# The Seven Madmen, Up in the Tree Los siete locos · Roberto Arlt · Part One Source: https://1732studios.com/books/arlt/arriba-del-arbol. Data: https://1732studios.com/books/arlt/arriba-del-arbol.json. Audio: https://audio.1732studios.com/arlt/.m4a. Amanece. Day is breaking. > Weather and daylight verbs: «Amanecer» ('to dawn') is one of the impersonal verbs Spanish uses for natural phenomena, like «llover» (to rain) or «anochecer» (to grow dark). It has no subject — «amanece» on its own means 'day is breaking'. Arlt opens the chapter with a single bare verb to fix the hour at first light. Erdosain avanza por el sendero que bordea la vereda rota junto a las quintas. Erdosain walks along the path that runs beside the broken sidewalk by the market gardens. > «quinta»: A «quinta» in River Plate Spanish is a country house or small farm on the edge of the city — here the truck-garden plots that ringed Buenos Aires in the 1920s. «Vereda» is the regional word for 'sidewalk' (Spain would say «acera»). La frescura de la mañana penetra hasta la más remota celdilla de sus pulmones fatigados. The coolness of the morning reaches the most remote little cell of his tired lungs. Aunque arriba el espacio negrea, y toda esta oscuridad desciende a aproximar las cosas a los ojos, pues las distantes son invisibles en el horizonte. Although overhead the sky still darkens, and all this darkness comes down to bring things close to the eyes, since the distant ones are invisible on the horizon. > «-ear» color verbs: «Negrear» means 'to show black, to look black'. Spanish turns many color and light adjectives into verbs with «-ear»: «verdear» (to look green), «rojear» (to redden), «blanquear» (to whiten). Arlt leans on them throughout this dawn scene to paint the changing light. Por el canal de callejones, rojean lentamente unas fajas verdegrises. Through the channel of back alleys, some grey-green bands slowly redden. Erdosain avanza pensando: Erdosain walks on, thinking: > The gerund of manner: «Pensando» is the gerund (the «-ando/-iendo» form) attached to a main verb to show what someone does while doing the main action: «avanza pensando» = 'he advances thinking', i.e. 'he walks on, thinking'. It is Spanish's standard way to layer two simultaneous actions. –Esto es triste como el desierto. —This is sad as the desert. Ahora ella duerme con él. Right now she is sleeping with him. Rápidamente la claridad aguanosa del alba colma los callejones de vahos blanquecinos. Quickly the watery brightness of dawn fills the alleys with whitish vapors. Erdosain se dice: Erdosain says to himself: > Reflexive «decirse»: The reflexive pronoun «se» turns «decir» (to say) into 'to say to oneself': «se dice» = 'he says to himself'. Spanish marks inner speech this way constantly, and Arlt uses it to keep us inside Erdosain's head. –Sin embargo, hay que ser fuerte. —Still, one has to be strong. > «hay que» + infinitive: «Hay que» plus an infinitive expresses impersonal obligation — 'one must', 'it is necessary to': «hay que ser fuerte» = 'one has to be strong'. Unlike «tener que», it names no particular person who must act; the duty hangs over everyone. It becomes Erdosain's refrain in this passage. Me acuerdo de cuando era chico. I remember when I was a kid. > «acordarse de»: «Acordarse» is a pronominal verb that always takes «de» before its object: «me acuerdo de…» = 'I remember…'. Don't confuse it with «acordar» (to agree) — the reflexive «se» and the preposition «de» are what mean 'to remember'. Creía ver caminar, por las crestas de las nubes, grandes hombres con el pelo rizado y chapados de la luz los verticales miembros. I used to think I saw walking, along the crests of the clouds, great men with curly hair and their upright limbs plated in light. > Imperfect for a childhood habit: «Creía» is the imperfect of «creer». The imperfect tense renders repeated or ongoing states in the past — 'I used to think / I would think' — the natural tense for childhood memory, set against the single, completed actions a preterite would mark. En realidad caminaban dentro del país de Alegría que estaba en mí. In reality they walked inside the country of Joy that was within me. ¡ Ah!, y perder un sueño es casi como perder una fortuna. Ah!, and to lose a dream is almost like losing a fortune. > Infinitive as subject: Spanish uses the bare infinitive where English uses the «-ing» form as a noun: «perder un sueño es…» = 'losing a dream is…'. The infinitive «perder» is the