Mi enemigo mortal

Por Willa Cather

«Sabía lo que quería escribir, tenía una concepción noble y profunda de la vida y supo cómo hacerlo.» José Maria Guelbenzu

«Quien se acerque por primera vez a la obra de esta autora, puede concluir que la literatura universal guarda aún muchos tesoros por descubrir.» José Miguel Nieto. Aceprensa

Myra Driscoll es una leyenda en su pueblo natal, Parthia, al sur de Illinois: renunció a una fortuna familiar y a un destino de princesa para casarse con el hombre al que amaba. Pero esta elección libre, dictada sólo por la fidelidad a sí misma, que en un primer momento la lleva a una vida artística y esplendorosa en la vorágine de Nueva York, con el tiempo muestra otra cara, un final empobrecido junto a la costa del Pacífico. A través de la mirada reducida, jamesiana, de una narradora externa a los hechos, que los ha presenciado de forma episódica pero que acaba comprometiéndose emocional e imaginariamente con ellos, Willa Cather construye en Mi enemigo mortal (1926) un espléndido relato acerca de la ambición y el desencanto, fundado en un escrupuloso trabajo sobre el punto de vista y la concentración narrativa, y atravesado por un sentido excepcional del pathos. La novela es una parábola rica y profunda, perfecto ejemplo del estilo de una de las narradoras más importantes de la literatura norteamericana de principios de siglo.

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Alba Editorial
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 21 jun 2012
• ISBN: 9788484287674

Willa Cather

Willa Cather (1873-1947) was an award-winning American author. As she wrote her numerous novels, Cather worked as both an editor and a high school English teacher. She gained recognition for her novels about American frontier life, particularly her Great Plains trilogy. Most of her works, including the Great Plains Trilogy, were dedicated to her suspected lover, Isabelle McClung, who Cather herself claimed to have been the biggest advocate of her work. Cather is both a Pulitzer Prize winner and has received a gold medal from the Institute of Arts and Letters for her fiction.

Vista previa del libro

ÍNDICE

Nota al texto

Primera parte

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

Segunda parte

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

Notas

Créditos

Alba

NOTA AL TEXTO

Mi enemigo mortal se publicó en 1926. La traducción que aquí presentamos se basa en la edición de Virago Press (Londres, 1982).

Primera parte

I

Conocí a Myra Henshawe cuando tenía quince años, pero recordaba haber oído hablar de ella desde que tenía uso de razón. Myra se había fugado para casarse, y su historia era la más interesante que se contaba en nuestra familia; de hecho, era la única historia interesante que podía oírse durante las vacaciones o en las reuniones familiares. Mi madre y mis tías seguían recibiendo noticias de Myra Driscoll, que era como la llamaban ellas, y tía Lydia iba a Nueva York de vez en cuando para visitarla. En su juventud, Myra había sido la figura más brillante y atractiva dentro de su círculo de amigos, y había tenido una vida tan emocionante y variopinta como monótona era la nuestra.

Aunque había crecido en nuestra ciudad, Parthia, en el sur de Illinois, Myra Henshawe no volvió a pisarla tras su fuga, salvo en una ocasión. Fue el año en que yo terminaba el instituto; ella debía de tener unos cuarenta y cinco años. Llegó con el comienzo del otoño, tras enviar un breve telegrama de aviso. Su marido, que ocupaba un cargo en las oficinas de Nueva York de una compañía de ferrocarriles del Este, tenía que viajar al Oeste por negocios, de modo que interrumpirían el viaje un par de días para pasarlos en Parthia. Él iba a alojarse en el Parthian, que era el nombre de nuestro nuevo hotel, y la señora Henshawe iba a quedarse en casa de tía Lydia.

Mi tía Lydia sentía una gran predilección por mí. Tenía tres hijos mayores, pero ninguna hija, y opinaba que mi madre no sabía apreciar mi valía. En consecuencia, me proporcionaba continuamente ciertos «privilegios» adicionales, como decía ella. A mi madre y a mi hermana, las invitó a cenar en su casa la noche en que llegaban los Henshawe, pero a mí me susurró: «Quiero que vengas temprano, más o menos una hora antes que los demás, para que conozcas a Myra».

