Eça de Queirós was a Portuguese writer of the late 19th century. He is recognised as the greatest Portuguese writer in the realist style. He was, undoubtedly, one of the greatest writers in the history of Portuguese literature.
Zola said of him that he was greater than Flaubert. Jonathan Keates, in "The London Observer," compared him favourably to Dickens, Balzac, and Tolstoy.
He was a writer, a journalist, and a diplomat. In 1871, Eça and Ramalho Ortigão (another Portuguese writer) created the monthly issue “As Farpas” (The Barbs), where they gave free rein to sharp and biting criticism of Portuguese society in general and Lisbon society in particular.
In 1872, Eça de Queirós entered the diplomatic service when appointed consul in Havana. Then he was transferred to Newcastle-on-Tyne, England and in 1888, he was appointed consul in Paris, where he lived until his death on August 16, 1900. The time he spent in Paris was the background for this novel and the trigger to a transition in his career, when the author changes his focus from satirised criticism and irony stings to church and society values, to move to a more personal constructive philosophy, launching himself in the speculation of moralizing principles, trying to prove that the truly important values of existence are intrinsic to "Simplicity".
It's generally recognised in his work that there are three phases. The main one, when he wrote most of his books, was the second, marked by the "Realism" of his prose and the use of literary themes and characters to criticise the Portuguese society of the time.
The book "A Cidade e as Serras" ("The City and the Mountains", published outside Portugal as "202, Champs-Élysées") belongs to the third period. However, it also contains harsh criticisms of society and the vanity of Man; It no longer exclusively points to Portuguese society but to the universal principles of humanity.
"A Cidade e as Serras" started as a development of the short story "Civilisation", written in 1892, then he started the book in 1893, but Eça never finished it. The book was published posthumously in 1901.
We don't know for certain who gave the last "touches" (it was supposed to be his friend and fellow writer Ramalho Ortigão) for publication, but at the time of Eça's death, the book wasn't finished. In the first edition, in 1901, in the introduction, we can read:
WARNING
From page 241 to the end, the proofs of this book were not reviewed by the author, snatched by death before he had given this part of his writing that last coat, in which he habitually put the most persevering and most admirably lucid diligence.
One of his friends and fellow writer, who was entrusted with the delicate work of touching the posthumous manuscript of Eça de Queirós, hopes that the revision he has undertaken will not grossly tarnish the immortal halo with which this book will shine in Portuguese literature, in which the spirit of the great writer seems to breathe out of life in a tender sigh of sweetness, peace, and out of pure love for his homeland.
The book presents a romantic yet somewhat naive perspective on the contrasts Eça perceived between "Civilisation" and "Nature"; It explores the confrontation between urban life and the fields and pastures of the rural landscape. The townsman versus the peasant.
The central character, Jacinto, a very rich city dweler, suffers a crisis of conscience regarding his approach to life, and then we follow the philosophical revolutions of his conscience, which leads to a challenge of his own beliefs, radically changing his views and going from the most enthusiastic defender of the "unstoppable march of progress" (that he even resumes into a philosophical maxim in a mathematical formula: a lot of Science X a lot of Power = a lot of Happiness.) until becoming its harshest critic, finishing as the greatest champion of peasant life.
I believe that the point Eça was making is that, despite Progress, with all the new exciting technologies and shining gadgets invading our lives, and cities growing and the "civilised" elite prospering, little by little, the excitement of constantly new odds and ends fades, revealing the emptiness of those values as simple illusions. Slowly the creeping unconscious awareness reveals the tedium of stagnation in a life where everything seems nonsensical and useless and that is when it starts the process of acknowledging of all those absurds of "civilized city life" with the futile alienation of social appearances; the need to "see" and "be seen", "to have and let the others know that you have It", where everyone, permanently and pointlessly, participate in the procession of an insatiable search for novelties; of absurd acts enveloped in a meaningless vacuum of the amoral state of affairs in the pursuit of excitement as if it were happiness, and health beyond any moral consideration as an imperative. Then, as if awakening from a comatose slumber, he starts to vigorously defend the return to a more humble and simpler life.
Eça does not deny the comforts and advantages of technologies or the positive aspects of a cosmopolitan society (like Walden from H. D. Thoreau), but criticises its excesses, absurdities, and all those who are so bored with their lives that they are always searching for the "Next Exciting New Thing" to keep going.
This novel, while being more introspective and personal from a philosophical standpoint within Eça's body of work, still contains sharp critiques of the church and the societal issues surrounding accumulation and the hoarding of wealth, which often transcend moral values:
-What an august creation, that of the City! Only for its sake, Zé Fernandes, can a man superbly assert his soul! ...
-Oh, Jacinto, what about religion? For does not religion attest to the soul?
He shrugged.
