The Spanish Emilia Pardo Bazán tells us the story of a woman allegedly dead, who awakes and eagerly returns home. But her family reacts contrary to what she expected.
In the comments we talk about the possibility of someone returning from the dead, the latest news of the program and we close with the biography of today's author.
The Spanish Emilia Pardo Bazán tells us the story of a woman allegedly dead, who awakes and eagerly returns home. But her family reacts contrary to what she expected.
In the comments we talk about the possibility of someone returning from the dead, the latest news of the program and we close with the biography of today's author.
This episode of Tres Cuentos Podcast was produced with support from PRX and the Google Podcasts creator program.
First story (Feminista)
Parte 1
Read by Don Hymel
[…]
Like all those who had an enjoyable and libertine youth, at forty Abréu became a severe moralist. After being called to mend his bachelor’s ways, he finally agreed to marry. Emotions aside, it was more like deciding to move into a prettier apartment.
He found that with a girl, Clotildita. She was cute and well-educated, and was without any expectations. Her parents gave her to him gladly because Abréu had a pleasing personality and tey knew he would always have excellent job opportunities.
The couple was married, and the morning after the wedding, when Clotildita woke up, still dazzled by the promise of her new destiny, she heard her husband calling her. With a smiled he imperiously commanded:
-My dear Clotilde..., get up.
She rose without realizing why. Before she could reply, her new husband, with even greater vigor, ordered:
-Now..., put on my pants!
She stood in a stunned silence, completely confused. Perhaps, she thought, it’s some sort of a joke, a somewhat shocking joke, and so she chose to smile in response. Maybe it’s a traditional honeymoon ritual …but who knows? Could it be a thing among newlyweds?...
Her new husband roared: Haven't you heard me? Put on my pants! Right now! ... dear!
Confused, embarrassed, and already more likely to cry than to laugh, Clotilde obeyed as best she could. After all, the phrase is “love, honor, and obey!”
In a more solemn voice, Abréu said … "Sit there now."
The girl now dressed in her husband’s pants sat down. Abreu spoke more gently: I wanted you to wear the pants this morning, so that you could learn dear Clotilde, that for the rest of your life you will never wear them again. God willing, I will be the one wearing the pants, every hour and every day, for as long as our union lasts, and may it lasts many years, in holy peace, amen. Do you understand?
Clotildita nodded her head. Abreu said in a stern voice. Now that you know, you can take them off … NOW!
(Extract from the short story “Feminista,” by Emilia Pardo-Bazán. URL: https://www.cervantesvirtual.com/obra-visor/feminista--0/html/ffb54d56-82b1-11df-acc7-002185ce6064_2.html)
Welcome
Hello! Dear listeners of Tres Cuentos, the bilingual podcast dedicated to the literary, historical, and traditional narratives of Latin America. I'm Carolina Quiroga-Stultz, and today we welcome a woman that through her writing did much for women in the Spanish world, Emilia Pardo-Bazán.
*
The fragment presented in the introduction is part of a story called “Feminista”, written by today’s author. If you want to know how it ends you better listen until the end of the episode.
As we approached March, I kept thinking that I wanted to showcase a woman who had left a mark in history. I felt I hit the jackpot after reading about Emilia Pardo-Bazán’s life. A woman who in the late nineteenth century and early XX century stood her ground, ignoring the intellectual and literary male world criticized some of her style and topic choices.
In the case of today’s episode, I was doubly lucky. Not only did I find today’s cuento or story translated to English, but I was given permission to reproduce the translations almost immediately. I confess that I always have a bit of apprehension when asking for permissions. A lot of times, I must exercise my patience, and wait for days or weeks for an answer. This time, the permission came back 12 hours after I sent the request.
Our main story “The Woman Who Came Back to Life,” can be found in the book The Dedalus Book of Spanish Fantasy, edited & translated by Margaret Jull Costa & Annela McDermott, published by Dedalus. Curiously, this is not the first time we have presented one of Margaret Jull Costa’s translations. She also translated the story by Machado de Assis that we presented on episode 35 “The Bonze’s Secret.”
