Teaching Representations of the Spanish Civil War Edited by Noél Valis The Modern Language Association of America 2007 D NewYorkblocks memorial D permission) to s Maughter of che icans and was Ia Bpenly- in the far Aware of certain B swith her great “nose kepr in he Teaching History through Memory Work: Issues of Memorialization Bier srandn in Representations Be ertomensc. ing, because (as, of the Spanish Civil War Bee grondfarhx grandmother ca Bishop of Teruc Wanted Narali Ratalia could ne wtite this piece at the end of a new course to final-year undergraduates oon how the Spanish Civil War has (or has not) been memorialized." The ormation about what Rograph was, efi aim of the course was not so much to provide in make students reflect on the importance of, an factors conditioning, transgenerational transmission. My hypothesis wes that, for twenty-two-year-olds to engage with the past, th understand why they should. The course proved hugely rewarding, \vas the enthusiasm with whieh the students embraced, happened in the past as death had beer must fim series of in-dep for igrandmothe This case b spvo reasons. Fi the idea that th not), had an ethical responsibility to be the bearers of the past for genera «tribute this enthusiasm to various factors: the inclu grand por a classic tra as young people (some of Spanish origin but mostly leannot be transi also made us sen: tions after them. Ia other su sion in the course materials of documents— photographs, printed and audiovisual testimonies—that gave direct (if mediated) access to the past as lived by individuals; the framing of the course with discussion of key ing, and trauma, which provided a fengraved in her fiom lack of a re theoretical texts on memory, mou: texts required fo al issues, public and private, at stake in the opriate f way of understanding the culture often apparent, t memorialization process; and, most important, the placing of the students at the center of the transmission process, by engaging with the past fro ‘moments—the dates of publics the vantage point of its reception at later possibility of its 436ugh Memory cialization to final-year undergraduates 1) been memorialized! The de information about what exon the importance of, and mission. My hypothesis was inh the past, they must frst oved hugely rewarding, for hich the students embraced £ Spanish origin but mostly carers of the past for g to vatious factors: the inclu- —photographs, printed and mediated) access to the past urse with discussion of key trauma, which provided a lic and private, at stake in the +, the placing of the students engaging with the past from nents—the dates of publica Jo Labanyi 437 tion or exhibition of the cultural representations studied and the present ‘time of the students in exploring this material. I rerurn to these issues The second reason was something very special that happened. At the ‘end of the first seminar, after a discussion of what promotes, allows, or blocks memorialization, a student came up to me (I recount this with her permission) to say she could now appreciate why her grandmother—the daughter of che Nationalist colonel who surrendered Teruel to the Repub: licans and was later shot by a Republican firing squad—had never spoken ‘openly in the family about her father’s death. The student (Natalia) was aware of certain objects in her grandmother's home that were connected ‘with ber great-grandfather: some on public display in the sitting room, _most kept in her grandmother's bedroom closer. But her communication with her grandmother about this personal loss had been limited to two indirect forms of expression. First, Natalia had learned since childhood ncver to mention in her grandmother's presence the fact that it was snow- ing, because (as her mother explained to her) it was snowing when her gcat-grandfather was taken to his execution. Second, one day Natalia’s grandmother came to her bedroom and gave her a photograph of the bishop of Teruel (Obispo Polanco, recently beatified), saying that she wanted Natalia to have it since he had died with her great-grandfather. Natalia could now appreciate that the sight of snow triggered a traumatic reenactment of the past for her grandmother and that the gift of the pho- tograph was, effectively, her grandmother's gift to her of the past that she could not tell. Natalia wrote her project on how her great-grandfathe: death had been memorialized (or not) in the family. She conducted a series of in-depth interviews with her grandmother that allowed het grandmother to tell her story in fill for the first time. This ease brought home to all of usin the class a key point: the past cannot be transmitted unless there is an interlocutor willing to receive it. It also made us sensitive to the use of the word trauma, since, while Natalia’s grandmother suffered from traumatic reenactments of the past, she was not a classic trauma victim in that every detail of the past remained engraved in her mind. She suffered not from a blocking of memory but from lack of a receptive audience. When studying the various testimonial texts requited for the course, we kept finding that trauma theory was an inappropriate framework since, even though the effects of trauma were fen apparent, the past had been registered perfectly clearly in the mind of the victims; the problem was the blocking not of memory but of the possibility ofits telling (for another perspective on trauma and civil war} | | 438 Memory Work memory, see Resina in this volume). This blocking, caused first by the Franco dictatorship, had been perpetuated by the pacro del olvido of the transition period, which facilitated the return to democracy through a col: lective agreement to consign past wounds to oblivion (Aguilar Fermin ez), Another lesson I learned from the story of Natalia’s grandmother