grammatical subject of «es». (The spacing «¡ Ah!» is Arlt's own, kept verbatim.) ¿Qué digo? What am I saying? Es peor. It is worse. Hay que ser fuerte, ésa es la única verdad. One has to be strong — that is the only truth. Y no tener piedad. And to have no pity. Y aunque uno se sienta cansado, decirse: Estoy cansado ahora, estoy arrepentido ahora, pero no lo estaré mañana. And even if one feels tired, to tell oneself: I am tired now, I am sorry now, but I won't be tomorrow. > Subjunctive after «aunque»: «Aunque» ('even if / although') takes the subjunctive when the case is hypothetical rather than a stated fact. «Se sienta» is the present subjunctive of «sentirse» — 'even if one should feel tired' — as opposed to the indicative «se siente», which would assert it as true. Esa es la verdad. That is the truth. Mañana. Tomorrow. Erdosain cierra los ojos. Erdosain closes his eyes. > Definite article for body parts: Spanish uses the definite article, not a possessive, with body parts when the owner is clear: «cierra los ojos» = 'he closes his eyes', literally 'closes the eyes'. Saying «sus ojos» here would sound foreign. Un perfume que no puede discernir si es de nardo o de clavel, riega la atmósfera de un misterioso embalsamiento de fiesta. A scent he cannot tell whether it is of spikenard or of carnation sprinkles the air with a mysterious, festive perfuming. Y Erdosain piensa: And Erdosain thinks: –A pesar de todo es necesario injertar una alegría en la vida. —In spite of everything, it is necessary to graft a joy onto life. > «a pesar de»: «A pesar de» is a fixed phrase meaning 'in spite of, despite'. It builds on «pesar» (to weigh; sorrow) but functions as a single preposition: «a pesar de todo» = 'in spite of everything'. No se puede vivir así. One cannot live like this. > Impersonal «se»: «Se puede» with no named subject means 'one can / it is possible to'. The «se» makes the statement impersonal and general: «no se puede vivir así» = 'one cannot live this way'. This is the most common way Spanish says 'you can('t)' about people in general. No hay derecho. It isn't right. > «no hay derecho»: An idiom of protest: «no hay derecho» literally is 'there is no right', but it means 'it isn't right, it's not fair'. A colloquial cry against injustice — keep it idiomatic, not literal. Por encima de toda nuestra miseria es necesario que flote una alegría, qué sé yo, algo más hermoso que el feo rostro humano, que la horrible verdad humana. Above all our misery a joy must float, I don't know, something more beautiful than the ugly human face, than the horrible human truth. > Subjunctive after impersonal expressions: Impersonal expressions of necessity like «es necesario que» trigger the subjunctive in the clause that follows. «Flote» is the present subjunctive of «flotar» — 'it is necessary that a joy float'. The need is willed, not yet a fact, so Spanish reaches for the subjunctive. Tiene razón el Astrólogo. The Astrologer is right. > «tener razón»: «Tener razón» = 'to be right' (literally 'to have reason'). Spanish forms many states with «tener» + noun where English uses 'to be' + adjective: «tener hambre» (to be hungry), «tener razón» (to be right). The Astrologer is one of the novel's central conspirators. Hay que inaugurar el imperio de la Mentira, de las magníficas mentiras. One must inaugurate the empire of the Lie, of magnificent lies. ¿Adorar a alguien? To worship someone? > The personal «a»: When the direct object of a verb is a specific person, Spanish inserts «a» before it: «adorar a alguien» = 'to worship someone'. This 'personal a' has no English equivalent — it simply flags a human object. ¿Hacerse un camino entre este bosque de estupidez? To make a way for oneself through this forest of stupidity? ¿Pero cómo? But how? Erdosain continúa su soliloquio con los pómulos teñidos de rosa: Erdosain continues his soliloquy, his cheekbones tinged with pink: –¿Qué importa que yo sea un asesino o un degradado? —What does it matter whether I am a murderer or a degraded man? > Subjunctive after «importa que»: «Importar que» ('to matter that') is an expression of emotional reaction, and such verbs take the subjunctive in the clause that follows. «Sea» is the present subjunctive of «ser» — '…that I be a murderer'. The subject pronoun «yo» is added for emphasis. ¿Importa eso? Does that matter? No. No. Es secundario. It is secondary. Hay algo más hermoso que la vileza de todos los hombres juntos, y es la alegría. There is something