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Enric Bou - 1999 - Churches and Streetcars in Barcelona Ways To Modernity PDF
Enric Bou - 1999 - Churches and Streetcars in Barcelona Ways To Modernity PDF
Enric Bou
To cite this article: Enric Bou (1999) Churches and Streetcars in Barcelona: Ways to Modernity,
Romance Quarterly, 46:4, 204-215, DOI: 10.1080/08831159909600327
Article views: 23
W
hen Antoni Gaudi was criticized for his awkward reform of the
Presbytery in Palma de Mallorca’s cathedral he answered, ac-
cording to popular legend, in pure Gaudinian style: A streetcar
is also a work of art.’ Gaudi is best known for the powerful
Sagrada Familia temple, still under construction, which can be read as a life-size
illustration of some of the conflicts introduced by industrialization. Ironically,
Gaudi was killed by a streetcar in 1926 while on his way to the Sagrada Familia
construction site. Churches and streetcars were ever-present items in modern
cities throughout the industrialized world, but perhaps in Barcelona they epito-
mize the beauties and pitfalls of life in modernity. I would like to explore some of
the conflicts expressed by these two symbols as they are used by Catalan artists
and writers.
Turn-of-the-century Barcelona was a city booming with industrial activity.
Industrialization had introduced many changes in its daily life, bringing hordes
of immigrants from nearby and remote mountain towns. The city would soon be
known as one of the most conflict-beset in Europe, ruled by the clash between
groups of anarchists and a very religious, conservative bourgeoisie. In 1850 the
city walls had been torn down, opening up new space for expansion. CerdA’s Eix-
amplp gave the city much-needed space for new dwellings. It was in this new part
of the city that two different objects--churches and streetcars-became power-
ful symbols of the contradictions and necessities of the modern world.
Catholic churches are spaces that traditionally have been dedicated to devo-
tion, temples where people have gathered since Roman times. In the case of
204
Barcelona, the old city is dotted with churches, and all have powerful connec-
tions to the city’s past: the Cathedral, Santa Maria del Mar, Esglisia del Pi,
Betlem, to name just a few. New temples spread dramatically in the new neigh-
borhoods created during the nineteenth century, mainly in the Eixample. One of
them, the Sagrada Familia, had a powerful meaning in the social fight between
unionized workers and capitalists that characterized the industrial world.
Besides being a new means of transportation, streetcars helped shape a new
society, providing not only a different way to communicate and go places, but also
a mobile space in which people could share time without doing anything, forced
into contact with each other. Furthermore, streetcars, with their massive presence
and electrical power, are quite dangerous, tend to monopolize the street, and
together with trains and automobiles, became symbols of modernity. They offered
an unequivocal connection between the old and the new, in that their earlier ver-
sions were a mixture of nature and mechanical engineering. Until the turn of the
century, when they became electric, streetcars were just a carriage put on a rail and
pulled by horses. With their massive presence, streetcars invaded urban space and
also established a correlation between the urban center and periphery (suburbs).*
In the imagination of inhabitants of turn-of-the-century Barcelona, churches
and streetcars were powerful symbols connected to two different worlds, their
juxtaposition a reminder of the clash between past and present, between forces
resisting change of the status-quo and those fighting for renewal and progress.
That clash took place at the social, religious, and political levels, with serious
repercussions in the arts and literature of the time.
Churches and streetcars can be related to the equation established by Jean
Starobinski in a celebrated article in which, through a reading of Baudelaire’s first
poem in the “Tableaux parisiens,” he defined a concept of modernity based on the
coexistence of two worlds, represented by chimneys alongside architectural spires.
He detected what is most characteristic of modernity, the coexistence of elements
of two very different worlds and times in one single space. That coexistence takes
place in the modern city, where people are constantly aware of the lack of nature
(whence the longing for parks and garden^)^ and the overwhelming presence of
industry. Starobinski also pointed out the special position of the poet-observer,
who sees things from far away and belongs neither to the universe of religion nor
to that of labor: “la perte du sujet dans la foule-ou, ?t l’inverse, le pouvoir absolu
revendiqui par la conscience individuelle” (26). In this sense the equation of
churches and streetcars has a powerful new meaning. They relate to very different
conceptions of the world, but they share an urban space, and the very contradic-
tion of their coexistence makes that space unique. Literary and artistic reaction to
this coexistence establishes a particular moment in cultural history.
