From the Outside Looking In: Narrative Frames and Narrative Spaces in the Short Stories of Emilia Pardo Bazán (review)

In a nicely bound volume of the sort for which Juan de la Cuesta is well-known, Susan Walter undertakes the study of thirteen of Emilia Pardo Bazán’s short stories published between 1892 and 1909. All of these tales have in common two narrative levels—an introduction presented by one framing narrator and a central narration as told by a second, internal, narrator—thus allowing Walter to “untangle the distinct voices of narrative authority in the texts in order to uncover the ideological positioning of the tale” (22). Also, the author views such stories as “an ideal place to look for an engagement with the theme[s] of gender ideology” and gender dynamics so prevalent in Pardo Bazan’s work (20).

The first chapter of Walter’s study seeks to familiarize her readers with narratological frame theory and feminist narratological approaches. She takes a structuralist approach to narratology and cites such scholars as John Barth, Gérard Genette, Susan Lanser, Nilli Diengott, Robyn Warhol, and Kathy Mezei. In this introductory chapter, the author discusses structural patterns of narrative embedding, the relationships between narrative levels, textual point of view, the role of the narratee, and the use of direct address. The second chapter examines four tales—“Champagne,” “Paria,” “El encaje roto,” and “El revólver”—all narrated by female protagonists who are reluctant to tell their stories. The third chapter, from which the title of the book derives, studies “Afra,” “Madre,” “Los ramilletes,” “Sor Aparición,” and “Los buenos tiempos”—tales about women but narrated by men. In chapter 4, Walter examines male narrators who are, for the most part, protagonists in their own tales in “Delincuente honrado,” “Remordimiento,” “Banquete de boda,” and “Feminista.” As is evident in Walter’s selection from Pardo Bazan’s vast production, some of these stories—“Champagne,” “Sor Aparición,” “El encaje roto,” “El revólver,” and “Feminista” come to mind—have been extensively studied in other venues as well; others, such as “Los buenos tiempos,” “Delincuente honrado,” and “Remordimiento,” have not enjoyed the same level of scrutiny.

Walter’s book is well-documented and makes an original contribution to an understudied area of Pardo Bazán scholarship, especially with respect to the stories included here that have not been previously studied. In addition to her reliance on the distinguished narratological scholars mentioned above, the author consults recognized Pardo Bazán specialists, such as Joyce Tolliver, Maryellen Bieder, and Susan McKenna, in this well-researched study. Despite areas of inevitable overlap—all deal with issues of gender and authority in Doña Emilia’s short fiction, for example—she makes fine use of these critics, often couching their findings in terms of narratological framing, thus providing one more perspective from which to approach Pardo Bazán’s complex work.

That is not to say, however, that this investigation is free of flaws. Foremost among them, in my estimation, is a marked and unfortunate delay or omission on the part of the author in defining technical terminology. This tendency is evident in her use of the terms “homodiegetic” and “heterodiegetic,” for example. These terms, crucial as they are to any discussion of structural narratology, are used a handful of times, on pages 23 and 42, before the author defines them, telling her readers, on pages 43–44, that they “will be employed regularly in this study.” In addition, even a brief reminder of the definition of “free indirect discourse” would be helpful; the term is used three times, on pages 128, 152, and 153, with absolutely no reference to its meaning.

A further example of imprecision on the part of the author also compels comment; this involves unfortunate repetitions in close proximity to one another. For example, the last sentence of the second paragraph on page 17 repeats almost verbatim the first sentence of that same...