more beautiful than the vileness of all men together, and it is joy. Si yo estuviera alegre, la felicidad me absolvería de mi crimen. If I were happy, happiness would absolve me of my crime. > The unreal conditional: A contrary-to-fact condition pairs the past subjunctive in the «si» clause with the conditional in the main clause: «si estuviera… absolvería» = 'if I were… it would absolve'. «Estuviera» is the imperfect subjunctive of «estar»; «absolvería» is the conditional of «absolver». Erdosain is imagining a happiness he does not have. La alegría es lo esencial. Joy is the essential thing. > «lo» + adjective: «Lo» before an adjective makes an abstract noun: «lo esencial» = 'the essential thing / what is essential'. Spanish uses this neuter «lo» to talk about a quality in the abstract, with no specific noun behind it. Y también querer a alguien... And also to love someone... > «querer» = to love: «Querer» means 'to want', but with the personal «a» before a person it means 'to love': «querer a alguien» = 'to love someone'. It is the warm, everyday word for loving people, lighter than «amar». The trailing «...» leaves the thought unfinished. El cielo verdea a lo lejos, mientras que la poca elevada oscuridad envuelve aún los troncos de los árboles. The sky turns green in the distance, while the low-lying darkness still wraps the trunks of the trees. Erdosain frunce el ceño. Erdosain frowns. > «fruncir el ceño»: «Fruncir el ceño» is the set phrase 'to knit one's brow, to frown'. «El ceño» denotes the furrowed brow — the grimace of displeasure produced by drawing the eyebrows together. The space between the eyebrows is «el entrecejo»; both appear in the phrase «fruncir el ceño / fruncir el entrecejo». Note also the definite article «el» for a body part. De su espíritu se desprenden vapores de recuerdo, neblinas doradas, rieles brillantes que se pierden en el campo de una tarde abovedada de sol. From his spirit there rise vapors of memory, golden mists, gleaming rails that lose themselves in the field of an afternoon vaulted with sun. Y el rostro de la criatura, una carita pálida, de ojos verdosos y rulos negros, escapando debajo de un sombrerito de paño, se eleva de la superficie de su espíritu. And the face of the girl, a pale little face, with greenish eyes and black curls escaping from under a little cloth hat, rises from the surface of his spirit. > Diminutives «-ita / -ito»: The endings «-ito/-ita» form diminutives. They can mean literally 'small' — «carita» (little face), «sombrerito» (little hat) — but they also carry tenderness. Here they soften the remembered girl with affection. «Rulos» is the River Plate word for 'curls'. Hace dos años. Two years ago. > «hace» + time = 'ago': «Hace» plus a span of time means 'ago': «hace dos años» = 'two years ago'. It uses the third-person of «hacer» impersonally, never agreeing with the time word. Erdosain keeps correcting himself: two years, no, three. No. No. Tres. Three. Sí, tres años. Yes, three years. ¿Cómo se llamaba? What was she called? > «llamarse» for names: Spanish states a name with the reflexive «llamarse» (literally 'to call oneself'): «¿cómo se llamaba?» = 'what was she called?'. The imperfect «llamaba» fits a name as an ongoing fact in the past. María, María Esther. María, María Esther. ¿Cómo se llamaba? What was she called? La dulce carita ocupa ahora con su temperatura un anochecido espacio de ensueño. The sweet little face now fills, with its warmth, a darkened space of reverie. ¡Se acuerda de tantas cosas! He remembers so many things! El estaba sentado a su lado, el viento movía sus rizos negros, de pronto extendió la mano y entre la yema de los dedos tomó la ardiente barbilla de la criatura. He was sitting at her side, the wind was stirring her black curls, and suddenly he reached out his hand and between his fingertips took the girl's burning chin. > Imperfect backdrop, preterite action: Watch the tenses switch: «estaba sentado» and «movía» (imperfect) set the ongoing scene — he was seated, the wind was blowing — while «extendió» and «tomó» (preterite) mark the single, completed gestures that break it. This is the core preterite/imperfect contrast in one sentence. ¿Dónde está ahora? Where is she now? ¿Bajo qué techo duerme? Under what roof does she sleep? ¿si la encontrara, la reconocería? if he found her, would he recognize her? > Hypothetical 'if': Another contrary-to-fact condition: imperfect subjunctive «encontrara» + conditional «reconocería» = 'if he found her, would he recognize her?'