Aquella noche entré calladamente por la puerta principal de la casa de mi tía y, mientras me quitaba el abrigo en el vestíbulo, vi a una mujer baja y rechoncha vestida de terciopelo negro, sentada en el sofá del extremo más alejado del salón, tocando la guitarra del primo Bert. Debió de oírme, y al levantar la vista vio mi imagen en un espejo. Dejó la guitarra, se levantó y aguardó a que me acercara. Su inmovilidad era absoluta, con los hombros echados hacia atrás y el mentón en alto, como si quisiera recordarme que me correspondía a mí acercarme con la mayor rapidez posible y presentarme tan bien como supiera. Yo no estaba acostumbrada a formalidades de ningún tipo, pero ella consiguió transmitirme esa idea con su actitud.

Me apresuré a cruzar la salita con una expresión de tal perplejidad y desasosiego que soltó una breve carcajada de conmiseración al tiempo que me ofrecía su encantadora mano, regordeta y menuda.

–¡Tú debes de ser la querida Nellie de Lydia, de la que tanto he oído hablar! Y si no me falla mi lamentable aritmética, has cumplido ya los quince, ¿no es verdad?

Qué voz tan hermosa tenía, sonora, alegre y despreocupada en su amabilidad; pero su pose seguía siendo altiva. Siempre actuaba así cuando conocía a alguien; creo que se debía en parte a que empezaba a tener papada y quería disimularla. Sus ojos grises, muy hundidos y brillantes, parecían examinarme de los pies a la cabeza, juzgándome. Pese a que no era más alta que yo, me sentí absolutamente abrumada por su presencia y estúpida, desesperadamente torpe y estúpida. Llevaba los negros cabellos recogidos en un moño alto al estilo Pompadour, con curiosos mechones de lustroso color blanco, rizados y zigzagueantes, que parecían vellones de cabra persa o de algún animal que tuviera un sedoso pelaje. Me era imposible sostener su mirada curiosa y juguetona, de modo que dirigí la vista hacia el collar de amatistas talladas que colgaba sobre el escote cuadrado de su vestido. Supongo que me quedé mirándolo fijamente porque de pronto me dijo:

–¿Te molesta el collar? Dímelo y me lo quito.

Me quedé muda. Notaba que me ardían las mejillas. Ella se dio cuenta de que me había ofendido y lo lamentó; me rodeó impulsivamente con el brazo, me llevó hasta la esquina del sofá y se sentó a mi lado.

–¡Oh, ya nos acostumbraremos la una a la otra! Verás, te pincho un poco porque estoy segura de que Lydia y tu madre te tienen un poco mimada. Te han alabado demasiado al hablarme de ti. Está muy bien ser inteligente, querida, pero no debes tomártelo demasiado en serio; no hay nada que sea más aburrido. Bueno, intentemos conocernos. Cuéntame cuáles son las cosas que más te gustan; ése es el camino más corto hacia la amistad. ¿Qué es lo que más te gusta de Parthia? ¿La casa del viejo Driscoll? ¡Estaba segura!

Cuando llegó su marido, yo ya había empezado a pensar que iba a gustarle. Deseaba que fuera así, pero tenía la impresión de que no se me concedería

Comentarios para Mi enemigo mortal

[janeajones · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

My Mortal Enemy tells the tale of Myra Henshawe, who defied her great-uncle/guardian and lost her inheritance to elope with the love of her life in a grand gesture. The story is narrated by Nellie, niece of Lydia, Myra's childhood friend. In Part One, Nellie is 15 when she first meets Myra, now in her 40's. Part Two takes place 10 years later as Myra is dying, bitterly regretting much of her life. As narrator, Nellie is part innocent observer, part judge of character, and part authorial voice. There are the usual strengths in Cather's writing, but I found the novella rather truncated, stingy almost. I prefer Cather in her amplitude, rather than in a condensed, short form.