was that I had been mistaken in assuming that the obsessively repeated public rituals of mourning staged by the early Franco regime enabled the Nationalist bereaved to work through the mourning process. There were complex factors at play in this instance, since Natalia’s great-grandfather had been repudiated as a traitor by the Nationalists for surrendering Teruel to save lives. Her grandmother was given permission to claim and rebury the body only in 1972, on condition thar the press not be informed. But the triumphalist tone of the Nationalist public expressions of mourning did not allow private grief to be acknowleged. Natalia’s inter view with her grandmother taught me that the bercaved on the winn' side also needed willing interlocutors, particularly since most scholars have been interested only in the story of the Republican losers. We should ask s losers. Iam not the ourselves why we are so seduced by the stories of history here advocating political neutralism bue the need to listen also uncomfortable stories of those whose polities one deplores ‘A major aim of this course, in focusing on issues of memorializationg oriography. The premise Wl ‘was to go beyond empiricist concepts of that the historian cannot recover the past but can only chart a series of is appearances (Klein 1-23). That is, the histotian’s task isto track the traces ofa past that has been lost forever but that makes itself felt in the present through its emotional and material residues. Sigmund Freud’s classic essay “Mourning and Melancholia” is crucial here in its analysis of how people: suffering loss introject the lest object: temporarily in the mourning. provess, indefinitely and pathologically in melancholia. Also crucial is th work on trauma that has been conducted particularly in relation to the Holocaust. Ernst Van Alphen stresses how trauma is not just “failed mem: ory” but “failed experience,” since our modern Western belief thar the human subject is defined by its capacity for individual autonomy supposes that if we are denied any agency, we cease to be human. Van Alphen notes how Holocaust survivors often recount their concentration camp expet ences in the third person, as if they had not experienced them personally for their complete lack of agency had made them things and not persons (28-29). In the circumstances of war and political repression with wach we are concerned in this volume, people frequently found themselves fGet fo the status of a Byhat can be remem Ground Nelly Richard's sentation and narrative Iajor critique of the he Phe contrast is sig san teansition were was vo bring rapid « DP bpido of the Spanish u P ithour any prior phase Df this filure to engage ¥ PSaue’s 1p, Carmela! (1 on of historical 1 Sener’ D saperb example of afl sarrative. Kathleen Verne alice atthe endl of the F © srarement, engage with than do the plethors of mode —for example, V ans), José Luis Cuerda iid Montxo Armendirt aie films circumvent ¢ Uinemory processes where trations (hence the predi ‘The realise aesthetics Spanish Civil War sug: values (Vernon, “War”) how the past is transmite tinue to aceuse democra fence of « nostalgia indusocking, caused first by the the pacto def alvido of the 9 democracy through a col- oblivion (Aguilar Fernén of Natalia’s grandmother i the obsessively repeated. Franco regime enabled the ning process. There were Natalia's great-grandfather ionalists for surrendering permission to claim and wn that the press not be ionalist public expressions nowleged. Natalia’sinter- bereaved on the winning since most scholars have can losers. We should ask history's losers. Tam not ed to listen also to the deplores, sues of memorialization, ‘graphy. The premise was only chart a series of dis- task isto track the traces s itself felt in the present vund Freud’s classic essay analysis of how people rarily in the mourning holia. Also crucial is the ularly in relation to the is not just “failed mem- Western belief that the tual autonomy supposes man. Van Alphen notes sentration camp experi ienced them personally things and not persons repression with which tly found themselves Jolabanyi 439 reduced to the status of a thing, We can learn from Van Alphen’s reminder that what can be remembered depends on the narratives that are sanc- tioned both politically and philosophically in any given culture, ‘There seems to be an absence in Spanish culture of representattone oF the civil war that set out to reproduce the fissured, nonnarrative structuces of trauma, Instead of recollection, with trauma there is compulsive repeti tion in the form of reenactment. This replacement of narration with per- formance effectively involves a break with representation itself. One can draw a contrast with the work of the Chilean nco-avant-garde grouped around Nelly Richard’s Revista de Critica Cultural, WQS Sate resentation and narrative in favor of an aesthetics of trauma Bas proviciod a major critique of the hegemonic narratives of Chile’s transition to democ- racy? The contrast is significant, because the consensual politics of the Chilean transition were based on an official rhetoric of mourning, whose goal was to bring rapid closure by laying the past to rest. The pacto del olvido of the Spanish transition, on the other hand, opted for oblivion without any prior phase of working through the past. A striking example of this failure to engage with the aesthetic implications of trauma is Carlos Saura’s ‘Ay, Carmela! (1990), whose realist aesthetics is at odds with its depiction of historical trauma (at the end the traumatized Gustavete recovers his voice). This disconnect is surprising since Saura’s earlier Cria enervos (1975; “Raise Ravens”), made as General Franco lay dying, isa superb example of a film whose structures echo those of traumatie ant. narrative. Kathleen Vernon