-The religion! Religion is the sumptuous development of a rudimentary instinct common to all brutes, terror. A dog licking the hand of its owner, from whom the bone or the whip comes, is already crudely a devotee, the conscious devotee, prostrate in prayers before the God who distributes heaven or hell!... But the telephone! the phonograph!...
-For the rest, it is a business of jewellery, of art, of progress, which must be done, in a superior world, among friends…
… Jacinto wrinkled his nose, annoyed:
-But, at least, are the studies done? Have you ever proved that there are emeralds?
Such ingenuity exasperated Ephraim:
-Emeralds! Of course, there are emeralds!... There are always emeralds as long as there are shareholders!
The first part of the book concludes with the epitome of stupid nonsense exhibition of futility and the most desperate display of boredom, enthusiastically announced in the privacy of friendship.
The 202, that winter, glowed with magnificence. It was then that he began in Paris, repeating Elagabalus (Marcus Aurelius Antoninus), the Feasts of Colour told in the augustan history: and he offered his friends this sublime pink dinner, in which everything was rosy, the walls, the furniture, the lights, the crockery, crystal, ice cream, champagne, and even (by an invention of "haute cuisine") fish, meat, and vegetables, which the squires served, powdered with pink powder, in pink liveries, while fresh rose petals fell from the ceiling, from a rosy silk candlestick... The City, dazzled, cried out--"Bravo, Jacinto!" And, at the end of the blazing party, he planted his hands in front of me on his sides and shouted triumphantly:
-«Huh? What a pain!...»
And kept shouting praises to the modern city, while the whole state of mind of Jacinto, at this point, is framed by Eça in a short sentence of Grilo, his African valet:
One night in my room, taking off my boots, I consulted Grilo:
- Jacinto is so withered, so hunchbacked... What is it, Grilo?
The venerable black declared with immense certainty:
- His Excellency suffers from plenty.
In the second part of the book, Jacinto must return to his homeland to take care of some problems in his estates in the deep countryside of Portugal. A rural area populated by poor, simple people without any of the sophistication of city folk, living with few resources in close contact with Nature. The description of the voyage, by train, from Paris to Tormes is priceless.
Eça introduces us to the Douro hills with their fertile slopes. The description of the landscape is bright and precise. Here, I encountered a certain naivety, as the writer's ideas about country life and peasants sharply contrast with the convictions of the man Eça, facing reality.
In a letter to his wife written following a visit to his properties, Eça de Queiroz acknowledges the beauty of the mountains, but is not kind regarding the human landscape: ...one of the drawbacks of these places is the horrendous filth of the people! Certainly, there is misery, and that is one of the downsides of all this beauty. Certainly, the village houses or the farmhands' houses are, through the fault of the owners, veritable dens where even livestock would be ill. But there is also, in the people, a love of filth...
But in the book, Jacinto, Eça's alter-ego, in the house of his ancestors, finds himself planning the improvements his wealth can bring to the land and the people, and starts dreaming about "crystal cheese factories" and brand new houses for all the peasants. Despite the harsh reality contradicting his fondest reveries, he is convinced that he has found his place in the Universe and the true values of life. Jacinto's trip to the hills is the moral synthesis of the novel.
The ultimate point Eça was trying to make was that the full power of civilisation displayed in the cities offers so many possibilities and options that the human being cannot cope and be happy because such an offer paralyses or kills with an overdose. The countryside hills, with their beauty and simplicity of nature, are an invitation to be part of a valuable and purposeful life. They convey the enthusiasm and poetry of an excessively composed and literary emotion. Much more than the dark red blood of the landscape and the people, there are the pastel colours of a Monet, a Corot or a Renoir. That village of Santa Ireneia, Tormes, between the Tua and the Tinhela rivers, is, in its seduction and exaltation, a Portugal far more romantic than real.
Besides, I think that Eça dismissed the "mule" frame of mind of the vast majority, regarding the use of the resources and conveniences that progress provides, whether technological, scientific, economic, or social. In almost every aspect of human life, people are seldom willing to abdicate any advantage acquired. And that applies at every and any period of human civilisation. This is especially true today, in the digital world, when on many social networks, it's common to find "Luddite" outbursts from people who reject the very social network they are using, and urge others to go "breathe some fresh air." As a rule, they don't stay away from their personal space for more than two days…
Towards the end of his life, in a letter to a relative, Eça states: May God grant us patience to endure civilisation. Alongside the growing disbelief in science and technology at the turn of the century, Eça's vision of life and the world, as he approached 60, was also changing.
Anyway, with all its faults, weaknesses, and naiveties, I enjoyed re-reading "The City and the Mountains"; I delighted in Jacinto's earthy spirit. It's a pleasant reading, and if we think for a while, especially if living in a big city, I believe that Eça was being a little prophetic, foreseeing some of the neurologic pathologies of our ultra-modern hyper-civilised societies when pursuing that elusive state of mind called happiness.