Finally, after the story I will be sharing more on what’s happening with the podcast this year. You don’t want to miss that.
A woman presumed dead, wakes up and with eagerness returns home. But her family’s reactions are quite the opposite to what she had hoped for.
Story
The Woman Who Came Back to Life
Written by Emilia Pardo Bazán
Translated by Margaret Jull Costa
Four large candlesticks were burning, oozing large drops of wax. A bat had detached itself from the vaulted ceiling and was beginning to describe ragged circles in the air. A small dark shape crossed the flagstones and somberly, cautiously climbed one-fold of the pall covering the tomb. At that precise moment, Dorotea de Guevara, lying inside the tomb, opened her eyes.
She knew perfectly well that she was not dead, but a leaden veil, a bronze padlock had prevented her from seeing and speaking. She could hear, though, and she had been aware, as if in a half-sleep, of what they did to her as they washed her and wrapped her in the shroud. She had heard her husband sobbing, felt her children’s tears on her stiff, white cheeks, and now, in the solitude of the locked church, as she gradually regained consciousness, she was overwhelmed by horror. This was no nightmare, this was real. There was the coffin, there were the candles…and there she was wrapped in the white shroud and, on her breast, the scapular of Our Lady of Mercy.
Sitting up now, the joy of pure existence overcame all other feelings. She was alive; how good it was to live, to come alive again and not to fall into the dark grave. Instead of being borne down to the crypt at dawn on the shoulders of servants, she would return to her own dear home and hear the joyful clamor of those who loved her and were now weeping inconsolably.
The delicious idea of the joy she was about to carry back to that house made her heart -weakened by the deep faint into which she had fallen – beat faster. She swung her legs over the side of the coffin and jumped down onto the floor; then, with the alacrity of thought common in moments of crisis, she drew up her plan of action. It was useless calling out or asking for help at that hour of the night, and yet she could not bear to remain until dawn in the deserted church. She thought she could see the prying faces of ghosts amidst the shadows in the nave and hear the doleful cries of souls in torment. There was another option: she could leave via the Christ chapel.
It belonged to her; it had been endowed by her family. Dorotea always kept a flame burning, in an exquisite silver lamp, before the holy image of Christ on the cross. Beneath the chapel was the crypt, the burial place of the Guevara family. To her left, she could just make out the ornate railings decorated here and there in mellow, reddish gold.
In her heart, Dorotea sent up a fervent prayer to Christ. Lord, let the keys be in the lock! She felt for them. All three were there, hanging in a bunch. The key to the chapel itself, the key to the crypt, reached by a winding staircase inside the wall, and the third key that opened a small, concealed door in the carved retable and gave onto a narrow alleyway skirting the noble, lofty façade of the great house of the Guevaras flanked by towers. That was the door through which the Guevaras entered in order to hear mass in their chapel without having to cross the nave. Dorotea unlocked the door and pushed it open…She was outside the church, she was free.
Only ten steps and she was home . . . The house rose before her, silent, grave, enigmatic. Dorotea placed a trembling hand on the doorknocker, as if she were a beggarwoman come to ask for succor in her hour of need. ‘This is my house, isn’t it’? she thought, as she knocked again.
At the third knock, she heard noises inside the mute, solemn house wrapped in its thoughts as if in mourning weeds. And then she heard Pedralvar, the servant, grumbling:
‘Who’s there? Who’s knocking at this hour of the morning? A curse on you whoever you are!’
‘Open the door, Pedralvar, please. It’s your mistress, Doña Dorotea de Guevara! Quick, open the door!’
‘Go away you drunkard! If I do come out there, I’ll skewer you, I swear I will!’
‘It’s me Doña Dorotea. Open the door. Don’t you recognize my voice?’
Again, there came a curse, this time hoarse with fear. Instead of opening the door, Pedralvar went back up the stairs. The woman knocked twice more. Life seemed to be returning to the austere house. The servant’s terror ran through it like a shiver down a spine. She knocked again in the hallway she hears footsteps, whispers, people scurrying about.
