This 2017 translation of Miguel de Unamuno’s “Niebla” or “Fog” was originally published in 1914 in Spanish. Top notch translation here. The words and phrasing feel modern, not like I imagine English speakers spoke in the early 20th century, but that doesn’t detract from this piece. Unamuno is considered a Modernist writer and this text is filled with questions psychological and existential on the nature of being, reality, truth and how those are perceived. We see each other and even ourselves through a fog; perception is unclear. The framework for this is a rather simple love story (of course, the definition of love is questioned) with attendant drama and melodrama. The distinctly unmodern aspect of the story are some cringeworthy interactions between the male protagonist and women, which reek of outdated expectations of male/female behavior.

I would recommend to most readers to not let that dissuade you from reading “Fog”. There’s a lot of grist for the 21st century thinker. To illustrate, here are some quotes I found relevant to contemporary topics.

On life during an epidemic
“Do you know what that boor Martín Rubio said to poor Don Emeterio a few days after he lost his wife?”

“I don’t think I heard.”

“Well, listen. It was during the epidemic, you know? Everybody was terrified. You wouldn’t let me out of the house for days, and I had to drink boiled water. Everyone was avoiding everyone else, and if you saw someone dressed in black, it was as if they had the plague. So, five or six days after losing his wife, poor Don Emeterio had to leave his house. He was dressed in mourning, of course, and he ran into that lout, Martín.

When Martín saw that Don Emeterio was dressed in black, he stood a safe distance away, as if he was afraid he’d be infected and said, ‘What’s the matter? Has something happened at home?’ “‘Yes,’ poor Don Emeterio said, ‘I just lost my poor wife.’ “

On texting and written syntax
“Italics turn writers into mimes, replacing intensity and tone with gestures.”

On Climate Change Denial
“If some have mocked God, why shouldn’t we ridicule Reason, Science, and even Truth?”

On Gender Identity
“That’s why man invented clothes—to cover his sexual organs. But then, since both sexes wore the same clothes, they couldn’t tell each other apart. They couldn’t always tell what sex they were”…”At first, men and women wore the same garments, but since they couldn’t tell each other apart, they had to invent different clothing to reveal their gender.”

On state-sponsored socialism
“But as soon as Don Eloíno recovered from the shock, his friend made it clear that if he married the landlady, she would receive a widow’s pension of thirteen duros a month, which otherwise would be unclaimed and go to the state. So you see . . .”

“Yes, Victor, I know more than one person who’s gotten married to prevent the state from keeping his pension. That’s civic-mindedness for you.”

Personally interesting to me were the explorations of inner voice, what the protagonist called monologues. Our internal thoughts, the voice in our head. Unamumo even touches on what we might label mindfulness.

“Was there anything before books, before stories, before words, before thoughts?”

“I can’t live without debate and contradictions. And when there’s no one to debate and contradict me, I invent someone inside me to do it. My monologues are all dialogues.”

“As soon as we talk, we lie, and as soon as we talk to ourselves . . . I mean, as soon as we think, knowing that we’re thinking, we lie to ourselves. The only real truth is physiological. Words, these social constructs, were made for lying. In fact, I’ve heard one philosopher say that truth, like language, is also a social construct. Truth is what everybody believes, and in believing the same thing, we understand one another. Any social construct is a lie.”

“When a man lying motionless and asleep in his bed dreams something, what exists more, he as a consciousness that dreams or his dream?”

“…ridicule yourself, devour yourself. He who devours enjoys, but he worries so much about his pleasure coming to an end that he becomes a pessimist. He who is devoured suffers, but he focuses so much on the end of his torment that he becomes an optimist. Devour yourself, and since the pleasure of devouring yourself will become confused with and neutralized by the pain of being devoured, you’ll reach the state of perfect equanimity—ataraxy.”

(on receiving shocking news)
“He couldn’t think of anything to say. There was no monologue.”

(there is humor too)
“Don’t study medicine. It’s best not to know what’s inside you.”

And finally Orfeo, the dog, appropriately has the last word
“I taught him a lot with my silences, licking his hand while he talked and talked and talked.”

Of Interest Even to the Non-Professional, or Non-Academic

"Fog", published in 1914, is widely acknowledged, in academic circles, to be an important early modernist novel, (if not indeed the earliest and the most important such novel). If you have a scholarly interest in modernism, the novel, literary theory, or Spanish culture and literary history, the book, and the author, will no doubt be known to you.

If you are not generally armored with such heady academic interests and distinction, the question becomes whether the book is of interest to a general reader. As a general reader myself, lacking entirely in professional credentials, I feel qualified to offer this humble opinion -- the book has its moments, and is much more lively, tender, and interesting than you might expect. Further, if you are willing to check the internet and read a little about Unamuno and to read a few reviews of this book, your appreciation of the book, enjoyment of the reading experience, and admiration of Unamuno, will be multiplied a hundredfold.

The book opens with an amusing foreword by a fictional personage. This forward is then rebutted by the author. The story then proceeds and we follow the life, and ultimately love life, of the foolish and delusional Don Augusto Perez. While Augusto is so shallow and simple that we begin to lose interest in him, he quickly is placed within many scenes and set up against many characters who have great presence, humor, and style. There is both gentle and biting humor, and I assume that some of the bits and lines would have been even more rewarding had I been more familiar with Spanish culture and politics of 1914. In any event, though, the book switches into an even higher gear when its modernist jokes and sensibility are brought into focus by the arrival of the author. Unamuno argues with his fictional creation Augusto, and the two engage in repeated back and forth discussions and arguments about fiction, the novel, reality, the responsibility of the author, Augusto's identity, and so on. This continues right up to the final pages of the novel, at which point the question of who is in control still seems an open point.

