Cercas’ “Soldier of Salamis has a bewildering jigsaw puzzle- like structure and form, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It invited the reader to accompany the narrator on his quest to piece together fragmented information from the past, through archives, oral history and other resources. I would categorize Cercas’ writing style as historical fiction, in part due to the similarities in the public figures and themes of Francoism to the loom large in the accounts, and most of their stories are accounts of the historical truth.
The narrator, who is divorced, childless and recently fatherless, begins a journey to uncover the truth of Sanchez Mazas story of survival in a historical event that took place in his life. He is gripped by uncovering this story, as a writer and a journalist and it awakens his passion to write again. All other aspects of his life, such as his formal job, and relationships, are depicted on the periphery of his narration- highlighting the importance of writing the story of Mazas for him. Personally, the facts I read about Mazas and his drive for fascism and a return of absolute dictatorship control was not for me. It was built on a dream of fascism – and I could not connect with his ideas, but the interesting part of this was, that I could easily admire his belief in his own ideas. This prompts the question (that the narrator investigates as well) of what makes a hero? As far as violence, radicalism and dictatorship is concerned, Mazas only had them, without ever fighting or engaging in violence for them.
A key element in the narrator’s writing was that he was not writing a novel, but a “tale”. The distinction for him was clear (even in the face of it being obscure in other people’s minds). He hoped to uncover a parallel or close version of the truth; “if we manage to unveil one of these parallel secrets, we might perhaps also touch on a more essential secret” (p. 12) which indicated his commitment to reaching closer to this ultimate form of truth. he hope being that the fictional invention will be more convincing in the end than any biographical memoir. It is as though he hopes being that the fictional tale will be closer to a more convincing account in the end than any existing memoir of Mazas.
As a concluding thought, the book is a fascinating account of memory and history- and how they are both reliable, and unreliable and in the case of Mazas, can only truly be verified in some parts, leaving room for fiction.
Food for thought:
How do you approach the cautionary mark of fiction that lies in the opening pages of the book, as someone who knows the context?