At last, the two leaves of the heavy, studded door creaked open and the rosy mouth of the maid Luciguela emitted a shrill scream. She dropped the silver candlestick she was carrying. She had come face to face with her mistress, her dead mistress, dragging her shroud behind her looking her straight in the eye.
Sometime later, Dorotea, clothed now in a dress of Genoese velvet with slashed sleeves, her hair threaded with pearls, was sitting ensconced amongst cushions in an armchair by the window and she remembered that even her husband, Enrique de Guevara, had screamed when he saw her; he had screamed and stepped back. It was not a cry of joy but of horror, yes, horror, there could be no doubt about it. And had not her children, Doña Clara, aged eleven, and Don Felix, aged nine, wept out of pure fright when they saw their mother returned from the tomb? They wept more grievously, more bitterly than they had when they had borne her there.
*
And she had imagined that she would be greeted with exclamations of great happiness! It is true that a few days after her return, they held a solemn mass of thanksgiving; it is true that they gave a lavish party for relatives and friends; it is true in short, that the Guevaras did all they could to show their contentment at the singular and unexpected event that had restored to them wife and mother. As she leaned on the windowsill, though, resting her cheek on one hand, doña Dorotea was thinking about other things.
Since her return to the house, however hard they tried to disguise the fact, everyone fled from her. It was as if the chill air of the grave, the icy breath of the crypt still clung to her body. While she was eating, she would catch the servants and her children casting oblique glances at her pale hands, and she noticed that the children shuddered when she raised her wineglass to her parched lips. Did they think it unnatural for people from the other world to eat a drink?
For Doña Dorotea came from that mysterious country whose existence children suspect but of which they as yet know nothing. Whenever those pale, maternal hands reached out to tousle Don Félix’s blond curls, he would pull away, his face as white as her hands, like someone avoiding a touch that curdles the blood. And if, at the fearful midnight hour, Dorotea happened to meet Doña Clara in the dining room next to the courtyard where the tall figures in the tapestries seem to stir into life, the terrified child would flee as if she had seen a ghastly apparition.
For his part, her husband, though he treated her with commendable respect and reverence, had not once put his strong arm around her waist. The woman who had come back from the dead rouged her cheeks, wove ribbons and pearls into her hair and doused her body in perfumes from the Orient, but all in vain. The waxen pallor of her skin shone through the rouge; her face still bore the marks of the funerary wimple they had placed upon her, and no perfumes could disguise the dank smell of the mausoleum.
One day, Dorotea gave her husband a wifely caress; she wanted to know if he would reject her. Don Enrique passively allowed himself to be embraced, but his eyes were dark and dilated with the horror which, despite himself, peeped out of those windows of the soul. In those eyes, once gallant, bold and full of desire, Dorotea read the words buzzing in his brain on which madness was already beginning to encroach.
‘People do not return from the place you have returned from . . .’
*
She took every precaution. Her plan must be carried out in such a way that no one would ever know anything; it would remain forever a secret. She managed to get hold of the bunch of keys to the chapel and asked a young blacksmith, who was leaving for Flanders the next day with the infantry, to make her another set.
One evening, with the keys to her tomb in her possession, Dorotea wrapped a cloak about her and left the house without being seen. She entered the church by the little door, hid in the Christ chapel and, when the sacristan had left the church locking the door behind him, Dorotea descended slowly into the crypt, lighting her way with a candle she had lit from the chapel lamp.
She opened the rusty door, closed it from the inside and lay down, first snuffing out the candle with her foot…
Commentary
Very well, let’s return to the land of those who are still kicking. Now, let’s imagine that someone you knew who has passed away comes back from the grave. How would you react? Would you hug them and tell them how much you missed them and resume your life as if nothing had happened? Or would you be terrified and end up wondering what on earth has happened to the natural order of the universe?
