Angustias’s ongoing affair with Don Jerónimo. Angustias appears strangely pained by his words.
As Andrea and Ena spend more time together, Andrea feels self-conscious about the fact that Ena must pay for all their outings, and that she cannot afford luxurious gifts to return her generosity. Thus, Andrea looks through her belongings and decides to gift Ena a pretty, lace-trimmed handkerchief her grandmother gave her for first communion. When Ena receives the handkerchief, she is delighted, and her happiness makes Andrea feel the peace she imagines the rich feel.
On Christmas Eve, Andrea dresses to go to Midnight Mass with her Aunt Angustias, and is surprised when her aunt says she’d rather go by herself. On Christmas day, an argument explodes in the household when Aunt Angustias finds the handkerchief missing from Andrea’s luggage and assumes Gloria stole it. When Andrea explains that she gave it to Ena, her grandmother is very hurt, while Juan retaliates at Angustias for accusing his wife by revealing her secret affair: “And listen, you witch! […] I don’t care at all if everybody finds out that your boss’s wife has good reason to insult you on the phone, which she does sometimes, and that last night you didn’t go to Midnight Mass or anywhere near it” (56).
Mortified, Angustias timidly tells Andrea that Juan was lying about her. Andrea responds that she doesn’t believe her aunt has done anything wrong. Relieved, Angustias confesses that she is leaving the house soon, and orders her niece to return the handkerchief.
When Andrea asks why Angustias believed Gloria took the handkerchief, she says that Román had said so. In this moment, Andrea realizes the extent of Román’s strangely manipulative personality.
Two days after the family fight, Angustias leaves on a sudden trip without telling anyone where she’s going or when she’ll be back. She behaves suspiciously and orders around members of the household even more than usual. That afternoon, the doorbell rings, and Don Jerónimo enters, asking to see Andrea’s grandmother. Don Jerónimo wishes to know where Angustias has gone, offering the excuse that he needs her at work. During their conversation, Andrea’s grandmother remarks on Andrea’s strong resemblance to Román and Don Jerónimo seems uneasy about the way Andrea is looking at him.
Andrea’s grandmother claims that she doesn’t know where Angustias is, but Andrea can tell that she is lying. After Don Jerónimo leaves, Juan overhears the grandmother telling Andrea that she knows where Angustias is, and that she did not run off with Don Jerónimo. When Juan attests that he saw Angustias and Don Jerónimo kissing under the streetlight on Christmas Eve, the grandmother tells him, “things are not always what they seem” (64).
Andrea takes advantage of Angustias’s absence to sleep in her room. One night, she wakes up when Román enters the room. He excuses himself, claiming there’s “nothing […] nothing…nothing I wanted here” (64). Laforet thus insinuates that Angustias’s affair with Don Jerónimo, may be connected to Román’s mysterious—later revealed to be black market—trips.
A few days later, Andrea’s grandmother shows her some old family photos. The grandmother initially identifies a photo of her husband as Andrea’s father rather than her grandfather, and fails to recognize a photo that Andrea believes is her mother though the date on the back of the photograph is too long ago. Andrea notes the name Amalia on the back of the photo, and the book never confirms whether this is in fact the name of Andrea’s mother.
This moment questions Andrea’s parentage vaguely implying that Román or Don Jerónimo might be her father, or that Angustias might be her mother. It also unclear whether Andrea’s grandmother is simply senile, or if she’s actually guarding long-held family secrets.
That evening, Andrea once again observes Román in Angustias’s room, this time placing a packet of letters in the drawer of Angustias’s desk. Román notices her in the room and seems eager to talk. Both he and Andrea’s grandmother compare Andrea’s eyes to those of a cat. He invites her back to his room, where he intensely asks her whether she loves him. When Andrea demurs about love between nieces and uncles, Román laughs, “Idiot! Nieces of every kind don’t care at all about their uncles” (68). His meaning is ambiguous: either Román is alluding to the fact that he is not, in fact, Andrea’s uncle, or the moment is a possible romantic advance. Ena—whom we later learn is romantically involved with Román—flashes through Andrea’s mind.
