11 November 1888

Madrid

11 November 1888

Eduardo Lete

My dear Pepe,

Because of a letter of Friend Regidor that I received a few days ago, I believe it my duty to write you on a subject concerning you. Regidor says that there is a heated struggle over the choice of manager of the periodical that I have tried to found. Some want Llorente, others me; letters that I have received asked for my vote so that you may be elected manager.

I must begin the story of this affair by telling you that I have resigned as manager of the periodical. I am now in a position to attend freely to our affairs and now no one can impute to me any opinion that is not impartial and devoid of selfish purposes. I have resigned as I say the post of manager of our periodical which until now I thought I represent, expressing my resignation in a letter addressed to Mr. Ponce, for I understand that I alone represent the founders and capitalists of the new periodical which is about to appear. We can then judge together the vicissitudes of our periodical and my unfortunate management.

The España en Filipinas being dead – whose administration I am far from believing to be exempt from defects – the majority of the colony of Madrid as well as Barcelona and friendly persons stimulated me to write a circular for the revival of the periodical soliciting funds from our brothers in the Archipelago and sending it as manager of the publication. A record of the proceedings was signed here approving or authorizing my appeal and a copy of it was sent to Regidor. Finally, enthusiastic supporters in the Philippines and Barcelona began to send letters and funds for the new enterprise they entrusted to me. Thus was the state of things. I leave Madrid, leaving the colony in complete calm. I stay at the Exposition in Barcelona for twenty days, dealing with the compatriots there without observing or being advised of any motive for dissatisfaction or dissidence on my account. I return here at last, and I find unexpectedly that in Madrid as in Barcelona, in London as in Paris, there were being discussed the division in the colony, the dissatisfaction of some with the manager, new candidates for the position, to work for harmony and reconciliation of opposing factions; in a word, I find numerous unexpected questions which had arisen magically during my absence. Place yourself in my position, tell me what you would think of all this. I ask myself: What is going on? How could such serious incidents occur? How could this struggle arise without my knowledge? From where and from whom did this come? And what ought to concern me most, what is this discontent and since when has this discontent of some exist? How has it arisen? Ah! Everything will be cleared up with time, and I am so convinced of the meanness that vitiates the origin of this question that I do not even need that my so-called friends help me to discover the hidden bottom underneath it. I have enough with what I know and with what has already happened to be warned and to flee from new vexations. This is what I say now to the one who offers me settlement, for I do not have to settle, because I am defending my person, the post of manager of the periodical. The settlement is for the parties that are fighting. I believe that any one can manage the periodical better than I can, perhaps with more skill, ending this question without consideration. Of any kind.

I should like to ask you my friend for an explanation of certain unjust complaints which seem to be directed to me in a letter you wrote Cunanan[1] who read it to me, I do not know whether deliberately or with pardonable imprudence. Referring to an item in the periodical La Paz which clarified a praise of your novel published in that publication, you said: ‘This is the second time that I receive kicks from periodicals managed precisely by Filipinos. Foreign and even Spanish periodicals have treated me with more consideration; it is true that those who wrote in these were not in doubt [no nadaban entre dos aguas]. Many interpretations can be given to your words, and I understand that you have wished to indicate – laying aside the crudity of the phrase nadar entre dos aguas [swim between two waters] – this or something similar: “It is true that there were Spaniards and foreigners while the others were neither Spaniards nor Filipinos and it is obvious that being in doubt they have tried to please both sides, not daring to incline boldly ….” If this is so, I forgive you for this hyperbole for the sake of the harm that this manner of thinking does to yourself, you who boast of not knowing in your dictionary ….. regarding all your compatriots equally. I thought that your attitude towards all is the same, but I see that towards Cunanan you are different than towards me. I wrote you two letters at Calamba in one of which I explained this matter to you; but in short, what I have to tell you for my tranquility is that you are mistaken in your opinions and neither has Julio[2] been exact in what he said to me. He has told you about the review of your novel that ought to have been published by the periodical. You and he had thought that I, being manager, should have written the review, that I had taken charge of it. But nothing of the kind, I did not intend to do it. Neither was Evaristo Aguirrre assigned to do it nor could he make it, because hardly he opened the copy you sent him, he had to deliver it to the Ministerio de Fomento [Ministry of Development] for the question of its introduction. We agreed that it would be more proper to make Julio take care of the review because I believe he had read better your work and had a better impression of it. On account of his work or whatever it might be, he was not able to do it. He agrees with me to do it now and luckily, because I note that you are even grateful to him that he has not doing anything that might have turned out passionately favorable, while you criticize me and complain against me. I have another explanation to make to you as a friend. In your last letter from Geneva you complained against an item that I published, judging it by your reprehensible meticulousness or contempt when I swear by my honor that it was inspired by the best good faith. The periodical came out on the day of the receipt or acquisition of a copy of a novel and of putting the final touches on that number. So that without laying aside my pen, I read the dedication. I had no time but to look at the book. However I did not want to let it pass in silence without saying something, to advance something about the book, even if it is only a notice of it. What could I say about it? Well, the only thing that I had read on the first page was that it dealt with a social cancer. I promised in the form complete and impartial opinion on it. Is this contempt? Is this a judging that the work is bad as you say and the promise to take it up again is only a matter of courtesy? You judge your friends unfairly. If you think thus, you will make me believe that you are capable of behaving in the same way towards those who are your own. I am not capable of deceit, you know well, and I am incapable of the deed that you impute to me. Your work had deserved of me and deserves of me every kind of respect and affection. Would you like a light review in the ordinary style without even reading the book? I thought you deserved something more than that, hence the promise to take it up when I shall have formed an exact opinion after its perusal. Nobody interpreted that item as you have done and I believe that here you have friends as sensitive as they can be. Do you call that to give kicks? Believe what you please if you persist in your idea after what I have said.

Before the two letters I addressed to you at Calamba, I wrote you at Geneva a rather long letter expressing my sincere opinion of your book, mentioning the defects that for me it had and praising much that is worthy of praise in it. I am very sorry for that that letter did not reach your hand. Enclosed in it were my picture, that of Antonio Luna, that of a group which included Evaristo, taken at a Chinese fountain at the Retiro. With Julio’s letter I received a letter of the… 1st arrondissement saying that my letter could not be returned to me while the prescribed time has not elapsed. After this I claimed it and if it arrived at Madrid, it was lost here at the central post office.

I have no more time for more. I reiterate the friendship that I have never withdrawn and which is as intense as before.

Ever your affecitonate compatriot,

Lete

02-349 [Blumentritt V.1]