Benito Pérez Galdós wrote this work at a time of great literary maturity, mastering all the necessary tools to create a masterpiece. It is one of the greatest peaks of our literature, perhaps just a step below Don Quixote, but rivaling La Regenta. Its narrative is like a river of life, with its bright and clear waters as well as its swamps and murky currents.
The book reflects a part of life in Madrid, capturing the charms of the 19th-century city, with its streets, churches, and markets. It is a rich and complex novel, from which many aspects can be approached, though here only a first impression is offered.
Galdós’ prose is not exuberant nor does it seek to shine with brilliant metaphors. It is the prose of a distant observer, who looks at his vast creation with irony, without embellishments. Despite its sobriety, it is a precise, carefully calculated prose, meant to reflect reality as it is. His situations are so realistic and complex, so deeply human, that they could easily be real. It is a masterfully constructed work.
Nothing escapes Galdós' penetrating gaze: the author is both the creator and witness of everything that happens, showing us, calmly and orderly, every detail worth noting. He is a profound understanding of human nature, capable of criticizing with sarcasm the hypocrisy of a society that, seemingly, has no virtues, but instead does everything to maintain appearances. Like Clarín, he shares a pessimistic view of human virtues and makes detailed descriptions of social classes, from the bourgeoisie to the popular sectors.
One of Galdós’ greatest achievements is his ability to capture the different ways his characters speak, from the madness of Pacheco to the popular language of Fortunata, through the affection of lovers or the philosophical discussions of Feijoo. Each character has a unique way of expressing themselves, and Galdós knows how to reflect these differences with skill.
The characters come to life: they act, think, and evolve on their own. We observe them in their internal and social struggles. Fortunata represents the people, rough and wild, while Jacinta embodies the correctness of the bourgeoisie. Galdós skillfully intertwines social conflicts with the development of the story.
Dreams, filled with chaos and contradictions, reveal the subconscious of the characters and bring us closer to their inner conflicts. Like Clarín, Galdós presents an anticlerical tone, depicting the clergy as clumsy and incapable, with the exception of Guillermina la Santa, who is portrayed somewhat caricatured.
Regarding morality, the author presents a reflection on compassion, which does not mean approving of sin, but understanding the suffering of others without ceasing to wish the good for them. Galdós invites us to reflect on the true nature of good and evil, without falling into permissiveness.