. The unreal pairing signals a meeting he doesn't expect to happen. (Arlt's lowercase «si» here is kept verbatim.) Hace tres años. Three years ago. La conoció en un tren, conversó algunos minutos con ella durante quince días, y después desapareció. He met her on a train, talked with her for a few minutes over fifteen days, and then he disappeared. > «conocer» in the preterite: In the preterite, «conocer» means not 'knew' but 'met (for the first time)': «la conoció en un tren» = 'he met her on a train'. A handful of verbs shift meaning between tenses this way — «saber» preterite = 'found out', «querer» preterite = 'tried'. Eso es todo y nada más. That is all and nothing more. Y ella no sabía que estaba casado. And she didn't know that he was married. ¿Qué es lo que hubiera dicho de saberlo? What would she have said had she known it? > «de» + infinitive as a condition: «De» before an infinitive can express a condition: «de saberlo» = 'if she had known it / had she known it'. It is a compact substitute for a whole «si» clause. «Hubiera dicho» is the past perfect subjunctive — 'would have said'. Sí, ahora se acuerda. Yes, now he remembers. Se llamaba María. She was called María. ¿Pero importa algo eso? But does that matter at all? No. No. Había algo más hermoso en todo aquello, la dulce fiebre que caía de sus ojos a momentos verdes y a momentos pardos. There was something more beautiful in all that, the sweet fever that fell from her eyes, at moments green and at moments brown. > «había» = 'there was': «Había» is the imperfect of «haber» used impersonally for 'there was / there were'. Like «hay» in the present, it never agrees with what follows — «había algo» (there was something), «había cosas» (there were things). Y su silencio. And her silence. Erdosain recuerda viajes en ferrocarril; está sentado junto a la criatura que ha dejado caer la cabeza sobre su hombro, él enreda los dedos en los rizos y la criatura de quince años tiembla en silencio. Erdosain remembers railway journeys; he is sitting beside the girl who has let her head drop onto his shoulder, he tangles his fingers in her curls, and the fifteen-year-old girl trembles in silence. > «dejar caer» = to let fall: «Dejar» plus an infinitive means 'to let / allow (something to happen)': «dejar caer la cabeza» = 'to let one's head drop'. Here it sits in the present perfect, «ha dejado caer» — 'has let drop' — folding the memory into the present-tense narration. Si ella supiera ahora que él proyecta matar a un hombre, ¿qué diría? If she knew now that he plans to kill a man, what would she say? > Imperfect subjunctive + conditional: «Supiera» is the imperfect subjunctive of «saber»; «diría» is the conditional of «decir». The pair builds the unreal 'if she knew… what would she say?'. This is the chapter's first explicit naming of the murder Erdosain is planning. Posiblemente no entendiera esa palabra. She probably wouldn't understand that word. Y Erdosain recuerda con qué timidez de colegiala levantaba el brazo y apoyaba la mano en sus mejillas ríspidas de barba; y quizá esa felicidad que es la que él perdió es la que se necesita para borrar del semblante humano tanto vestigio de fealdad. And Erdosain remembers with what schoolgirl shyness she would raise her arm and rest her hand on his cheeks rough with stubble; and perhaps that happiness, the one he lost, is the very one needed to wipe so much trace of ugliness from the human face. > Imperfect for repeated gestures: «Levantaba» and «apoyaba» (imperfect) describe habitual, repeated motions in the past — 'she would raise… and rest…' — the gestures she made again and again. The imperfect is Spanish's tense for 'used to / would' habits. Erdosain se examina ahora con curiosidad. Erdosain now examines himself with curiosity. ¿Por qué piensa tantas cosas? Why does he think so many things? ¿Con qué derecho? By what right? ¿Desde cuándo los candidatos a asesinos piensan? Since when do candidates for murderers think? > «¿desde cuándo?»: «¿Desde cuándo?» literally asks 'since when?', and like its English twin it often carries a sting of irony — 'since when do murderers-to-be sit around thinking?'