Tuesday, August 16

The ghosts of Congress



At night, in the dark and empty chamber, the murmur of the prayers of the Convent of the Holy Spirit persists, which was where the Congress was located. Against this background, barely a whisper due to the time that has elapsed, but an indelible whisper like everything sacred, pieces of proclamations resound from time to time, fragments of speeches that preserve the memorable opportunity of one, the happy discovery of the other, moments of inspired oratory. of some governors and parliamentarians. Far from the nineteenth-century context, condemned to distort the interpretations of the brief and brave republican time of the thirties, bored by the decades of Francoist attorneys, we will probably not understand the reason for the extraordinary strength of that phrase, the orator’s star that suddenly connects with

history, knowing that it leaves indelible words.

Born for the art of explaining themselves with profanity and lifting the audience from their seats, from their seats, the most fortunate have been awarded with a statue in Madrid or with a bust in the Congress itself. But those of us who have frequented those corridors and halls know of the oblivion that has fallen on the most tenacious conspirators of the Lhardy. Now only the bronze rushed by the day remains, and the inexplicable, ghostly voices, at night without ears. And the guard dozes, is startled, settles down and then dreams.

They were voting for a president of the Executive Power of the First Republic when Pavia entered. But do not try any psychophony in search of the echo of the hooves. Contrary to the widespread legend, the general did not enter on horseback. He did not like the dismissal of Castelar, the scourge of Isabel who did earn several monuments. We owe that of the Castellana to the Levantine Benlliure. The long and spread fingers of the right hand, as if forming a half-star in the distance, the left leaning on the seat opposite, are the way in which inert matter tells the walker what eloquence is. A ‘déjà vu’ of the XIX had Santiago Carrillo on February 23 of the shame: “Pavía arrives earlier than planned,” he tells Jordi Solé Tura. From the ground, hunched over, my teacher tugs on the pants of the old communist leader so that he takes the same precaution as everyone, except for Suárez and Gutiérrez Mellado. But Carrillo refuses. He’s been in exile for too long, or is he taking for granted that he will be killed regardless of body posture. So he prefers the dignified sitting position, after all that of a deputy.

The realistic sculptor who today wants to leave the reflection of reality in marble, bronze or granite will ask his model to, in addition to remaining seated, bow his head. The normal thing is to look at the mobile while the speaker on duty punishes the Castilian from the rostrum. And that reading the writing of an assistant. When he comes up and chooses to improvise, he won’t hit a whole sentence that appears in the Session Diary.

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