Many of the best literary works and paintings about Barcelona in early twenti-
eth century and beyond reproduce with striking fidelity the many changes in the
process of modernization. The sharp contrast between a passion for the church or
the streetcar (or an assimilation of both) becomes a remarkable point of i n t e r e ~ t . ~
In Barcelona, anarchists were summarily executed for burning a church or throw-
Y el templo se me aparecici, como siempre, como a cantos, como una gran ruina; o
como un gran palomar, que dijo una niha a su primera vista. . . . Pero a mi me pen-
etra mlis la sensaci6n de ruina; y me halaga, porque sabiendo que aquella ruina es un
nacirniento, me redime de la tristeza de todas las ruinas; y ya desde que conozco esta
construcci6n que parece una destruccih, todas las destrucciones pueden parecerme
construcciones. (198 1, 11727)’
He continues his visit and realizes that metaphorically there is more light
inside than outside, as he goes through a process in which he imagines that the
stone has turned into light. This attention to elements from nature when describ-
ing the building is remarkable because it is essentially what he did in one of his
most famous poems, “Oda Nova a Barcelona” (1709). The poem is divided into
two parts; in the first, the poet engages in a dialogue with the city and with a pre-
vious poem, “Oda a Barcelona” (1883), by Jacint Verdaguer. In the second part,
the revolutionary events of July 1909, the Tragic Week, interrupt the poem.
What was a placid dialogue written in alexandrine quatrains becomes an admo-
nition to the city of Barcelona written in free verse, in which the poet tries to elu-
cidate virtues and failings associated with the city, concluding:
Before that final stanza he had introduced an allusion to the Sagrada Familia:
In the 1906 text, Maragall saw the temple as a dovecote, but now it becomes a
mystical flower, symbol of the city’s redemption, as he also stated in articles of the
same period (see Maragall Obra casteflana).
Churches were not only sacred spaces for the dominant religion and for pub-
lic gatherings to celebrate Mass but also a symbol hated by the working class. At
a time of acute social unrest, churches became targets for attacks by extremist
groups. Joan Ullman has explained that a latent force in any Catholic society is
the layperson’s natural resentment of the clergy’s privileged position. In Barcelona
and in Spain at large there was much animosity against the clergy because of their
dominant role in the education of the wealthy, their vast amount of property, and
vague suspicions about their obscure system of financing (27-47). According to
Ullman, approximately eighty religious buildings (including churches, schools,
residences, and convents) were burnt down during the Tragic Week of July 1909
(326). Joan Maragall recalled a moving experience he had while attending Mass
at a burned-out church. In this case, he establishes a parallel with the first Chris-
tians and uses the occasion to discuss his principle that hate should be fought
with love:
I estic ben cert que tots els que Crem alli, davant del Sacrifici celebrat en la pobra
mesa de fusta blanca, davant del G i s t rnaltractat, que era tot son ornament, entre la
pols i la runa i el vent i el sol que entraven, i sentint encara entorn nostre el rastre
de desrrucci6 i blasfemia que de tan poc havien passar per aquell mateix aire on ara
tornava a fer-se present el Sacrific, el sentiem corn rnai I’haguCssem sentit i ens pen-
etrava amb una virtut nova i actual, com sols poguessen haver-la experimentada els
primers crisrians perseguits i amagats en un rac6 de les catacumbes, delicant-se
majorment entre el perill i la negaci6, en la iniciaci6 del Misteri redemptor [. . .]