. «Candidatos a asesinos» uses «a» to mean 'candidates for'. Y sin embargo, hay algo en él que le da las gracias al Universo. And yet, there is something in him that gives thanks to the Universe. > «dar las gracias»: «Dar las gracias (a alguien)» is the set phrase 'to thank (someone)' — literally 'to give the thanks'. The «le… al Universo» doubles the indirect object, a normal Spanish redundancy that pins down who is being thanked. ¿Consiste en humildad o en amor? Does it consist of humility or of love? No lo sabe, pero comprende que en la incoherencia hay dulzura, se le ocurre que una pobre alma al enloquecer abandona con gratitud los sufrimientos de esta tierra. He doesn't know, but he understands that in incoherence there is sweetness; it occurs to him that a poor soul, on going mad, gratefully abandons the sufferings of this earth. > «al» + infinitive = 'upon doing': «Al» followed by an infinitive means 'upon / on (doing something)': «al enloquecer» = 'on going mad'. It compresses a clause of time into two words — the same construction that opens the novel's first chapter, «al abrir la puerta». Y más abajo de esta piedad, una fuerza implacable, casi irónica, le tuerce el labio con un mohín de desprecio. And below this pity, an implacable, almost ironic force twists his lip with a grimace of contempt. Los dioses existen. The gods exist. Viven escondidos bajo la envoltura de ciertos hombres que se acuerdan de la vida en el planeta cuando aún la tierra era niña. They live hidden under the covering of certain men who remember life on the planet when the earth was still a child. > Adjective from a past participle: «Escondidos» is the past participle of «esconder» used as an adjective and made to agree in number and gender — 'hidden (men)'. Paired with «vivir», it describes a state: «viven escondidos» = 'they live hidden / in hiding'. El encierra también a un dios. He too encloses a god. ¿Es posible? Is it possible? Se toca la nariz, adolorida por las trompadas que recibió de Barsut, y la fuerza implacable insiste en esa afirmación: El lleva un dios escondido bajo su piel doliente. He touches his nose, sore from the punches he took from Barsut, and the implacable force insists on that affirmation: He carries a god hidden under his aching skin. > «trompada»: «Trompada» is colloquial River Plate Spanish for a punch or blow with the fist (Spain would say «puñetazo»). Barsut is Erdosain's antagonist; the bruised nose ties this dawn reverie to the violence of the night before. ¿Pero el Código Penal ha previsto qué castigo puede aplicarse a un dios homicida? But has the Penal Code foreseen what punishment can be applied to a homicidal god? > Passive «se»: «Aplicarse» here is the passive «se»: «qué castigo puede aplicarse» = 'what punishment can be applied'. Spanish often uses «se» plus a verb instead of a full passive when the agent is unimportant. ¿Qué diría el Juez de Instrucción si él le contestara: «Peco porque llevo un dios en mí»? What would the examining magistrate say if he answered him: "I sin because I carry a god in me"? ¿Mas no es cierto? But isn't it true? > «mas» without an accent: «Mas» (no accent) is a literary conjunction meaning 'but', equivalent to «pero». Do not confuse it with «más» (with accent), which means 'more'. The unaccented form is archaic and bookish — Arlt reaches for it to raise the register. Este amor, esta fuerza que él conduce en el amanecer, bajo la humedad de los árboles que gotean rocío en la oscuridad, ¿no es una virtud de los dioses? This love, this force he carries through the dawn, beneath the dampness of the trees that drip dew in the darkness, is it not a virtue of the gods? Y nuevamente de la superficie de su espíritu se desprende el relieve de aquel recuerdo: Una ovalada carita pálida que tenía los ojos verdosos y rulos negros a veces arrollados a la garganta por el viento. And again from the surface of his spirit rises the relief of that memory: An oval pale little face that had greenish eyes and black curls sometimes blown against her throat by the wind. ¡Qué sencillo es esto! How simple this is! > Exclamatory «¡qué…!»: «¡Qué + adjective!» forms an exclamation of degree: «¡qué sencillo!» = 'how simple!'