notes (“War”) chat the experimental films pro- duced at the end of the Franco regime, when censorship required indirect statement, engage with the consequences of the civil war more successfully than do the plethora of recent films that represent the war in hyperrealist mode—for example, Vicente Aranda’s Libertarias (1995; “Libertati- ans"), José Luis Cuerda’s La lengua de las mariposss(1999; “Butterfly”), and Montxo Armendéri2’s Silencio roto (2000; “Broken Silence”). The earlier films circumvent censorship by focusing not on the past but on the memory processes whereby an unspeakable past is recovered by later gen~ erations (hence the predilection for child protagonists). ‘The realist aesthetics adopted by most recent Spanish films about the Spanish Civil War suggest not only a concern to show off high production values (Vernon, “War”) but also a lack of concern with the question of how the past is transmitted. This lack helps explain why intellectuals con tinue to accuse democratic Spain of collective amnesia, despite the exis- tence of a nostalgia industry re-presenting the war and its aftermath in the440 Memory Work form of heritage-style movies and facsimile editions of early Francois school textbooks (Harvey), Fiction has been more concerned with explo ing memory processes (Llamazares) and the nced for transgenerationl transmission (Mufioz Molina, Beacusilleand El jinrepolaco, Cerca) While one applauds the recent flood of historical works documenting the resistance fighters who waged war on the Francoist state until 1951 (S. Serrano, Marin Silvestre, among many others), itis noticeable that fw Spanish historians have engaged with memory work, continuing top an empiricist approach, A notable exception i QSIMCEHEE, whose oa history interviews with fst: and second-gencration survivors of repeals in Aragén (on both politcal sides) have brought to the fore psycholoal faetors—such asthe internalization of guilt—that have made the memory of pat violence hard to asimilate There isin facta recent boom in testimonies related to the civil war hd its aftermath, but it has been conducted not by historians but by newspaper and radio journalists (Leguineche and Torbado; Lafuente ‘Tiempos Reverte and Thoms; Hlosd) wells by documentary flmmake= (see Camino’s Nites de Racin; Corcuera’s Guerilla de le memoria). The intellectual rigor of chese works is problematic— there isan infuriating lack of information about the circumstances and editing ofthe interviews (asin the Brtsh historian Ronald Frasers pioneering Blood of Spain: To perience of Civil War, 1936-1939), Nevertheless they succeed in engag ing the reader withthe affective dimensions of the past, bringing itive through this memory workin a way that no empiricist historian is able to achieve. We should also note here the recent efforts ofthe Asociacin para Ia Recuperaci de la Memoria Historica (Association forthe Recovery of Historical Memory) in digging up mass graves from the war, in or ‘densify che bodties, What i tiking here is not that the bodies have found—relatives mostly knew they were there—but thatthe idetice tion of these remains finally allows the mourning process, and a proper burial, to take place, after a hiatus of over sixty yeas. The question of what happens to a society that has not been allowed to mourn the vietims of political violence for over sixty years i a important one. One should here interrogate the notion encouraged by psychoanabsis—that remembering is always good and forgetting alvays bad Tedepenls on who forges; on whether the forgetting s enforced o: chosen: and on the reasons why its chosen. The key point for those who have suffered atrocities is that past events must be recognized and transmit This process requires willing interlocutors who permit the passing of thei Bing raises the iss iby later generation Tthem—by words, he question of | {experience themse The other th Ter Benjamin's mv edemprive role ¢ Fescuc from obliv dies our the mul fFranslate inco subs © tion our not Angel of History Progress, with its (249) —evokes a rethinking of narr history is a photog BD march of time, det uns of the past, in their irruption into The course sti Givil War by by her to th photographs are nc the invisible space « Stories encapsulatec igraph; furniture pil the absent (dead?) the material memor ‘ane! the imprint ofa The Benjamini Horns’s photograp | father than on narra “The Spirit of the Betions of early Francoist concerned with explor- d for transgenerational | jinete polaco; Cercas)> works documenting the acoist state until 1951 ics nosiceable that few ork, continuing to prefer sels Cenarro, whose oral Con survivors of reprisals ‘the fore psychological have made the memory «elated to the civil war ot by historians but by 1d Torbado; Lafuente, documentary filmmakers itla de fa memoria), The there is an infuriating sditing of the interviews ring Blood of Spain: The s they succeed in engag- ne past, bringing it alive sicist historian is able to ts of the Asociacion para tion for the Recovery of ‘om the war, in order to e bodies have been ~but that the identifica process, and a proper sat has not been allowed over sixty years is an notion—encouraged by rd forgetting always bad. ngs entorced or chosen; >int for those who have sgnized and transmitted. rmit the passing of their Jolabanyi 441 stories to future generations. Frequently the transmission of knowledge about the civil war leapfrogs a gencration (as with Natalia). Such leapfrog, ging raises the issue of postmemory, Marianne Hirsch’s term for the memories by later generations of atrocities suffered by their parcnts and transmitted to them—by words, objects, or silences—through family life (Family Frames) ‘The question of how later generations remember a past that they did not experience themselves is crucial to any concept