Carmen Martín Gaite returns to her home in Salamanca

The vaults were designed to store treasures and those of the former Bank of Spain in Salamanca have recovered their function. The underground galleries have several types of chests: dozens of small metal drawers, numbered and with a small key assigned to reveal their contents, or three large rooms more typical of movies or series of robberies and mafia tricks. Inside these last rooms, painted pure white, there are only gray cardboard filing cabinets with a label on the back. There are no gold bars or jewelry, but a literary legacy: the personal archive of the novelist Carmen Martín Gaite (Salamanca, 1925-Madrid, 2000). Original writings with corrections and crossed outs, detailed illustrations, charming collages, titles and awards are distributed among the folders under strict custody. Outside, on display, are some pieces or replicas among murals with the timeline and milestones of the author, born and raised in that same Plaza de los Bandos in Salamanca.

The transfer was made official on February 2 after years of struggle by the University of Salamanca to return this extensive archive to its small homeland, preserved until then in the Library of Castilla y León, in Valladolid. “It was a great effort and a commitment by the previous rector’s cabinet, it was like having had the works of Miguel Delibes in Salamanca, they had no relationship,” argues Daniel González, then director of the rector’s cabinet. Finally, the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of the Presidency of the Castilian Government gave in and sent the materials to the current International Spanish Center of the University of Salamanca (USAL).

This literary heritage reveals the multidisciplinary nature of Martín Gaite, capable of winning various awards for his novels while also translating complex works such as Madame Bovary, design some of your book covers or have fun creating new ones collages with clippings from magazines or publications. Luis Barrio, director of Cultural Activities at USAL – now in office due to the recent resignation of the rector and elections for the election of his successor – summarizes his abilities in this way: “He wrote in any notebook or paper that fell into his hands. ”.

The exhibition also shows how the author, who died of cancer at the age of 74, was fully aware of which elements she wanted to bequeath for posterity and which ones to take with her when she died. “This is the entire legacy that she consciously left; when Ignacio Aldecoa died [escritor y amigo personal de la novelista] “He locked himself in and burned all his letters,” Barrio illustrates. The writer seems to observe the visitor with her pearly hair and her lively gaze from some of the 4,700 photographs preserved in the complex, accompanied by some 1,400 manuscripts and 25 books, all valued at approximately one million euros.

The Junta de Castilla y León has transferred the material for 20 years, although the president, also a charro, Alfonso Fernández Mañueco (PP), admitted that “no one in their right mind” would think of a possible move. There are only a few months left until 2025, when various events are planned to celebrate the centenary of the birth of Carmen Martín Gaite, with Salamanca always present in her works and demands, such as when she fought the construction of an underground parking lot in the square where she was born. There they remember her with a large bust.

The archive was divided between 91 boxes and eight large folders with diplomas, countless awards and other documents. The narrow and elongated drawers store awards such as the National Prize for Spanish Letters, which was awarded to her in 1994, making her the first woman to obtain that distinction. There is also the Prince of Asturias Award in 1988 or her recognition as Honorary Member of the Readers’ Circle in 1999, months before her death.

The writer was still unknown when she received her Bachelor’s degree in Salamanca, with a career in literature yet to explode. She first signed her collaborations in various magazines under the name “Carmiña Martín Gaite”, until shortening it to the definitive Carmen Martín Gaite. In between, she resorted to the pseudonym Sofía Veloso to triumphantly compete for the 1957 Nadal Prize with between curtains. The author, then the partner of the writer Rafael Sánchez Ferlosio, winner of the previous edition, hid her identity in case that sentimental link kept her from the award.

The originals of this work demonstrate the thoroughness of its editor. A notebook intersperses hand-written paragraphs, presented in fluid black fountain pen ink, with typewritten pages pasted in different parts of the story. At some point, beyond crossing out and correcting expressions, she considered changing more complex phrases. When she writes “The threads to thread and weave the story of what is happening” she considers replacing it with “[…] or what could have happened to him”, but he ends up blurring it. “Elvira, not receiving a response, becomes Emilio’s girlfriend.” […]. You cannot know the damage you did to me by not answering,” the novel concludes, sentences written in blue. Beside him, the silhouette drawn of a left hand in green ink.

Some plates present a type of natural orchard under the name of Bergai, an imaginary island created with his friend Isabel Bernardo and named playing with both of their surnames. “There she was free,” says Luis Barrio, between explanations about the artistic tricks of the woman from Salamanca, such as when he designed the bases for the later cover of The Spa. The general public cannot access the archive, reserved for researchers, locked in another chamber repurposed into a work study center. One of them sums up: “Every time I open I find little gems.”