The funny thing is that someone already explored these questions in a tv show. If you haven’t watched it yet, I recommend the Australian series Glitch on Netflix. To not give away the plot, all I can say is that some of the reactions the living had towards the dead were quite surprising.
Emilia Pardo Bazán’s story “The woman who came back to life” reminds me of a couple of things. The first is those with post-traumatic stress disorders due to war or other significant trauma. Many times their recovery is as dramatic as if they had come back from the dead because they can barely reconnect with their loved ones. At times, it is hard for their families and friends to grasp the horrors the returnee has gone through. And other times, the patient just feels entirely out of place in their old world – the world of the living.
The second thing that the story evokes in my mind on a deeper level is Apotheosis. Allow me to explain. In the 17 stages of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s journey, the Apotheosis is the stage where someone dies either a physical or spiritual death. Then he or she moves beyond this pair of opposites to a state of divine knowledge.
In most cases, when the hero or “shero” returns from literal or metaphorical death, he or she is seen as a wise one, a new leader of the people, or an outcast. The latter really depends on how the community is willing to embrace the new perspective that the returnee brings.
In the story, the main character interprets in her husband’s reaction a thought, ‘People do not return from the place you have returned from . . .’ So instead of trying to start anew somewhere else, she just abandons herself to her old state, death. This reminds me of when someone who has been following the cultural norms by the book, until one day awakes and dares to question that which has been normalized for so long. Most of the time, this behavior is frowned upon. In reaction, the person ends up with the option of escaping feelings and doubts or repressing them. This last choice leads typically to depression or is the seed for a future monster.
However, there may be another potential explanation. In the biography of today’s author, we found that Emilia’s husband asked her to give up writing after a major literary scandal. Her husband thought that no one comes back from being socially ostracized, especially not a woman. Sadly, even today that is still the case. In many cultures, men’s excesses are tolerated and are treated like minor and insignificant transgressions. The saying “boys will be boys” is still pervasive. Surely it is time to retire that phrase. It does more harm than good.
*
Moving on, I wanted to give a shout-out to today’s translator, Margaret Jull Costa.
Margaret Jull Costa has translated many novels and short stories by Portuguese, Spanish and Latin American writers. Among the authors Jull Costa has translated are José Saramago, Eca de Queiroz, Fernando Pessoa, Paulo Coelho, Machado de Assis, Bernardo Atxaga, Carmen Martín Gaite, Javier Marías and José Régio.
She was a joint winner of the Portuguese Translation Prize in 1992 for her translation of The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa. With Javier Marías, she won the 1997 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award for A Heart So White. In recent years, Margaret Jull Costa won several awards for translating the works of one of my favorite writers José Saramago.
In an interview with the New York Times, when asked What kind of reader were you as a child? Which childhood books and authors stick with you most? Margaret said: I read whatever I could find in the children’s public library: folk tales, “The Moomins,” “Black Beauty,” “Doctor Dolittle” and anything else featuring animals.
*
Well, it is time for some news. If you have been with us for a while, you might remember that last year I mentioned that the program would go through several changes.
Initially, my idea was to inaugurate the new face of the program by February of this year. Still, when confronted with my future reality, I had to change gears. Let me explain. My husband is soon retiring from the army. This will cause a major change in our lives. Thanks to him, I have been fortunate to pursue my dreams for the past eight years. Unlike Bazán’s husband I was never asked to give up on love for storytelling. On the contrary my dearest is my biggest cheerleader. Yet, I believe it is time to even the scale a bit. I would love for him to have the time he needs to transition without any pressure.
Then, while we try to figure out our next adventure, I thought it would be wise to slow down the program changes and not stress myself and my team. Therefore the program will move a bit slower. We will concentrate our efforts on three fronts. Reaching out to new audiences, updating some of the art and layout of the transcripts, and producing a season on poetry.
Personally, I am very excited about the third. We will present female poets from across the Latino descendant world. Also, our two translators, Melanie Marqués Adams and Alexa Jeffress, will debut as co-producers. The season will come out in September, but there is a chance that we have another special program in between.