Of course, this could be heavy and tedious stuff. But, in this book it is not. The book subtly and explicitly draws comparison to Cervante's Don Quixote, and in one particular at least the comparison is especially apt - there is great humor, playfulness, serious intent, patience, compassion, and earnestness mixed into both books. This, above all, is what I would suggest makes the book of interest to a general, ambitious, and adventurous reader. A nice, unusual find.

(Please note that I received a free advance ecopy of this book without a review requirement, or any influence regarding review content should I choose to post a review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)

Written in 1907 and first published in 1914, Miguel de Unamuno’s short novel, I am reliably informed, is a precursor of all the modernism and metafiction with which we have become all too familiar. Playfulness in novels is nothing new or exciting but it was new when Unamuno was writing and reading this gives a flavour of how exciting it must have been to readers at the time to discover a break from the traditional linear narratives of the 19th century and read a novel in which the author makes an appearance and in fact discusses the plot with the character he has invented. The story itself is a simple enough tale of a young wealthy man who sees a woman passing in the street and falls in love with her. His romantic plans don’t go quite according to plan and he has to consider suicide as an option. Although as he discovers when talking to the author, this isn’t his decision to make…..for he is just a character.
This is an interesting novel from a literary history point of view but also an amusing one in its own right, even if the reader doesn’t want to engage too much in the literary and authorial devices. It’s not too tricksy, and the blurring of fiction and reality doesn’t detract from the central narrative. Well worth reading.

A beautiful translation of one of Unamuno's greatest works.

1914. Politically unsettling times at the onset of The Great War. Fragmentation in the world and a tendency to see through a glass darkly perhaps was the inspiration for "Fog" written by Miguel de Unamuno.

Augusto, a pampered, wealthy intellectual, still reeling two years after his mother's death, was bored with life. Bored, until the day he spotted a girl with beautiful eyes. He followed her home and gleaned the necessary information. She was single, orphaned, and lived with her aunt and uncle. Left almost destitute by her father after a stock market crash, she gave piano lessons to pay off the heavily mortgaged house she had inherited. Up until now, Augusto existed in a fog. He now had wild dreams about the undying love of his own creation.

Augusto, introverted and unsure of himself, confers with friend Victor. Victor tells him that Eugenia's presence has awakened Augusto's senses to women collectively. Feelings for a singular woman will help him to consider branching out and experiencing life and love. Augusto's "over the top" fascination with Eugenia is problematic since Eugenia has a fiance, Mauricio. Despite Mauricio's presence, Augusto is selfless. He pays off Eugenia's mortgage and eliminates her debts.

While Eugenia's aunt calls Augusto her favorite suitor, strong willed Eugenia is determined to marry lazy, unemployed Mauricio, a bum who detests the idea of work. She feels that Augusto is trying to "buy her".

The fog that is life envelopes Augusto. He converses with his dog Orfeo, who listens to his soliloquies and thoughts on love. Augusto wants to end his own life. He visits author Unamuno, his creator. Unamuno informs him that he is just a character in a novel and only an author can make life or death decisions for the characters.

"Fog" by Miguel de Unamuno is a tragic-comedy with existential themes. It is very creative and thought provoking. A most enjoyable tome.

Thank you Northwestern University Press and Net Galley for the opportunity to read and review "Fog".

This Modernist novel is surprisingly fun to read. And by “fun” I do not simply mean that it is “interesting” and “intellectually satisfying” (although it is that is well) but it is also seriously entertaining.

As in any self-respecting Modernist novel, the plot is secondary, if not inexistent. Bored bachelor Augusto Pérez has lost his doting mother who, before passing on, insisted that he find himself a wife. It takes the gaze of piano-teacher Eugenia to finally awake Augusto’s passions. There is a problem though - the wilful Eugenia is not particularly drawn to Augusto. Apart from the fact that she already has a fiancé. Moreover, thanks to Eugenia, Augusto’s eyes are finally open to the charms of women in general, and the ones who surround him in particular. Meaning that he is soon embroiled in a nascent affair with the earthier Rosario, the young woman who does his laundry. In between Augusto’s hapless attempts at lovemaking, he indulges in philosophical discussions and meta-fictional discourses with the other characters, which culminate in a showdown with the Author himself. Add a prologue purportedly written by one of Unamuno’s fictional characters, a “postprologue” by the author, and an epilogue by Augusto’s dog, and you have the makings of a Modernist text, a work which challenges preconceptions about the role of the author, his characters and his readers.

Even at his most abstruse, Unamuno retains and light and comic touch. Indeed, when not exploding novelistic conventions to smithereens, he indulges in a type of comedy which reminds me of early Evelyn Waugh. I particularly enjoyed the scenes involving Eugenia’s uncle - a self-declared “theoretical, mystical anarchist” who believes that Esperanto will bring about world peace.

I sincerely hope that Elena Barcia’s translation will bring this novel to the attention of a wider English-speaking (and reading) public. It deserves to be known not only for its literary-historical merits, but also – and perhaps more importantly – because it is such a great read.