[auntmarge64 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

Minor Cather but lyrical, as with most of her work. I usually find her sparseness lovely, but here it leaves a bit too much unsaid, so despite the beauty of the writing, there are too many loose ends.

[gbill_7 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

Rich girl renounces wealth to elope with boy, but it turns out that neither she nor he live "happily ever after". Cather writes with purity and simplicity in this novella, and the uttering of the title comes like a thunderbolt towards the end.Quotes:On married life:"'But they've been happy, anyhow?' I sometimes asked her.'Happy? Oh yes! As happy as most people.'That answer was disheartening; the very point of their story was that they should be much happier than other people."On middle age:"After I went home from that first glimpse of the real Myra Henshawe, twenty-five years older than I had always imagined her, I could not help feeling a little disappointed. John Driscoll and his niece had suddenly changed places in my mind, and he had got, after all, the more romantic part. Was it not better to get out of the world with such pomp and dramatic splendour than to linger in it, having to take account of shirts and railway trains, and getting a double chin into the bargain?"And this one as well, also reflecting unrealized potential:"I wondered, as on the first time I saw him, in my own town, at the contradiction in his face: the strong bones, and the curiously shaped eyes without any fire in them. I felt that his life had not suited him; that he possessed some kind of courage and force which slept, which in another sort of world might have asserted themselves brilliantly. I thought he ought to have been a soldier or an explorer."On nature, and redemption:"I'd love to see this place at dawn," Myra said suddenly. "That is always such a forgiving time. When that first cold, bright streak comes over the water, it's as if all our sins were pardoned; as if the sky leaned over the earth and kissed it and gave it absolution. You know how the great sinners always came home to die in some religious house, and the abbot or the abbess went out and received them with a kiss?"On youth:"We think we are so individual and so misunderstood when we are young; but the nature our strain of blood carries is inside there, waiting, like our exoskeleton.""To throw his youth away like that, and shoot himself at twenty-three! People are always talking about the joys of youth - but oh, how youth can suffer! I've not forgotten; those hot southern Illinois nights, when Oswald was in New York, and I had no word from him except through Liddy, and I used to lie on the floor all night and listen to the express trains go by. I've not forgotten."On artists:"How the great poets do shine on, Nellie! Into all the dark corners of the world. They have no night."Klein's introduction was insightful, though as with all introductions, read it at the end to avoid spoiling the story and such that you have your own opinions based on what you've read, it's then like getting another viewpoint which you can accept some bits of and leave others. Some of the bits I liked:"Willa Cather's mode was elegy, and as it must be for all elegists, the enemy was time, mortality itself.""Will Cather was to remark that 'human relationships are the tragic necessity of human life; that they can never be wholly satisfactory, that every ego is half the time greedily seeking them, and half the time pulling away from them.'""There were others at the time of her greatest production who also made a religion of craftsmanship - Gertrude Stein, who was her exact contemporary, Ezra Pound, Hemingway - but next to Willa Cather they seem sloganeers. She quite alone, and without making a public campaign of it, put in the work and acheived a relentless purity of style. Never so pure and relentless as in 'My Mortal Enemy'."

[rbeffa_2 · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This is a short novel/novella from the 1920's. The language and storytelling was beautiful. This turns out to be a rather sad story, eventually throwing ice water on running away for romantic love. We see parts of the life of Myra Henshawe and her husband Oswald through the eyes of young Nellie. Nellie is 15 when she first meets Myra at 45. Nellie has heard family stories, the stuff of legend, of the young Myra and is rather surprised at the reality. Myra seems to be rather quickly moving from nice to not so nice. Myra ends up living a broken life, having given up an inheritance to marry the man she loved. That isn't how it begins, but that is how it ends. Interesting set of characters and very descriptive scenes made this very much worth reading, but as I said, rather sad by the end.Cather is quite a writer. 3 1/2 - 4 stars

