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Unamuno's stories, like his life, are oddly wonderful. For the first time in a readily obtainable U.S. printing, three of his puzzling parables have been translated for the U.S. public by young (36) ex-Chicago Critic Anthony Kerrigan (now living in Majorca), whose introduction is a model of what such things should be. The title story is the oldest in the Judaeo-Christian record—that of Cain and Abel.
Unamuno weaves the apparently simple theme, the crime of Cain (Joaquín), into a lifelong story that reaches beyond life. The antagonists for the love of a bitchy girl are Abel Sanchez, a free, talented and beloved artist to whom everything comes easily, and Joaquín, a doctor, who, for all his virtues, his intensity, his willingness to struggle, cannot beat out Abel for the girl's affections or life's rewards. Unamuno places guilt as deftly as a picador against whose fearful horse's flank the blundering bull of social judgment charges. Abel, the murdered man, admires his murderer "just as Milton admired Satan," and Slayer Joaquín's doom is to know his own fate: "The tragic Cain, the roving husbandman, the first to found cities, the father of industry, envy and community life!"
In Unamuno's story it is Painter Abel's masterpiece to depict the face of Cain, and Doctor Cain's fate to envy and destroy Abel. One of Unamuno's points, made with the subtlety befitting the rector of a university once famed for its theology, seems to be that Abel—bountifully rewarded by God with the world's gifts, was responsible for Cain's envy and thus his own death. Yet the story's outcome is simply Christian—and universal. As he lies dying, Cain says: "An old man is a child who knows he will die ... enough ... I could have loved you, I should have loved you, it would have been my salvation, but I did not."
Biographical Tale. There are only three stories in this collection. The second, The Madness of Doctor Montarco, is a simpler and perhaps more autobiographical tale. It records the difficulties of a devoted doctor whose patients desert him, and by community pressure drive him mad. Dr. Montarco's "crime"—like that of Unamuno himself—was that he liked to publish somewhat fantastic tales. "Poor Montarco," says one of his friends. "Poor Spain," corrects another.
The last story, Saint Emmanuel the Good, Martyr, once caused embarrassment to ceremonies set in motion at Salamanca in 1953 to celebrate the fame of the old rector who had died 17 years before. The story: Emmanuel, a parish priest, seemed fit for sanctification, yet he had not the faith he preached to others. Although Unamuno had died with a crucifix on his chest, imploring God to take him in, the story Saint Emmanuel had caused scandal, and Unamuno's name was forbidden to be mentioned, and the ceremonies planned in his honor at Salamanca were canceled.
In his stories Unamuno represents a tragic irony in Spanish life and letters; his words are a disquieting passage in the old Spanish debate between life and death. He is one of those who broke his lance on the side of the foolish knight who tilted at the windmills of capricious fate.
* Among its notable students: Hernán Cortés, conqueror of, and New York's ex-Mayor William O'Dwyer, present resident of, Mexico.