*If you must know, from Three Classic Don Juan Plays, edited by Oscar Mandel, 1971 edition. I read this both for Spanish Lit Month hosted by Stu of Winstons dad’s blog and Richard of Caravana de recuerdos and as part of a readalong (originally planned for June) hosted by Richard. After all, I was so focused on basic meaning that I barely even noticed the rhyme schemes employed throughout. And without a better hold on Spanish, I can’t even begin to comment on the language of the play.
The importance of honor for both men and women, and the different concepts of justice then and now. The limitations placed on both the women, and on the nobility–were not Don Juan’s fated decided by his sin, his King would chose his path for him. The variety of women–for although most–but not all!–fall for Don Juan, they are each a different character with different responses. The basic outlines are there, I know the plot, and can begin to see some threads of ideas to explore. (If you know of a good one I could get, do let me know.) Despite reading the Spanish second, and slowly (verrrrry slowly), I still feel as if I need another few go-throughs before I can really get to the heart of this play. I do wish I had a better translation of “El burlador de Sevilla” on hand. Were it not for this moral, it would have felt in some ways like reading a Shakespearean comedy: deceptions and wrongs, but with everything turned right in the end (save Don Juan, of course), all told in poetic meter and fast-paced action among quickly-shifting scenes. He does not repent until too late–and likely only out of desperation doubtless Molina intended this as a morality play. His sins are not only his deceptive seductions, but also murder and arrogance.
But this play is in the hands of a Catholic monk (Tirso de Molina was the pseudonym for Fray Gabriel Téllez), so consequence there must be. Indeed, the question may be whether he takes more delight in the women or in the engaño (trick or deception) he pulls. “El burlador de Sevilla” was the first dramatization of the Don Juan legend (although not perhaps the best known–Mozart’s opera Don Giovanni likely holds that title), the story of a womanizing trickster who seemingly seduces every woman he meets, heedless of consequence, and seeming to delight even in seducing the women his own friends love. (Is there a recorded version anywhere, though?) I would LOVE to see it performed, but that seems highly unlikely. The English left me feeling ambivalent towards it (turning it into prose is a travesty), but after conquering the Spanish, I find I like “El burlador de Sevilla” much better.
Assuming the section hadn’t been omitted, of course.) Thank goodness for online translation dictionaries! (I will admit, the English translation did at least give me a go by to help with some of the trickier places.
#El burlador de sevilla english act 1 license#
I feel like that’s taking poetic license a bit far! So all this to say, instead of reading through the Spanish for a general sense of the language and sounds of the original, instead I found myself trying to understand the entire thing. But on top of that, lines were reassigned to different speakers, sections were left out and an entire passage (a lengthy three-page monologue) was dramatically condensed and reassigned to a different speaker in a different act and there were even brand-new lines of dialogue added†. ( Though Grossman proves it very doable.) Of course, it turns out that I’m a reader that wants the translation to at least follow the from of the original. Fair enough, translation of poetry is understandably difficult. First, it was in prose rather than making any attempt to match the poetry of the original. Turns out, the English translation I have* is…lacking. The English read quickly enough, although I found myself with nothing to say about the play.
It was an easy enough decision–I had both on hand, hand-me-downs from an aunt who once-upon-a-time was a Spanish teacher (before moving on to other things). At first it seemed it would work out well: similar to my method of reading The Golden Age: Poems of the Spanish Renaissance, I decided read an English translation followed by the Spanish. You know how sometimes you decide to do something that seems like a really good idea at the time, but in execution turns out to be not so great? Yeah, that would be my brilliant idea to read “El burlador de Sevilla” in Spanish. My edition from Diez Comedias del Siglo de Oro, 2nd edition