What a pleasant breakfast, Luísa stretched her arms indolently;
she could see Jorge watching her cleavage where her robe had fallen open. Jorge
liked her looks, although not beautiful in a conventional way, her masses of
beautiful brown hair and her wide brown eyes were good to look at, her
curvaceous figure was delicious add to it a pleasant nature and Luísa was what
every man would dream and want in a wife.
But Luísa was bored, her day yawned before her, what to do? How to
get the day to move faster? Go to the milliner, she had dozens of hats of every
hue. Dresses by the dozens to match her numerous hats, so a visit to the
dressmaker was really unnecessary.
Library, that again tedious, she had read piles of those milk-and-water
romances, they were turning to be oh so predictable, the lovers most of the
times from nobility, feigning dislike for each other only to marry ultimately, the
settings always opulent, the situations decadent, tea parties, balls, hunts everything
catered for a life of hedonism, which only royalty and nobility could afford. Luísa
smiled, when had she gone for a hunt, those novels were a far cry from her life.
As for sex, the novels ignored it, sex just did not happen, if the
couples so much as exchanged a kiss that was bold.
Now what Luísa really liked were her conversations with her friend
Leopoldina, that woman was something, dozens of lovers and such erotic stories.
You make me blush Leopoldina, no, no how can one do such things. Angel, my
angel, Leopoldina would laugh with a superior air born of experience and
knowledge. Of course Luísa had to pretend that such eroticism scandalised her, horrified her, but they both knew
that was a façade, of course Luísa had to pretend not to like those racy stories,
act as though sex was not for her, didn’t you know a lady of society never likes
sex? Just grins and bears it. Come now we know better, who in their right mind can
resist sex?
And then one fine day in conversation with that stick-in-the-mud
Sebastião, Jorge decides that she, Luísa was not to talk to Leopoldina, was to
stop her from visiting, a total embargo on Leopoldina. In their opinion Leopoldina
was destroying her innocence, Luísa had no problems if her innocence was in
tatters, she wanted her purity to be sullied, she was a full blooded woman
after all. Of course Jorge wanted her to be the perfect, demure wife, but what Luísa
really wanted was excitement, romance and most of all to experience what Leopoldina
did, oh yes that was a thrilling prospect. She sighed, what a bleak existence she
really led. What was she to do? Vaguely she heard Jorge blabbing, oh how he
would miss her, his little treasure, his little heart. Jorge was going on a
field trip. Luísa would miss him too but she knew that Jorge would not be sad for
too long, he would find women, he would have his flings.
She breathed in deeply, and then a snippet in the corner of the
newspaper caught her eye. Her cousin Basilio was visiting the country. She was excited, went red and warm, remembering
those moments of awakening when Basilio visited her so often and they would go
on those long, long walks stealing kisses and caresses whilst Mama broke her
duties as a chaperone to have little naps. Oh how she had loved Basilio. Loved
him intensely with all he passion of a young girl. And then all of a sudden he
had gone away to make his fortune. Had he? She wondered made his fortune? Would
he visit her? Suddenly her day did not seem endless, in fact it seemed shorter
and she had so much to do. A hat for instance.
Of course Basilio would visit her; he could never resist a woman
besides he already knew her, those walks, those luscious kisses all under
Mama’s very nose. He was sure she had turned delectable, a red plum waiting to
be picked. Basilio thought of women as
fruit to be nurtured, to be picked when ripe and savoured. Plums, peaches,
nectarines he loved them all, just waiting for him. Visit her he did and was
not surprised that she was not at all averse to his attentions, she was coy,
she flirted with him and yes as Basilio had foreseen she was ready to fall in
his arms much like a ripe peach.
On suggesting that they rent a room for more privacy, Luísa never
balks, never even bats an eyelid, oh to experience everything that Leopoldina
was talking about, she imagines the setting for the idyll to be congenial,
opulent perhaps, but to her surprise it is just a shabby little room in a derelict
area. Despite the sadness of the room the affair continues.
Although Luísa has to travel a long distance to get to the shabby
room, which now seems home, she does not pull back. She is feverish at the
thought of not meeting Basilio.
Even when Juliana, the wretched servant catches hold of some of Luísa’s
letters and blackmails her, Luísa hangs on to the sordid liaison.
Then Juliana not only blackmails Luísa but treats her with utter
disdain, wears Luísa’s clothes, lazes around not doing a jot of work whilst Luísa
slaves the entire day, except when she escapes for her rendezvous. Juliana
lords over Luísa, how sweet can revenge be? Does Luisa stop her affair? Oh no,
it only increases her passion for Basilio.
Despite the fact that Luísa now realises that to Basilio she is
just a toy, is not even courteous, treats her badly, but she hangs in there.
Jorge prolongs his stay; he is away for so long that we wonder, does
he have a relationship of his own?
Then Jorge returns and Basilio flies the coop, no more promises of
Paris, no more endearments, it’s too murky a situation for Basilio, why tangle
with Jorge over a piece of skirt, anyway there were no more surprises to be had
from Luísa, he was done with her.
Things go from bad to worse for Luísa; her guilt weighs on her so
heavily that she falls ill. Just when she is about to recover Jorge shows her a
letter that Basilio has written, accuses her, but Luísa so traumatised falls
apart, never recovers and dies of an
unnamed illness.
Now questions arise.
Why did Eça de Queiroz who was writing a novel of realism ‘kill’ Luísa?
What was he afraid of?
Did he want to show that the sin of ‘adultery’ in a woman, can
never be forgiven, can never be condoned, a woman can never go scot free; so
did Eça punish Luísa by killing her?
Or was Eça afraid of a much more devastating situation, was he terrified
that women would begin to like their sexual freedom? Had Luísa lived would she
have taken more lovers, much like the wanton Leopoldina? Did he fear was that
he had created a monster, much like Frankenstein which he did not know how to
rein in?
Oh Eça you opened a can of worms which was very difficult to close……….