[rainpebble_1 · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

My Mortal Enemy by Willa Cather; (3*)The protagonist in this novel, Myra, is not a sympathetic character. In the beginning one thinks she is doing the right thing for the right reason but with her small minded ways she eventually ruins both she and her husband's lives and so they live out their days in misery.Myra was an orphan raised by her very wealthy Great Uncle John and she was the apple of his eye. She had everything she wanted and then some. As she grew into her teen years she fell in love with the 'wrong' man, Oswald, according to her uncle. Oswald had put himself through University and had a promising future but there was bad blood and a grudge between Oswald's father and Myra's Great Uncle John. He and he forbade his great niece to have anything to do with Oswald.Though it was forbidden she continued to write and to see him through her Aunt Lydia, who was their go between, and he had his letters to Myra sent there and she had hers to him posted from there.Her uncle's will left her two thirds of his remaining fortune while one third was to go the the church. However if she married this man she would not see a penny.The story was told at every family gathering. How Myra had fallen in love with with a man her uncle did not approve of and in eloping with him she lost a great fortune. Such a romantic story but unbeknownst to the family, as the years went on, Myra became condescending toward Oswald and was also a spendthrift. Of course the marriage soured somewhat but the couple remained together and Oswald was ever devoted to her.As I read this small novel I wondered how Myra had come to be this way but then I realized that many marriages do indeed turn thusly. Cather has, in the writing of this novel, kept herself in check through the entirety of the book. I doubt there is a spare word throughout. It is a quick read and worthy of the reading but I was not charmed by it. I don't believe it was written to be a charming book. While it is a quick read I didn't find it an especially easy read. I don't believe it was written to be an easy read. There is so much between the lines here that I am sure I will one day need to read it again. Even now I am looking at it and thinking: Hmmm.......

[upstairsgirl · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

What a strange, sad little book this is. I agree with the reviewer who recommends not reading Kilby's introduction to the Vintage Classics edition; it's muddled my thinking about the book completely.Cather, in her understated way, shows the reader the great tragedy of Myra Henshawe's life, which is that love, by itself, simply isn't enough to make Myra happy. Though Myra left her family and gave up her inheritance to marry her husband, their marriage is no more than ordinary, plagued by the same jealousies, banalities, and tiresome social obligations as everyone else's. Though Myra seems happy when we first meet her, later on, when she and her husband have fallen into poverty, she is ill and miserable, melodramatic and tyrranical, and, in fact, as ordinary in her unhappiness as she was in her previous happiness. Resentful of (and hateful towards) her husband, even as he acts as her nursemaid and provider, she allows her reduced circumstances to turn her into a whining, querulous, melodramatic old woman.Though it is tempting to view Myra's death as a redemption or a recovering of her dignity, it is, I think, simply another selfish act, the sad punctuation at the end of a life begun with a brilliant, grand gesture and yet lived with crushing ordinariness under a thin, brittle veneer of excitement and bliss.Beautifully terse, and well worth reading, though very different from much of Cather's other work.

[a_musing · Calificación: 5 de 5 estrellas]

I don't understand why this work is not "ranked" higher in Cather's ouevre - perhaps it was just not long enough for critics and classes. It's a gem.

[drfuriosa · Calificación: 3 de 5 estrellas]

An interesting take on the labyrinths of the moral imagination.

[sidiki-8 · Calificación: 2 de 5 estrellas]

it was my desire to read at least one book of WillaCather, so i picked this one up. i dont know what the hype is about for her writing. My Mortal Enemy is all ''telling'' with hardly any dialogues. it does contain some insightful passages and ''writerly'' phrases. i found the personality of Myra too realistic, with her insecurities and jealous streak, her temper tantrums and her treatment of her husband whom she married by giving up her inheritance. i like realistic protagonists who are flawed like us but Oswald's character has not been dealt with in as much detail, so it left me feeling unsatisfied. if there was any hidden meaning behind the words ''my mortal enemy'' as she utters them, it flew right over my head. i will not give up on her yet and give My Antonia a chance.