Me with a statue of Antonio Machado
When I was getting my Ph.D. in English at McGill University, I had to satisfy a language requirement. To satisfy the requirement, students had two options. Option A was to have basic knowledge of two languages. This knowledge could be demonstrated by a certain number of college level credits in a language or passing a reading test. Option B was to do one language at a more intense level. I demonstrated basic knowledge of Spanish by my six hours of undergraduate Spanish at Tulane. But I didn't have college credits in another language, and I "disgracefully" failed the French reading exam. ("Disgraceful" was the word the Director of Graduate Studies had used while "encouraging" me, in no uncertain terms, to give it a try.) So I had to do Spanish at the more intense level. This involved finding someone in the Spanish Department who would work with me on some kind of research on a Spanish writer.
I should say that Spanish had absolutely nothing to do with my dissertation research. Since I was writing about British modernism, French would have been usesful (if I'd had it to use) because of the symbolistes, etc. However, I was stuck with Spanish and with what I, and, I truly believe, the Spanish professor thought was nothing more than a hoop I had to get through.
I chose to write on the Spanish poet Antonio Machado (1875-1939) who was a member of the "generation of 98." I remembered liking Machado in Spanish class, and his poems were short and lyric. Specifically I wrote about parallels between the poetry of William Wordsworth and that of Antonio Machado. I chose this topic because I was genuinely reminded of Wordsworth when I read Machado, and this meant half of the paper I was going to write would be about a poet who wrote in English. I was not claiming any direct influence; there is (I think still) no evidence Machado read Wordsworth. And he was a century older, so I couldn't even say they were part of some larger contemporary movement. I wrote the paper in English. That the Spanish professor (whose name I have completely forgotten went along with this project is further evidence that he thought this was a meaningless (for my Ph.D.) requirement.
When Tony and I were planning our trip to Spain, I read somewhere that there was an Antonio Machado museum in Segovia. He wasn't born there, but had lived for several years. The museum was his house,and we thought we'd go see it. We were stunned to find out that it was full of visitors, and we should have bought a ticket in advance.
Thinking about Macado, I wondered if anyone else had put him aside Wordsworth and I looked on google scholar. To my delighted surprise, there were SEVERAL published articles on topics such as "echoes of Wordsworth in the poetry of Machado." Wow, I had anticipated a cogent scholarly topic! Most of the articles were in Spanish, and my Spanish has almost completely disappeared, so I couldn't read them. But I was truly delighted.
Here are three lines of Machado:
Sólo recuerdo la emoción de las cosas,
y se me olvida todo lo demás;
muchas son las lagunas de mi memoria
And here is my painstaking translation:
I only remember the emotion of things,
and all the rest is forgotten;
many are the empty spaces in my memory.
Doesn't that just remind you of Wordsworth?
"emotion recollected in tranquility"
"we see into the life of things"
"gleams of half-extinguished thought"
#AntonioMachado
#WilliamWordswoth
#Segovia