of collective identity. ‘The other theoretical framework that was central to the course is Wal- ter Benjamin’s messianic concept of history, which gives the historian the redemptive role of scavenger among the debris of the past, concerned to rescue from oblivion the traces of history's losers (Ildwminations). While Twould argue that we should resist Benjamin’s sole focus om the losers, his point that the providentialist vision of modern Western historiography edits out the multiple potential of the past that, through defeat, did not translate into subsequent events, is an important one, for it calls into ques: tion our notion of history as teleological, linear narrative. Benjamin’s Angel of History—blown backward into the future by the storm of progress, with its face trained on the mounting wreckage of the past (249)—evokes a multidirectional notion of history that requires a rethinking, of narrative. Eduardo Cadava argues that Benjamin’s view of history is a photographic one, since Benjamin wants to arrest the Forward march of time, detaching from their context the objects salvaged from the ruins ofthe past in the process investing them with new meaning through their eruption into the here and now. ‘The course started by considering the photographs of the Spanish Civil War by the Hungarian anarchist photographer Kati Horna, donated by her to the Spanish Ministry of Culture after Franco's death. These photographs are notable for the way they capture a moment in midflow, ‘making us aware of the past through what is absent from the photograph the invisible space outside the frame at which the figures are looking; the stories encapsulated in their material traces—photographs in the photo graph; furniture piled in the street after a bombing raid; the evocation of the absent (dead?) occupant ofa bed in a field hospital, present through the material memories of his suitease, the cutouts of film stars on the wall, and the imprint of a body on the bedclothes (Labanyi, “Politics” 99-101). ‘The Benjaminian photographic reading of history permitted by Horna’s photographs provided a way of reading the reliance on image rather than on narrative in Victor Erice’s El espiritu de la colmena (19733 “The Spirit ofthe Beehive”) and the 2001 Spanish- Mexican coproduction442 Memory Work by the Mexican director Guillermo del Toro, El espinaso del dinblo (“The Devil's Backbone”). Both films use photographs to evoke a past that isnot parrated: in the first, the family album that Ana leafs through provides: only information she—and we—have about her parents’ prewar past; if the second, the family photographs that the film’s villain, Jacinto, finds in the sae instead of the Republican gold he s looking for forees him to com front a past that he has attempted to annihilate. As Jacinto drowns atthe film's end, these photographs float to the surface, as reminders of an tanspoken past that insists on surfacing, in Keeping, with ths insistence on evoking a past that remains beyond narration, both films in addition vo dealing with eileren as te inesitors of wn unspeakable past, adopt the horror movie format. In Esprits the tinspeakable past is embodied materially by Frankenstein's monstet (see aa Deveny in this volume); in Expinaze, by the double ghosts of the murdered child Santi and of the Republican schoolteacher Dr. Casares, killed owas the end of the film, These films ar graphic evocation of the concept of his tory asa haunting proposed by Jaeques Derrida in Spcters of Mars Derrida tlaborates the ethical imperative to acknowledge the ghosts of the past who Summon us with their unwelcome gaze. As I discus elsewhere ("History"), Derrida proposes hauntology as replacement for an essentialist ontology to develop 4 nonempircist notion of history based on recognition of the traces in the present of pastiretievably lost. His reading of ghosts isa materials fone, for ghosts are embodied, material traces that return to demand repars tion: here Derrida is close to Benjamin’s messianic concept of history In both Exice's and Del Toro’ films, history is an absence evoked by is material traces: note the foorprint in Bspiritw into which Ane inserts her tiny foot; in Espinazo, the unexploded bomb embedded in the schook courtyard, animated by its “heartbeat,” which directs Carlos to Santis sshost, whose demand for reparation he will mect. Del Toro’s use of digital Special effects constructs a very embodied ghost, for his ghost story has nothing to do with the supernatural but is like Derrida’s, a materialist reading of history. Erice depicts Frankenstein's monster first through Anas subjective point-of-view shots, then moves to an objective vantage pois that holds both the monster and Ana in the frame, implying thatthe mom ster is realy there (Labanyi, “History” 78). Del Toro goes further, shows tus Sant’s ghost from an objective point of view before Carlos ses it, even filming several shots from the ghost’s (and the unexploded bomb's) pitt of view. Its possible to read Del Toro’s film as entirely narrated by the film’s second ghost—that of Dr. Casares, so materially embodied that its Iquestion, “Wh: Del Toro’s train Bar more successful Mecause it does not » the surviving boy ‘The use of the He lois (“Moon oft lighters) in northwe Hhovel’s subject is no Konducted with peo Jnstances until the a1 Kollected these testi © published their resea flood of printed and Hiaic-1990s (the bc “Leguineche and Tor recounts graphicallyvinaso del diablo (“The evoke a past that is not § through provides the arents’ prewar past; in dillain, Jacinto, finds in for forces him to con- Jacinto drowns at the ¢, a8 reminders of an st that remains beyond {ren as the inheritors of mat. In Espiritu, the sin’s monster (see also. hosts of the murdered Casares, killed toward s of the concept of his- wcters of