As we make progress on all fronts, I will keep you posted on developments and opportunities for you to help us out.
Well, my dear listeners, I cannot thank you enough for the kind words you leave us in our Instagram account or the emails you write us.
It is time to talk about today’s author.
*
Emilia’s life
Emilia Pardo-Bazán y de la Rúa-Figueroa was a poet, novelist, playwriter, literary critic, translator, editor, journalist, essayist, professor, and feminist. Over her lifetime, she published more than 1500 journalistic articles, 40 novels, more than 600 short stories, and more than a dozen essays. She was the first female Spanish writer to live from her literary and intellectual work.
She was born on September 16, in 1851 in the Atlantic seaport of La Coruña, Spain. Emilia was the only child of Don José Pardo-Bazán y Mosquera and Doña Amalia de la Rúa Figueroa y Somoza. Because of her parents’ aristocratic wealth, Emilia received a privileged education.
From a young age, Emilia was an avid reader. Recognizing his daughter’s interests, Emilia’s father ended a long family tradition that limited women to music and home economics. Instead, Don José Pardo began training her in the humanities, arts, and languages. Still, Emilia could not continue her higher education because the teaching of science and philosophy were prohibited for women. Still, she learned these subjects through books and occasional lectures her father and close intellectual friends gave her.
By the time she was nine years old, Emilia had composed her first verses. At 13, she wrote her first novel, Dangerous Hobbies. It was serialized in 1886 in the newspaper El Progreso de Pontevedra. Curiously it took almost a whole century after her death for her first novel to be published as a book. In Dangerous Hobbies, Emilia defends the moral role of literature and the right of women to educate themselves. The young writer warned against dangerous hobbies such as biased readings promoted by a society with narrow moral views, especially when reading books was starting to create a new type of woman.
This reminds me of the whole movement spreading across the US on banning books in schools that address sensitive issues such as racism, cultural diversity, gender diversity, and the teaching of US history regarding those topics.
When Emilia was sixteen, her life changed abruptly. In her words, “In 1868, three important events followed one after the other. I dressed in a long gown, got married, and the September revolution broke out.” The latter resulted in the deposition of Queen Isabella II.
Emilia’s husband was José Quiroga Pérez Deza, with whom she had three children, Jaime (1876), Blanca (1879), and Carmen (1881). The marriage became troubled after the events of 1884. More on that in a moment.
*
By the late 1870s, Emilia discovered the Krausism movement, a philosophical system conceived by the German Friedrich Krause in the early nineteenth century. Krausism advocated for doctrinal tolerance and academic freedom from dogma. Krausism’s influence reached Spain and inspired the Institution of Free Teaching project. This project came in response to the Royal Decree that, in 1875 issued by the education ministry, severely limited academic freedom in Spain.
One of Pardo-Bazán’s famous quotes on the importance of education states, “If you ask me how Spain can continue to exist, and how its vitality can be achieved, I will say that first, it needs education, second education, and third education! And after that, Spain can be itself according to its nature, diversity, and freedom, by recognizing, respecting, and cultivating the autonomy of every region.”
By 1884, Emilia had published her first book of poems (1881) and three other novels, including La Tribuna (The tribune - 1883). The latter tells the story of a working woman in a factory where a strike occurs, and the protagonist fight for workers’ demands.
In 1884, she published La cuestión palpitante (The critical issue), a group of articles about the literary movement of naturalism and the ideology of Émile Zola. The book had a significant social impact and caused the critics’ outrage, to which Emilia responded by defending herself. Her husband, afraid of the social scandal, asked her to stop writing, leading the couple to pursue an amicable separation.
La cuestión palpitante (The critical issue) made Emilia one of the major promoters of naturalism in Spain. Naturalism was a literary movement born in France that describes the psychological and social reality using the same methods employed by natural science.
