In Diamond Square

diamond square

At the end of last year, a number of other bloggers I follow decided to take part in the Classics Club challenge (to read fifty classics in five years). Initially it seemed very much my kind of thing: it involved books and a list for a start. It also identified a problem created by keeping up with the latest releases: never finding the time to fill in the gaps in your personal reading history. Twenty years ago I had taken part in my own classics challenge, attempting to read all the major novels in English beginning with Robinson Crusoe in 1719 and getting as far as Silas Marner in 1861 over the course of four years. This was, of course, a fairly rigorous definition of classic, and the looseness of today’s equivalent (for example, allowing novels only twenty-five years old to be included) was one reason I resisted – that and the fact I knew that I would never stick to a list over five years anyway.

Instead I sought a more straight-forward solution: simply read at least one classic each month. with no need to decide anything in advance of picking up the book. I made it a little harder on myself by insisting that, in order to count, the book would either need to be a universally recognised classic, or published by a classics imprint (though, as this is largely a marketing technique, I wasn’t making it that difficult). This lack of planning paid off when I came across Merce Rodoreda’s In Diamond Square in my local library. I was aware that Open Letter had been translating and publishing some of Rodoreda’s novels, but didn’t know that Virago Modern Classics (you see how it works?) had issued a new translation of her Spanish Civil War novel by Peter Bush in 2013. As it’s regarded as one of the most important Catalan novels of the last century, it qualifies as a classic in every sense.

In Diamond Square is the story of a woman’s life. It begins as Natalia leaves her childhood behind when she meets a young man, Joe, at a dance in the square of the title. Joe is a forceful, charismatic character; he tells Natalia, whom he immediately rechristens Pidgey, she’ll “be his wife within a year.” As Natalia runs from him, perhaps her final childish action, the elastic on her petticoat snaps as she sheds clothes which no longer fit her, just as she discards the notion of herself as a “little girl.”

“I got home and threw myself on my bed in the dark, my little girl’s brass bed, as if I was hurling a stone at it.”

Natalia and Joe marry within the first thirty pages: one of the most invigorating aspects of the novel is the breathless pace with which it proceeds. One way Rodoreda achieves this is beginning sentences, paragraphs and even chapters with ‘and.’ Here is the opening of Chapter XI in which Natalia gives birth (five pages after we discover she is pregnant):

“And that first scream of mine was deafening. Who’d have thought my voice could carry so far or last so long?”

You might worry that such speed necessitates a lack of detail and yet both Natalia and Joe are fully rounded characters. Joe is not the perfect husband but neither is he caricatured as a bad one. He has faults such as his occasional jealousies and the suspicion that the sore leg he so often complains of is largely in his mind, but his affection for Natalia, and later their children, is also evident.

If the novel were only a picture of their relationship it would be a very good one, but this is a marriage which is interrupted by the Spanish Civil War. Joe goes to fight leaving Natalia alone with their two children, Anthony and Rita. This is not a novel for those interested in the causes or course of the war itself; what follows is a moving portrait of how war affects civilians:

“The gas went. I mean it didn’t reach the flat or the underground rooms in the house I cleaned… Joe was also running around on the streets and every day I’d think that would be the last I’d see of him… after several days of smoke and churches in flames, he walked in with a revolver in his belt and a double-barrelled shotgun over his shoulder….The grocer’s downstairs was soon cleaned out…”

As the war goes on, food becomes scarcer and scarcer:

“It was a real struggle to buy food because I had hardly any money and because there was no food to buy. The milk contained no milk in it. The meat, when there was any, was horsemeat, so they said.”

Natalia sells everything she owns and, at one point, has to send Anthony away because she cannot feed him.

In Diamond Square is a wonderful book, the portrait of a woman as a survivor. As Rodoreda says in her introduction:

“Pidgey does what she must do within the situation she finds herself in, and to do what must be done and no more reveals a natural talent that deserves the greatest respect.”


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20 Responses to “In Diamond Square”

  1. naomifrisby Says:

    I’d never heard of this book before I opened your blog tonight and now I want to read it, it sounds wonderful.