Mars, Derrida ghosts of the past who alsewhere (“History”), -ssentialist ontology, to cognition of the traces ghosts is a materialist arn to demand repara- ieept of history, absence evoked by its which Ana inserts her >edded in the school vets Carlos to Santi’s 4 Toro’s use of digital ot his ghost story has crida’s, a materialise ‘er first through Ana’s vjective vantage point aplying that the mon oes further, showing. re Carlos sees it, even sloded bomb’s) point irely narrated by the ly embodied that it is Jo Laban 443 indistinguishable from the living figure —whose voice-over, reflecting on the question, “What is a ghost2,” starts and ends the film Del Toro’s training in the horror genre allows his film to evoke the civil War more successfully than recent realist films made by Spanish directors, because it does not attempt to represent historical events, instead dramatiz. ing a ghost story that conveys their horror. The film’s period realism is another special effect, reproducing the past in the form of its material residues rather than of events: we are close here to the Lacanian coneept of the real as that which lies beyond representation, Erice made his film at a time when censorship prohibited unauthorized representations of history; Del Toro, filming in 2001, adoptsa similar aesthetics of haunting that eo-opts the postmodern stress on virtual reality (his use of digital effects) to make a statement about our duty to acknowledge the presence of an absent past. As the surviving boys limp offinto an unknown future at the film's end, Dr. Casares's ghost stands guard over the school’s ruins. The use of the werewolf motif in Julio Llamazares’s 1985 novel Luna ie labos(*Moon of the Wolves”) about the Republican maquis (resistance fighters) in northwestern Spain similarly co-opts the horror genre. The novel’ subject is not historical events but the memory process that keeps them alive. The lst surviving resistance fighter, Angel. is forced into ante when his village and family expel him from their memories, In a commu: nity no longer willing to keep his memory alive, he is already dead. His first-person narrative frequently describes the maquis as the living dead: an image found in the interviews Manuel Leguineche and Jesus Torbado conducted with people who went underground afier the civil war, in many instances until the amnesty of 1969 if not later. Leguineche and Torbado collected these testimonies with ropos (“moles”) from 1969 to 1974 and Published their research in 1977; Las tapos anticipated by two decades the flood of printed and audiovisual testimonies that has appeared since the mid-1990s (the book was rcissued in 1999). What emerges from Leguineche and Torbado’s interviews with these ghosts of the past (sev ral hid in makeshift underground graves) isa form of oral narrative whose temporality is nor linear but discontinuous and repetitive—not because the speakers are marked by trauma (all seem to have perfect recall) but because popular memory constructs history as a discontinuous series of ‘catastrophes (Samuel 6) The temporality of topo testimonies is also constructed around family cycles, in this case signaling disaster instead of celebration. One 7opo recounts graphically how, when his wife became pregnant, she had to say444 Memory Work that she had been sleeping around to avoid betraying her husband’s pres: cnce in the attic. When her father died, leaving no other males in the ive the au: household, the fofe dressed in women’s clothes so that the washing hang: _giving recogni ing out to dry would not give him away (Leguineche and Torbado 71, Feabuld say une 83). These men—and their families embodied an experience of history Las nivios ds jn which what could be seen was a mask for an unspeakable reality that © dren evacusced revealed itself only through betrayal. These testimonies also op “Soviet newsree according to a process of displacement whereby the impossibility of n person account rating the experience of being, confined to immobility and invisibility for sometimes thirty years deflects the narrative into an account of what the J “superimposition speakers did in the civil war before they went into hiding. We get an ov themselves as cl wwhelming sense of people who, while skilled in the art of survival, were often caught up in history instead of being its agents. Again, we are reminded that we need forms of historical narrative that are not based 02 B ing about the ir the assumption that its subjects are defined —at least, not all the time—by also make us aw their capacity for individual autonomy. 4 Pry: one evacue This short account does not allow me to do justice to all the texts eis produced t studied in the course I have described. The selection of texts—always Becomes conde: contingent®—sometimes produced unexpected connections. For © ring on her ha: ple, when we studied Juan Goytisolo’s 1955 novel Duelo em of Paraiso E mother gave it (Childron of Chaos) immediately after the 19441 film Raza (“Race”), based hear this same ‘ona script written under a pseuclonym by General Franco, it was curious Spain with the f to see how the sactificial ethos elaborated in the film is repeated in Goyt telationship with solo’s novel, albeit for personal motives and not out of service to the ier hand state—a sign, no doubt, of the difficulty experienced by the children of The one thing the victors in thinking outside the narratives sanctioned by their elders B With parents 0} The vo versions of Raza—the original 1941 version having bees Unio» destroyed after the 1950 remake, which excised the fascist salute and B Byaforwn derogatory references to liberal democracy and the United States former child ev: (Alberich)® -brought home the importance of viewing historical represen PBenita’s mar tations in the context af the moment of their