Román changes the subject, declaring Andrea too naïve for whatever he wanted to reveal to her. He does, however, insinuate that his connection to Andrea goes beyond being her uncle and rests on Andrea’s unique understanding of his musicianship:
Sometimes I think you resemble me, that you understand me, that you understand the music of this house.…The first time I played the violin for you, I was trembling inside with hope, with a terrible joy when your eyes changed with the music.…I thought, little one, that you’d understand me even without words, that you were my audience, the audience I needed (70).
He laughs again and proclaims that he will offer up Juan and Gloria to Xochipilli, then wonders whether Andrea would be better off with more disordered thinking.
That evening, Ena calls Andrea on the telephone, having found the number of their Calle de Aribau apartment in the phone book.
Angustias suddenly returns late at night and catches Gloria on the stairs. Furious that Gloria has been venturing out at night, Angustias argues with both her mother, who never allowed her own daughters to go out in their youth, and with Juan, who is angry because he has to be up at five in the morning for a mysterious job. Angustias then discovers Andrea’s dress in her room and ominously orders her to resolve things in the morning.
The next morning, upon being summoned to Angustias’s room by Antonia, Andrea decides that she can endure everything except for her aunt’s control over her life. In her room, Angustias tells Andrea that she has committed “a sin of pride” (78) and that she is returning to the same convent where she had previously spent time. She tells Andrea that women on their own don’t belong in the world and that by choosing to go to a convent, she has “acted as a daughter of my family should. As your mother would have done in my position” (79).
Angustias then bemoans the fact that she has failed Andrea as a surrogate mother—for her, Andrea’s death is preferable to her being influenced by city life. Angustias makes shadowy allusions to the ways their family has changed with the traumas of the war:
‘Your grandmother was a saint, Andrea. In my youth, because of her, I lived in the purest of dreams, but now she’s gone crazy with age. And the hardships of the war that she apparently tolerated so well have made her crazy’ (80).
Once Angustias is gone, Andrea will receive her monthly allowance directly, however, on the day Don Jerónimo stops paying Angustias’s salary, the household will “suffer penury” (81).
Gloria reveals to Andrea that Juan has beaten her “black and blue” (82) for her supposed transgression the night before.
Before Angustias leaves for the convent, some of her friends come to visit and say good-bye. Andrea describes them as “a flock of crows” (83): dressed in black with odd features, communally recalling the “old days in the house” when Angustias and her sisters lived “vivacious[ly]” (83). Antonia morbidly reflects that this procession of friends is “like a wake” (86) for the dead. Andrea notes, significantly, that Don Jerónimo never comes to bid Angustias farewell.
Gloria muses that Angustias is no good at praying compared to her mother, who “really knows how to pray” (84). Gloria also claims that when Angustias caught her on the stairs, Gloria was going “to see [her sister]” (85). Andrea doesn’t appear to believe her. Román says he’s glad to see Angustias go:
‘[S]he’s a living piece of the past that interferes with the progress of things.…My things. She bothers all of us, she reminds all of us that we aren’t mature, rounded, settled people like her, but blindly rushing waters pounding at the earth the best we can in order to erupt where least expected’ (85).
He also claims that the letters Andrea saw on the night he visited Angustias’s room were “love letters” (85) he likes to read (though it’s possible that he’s lying).
