El oro de los dioses (Novela) (Spanish Edition)

If you ask me about his beauties, though I know them well, I propose that you ask Apollo, supreme judge on the matter, if the author of Quixote has burned incense on his immortal altars. Receive, O my father, these arguments of mine with the same pleasure that you listen, on still nights, to the complaints of Philomela.

The Nine Sisters and I have read in the gardens of Parnassus this book of which the wise Minerva spoke. Its merry style and pleasant rhythm sound in my ears like a sonorous fountain springing at the mouth of Umbrian cave. I beg you not to think me partisan because Cervantes dedicated to me many of his beautiful pages! If even in the extreme poverty that breeds the hunger, misery and woes that afflict the hapless, a humble son of mine has nevertheless been able to lift up to me his songs and to harmonize his accents, offering me a tribute more gorgeous and precious than my glittering chariot or my indomitable horses; if in a stinking dungeon, unhappy prison of a soul that yearns to fly, his well trained pen was able to pour forth torrents of dazzling poetry far sweeter and richer than the waters of the golden Pactolus, why, then, should we deny his superiority and not give him the victory as the greatest genius the universe has ever seen?

His Quixote is the favorite book of the Muses; and while with its humor it consoles the depressed and the melancholy and enlightens the ignorant, it is at the same time a history, the most faithful history of Spanish customs. I am, therefore, of the same opinion as the wise Pallas --and may the gods who do not share that opinion forgive me.

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This do you remember well, ungrateful Apollo. And Virgil--has he not also been poor? Did he not live for a long time on a single loaf of bread, a gift of Caesar? The melancholy that breathes from his works--does it not tell enough of how much his sensitive and delicate heart must have suffered? Could he have suffered less than the brilliant Homer or the gay Cervantes?

All that is true, no doubt. But you must not forget that Cervantes was wounded, overpowered and taken captive on the inhospitable soil of Africa, where he drained to the dregs the chalice of bitterness living under the constant threat of death. Jupiter gestures that he agrees with Minerva. While a drop of immortal blood warms my veins, Cervantes shall not win! Jupiter, I helped you one time; so listen to my reasons. Light and truth spring from his words. How indeed can we permit this man whose glory Time has respected and let Saturn speak out to see himself displaced by a one- armed upstart, the scorn of society?

And if you, father of gods and men, doubt the force of my arguments, inquire of these others if there be any among then who would sustain his reasons with his arm! He strides arrogantly to the center, defying all with a look and brandishing his sword.

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But, so I may not be called reckless, I wish to show you how wrong you are. If he abandoned the sword to take up the pen, it was by the will of the immortals and not to disparage you, as you may have imagined in your wild delirium. Speaking more gently Do not then be ungrateful, you whose generous heart is inaccessible to rancor and odious passions. Cervantes ridiculed knight errantry because it was no longer proper to his time.

Besides those are not the combats that do you honor, but battles in the open field, as you well know.

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Having spoken Minerva, like a lightning-loaded cloud approaching another over the center of the ocean when the sky darkens, slowly marches forward, clasping her formidable shield and lowering her spear, a terrible angel of destruction, of tranquil but terrifying look, the sound of her voice striking fear.

Bellona places herself beside Mars, ready to help him. On seeing this, Apollo drops his lyre and seizes his bow, draws an arrow from his golden quiver and, placing himself besides Minerva, pulls his bow, ready to shoot. Olympus, on the verge of collapse, shakes; the light of day darkens and the gods tremble. And you, Mars and Bellona, do not provoke celestial fury! I shall put an end this dispute. Justice shall weigh the books with strict impartiality; and what she decrees shall be followed in the world, while you shall accept her immutable judgment.

Justice descends from her throne and goes to the center, bearing impartial scales, on which Mercury places the Aenied and the Quixote. After oscillating for a long time, the needle finally points to the middle, indicating that the books have equal weights. Venus is shocked but keeps silent. Mercury removes the Aenied and replaces it with the Iliad. A smile appears on the lips of Juno, a smile that speedily vanishes when she sees the two scales bearing the Quixote and the Iliad rising and falling. Suspense grips everyone; no one speaks, no one breathes. A zephyr flies overhead and lands on the branch of a tree, to await the verdict of Destiny.

Bow your heads, then, and let us give the trumpet to Homer, the lyre to Virgil, and the laurel crown to Cervantes, while Fame shall publish in the world the verdict of Destiny, and Apollo shall intone a hymn to the new star that from now on shall shine in the sky of glory and occupy a seat in the temple of immortality.

Praise to your name, splendid luminary, around who, in the days to come, shall revolve a thousand intellectuals, admirers of your glory! Hail, masterpiece of the land of the Almighty, pride of Spain!

