Auca : Grandfather’s Silence

This novel tells the story of my maternal grandfather, Pere Bertran Tarrès. I knew him for some thirty years in the French Basque Country. He remained silent about his past. He read Spanish newspapers, but never accompanied us to Spain, even though it was just across the border. I learned that he had been mayor of his hometown, Igualada, in Catalonia, during the Civil War, and that he had gone into exile in France. Yet the silence remained.

After a long dictatorship, Spain underwent a democratic transition. This made possible the enactment of memory laws and the opening of Civil War archives to the public. The veil of silence has gradually begun to lift. Taking advantage of these developments, I was able to meet a number of people, including the historian Antoni Dalmau, and to consult archives in Catalonia, Salamanca, and France. I also had access to a file containing letters written by my grandparents and my mother from France to Spain during their exile. Despite censorship, these letters were preserved, and we eventually found them in Igualada. Together, these sources made it possible to attempt to reconstruct my grandfather's journey.

For me, it was a kind of journey of discovery. Thanks to hundreds of documents, I have finally been able to get to know my grandfather: a young working-class anarcho-syndicalist active in the strikes long before the Civil War; to follow his first steps as mayor, alongside his colleagues, in the midst of catastrophe; to see how he succeeded in halting the initial bloodshed in his town before helping to launch the unprecedented social revolution that unfolded in Catalonia during the Civil War; to uncover his social work week after week; to come face to face with decrees of the Generalitat, such as the January 1937 decree authorizing voluntary abortion in public health centers... all the way to his exile in France during the Withdrawal. I also discovered what his life became there—first in the internment camps, and later, free at last, though living under German occupation.

I searched through our family's photographic archives and came to the conclusion that the best tribute I could pay to my grandfather, and to those closest to him, was to create a kind of Auca. An Auca is a single large format illustrated sheet, typically made up of 48 images, each accompanied by a short verse. Popular in Catalonia for centuries, it has tended to re-emerge during periods of great upheaval: during the War of Independence of 1808 against the Napoleonic invaders, and again in 1936, during the Civil War, when it was used to promote the antifascist cause. 

For an illustrated novel, the idea was to establish a narrative rhythm in which each chapter would conclude with illustrations that both expanded upon and lightened the text. I created these paintings using diluted India ink wash, patiently searching for those beloved faces. Humour and optimism are never far away. The complete Auca, together with the full set of paintings, is presented in the accompanying document

In the end, it was Antoni Dalmau who, intrigued, I asked: “Why did my grandfather remain silent?” He looked at me in surprise before replying: “To protect you!” Living in France, I had not fully grasped the ordeal endured by Spaniards who were forced into silence, both in Spain and in exile, during and after all those years of brutal repression that followed the Civil War.

ANS

 Le Silence de grand-père         Antoine Nieto Sandoval        © Editions I'Harmattan

https://www.editions-harmattan.fr/catalogue/livre/le-silence-de-grand-pere/82489