  2. roughghosts Says:

    Grant you are reading too much too fast, I can’t even keep up with your reviews! Just kidding of course. My life has been a little stressful (to put it mildly) so far this year that I have hardly gotten through a book and some of my fellow bloggers seem to be pumping out reviews like crazy.

    Of course being slower in my reading has not meant slower in my buying and I was eyeing Rodoreda’s two Open Letter titles at the bookstore yesterday and talked myself out of buying them. But I will give in one of these days in a moment of reckless weakness no doubt. I have never heard of this one but it does sound really good too.

  3. JacquiWine Says:

    I’d heard of this author before your post appeared, but I can’t think where, possibly via Stu or Richard as part of Spanish Lit Month. Anyway, the book sounds excellent. I’m always fascinated by this period of history. As a slight aside, have you seen the film Pan’s Labyrinth, set at the time of the Civil War? I couldn’t help but think about it as I was reading your review.

    • 1streading Says:

      Yes, I have seen Pan’s Labyrinth – but it’s due a second viewing. I’m also fascinated with this period, and really enjoyed a different perspective. It would be perfect for Spanish Lit Month.

  4. BookerTalk Says:

    Yiu might well have provided me the breakthrough I needed with Spanish literature. I’ve not enjoyed any of the big name authors from that country so far. This does sound more appealing

  5. Scott W Says:

    I’ve come close to reading Rodoreda before, but haven’t yet gotten there. This one sounds more interesting than the other couple that I’ve seen in English, and Peter Bush as translator is a big plus.

    Who was in charge of Virago back at its peak? It’s astounding the vision that person had, as so many of those works now seem to be catching fire – alas, in other publishers’ editions.

    • 1streading Says:

      This is actually a new translation from 2013 – it’s the same novel previously translated as The Time of the Doves. It’s interesting that you mention Virago at its peak, though, as it brought back to me how many of its titles I once read.

  6. Tony Says:

    I’ll be reading Rodoreda soon (I got some ecopies of the Open Letter books), so this is one I might have to have a look at in the future. Not sure I would have picked it up from that cover, though…

    • 1streading Says:

      Neither would I if it hadn’t been a library book – possibly why so many people have commented they weren’t aware of it. I’ll be interested to hear what you make of her other books.

  7. Max Cairnduff Says:

    The cover is pretty dire. They’re clearly trying to make it look like “women’s fiction”, a term I hate and which is depressingly reductive and highly misleading.

    Count me as another unaware of it. I’m reminded slightly of Peirene Press’s Stones in a Landslide (also Spanish), which I was quite impressed by. Have you read that?

    • 1streading Says:

      Yes, that’s how the cover struck me too – and perhaps why so many people have not noticed it. I have read Stones in a Landslide and even the style is slightly reminiscent of that.

  8. The Selected Stories of Mercè Rodoreda, translated by Martha Tennent | ANZ LitLovers LitBlog Says:

    […] Mercè Rodoreda made an unhappy marriage to an uncle much older than she was, and she began her writing career as an escape, going on to become the most important Catalan writer of the postwar period and writing the most acclaimed Catalan novel of all time (La plaça del diamant (‘The diamond square’, translated as The Time of the Doves, 1962).  Wikipedia says that this novel is also considered by many to be one of the best novels published in Spain after the Spanish Civil War.  (See Grant’s review at 1st Reading if you need any convincing).  […]

  9. In Diamond Square, by Mercè Rodoreda, translated by Peter Bush | ANZ LitLovers LitBlog Says:

    […] the 1986 translation by David H. Rosenthal as The Time of the Doves, and the recommendation from Grant at 1st Reading was all the persuasion I needed to get a copy of that too. It is very powerful […]

  10. Death in Spring | 1streading's Blog Says:

    […] is not my first exposure to Merce Rodoreda’s work, but neither her Spanish Civil War novel, In Diamond Square, nor the wider historical sweep of A Broken Mirror, had prepared me for the intense otherness of […]

  11. Forty Lost Years | 1streading's Blog Says:

    […] slightly younger than the author. Though an obvious comparison for the novel is Merce Rodereda’s In Diamond Square, which has also been translated by Peter Bush, Laura reminded me much more of the protagonists of […]

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