Reviews for The Tomb in Seville: Crossing Spain on the Brink of Civil War

The average rating for The Tomb in Seville: Crossing Spain on the Brink of Civil War based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2014-01-19 00:00:00 Chase Carpenter I have heard Norman Lewis referred to as the first really modern travel writer, but I wonder if that is true. Whether or not he was the first, however, the sheer volume and quality of Lewis's work do mark him out. The Tomb in Seville was his last book and was published posthumously in the autumn of 2003; he had died several months earlier at the age of 95. Lewis was born in 1908, in London, but to Welsh parents. Both were ardent spiritualists, and his upbringing (described vividly in his first volume of autobiography, Jackdaw Cake), was strange. As a young man he pursued various ventures, including the motor trade and motor racing, and was married, quite young, to the daughter of a Sicilian of noble Spanish descent, Ernesto Corvaja. In September 1934, Corvaja sent Lewis on a mission to Seville in search of the Corvaja ancestral tomb, which he hoped would be found in the cathedral. His son, Eugene Corvaja, travelled with Lewis. The Tomb in Seville is the account of their journey. There are some very odd things about this book, not least that it appeared not just posthumously but nearly 70 years after the journey it described. At the time, at least one critic expressed wonder that Lewis should still be writing so well in his 90s, but one wonders if this book was actually written much earlier. It may be that Lewis intended it as part of Jackdaw Cake, published nearly 20 years before - but then held it back for some reason, so that it remained unfinished business for decades. Certainly it has the air of something written much sooner after the event than 70 years. Equally odd was the timing of their journey. Spain was politically very tense - so much so that October 1934 saw a brief civil war in Spain; it ended quickly, but was a savagely violent interlude, the precursor to the larger conflict that was to follow less than two years later. At one point, Lewis and the younger Corvaja have to secure a place on an armoured train that takes them to Madrid. Here they alight to find themselves in the middle of a firefight, and as they dodge bullets to leave the station, Lewis notices a poster that assures them, in English, that "Spain Attracts and Holds You. Under the Blue Skies of Spain Cares Are Forgotten." The book is packed with bizarre incident. As the fighting comes to an end, Lewis and Eugene Corvaja attend a bullfight, and see the rejoneador­ (a lead bullfighter who fights with a lance) apparently gored to death ("it was given out that he was dead". In fact he was not, although Lewis does not mention this). They then decide to investigate a reported mania amongst Madrileños for drinking animal blood. They visit a slaughterhouse, but are "deterred by a woman on her way out, made terrible by the smile painted by the blood on her lips." Later, on their way through Portugal, the pair hear of a witch-burning, no less, in a small village in Porto called Marco do Canavezes. They travel there to find that the story is substantially true. The book sometimes raises questions it does not answer. Why would Corvaja senior send his son and his son-in-law on a quixotic journey through Spain in a time of trouble? Did they really hear of a witch-burning in Portugal? (Marco do Canavezes - actually Canaveses - is real enough, and is, oddly, the birthplace of the singer Carmen Miranda; but I can find no mention of the witch-burning story although that does not make it false.) But does that matter? Why strain at a story of witch-burning in 1934, when a much larger outbreak of atavistic savagery was just beginning? For the most part, the narrative seems heartfelt; the journey clearly left an impression on Lewis and, like Laurie Lee a few months later, he was struck by the poverty (in Andalusia, they "pass through settlements of windowless huts consisting of no more than holes dug in the ground with branch and straw coverings …to take the place of roofs"). The book is also alive with Lewis's descriptive genius. Thus he and Corvaja, stranded by the conflict, must walk from city to city through the countryside: …the rich gilding of summer returned to the Navarran landscape. …We moved across boundless plains of billowing rock purged of all colour by the sun. ...Behind the mountains ahead symmetrical and luminous clouds were poised without shift of position as we trudged towards them for hours on end. At our approach an anomalous yellow bloom shook itself from a single tree, transformed into a flock of singing green finches. Lizards, basking in the dust, came suddenly to life and streaked away into the undergrowth. Therein lies this book's great strength. It is intensely vivid. To be sure, the book's genesis is odd, and the circumstances of the journey mysterious; but it doesn't matter, for this is one of the best travel books of all time. Beautifully observed and written, it is like a trip through a wormhole - an almost covert glimpse of a world that has been forgotten. It is not perfect, but it does not have to be, for it has the freshness and warmth of a diary entry.

Review # 2 was written on 2014-10-04 00:00:00 Scott Waggoner This is a very entertaining book. Norman Lewis, an English traveler and journalist, describes his visit to Spain in 1934. To me, that is doubly motivating - on the one hand, you read travel literature and, on the other, the descriptions are referred to a world that no longer exists. Actually, the destination of the author's adventure across the Iberian Peninsula (Spain + Portugal) was Seville, and my father was born there one year after the author's visit. There's something I should mention about this work. Lewis initially wrote another account of that journey in 1935 (Spanish Adventure) where he also commented his stay in Southern France and Morocco. But, for some reason, he later on disowned that book. The version I have read was written at the end of his long life (95) and published the same year he died. Although the author draws on his travel notes, the old man had mixed in his memory his own experience with what he later on learnt about the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). It is true that he visited Spain in a turbulent year presaging the impending war. There was a rebellion of miners in the North (Asturias) and Catalonia briefly declared its independence. But the street fights Lewis describes in Madrid seem anachronistic and reminding too intensely the brushes that actually took place in the capital at the beginning of the war. Another lapse I caught is that he mentions Franco in 1934 and says the newspapers were already calling him the "Caudillo" (Spanish equivalent of German "Führer"). That is absolutely inexact. Franco actually kept a very low profile until the military rebellion had already started, and only took the lead after the major favorites (his rivals) disappeared of the scene. That is when the media began to call him "Caudillo". Nevertheless, the book is interesting for its descriptions, sometimes accompanied by very funny comments. For instance, after a combat in Madrid whence a butcher's shop window was riddled with shots, the author says the pork pieces hanging from hooks had been inflicted with "posthumous wounds". The travel account will also be of interest for the Portuguese. The author had hoped to travel from Salamanca to Seville, but the Spanish situation was chaotic, so he was advised to go to Porto and, from there, travel South (Coimbra, Lisbon, Alentejo and Vila Real de Santo António) before illegally crossing the frontier again and finally arriving in Seville. And his impressions of that poor Portugal of the 1930s were very positive. Some shocked me or made me laugh… so much, that I will avoid spoilers and let you find for yourself.