Curiously, although the French naturalist writer Émile Zola appreciated the book, in his words, we can still grasp a sense of the prejudice of the time. He said: “The book was very well written; it has intense controversy: it doesn’t look like a book written by a woman. Those words could not have been written in the ladies’ room.” Soon after, Emilia broke her professional relationship with Zola.
Two years after the book’s scandal, Emilia published Los Pazos the Ulloa (The house of Ulloa), a masterpiece of the naturalist method. The author exposes the decadence of the Galician aristocracy and the rural world.
*
After 1890, Emilia Pardo-Bazán left behind naturalism and began exploring idealism and symbolism's literary movements. By the end of the nineteenth century, Emilia's work was starting to show a clear feminist perspective – pushing for women's social and intellectual emancipation. Emilia continued to meet with other intellectuals and to learn about other artistic movements.
Pardo-Bazán considered herself a "radical feminist" in Spain when women were limited to their roles as mothers and wives. The lack of education for women deepened this limitation. Pardo Bazán used her novels and short stories to incite a feminist conscience in the Spanish public.
She believed that "all the rights that men possess, women should possess as well." After publishing essays like "La mujer española," (The Spanish woman), Emilia was invited to participate in different conferences. But being in the spotlight brought the enmity of many intellectuals and aristocrats. One of Emilia's famous phrases was, "If my business card had the name Emilio, instead of Emilia, my life would have been very different."
Between 1892 and 1914, Pardo-Bazán sponsored and directed an editorial project called "The woman's library." The project encompassed a series of writings related to women's issues or authored by women. Among the authors and works published were George Elliot, María Zayas, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and "The female slavery" by John Stuart Mill.
In 1906, Emilia Pardo-Bazán became the first woman to preside over the Literature Section at Ateneo de Madrid's cultural institution and the first woman to teach Neo Latin Literature at the Universidad Central de Madrid. Unfortunately, she suffered a boycott of students and professors alike. Her lecture had low attendance, perhaps because it was open only for those with doctoral degrees. However, hoping that her lecture would not be canceled, women from the high society, admirers, and even a university's janitor showed up in support. When the janitor was asked why he had attended her classroom he said that he was convinced that Doña Emilia's talent should not go to waste.
On May 12, 1921, Emilia Pardo-Bazán, the woman who was three times denied entry to La Real Academia de la Lengua died from complications of diabetes.
Emilia is still remembered for her strong character and phrases such as "I am not a redeemer, preacher or liberator. But whenever I can, within my capabilities, and without compromising a good cause with nonsense, I will defend the rights of women relegated to the category of pariahs and Sudras (lower Indian cast). I will do it, I will do it, I will do it."
Despite the numerous difficulties Emilia Pardo-Bazán faced in her intellectual and literary career, she did not waver. She knew she was paving the road for women.
Very well friends, let’s remember that behind us there is a powerful force that has done its part on contributing to educate more just societies.
It is time to wrap today’s episode, and I am going to reveal the end of the story we heard in the introduction of the program, Feminista.
*
Feminista
Emilia Pardo Bazán
Read by Don Hymel
How did Clotildita respond? She told no one. She kept an absolute, impenetrable silence, wrapping herself in the first of what would become many defeats that would gradually sour the humble feminine ideal, an honest, youthful hope of a union built on love and not servitude. Instead she would live submissively and quietly. […]
But Abréu, despite maintaining his vows to be faithful to her, had an illness yet to be discovered. The remains and relics of his reckless youth caught up with him eventually in the form of chronic ailments. The first time he consulted with me in Aguasacras, I knew that there would be no cure for him. It would only be possible for him to alleviate what could not be healed – except by bathing in the fountain of eternal youth, whose location is known to no-one.
His wife cared for him with true dedication. She went out of her way for him, and instead of having fun – since she was still young after all – she thought only of the comfort and medicine that the patient needed. But every morning, when the husband would leave the bed, her sweet fluted little voice gave him a strict order:
"Put on my petticoats, dear Nicholas! Hurry up, put on my petticoats!