reception, Soviet Union cc "The imbrication of the past in the present was also forcefully conveyed 7 Btructed by Car in the ewo film documentaries we studied, Los nifios de Rusia and La onwrast again m rilla de la memoria. The start of Guerrilla, filming the former leader of the Tasninios de Ru ‘Aerupacion Guerrillera de Sierra Morena, Comandante Rios, on his Slory of loss of S, to work, makes the point that the ordinary-looking elderly people we see BP zen of the world around us on the bus may carry quite extraordinary stories, Especially Bon her everyla moving is the footage (included in the DVD extras) of the Gijén Film Fes Bite is incerrupte tival, at which this film was shown in the presence of the former resistance Wor, the Germaaying her husband’s pres- ag no other males in the so that the washing hang: sineche and Torbado 71, dan experience of history unspeakable reality that nonies also operate + the impossibility of nar- obility and invisibitity for an account of what the o hiding. We get an over tthe art of survival, were ts agents. Again, we are tive that are not based on cast, not all the time—by fo justice to all the texts lection of texts—always connections, For exam= ovel Duelo en el Paraiso Im Raza (“Race”), based ral Franco, it was curious film is repeated in Goyti ‘ot out of service to the enced by the children of nactioned by their elders 41 version having been vd the faseist salute and and the United States wing historical represen -ption. 5 also forcefully conveyed Jos de Rusia and La guer- the former leader of the indante Rios, on his way ng elderly people we see inary stories. Especially 's) of the Gijén Film Fes- + ofthe former resistance Jo Labanys 445, fighters interviewed. As these men and women climb onto the stage to receive the audience’s applause, we are made aware of the importance of Biving recognition to those whose story remained ntold—or perhaps we should say unheard —for so long. Las nisos de Rusia brilliantly combines interviews with former chil dren evacuated to the Soviet Union during the civil war with Spanish and Soviet newsrec! footage: this editing gives objective support to the fis person accounts but also shows (by zooming in on individuals) that behind every person in the archival footage lies a different story. ‘The superimposition onto the faces of the interviewees of photographs of themselves as children produces a sense of the haunting of the present by the past. The film is notable for its juxtaposition of very different accounts of the same events; it ends with its subjects reunited over dinner, quarrel ing about the interpretation of the past. Several ofits personal narratives also make us aware of how material objects can become carriers of mem ory: one evacuee, describing his departure from Spain, speaks of the blis ters produced by his first pair of leather shoes—the pain of separation becomes condensed in a material hurt. Similaely, one woman fingers the ring on her hand, telling us that it is her mother’s wedding ring; her mother gave it to her at the moment of departure. Later in the film we hear this same woman’s story of how, on the day of her arrival back in Spain with the first returnees in the mid-1950s, she failed to establish any relationship with her mother, whom she never saw again. ‘The ring remains oon her hand as a replacement for an impossible connection to her origins. The one thing on which all the interviewees agree is the failure to ond with parents on their return to Spain; many went back to the Soviet Union. By a fortunate coincidence, I was able to have present in the class a former child evacuce to the Soviet Union (the mother of a colleague) Benita’s matter-of-fact account of her experiences growing up in the Soviet Union contrasted strikingly with the tone of high tragedy con structed by Camino’s film (reinforced by the musical sound track). This contrast again made us aware of the importance of the intended audience: Los nits de Rusia supposes that its Spanish audience wants to hear a tragic story of loss of Spanish origins. Benita, happy to be what she called a citi zen of the world, felt no attachment to Spain, Ifher oral account focused on her everyday life, Camino’s film presents a narrative in which everyday life is interrupted and eclipsed by historical disasters (the Spanish Civil ‘War, the German invasion of the Soviet Union). As noted above, we need446. Memory Work to reflect on the dangers of being seduced by the story of tragic victims; #0 acknowledge the untold stories of atrocities does not mean that we should blind ourselves to the everyday stuff of which the past is made Iconchide with an image from Manuel Rivas’s novel (written origi os nally in Galician), Bl ldpis del cargintero (1998; The Carpenter's Pencil Bee vicron 0 lis account of the journey through varions Francoist prisons to exile ofa he novel leading figure of Galician nationalism, fictionalized as Doctor Da Ba younger yencratio d Bprisoner executed af Mead mother's politi dictated to the narrator (a former Francoist thug) by the pencil inher! by him from the Republican carpenter whom he shot, whose ghost whis pers constantly in his ear. At the end of the novel the narrator gives the pencil to his interlocutor: a Lusophone Aftican prostitute who, 2s another displaced migrant, is an appropriate inheritor of Da Barea’s story. In a key chapter, Da Barca, treating a fellow prisoner plagued by the pain of his amputated foot, explains that he is suffering from “el dolor fantasma” 1 Both versions h Espanola; the DVD (“phantom pain”): “They say it’s the worst kind of pain. A pain that becomes unbearable. The memory of pain” (119). This image provides an eloquent gloss on the concept of history I have tried to elaborate in this essay. My concern has been to show how the exploration of the past throngh its memorialization can open up forms of historical understand. ing that connect the past to the present. Such forms accept that the past can be known to us only as a haunting, through the emotional and mate rial traces of what is lost. This approach to the past places us at the center of the historical process, for without a chain of transgenerational transmis sion there can be no history. Notes 1. The course was taught atthe University of Southampton. Since 2006 Itech revised version ofthe course to graduate students at New York University. 