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Most beautiful of the flowers that crown my brows, I salute you! You shall eclipse the glories of antiquity; your name, written in letters of gold in the temple of immortality, shall be the despair of other geniuses! Mighty giant, you shall be invincible! Rising like a superb monument in the midst of your century, you shall draw all eyes. Your powerful arm shall vanquish your enemies as a hungry fire consumes dry straw.

Go, inspired Muses; gather fragrant myrtle, beauteous laurel and red roses, and weave immortal crowns for Cervantes. Pan and Silenus, and you fauns and merry satyrs, dance on the carpet of the dark forests, while the nereids, the naiads, the noisy undines and the playful nymphs, scattering a thousand fragrant flowers, embellish with their songs the solitude of the seas, the lakes, the water falls and the rivers, and agitate the clear surface of the fountains in their diverse games. The Muses, nymphs, naiads, etc.

Apollo and Erato play the lyre; Euterpe, the flute; Clio, the trumpet; and Calliope, the bugle. Meanwhile, the gods and goddesses arrange themselves on either side of the stage, which has been cleared of their thrones. Marcha Real is played and a second curtain opens, revealing an illuminated bust of Cervantes being crowned by one of the mortals. Jupiter [the chief deity, god of the skies: At his right is his wife, the jealous Juno [the sister and wife of Jupiter, queen of the gods, and goddess of marriage: At his left is the wise Pallas [the goddess of wisdom, skills, and warfare; she is also known as Athena.

In gracious mess reclines the lovely Venus [the goddess of love and beauty; also known as the Greek Aphrodite] on a bed of roses, crowned with fragrant myrtle, caressing Cupid [the god of love, son of Venus: Delightful Apollo [the god of music, poetry, prophecy, and medicine, represented as exemplifying manly youth and beauty.

Completing that select circle are Mars [the god of war; also known as the Greek Ares. Behind Jupiter and Juno are, Hebe [Note: An undine is a feminine water spirit who can acquire a soul by marrying and bearing a child to a human], who, scattering flowers, dance to the lyres of Apollo and Erato and the flute of Euterpe. Enter Mercury [the messenger of the gods, the god of commerce, manual skill, eloquence, cleverness, travel, and robbery: Enter Bacchus [the god of wine and revelry: Minerva, about to speak, is silenced by gesture of Jupiter, but expresses her disdain with a smile that alerts the delicate serenity of her shapely lips.

Thus I--the king of the gods-- desire to begin this feast with a literary contest. I have here a magnificent war trumpet, a lyre and a crown of laurel, all exquisitely made. Who, like him, has sung your grandeur and that of the other gods so magnificently, as if he had surprised us right here on Olympus and been present at our gatherings? I pray you not to allow that he who sang [he is the epic poet Virgil who wrote the Aeneid of whom Aeneas is the hero. Call to mind the lyre of Virgil, which sang of our glories and made sweet even the laments of tragic love.

His most sweet and melancholy verses stir the soul; he praised piety in the person of the son of Anchises [that is, Aeneas of whom Anchises is his father]: Aeneas is greater and more virtuous than the irritable Achilles [The hero of The Iliad]. A legend holds that Homer was a blind beggar from that island]. But you, Jupiter, why do you not intervene in this debate? Please do not take my words wrong, ever submitted to the will of the Lightning Thrower [that is, Jupiter]. Ignored and unknown, he became the plaything of envy and vile passions, overwhelmed by disaster, the sad fate of great spirits.

The Quixote, his great labor, is a whip that punishes and corrects, drawing not blood but laughter; it is a nectar that contains the virtues of a bitter medicine; it is a caressing hand that energetically disciplines human passions.

The world found itself invaded by a kind of foolishness, dismal and frenzied, spread by the idiotic pens of feverish imaginations. At his appearance, truth again occupied her throne, announcing a new era to the world, and then corrupted. The Nine Sisters [that is, the Muses] and I have read in the gardens of Parnassus [that is, gardens of poetic activity. Gold is supposed to be found in the sands of its riverbanks. I am, therefore, of the same opinion as the wise Pallas--and may the gods who do not share that opinion forgive me. If the greatest merit of Cervantes consists in having endured so many misfortunes, and since, in other respects, he surpasses no one, if indeed he is not surpassed, then I can also say that Homer, blind and miserable, once subsisted on public charity which Cervantes never did , wandering through the towns and cities with his lyre as his only friend and living in the most complete misery.

The melancholy that breathes from his works -- does it not tell enough of how much his sensitive and delicate heart must have suffered? Could he have suffered less than the brilliant Homer or the witty Cervantes? How can I permit a book to rise victorious that hurls my glory to the ground and makes mock my feasts? Cervantes followed your banners and served you heroically on the waters of Lepanto [In this battle Cervantes lost the use of his left hand as he fought the Turks in Olympus, on the verge of collapse, shudders; the light of day darkens and the gods tremble.