(1981, 1777)
Other writers and artists were much more forcehlly enthusiastic about moder-
nity and its new objects. Torres Garcia and Rafael Barradas, both natives of
Uruguay, spent a few years in Barcelona in the early twentieth century and paint-
ed many urban landscapes filled with streetcars and other remarkable objects of
And by the final line the passenger fears for his own safety:
Acabava de Ilenpr el meu bitller quan I’inspector, bufat, em rehsi l’excusa: calia
abonar de nou el trajecte. Contra el costum fou ell rnateix qui ern lliurh rebut: un
manyoc de bitllets multicolors em floria de sobte entre mans rnentre I’inspector em
befava amb cadencia perquk distingis el meu. El seu esguard voraG em xuclava les rels
del cabell i em sentia per momenrs esdevenir calb. Hauria aixecat el bra$ amenaGador,
si la funebre sensaci6 de tenir-lo amputat sofa I’aixella no m’haguis aturat la voluntat
i enterbolit el seny el qual s’obstinava a engrandir una llintia groga que I’inspector
Ilu‘ia arran rnateix d‘un bot6 arnb imatgeria &ex-vot. [. . .] de la parada, vaig rnirar
enrere i em vaig adonar que en aquell paratge no hi havia instal’laci6 trarnvihria. El
tram, sense rodes, arnb la carrosseria esbotzada i el trblei malmks, tenia I’aspecte de
fer anyades a desdir que es podria sobre I’areny a I’embat del temps. (26-27)
Vaig respirar corn si el rn6n fos meu. I vaig anar-me’n. Havia de mirar de no caure,
de no fer-me atropellar, d’anar amb compte amb els trarnvies, sobretot arnb els que
baixaven, de conservar el cap damunt del coll i anar ben dret cap a casa: sense veure
els llurns blaus. Sobretot sense veure els llurns blaus. (192)’’
Her adverse reaction to the urban environment must intensify before it can dis-
sipate. All signs of modern life scare her:
Vivia tancada a casa. El carrer em feia por. Aixi que treia el nas a fora, m’esverava la
gent, els autombbils, els autobusos, les motos [. . .]. Tenia el cor petit. Nornb esta-
va be a casa. (217)
In one of the most moving episodes of the novel, after her daughter’s wedding,
Colometa leaves her new house at dawn and walks through the neighborhood
where she had spent her youth, her early years of deep pain and fight for survival.
Finally, she dares to go across the Carrer Gran, a street that repeatedly had been
too imposing for her. This time she masters the situation; she is finally in control
of her life and Rodoreda shows the character going across the street as if she were
crossing a river:
I quan vaig arribar a1 carrer Gran vaig carninar per I’acera de rajola a rajola, fins arrib-
ar a la pedra llarga del cantell i alli em vaig quedar corn una fusta per fora, amb tota
una puja de coses que del cor m’anaven a1 cap. (248)
T h e streetcar is not only seen as an object that has witnessed her past. At the same
time, its fantastic appearance (“aixecant espurnes vermelles i blaves entre les rodes
i els rah“) allows Colometa to overcome her fear of the future, her morbid attrac-
tion to the past. That is, being able to go across the street without any fear means
that she is in control of her own life since streetcars are no longer menacing objects.
The distinction between churches and streetcars makes us aware that both coex-
ist in an industrialized metropolis and have very different meanings. As Marc
Augi’s distinction between places and nonplaces suggests, a certain place can be
considered a space if it be can defined as relational, historical, and concerned with
identity. It does not take long to decide which of the two is a place--obviously,
the church-and which one is a nonplace, the streetcar. O n e is a powerful sym-
bol that stresses the relationship with the past of a certain society, its millenary reli-
gious traditions; the other represents an open door to the future. O n e of the char-
acteristics of the modern city is a different sense of spaces as an outcome of the
combination of spaces with history and spaces that are completely new. Slowly,
streetcars, which used to be nonplaces, have become as relational, historical, and
concerned with identity as any other, thanks to the efforts ofwriters and painters.
Churches and streetcars coexist in modernity, and they are excellent examples of
links to the past, open gates to the future. Many of these writers and painters,
when in need of a characteristic trait in the urban landscape of Barcelona, always
include a streetcar, which happens to run near a church. This coexistence becomes
a sort of fixture of modernity, of its achievements and shortcomings.
Brown University
NOTES
1. Josep Carner, Les bonhomies i altresproses (Barcelona: Edicions 62, 1981) 69.
2. As in most big cities throughout the industrialized world, streetcars had been a part
of Barcelona’s landscape since the early 1880s. At first they were called “La Catalana” or
also “Ripperts” (or “tramvies Iliures”), because they did not circulate on rails but were
pulled by horses. They were used until the 1920s when they were bought by the compa-
WORKS CITED