Predictably Abreu’s face contorted. He would murmur an unintelligible grumble..., but the order was constantly repeated in the lilt of a chirping bird. The weakened man lowered his head, awkwardly tying to his waist the ribbons of the skirts trimmed with lace. And then the tender wife added, with no less musical and fine accent:
-So that you know that, as long as I am your little nurse, you will be wearing the petticoats all your life, do you understand?
(Extract from the short story “Feminista,” by Emilia Pardo-Bazán. URL: https://www.cervantesvirtual.com/obra-visor/feminista--0/html/ffb54d56-82b1-11df-acc7-002185ce6064_2.html)
Farewell
And with this short story that I am sure some may identify with, we end today’s program. Until the next cuento, or story, adios, adios.
*
Tres Cuentos Podcast is produced with support from PRX and the Google Podcasts creator program.
Tres Cuentos is an exercise of creative writing, researching, and retelling.
Special thanks to ….
Remember that you can listen to Tres Cuentos in any podcast app, Google Podcast, iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, iVoox, or wherever you find us listed. Also, check our website www.trescuentos.com
Last if you enjoyed program, consider subscribing to our newsletter through our website and sharing the episodes with your friends.
The music and sound effects were downloaded from the YouTube audio library and Freesound.org
The list of credits per song can be found in the transcript.
Thanks for listening, adios, adios.
Bibliography
Aficiones peligrosas, by Emilia Pardo Bazán, Araceli Herrero Figueroa https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52410194-aficiones-peligrosas
Biografía de Emilia Pardo Bazán. Por Ana M.ª Freire López (Universidad Nacional de Educación a Distancia) https://www.cervantesvirtual.com/portales/pardo_bazan/autora_biografia/
Perfiles: Emilia Pardo-Bazán. Canal Historia. https://canalhistoria.es/perfiles/emilia-pardo-bazan/
“Torn lace.” https://cervantesobservatorio.fas.harvard.edu/sites/default/files/018_rincon_traductores_pardobazan-gonzalezarias.pdf
“Feminista,” by Emilia Pardo-Bazán. URL: https://www.cervantesvirtual.com/obra-visor/feminista--0/html/ffb54d56-82b1-11df-acc7-002185ce6064_2.html
El encaje roto. https://biblioteca.org.ar/libros/8294.pdf
Las ‘aficiones peligrosas’ de Pardo Bazán, la condesa feminista. La exposición 'Emilia Pardo Bazán, el reto de la modernidad', rinde homenaje a la escritora gallega que vivió fiel a sus convicciones. Yolanda Cardo, 01.08.2021. https://cronicaglobal.elespanol.com/creacion/aficiones-peligrosas-pardo-bazan-condesa-feminista_515403_102.html
7 hechos esenciales sobre Emilia Pardo Bazán. Vicens Vives VICENS VIVES · 16 DE SEPTIEMBRE DE 2021. https://blog.vicensvives.com/7-hechos-esenciales-sobre-emilia-pardo-bazan/
La resucitada por Emilia Pardo-Bazán. https://ciudadseva.com/texto/la-resucitada/
Music
Moonlight Sonata (by Beethoven) – Beethoven
Pablo - The Mini Vandals
People Watching - Sir Cubworth
Unknown Longing - Asher Fulero
Toreador - Ron Meixsell
Anguish by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1400047
Artist: http://incompetech.com/
Gypsy Shoegazer by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1200073
Artist: http://incompetech.com/
Dance of Deception by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100271
Artist: http://incompetech.com/
Serious Piano by Audionautix is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Artist: http://audionautix.com/
572459__nhill2003__jump-land
344153__brokenphono__thump-002
609727__theplax__door-lock-1
590950__rudmer-rotteveel__creaky-door-closing-slowly
207554__bone666138__haunting-knock-with-knocker-squeak
131437__skydran__key-noises
bbc_doors---ga_07037543
351336__visions68__girl-scream-frank-3
207977__soundslikewillem__long-door-creak
546823__gammelsmurfen778__bat-wings