The family sees Angustias off at the train station. As her train leaves, Juan condemns her affair with Don Jerónimo as the result of class-conscious pride that Angustias disguises with false piety:
‘You’re a wretch! Do you hear me? You didn’t marry him because your father decided to tell you that a shopkeeper’s son wasn’t good enough for you.…That’s whyyyy! And when he came back from America, married and rich, you amused yourself with him, you’ve been stealing him from his wife for twenty years…and now you don’t have the courage to go away with him because you think all of Calle de Aribau and all of Barcelona cares what you do.…And you have contempt for my wife! You evil woman! You and your saint’s halo!’ (87)
Part 1 exposes the stark difference between the great, romantic expectations Andrea and her family members have had for their lives and the stark realities of life after the Spanish Civil War. Because Andrea’s memories of Barcelona stem from childhood visits long before the war, she is uniquely capable of appreciating the difference between the early days when “the world was optimistic” (11) and the eerie, unkempt home environment she encounters. After this contrast, Andrea empathetically imagines how greatly the Calle de Aribau apartment has changed since her grandmother and grandfather first arrived, full of similar youthful hope and excitement. She notably links the landscape of Calle de Aribau, “which was just beginning to take shape,” with the “long, difficult history of their love […] perhaps something connected to the loss of a fortune” (11). Laforet suggests that the evolution of Andrea’s family household—and, by extension, Barcelona’s landscape—is like the dissolution of a complex love affair.
Part 1 also subtly illustrates the effects the Spanish Civil War have had on Andrea’s family, and the ways the war has wrapped itself around their romantic lives. Everyone orbits old wartime tensions and roles. Román mysterious smuggles goods on the black market, extending his old role as a spy for the “Reds” (despite having endured prison time as a result of his activities). Angustias reigns over the family as a Francoist Catholic authoritarian figure, forbidding Andrea from traversing certain streets and neighborhoods mostly, out of anxiety about revealing her own long-running secret relationship with Don Jerónimo. Gloria, Juan, and Román bicker with one another, driven by tensions surrounding an old love triangle that began during the war.
Ultimately, all members of the household except for Angustias live in a state of arrested development, trapped in old stories and unable to make any progress in their lives. The grandmother’s once-grand objects piled around them in morbid, unkempt towers serve as a constant reminder of the past they can’t escape. As Román reflects: “I like things […] Downstairs they don’t know how to treat them” (26).
Images of meaninglessness recur throughout Part 1, as the refrain of “nothing”/“nada” appears in multiple scenes. When Román first plays his violin for Andrea, he demands to know, “What does the music say to you?” Andrea finds herself frustratingly incapable of articulate response, replying, “Nothing, I don’t know, I just like it” (28). Likewise, when Andrea catches Román in her aunt’s room, he suspiciously replies, “nothing […] nothing…nothing I wanted here” (64). A surreal, repetitious atmosphere dominates the household: “So many useless days! Days filled with stories […] Incomplete stories, barely started and already swollen like an old piece of wood left outdoors” (31). At the same time, all members of the household are obsessed with storytelling, asking Andrea questions such as, “What have you begun to imagine about us?” (26).
The novel’s heightened atmosphere leads the reader to question and peer beneath the surface of every detail that is revealed, rarely knowing—as it is rarely confirmed—if something Andrea hears is the full truth. Andrea’s grandmother jokes that Gloria lies, and then speaks out against Juan’s observations about Angustias’s relationship with Don Jerónimo. Though she is generally positioned as a light-hearted but senile woman, she occasionally signals clear lucidity regarding her situation, and even gestures toward knowledge that other family members do not possess—as when she tells Juan, “Things are not always what they seem” (64).
Toward the end of Part 1, Andrea shows signs of her burgeoning independence from Aunt Angustias by deepening her friendship with Ena, giving her the lace handkerchief Andrea’s grandmother once gave her. She thus symbolically distances herself from the “things” her family clings to. This well-intentioned but shortsighted attempt to live Ena’s luxurious life foreshadows Andrea’s later material recklessness in future chapters.
Juan’s violence toward Gloria also slowly increases as Angustias announces her departure. The implication is that as the household’s material circumstances dwindle, and there is no longer a staunch moral center maintaining order, tension and aggression will get worse.