2. Tacknovwledge here my debt ro my student Marcela Pizarro, whose PhD the sis examines the aesthetics of the Revista de Critica Cultural 3. A welcome exception to my criticism of recent films for their lack of concern with issues of memory and transmission is David Trueba’s 2003 adaptation of Cr cas'sSoldados de Salamina, 4, A limited selection of Homa's photographs can be accessed on the following Web sites: www barrangue.com/guerracivil/homa htm, www.mcu es /lab/archivas/ kat /memtindex, htm, wmmwances /republics /kat/, and ww: gucerscvl org/Diats/ ‘981127pais. hm (last accessed Oct. 2003), 5, My choice of rexts was inevitably constrained by what books and video ver sions of films were in print at the time, This consuaint ruled out Arands’s Liler= ‘arias, which, while hugely disarbing in its representation of gender and especialve story of tragic victims; to *s not mean that we should 2e past is made wvas's novel (written origi 35 The Carpenter's Pencil ncoist prisons to exile of a zed as Doctor Da Barea, is 1) by the pencil inherited « shot, whose ghost whis: wvel the narrator gives the prostitute who, 38 another Da Barea’s story In a key slagued by the pain of his Som “el dolor fantasma” Castilian from the origi- nagrafia de Pranciteo Law nifios espaol ena dings ‘esentation: introduction to sion, with a brief outline of under ehe Franco dictator “ure stresses the importance ims of historiography to-cap- rdent presentations: Discus siviy"; Freud’s “Mourning story of Photography.” liscussion of ways of reading al documents (what exact to specific photographs by ents will each analyze one ze, Readings: Cadava 7-13, JoLabanyi 497 59-66; Benjamin, “Small History” and “Politics.” ses”; Hirsch; Labanyj, Raza: explanation ofthe political and historical background to the film adits vo versions. The film is se in the context of Spanish cinema in ‘he yeats immediately following rhe civil war, We diseuss the issue of official memorializations of che past and of how one responds to this film asa version of history giveo by the instigators and vietors of the civil war (the Nationalist coalition of fascists, monarchists, Carlists, Catholics, and the right-wing in general). Student presentations: the significance for the flm’s representation of national history of the suet ficial ethos on which the Sim is built; the film's depiction of gender roles; how the flm encourages spectator identification with certain characters to legitimize the civil war through the use of camera work, acting syle, costume, ete. Reading: Alberich. ‘Duelo en ef Paratie: The novel is set in the contest of the em tthe mid-1950s of an intellectual opposition, mostly drawn from the sons of the Nationalist vietors, who experienced the civil war as chil dren. We discuss the novel's use of biblical allegory (the fill from pare ise) 45 an indirect form of statement in order fo get around the ‘censorship and how allegory tains readers to decode a hieden message. ‘We ask how interpretation of the novel might have been circumscribed at the time ofits publication in 1985, given prevailing political ideoto- gles, Student presentations: the effects created by the construction of | the novel around a series of flashbacks (in particular, think about how this device affects the novel's representation of historical time); the novel's ambivalent atticude to violence; how class affects the novel's depiction of history. Reading: Labanyi, “Ambiguous Implications.” El expiritn de [a colmena: the film's relation to the notion of history as a haunting (the traces or wound left by a past shat cannot be recovered) that demands eparation, We discuss the film in the context of the notion of trauma. We think particularly about how the historical ‘moment when the film appeazed (1973) may bave affected viewers’ responses and about its meanings when viewed today. In particular We ‘emphasize the importance ofthe film's weatment of tansgenerational transmission and ask whether its use of indirect forms of representation (required at the time by censorship) may nor remain more effective ‘than realist reatment (Which bas characterized many films about the civil war since the return to democracy). Student presentations: the role ‘of lence in the film the role of photographs in the film; how the mise fen-scéne makes indirect statements in the Sim, Readings: Labanyi, “History and Hauntology”; Smith Los topas: We discuss testimonio 2s a gence, bearing in mind this vol: uume’s pioaccring role as one of the first ofits kind in Spain. We con: sider the significance of its reissue in 1999 (sixty years after the civil ‘wat's end, ata time of a boom in memory work around the civil war498 Memory, History, Re and its aftermath). We ask what is the status of such first-pecson accounts aud what is the role ofthe editors, We also ask what kind us therapeuric value the accounts may have had for the speakers, the iter viewers and editors, and readers (both in 1977 and in 1999). Studene presentations: threc students each to discuss one testimenio fiom ‘tapos, allocated in advance, paying particular attention to how th first-person accounts differ ftom the historical accounts given by histo rians, both in what they lk about and in the way they organize tick material, Readings: Felman and Laub; Gugelberger. Lana de lobos We set this novel (Llamazares’s frst) in the context. fictional production, all of it concerned with the recovery of historia ‘memory through attachment to place, We discuss the concept of plage memory and its relation to collective memory. We also relate the now t0 Corcnera’s 2002 documentary La guerrilla dela memoria, stesing the importance ofthe existence of an interlocutor fora story tobe tl With reference to both texts, we discuss the emphasis on communi ‘Student presentations: the significance of the first-person aazration ul the novel; how the novel uses landscape description as a way of ssi something about history; the kind of picture ofthe anti-Francoist gue rilla fighters that emerges from La guerrilla dé la memoria and the ie native and cinematic strategies used to convey it. (Watch the DVD.» «extras as well asthe film, especially the scene from the Gijon Fm Fest i.) Viewing and readings: La guerrilla de la memoria; Pal Preston, The Urban and Rural Gusrrilla of the 1940s,” in Graham and Labanyi 229-37; Serrano, Ay, Carmela! fe set the film in the context of Saura’s shift wand increasingly self-reflexive (postmodern?) forms of representation, sh ing whae isthe function of performance in the film. We also ask how this stress on performance might relate to the film's realist cinemston raphy and whether realism is sufficient t0 convey a sense of history. Stu dent presentations: the extent to whicl Sauta’s film reduces history performances the success of the film's mix of comedy and tragedy at ¢ ‘means of depicting the civil war; the function of Gustavete in the ft Reading: Jordan and Tamosunas-Morgan. El digi del carpintere: We discuss the significance ofthe novels Galicia Perspective, set in a wider national and international scenario. In prt lar we ask why Rivas chose a former Francoise thug as his narrator ae Lusophone African prostitute as the recipient of his story. We ask how this novel interpelates the Galician (and Spanish) reader ofits time of publication (1998). Stadent presentations: how Rivas's novel might be Seen as an attempt to heal old divisions among the different factions i the civil war; the effecs created by making the protagonist's dest ie trigger that generates the whole story; the image of Republican Spas that the novel conveys to readers in 1998 through its protagonist Doce Bx espinaso del fil is success vents of th as an allegor swith its realistic embodied navi relation ofthe ¢ the about che host through its reps “Theses”; Cad im has re Las nisios de Rs ‘with the classe film, rather th tons: the efte al from the 0 visual image 2 Camino’s doe affected by our Communism Gon7ilez Man Laub; Gugelbe Publication detai Nided in the list of workthe status of such first-person ditors. We also ask what kind of ce had for the speakers, the inter ‘in 1977 and in 1999). Student discuss one testimanio from Las ‘ticular attention to how these storial accounts given by histo- din the way they organize their Gugelberger. ~zares's ist) in the context of his covery of historical We discuss the concept of place also relate the novel seria de lo memoria, stressing, locator fora story to be told. ss cic emphasis on community of the first-person narration of ve description as a way of saying, cture of the anti-Francoist guer villa de fa memoria and the nar- © convey it. (Watch the DVD «ene from the Gijon Film Festi {ade ta memoria; Paul Preston the 1940s,” in Graham and ‘context of Saura’s shift toward ») forms of representation, ask in the film. We also ask how to the film’s realist cinematog: o convey a sense of history. Stu Saute’ film reduces history to nix of comedy and tragedy as a nnction of Gustavete inthe fl, nificance of the novel’ Galician ternational scenario. In partct 2eoist thug as bis narrator and a Jpient of his story. We ask how 4 Spanish) reader ofits time of ns: how Rivas’s novel might be among the different factions in he protagonist's death the the image of Republican Spain through its protagonise Doctor 10 n JoLabanyi 499 El expinaco del diablo: The film is compaced with El expiri de fa col for its use of haunting asa central metaphor. We argue that the film is successful precisely because it avoids a realistic depiction of the ‘events of the civil war. We consider how the ghost story format functions as an allegory of the ethical dury to transmit the horror of the past 10 ture generations, We ask how the fl’ appeal to the horror gente fis with ics realistic re-creation of period settings. We also discuss the very ‘embodied nature of the ghosts in the film. Seudent presentations: the relation ofthe ghost of Santi to the ghost of the teacher Casares and why the film has two ghosts; the film’s use of wiual images to say something about the horror of war; what the fli is trying to say about history through its representation of the character Jacinto. Readings: Benjamin, “Theses”; Cadava; Chun; Labanyi, “History and Hauntology:” Los nis de Rusia: We take further the discussion of testimonio begun with the classes on Las topos, looking at what is specific to the use of fil, rather than print, as the medium of diffusion, Student presenta: tions: the effects produced by the way Camino has organized the mate tial from the oral history interviews; the added value provided by the Visual image and musical sound track (as opposed to what is said) in Camino’s documentary; how our reception of these zestimonias is atfected by our knowledge of the historical fact of the demise of Soviet Communism in 1989. Readings: Alted Vigil, Nicolds Marin, and Gonzélez Martell; Devllard, Pazos, Castillo, and Medina; Felman and Laub; Gugelberger, Zaffa, Crego, and Heredia, Publication details for all works mentioned in this syllabus are pro. vided in the list of works cited a the end of this book.