Like cruel wild beasts in an iron cage obeying the voice of their bold master, those four gods return to their respective seats, scared by the threat of the son of Cybele, who, on seeing their obedience, speaks more gently. After oscillating for a long time, the needle finally points to the middle, indicating that the books are equal. A zephyr [a soft, gentle west wind represented by a gentle, light fabric. At last the scales rest equal and remain still. Hail to thee, greatest of men, favorite son of the Muses, core of the intense light that shall illuminate the universe -- hail!

Rising like a superb monument in the midst of your century, you shall draw all eyes to yourself. Pan [a god of fields, forests, wild animals, flocks, and shepherds, represented as having the legs, horns and ears of a goat: Often playing a reed pipe. His magnum opus, Don Quixote, often considered the first modern novel, is a classic of Western literature and is regularly regarded among the best novels ever written. His work is considered among the most important in all of literature. His influence on the Spanish language has been so great that Spanish is often called la lengua de Cervantes The language of Cervantes.

Leonor died on October 19, The family moved from town to town, and little is known of Cervantes's early years. In , Cervantes moved to Italy where he served as a valet to Giulio Acquaviva, a wealthy priest who was elevated to cardinal the next year. By then, Cervantes had enlisted as a soldier in a Spanish Navy infantry regiment and continued his military life until , when he was captured by Algerian pirates. He was ransomed from his captors by his parents and the Trinitarians. He returned to his family in Madrid.

In , Cervantes published a pastoral novel, La Galatea.

Because of financial problems, Cervantes worked as a purveyor for the Spanish Armada, and later as a tax collector. In discrepancies in his accounts of three years previous landed him in the Crown Jail of Seville. In , he settled in Madrid, where he lived and worked until his death. During the last nine years of his life, Cervantes solidified his reputation as a writer; he published the Exemplary Novels Novelas ejemplares in , the Journey to Parnassus in , and in , the Ocho comedias y ocho entremeses and the second part of Don Quixote. Probably Cervantes was born on September 29 the feast day of St.

The probable date of his birth was determined from records in the church register. He was baptized on October 9. His mother was the third daughter of a nobleman, who lost his fortune and had to sell his daughter into matrimony. It seems that he spent much of his childhood moving from town to town with his family. During this time he met a young barmaid, Josefina Catalina De Parez. The couple fell madly in love and plotted to run away together. Sadly her father discovered their plans and forbade Josefina from ever seeing Cervantes again.

It seems that, much like Dickens' father, Miguel's father was embargoed for debt. The court records of the proceedings show a very poor household. While some of his biographers argue that he studied at the University of Salamanca, there is no solid evidence for supposing that he did so.

In any event, in going to Italy, Cervantes was doing what many young Spaniards of the time did to further their careers in one way or another. Rome would reveal to the young artist its ecclesiastic pomp, ritual, and majesty. He could find in the ancients "a powerful impetus to revive the contemporary world in light of its accomplishments".

Thus, Cervantes' continuing desire for Italy, as revealed in his later works, was in part a desire for a return to an earlier period of the Renaissance. He was there for about a year before he saw active service. Though taken down with fever, Cervantes refused to stay below, and begged to be allowed to take part in the battle, saying that he would rather die for his God and his king than keep under cover. He fought bravely on board a vessel, and received three gunshot wounds — two in the chest, and one which rendered his left arm useless.

In Journey to Parnassus he was to say that he "had lost the movement of the left hand for the glory of the right" he was thinking of the success of the first part of Don Quixote. Cervantes always looked back on his conduct in the battle with pride: After the Battle of Lepanto Cervantes remained in hospital for around six months, before his wounds were sufficiently healed to allow his joining the colors again. La guerra contra el feminismo en nombre del Todopoderoso: Respuesta a Giovanni Arrighi Joan W. La querelle de las mujeres a finales del siglo XX Immanuel Wallerstein: El eurocentrismo y sus avatares: El marxismo y lo meramente cultural Pierre Bourdieu: El ladrillo y el globo: Heterosexismo, falta de reconcimiento y capitalismo: Poder en el escenario global Michel Aglietta: El capitalismo en el cambio de siglo: El nacionalismo y el caso de Irlanda Benedict Anderson: Presente y futuro del nacionalismo indonesio Michael Mann: La cara oculta de la democracia: El protectorado bosnio y las implicaciones para Kosovo James K.

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Write a customer review. Showing of 7 reviews. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Kindle Edition Verified Purchase. El libro demasiado largo. El hecho de que se hable de un conquistador desconocido es excelente. It has a lot of interesting stories and narration. A few spots that were difficult to get through though. Unlike the smooth reading of the other two. No encontraba lugar para la esperanza. Reinan aparte distintos conquistadores que, hasta entonces, mandaban un cuarto de las riquezas robadas de los tribus naturales al corte imperial para luego administrar las nuevas tierras a sus antojo.

One person found this helpful. Yo primero lei El pais de la canela y ahora esta que es la primera novela de una trilogia a completar. Para disfrutar un buen momento para todos aquellos que disfruta de las novelas.