. Spanish frames such outbursts with paired marks, opening «¡» and closing «!». No necesita decir nada, tan perfecto es su arrobamiento. He needs to say nothing, so perfect is his rapture. Aunque nada de improbable tendría que se hubiera vuelto loco pensando en la colegiala bajo los árboles que gotean humedad. Though there would be nothing improbable in his having gone mad thinking of the schoolgirl beneath the trees that drip dampness. > «volverse loco»: «Volverse loco» = 'to go mad'. The pronominal «volverse» marks an involuntary change of state, unlike «hacerse» (a willed change). «Hubiera vuelto» is the past perfect subjunctive, required after the hypothetical «tendría que…». Si no, ¿cómo se explica que su alma sea tan distinta a la que lo endemoniaba por la noche? If not, how is it explained that his soul is so different from the one that possessed him in the night? > Subjunctive after «explicarse que»: «Explicarse que» here introduces something doubted or wondered at, so the verb that follows goes subjunctive: «sea» (present subjunctive of «ser»). «Endemoniaba» is the imperfect of «endemoniar», 'to possess like a demon'. ¿O es que en la noche sólo pueden concebirse pensamientos sombríos? Or is it that at night only dark thoughts can be conceived? > «¿es que…?»: «¿Es que…?» opens a question that probes for an explanation — 'is it (perhaps) that…?'. It softens the question into musing. «Pueden concebirse» is again the passive «se»: 'can be conceived'. Aunque así sea no importa. Even if it is so, it does not matter. > Concessive subjunctive: «Aunque así sea» = 'even if it be so / even so'. «Aunque» with the subjunctive «sea» concedes a hypothetical point. The fixed phrase «así sea» also survives as 'so be it / amen'. El es otro ahora. He is another man now. Sonríe junto a los árboles. He smiles beside the trees. ¿No es magníficamente idiota esto? Isn't this magnificently idiotic? El Rufián Melancólico, la Ciega depravada, Ergueta con el mito de Cristo, el Astrólogo, todos estos fantasmas incomprensibles, que dicen palabras humanas, que tienen una palabra carnal, ¿qué son junto a él que apoyado en un poste, junto a un cerco de ligustro, siente el avance de la vida que llega a tocarle el pecho? The Melancholy Pimp, the depraved Blind Woman, Ergueta with his myth of Christ, the Astrologer, all these incomprehensible phantoms, who speak human words, who have a fleshly word, what are they beside him who, leaning on a post, beside a privet hedge, feels the advance of life that comes to touch his chest? Es otro hombre, y por el solo hecho de haber pensado en la criatura que en un vagón de tren dejaba caer la cabeza sobre su hombro. He is another man, and by the mere fact of having thought of the girl who, in a train car, would let her head drop onto his shoulder. > The perfect infinitive: «Haber» plus a past participle forms the perfect infinitive: «haber pensado» = 'to have thought / having thought'. After «por el solo hecho de» it means 'by the mere fact of having thought'. It names a completed action as a cause. Erdosain cierra los ojos. Erdosain closes his eyes. El acre olor de la tierra le escalofría. The acrid smell of the earth sends a shiver through him. Un vértigo sube de su carne cansada. A vertigo rises from his tired flesh. Otro hombre avanza por el camino. Another man comes up the road. Un silbato bronco llega desde la estación. A hoarse whistle reaches him from the station. Otros hombres de gorra o sombrero torcido cruzan a la distancia. Other men in caps or crooked hats cross in the distance. En realidad, ¿qué diablos hace allí? In truth, what the devil is he doing there? > «qué diablos»: «¿Qué diablos…?» is the colloquial intensifier 'what the devil / what on earth…?'. Spanish slots «diablos», «demonios» or «narices» into a question for exasperation, just as English uses 'the hell / the devil'. Erdosain guiña un párpado, tiene conciencia de que le está haciendo trampa a Dios, de que representa la comedia de un hombre que no ha podido desviar la maldición de Dios. Erdosain winks one eyelid; he is aware that he is cheating God, that he is playing the comedy of a man who has not managed to turn aside God's curse. > «hacer trampa»: «Hacer trampa» means 'to cheat, to play foul' (as in a game): «le está haciendo trampa a Dios» = 'he is cheating God'. The «le… a Dios» again doubles the indirect object — standard in Spanish, redundant in English. Sin embargo, ante sus ojos pasan a momentos ráfagas de oscuridad, y una especie de embriaguez sorda se va apoderando de sus sentidos. And yet, before his eyes there pass at moments gusts of darkness, and a kind of dull drunkenness is taking hold of his senses. > «ir» + gerund: «Ir» plus a gerund describes a process unfolding gradually: «se va apoderando» = 'is gradually taking hold'. The verb «ir» ('to go') adds the sense of step-by-step progression to «apoderarse de» (to take possession of). Quisiera violar algo. He would like to violate something. > «quisiera» — the softened wish: «Quisiera» is the imperfect subjunctive of «querer» used as a polite or wistful 'I/he would like'. It softens a raw «quiero» (I want) into a longing — here, the urge to transgress. The same form gives the courteous «quisiera un café» (I'd like a coffee). Violar el sentido común. To violate common sense. Si por allí hubiera una parva le prendía fuego... If there were a haystack over there he would set fire to it... > Imperfect for the conditional: In speech, Spanish often replaces the conditional «prendería» with the imperfect «prendía» in the main clause of a hypothetical: «si hubiera una parva, le prendía fuego» = 'if there were a haystack, he'd set fire to it'. «Prender fuego (a)» = 'to set fire (to)'. Algo repugnante abotarga su rostro: son las expresiones torvas de la locura; de pronto mira un árbol, da un salto, alcanza una rama, se aferra a ella y prendiéndose con los pies al tronco, ayudándose con los codos, logra encaramarse hasta la horqueta de la acacia. Something repugnant bloats his face: these are the grim expressions of madness; suddenly he looks at a tree, gives a leap, reaches a branch, clutches at it, and gripping the trunk with his feet, helping himself with his elbows, he manages to clamber up to the fork of the acacia. > Historic present for action: Arlt narrates the whole chapter in the present tense, even for sudden bursts of action: «da un salto, alcanza una rama, se aferra». This 'historic present' keeps the reader pinned to Erdosain's immediate, feverish now rather than reporting events as past. Le resbalan los zapatos en la corteza lustrosa, los ramojos le fustigan elásticamente el rostro, alarga el brazo y se coge a una rama, asomando la cabeza por entre las hojas mojadas. His shoes slip on the glossy bark, the twigs whip his face springily, he stretches out his arm and grabs a branch, poking his head out through the wet leaves. > The 'unplanned' indirect object: Spanish frames mishaps with an indirect-object pronoun for the affected person: «le resbalan los zapatos» = literally 'the shoes slip on him', i.e. 'his shoes slip'. The «le» shows it happens to him, not by his choice. This is a gustar-type reverse-subject construction (the shoes are the grammatical subject), distinct from the se-accidental pattern of «se me cayó» (the se-accidental marks unintended events). La calle, abajo, sigue en declive hacia un archipiélago de árboles. The street, below, goes on sloping down toward an archipelago of trees. Está arriba del árbol. He is up in the tree. Ha violado el sentido común, porque sí, sin objeto, como quien asesina a un transeúnte que se le cruzó al paso, para ver si luego puede descubrirlo la policía. He has violated common sense, just because, with no purpose, like someone who murders a passerby who crossed his path, to see whether the police can later track him down. > «porque sí»: «Porque sí» is an idiom meaning 'just because, for no reason at all' — the answer a child gives when there is no reason. It captures the gratuitousness of the act: he climbed the tree for nothing, the way a stranger might be killed for nothing. Hacia el este, sobre lo verdinoso del cielo, se recortan fúnebres chimeneas; luego, montes de verdura como monstruosos rebaños de elefantes rellenan los bajos de Bánfield, y la misma tristeza está en él. Toward the east, against the greenish wash of the sky, funereal chimneys stand out in silhouette; then mounds of greenery like monstrous herds of elephants fill the lowlands of Bánfield, and the same sadness is in him. No es suficiente haber violado el sentido común para sentirse feliz. It is not enough to have violated common sense in order to feel happy. Sin embargo, hace un esfuerzo y dice en voz alta: Still, he makes an effort and says out loud: > «en voz alta»: «En voz alta» = 'aloud, out loud' (literally 'in a high/loud voice'); its opposite is «en voz baja», 'in a low voice, under one's breath'. Erdosain now turns his inner monologue into actual speech to the sleeping landscape. –¡Eh! bestias dormidas: ¡eh!, juro que... pero no... yo quiero violar la ley del sentido común, tranquilos animalitos... No. —Hey! sleeping beasts: hey!, I swear that... but no... I want to violate the law of common sense, you calm little creatures... No. > «jurar» — the unfinished oath: «Juro que…» = 'I swear that…'. Erdosain breaks off mid-oath, the trailing «...» staging a mind that cannot hold its own thought. «Animalitos» is the affectionate diminutive of «animales» — 'little creatures'. Lo que quiero es pregonar la audacia, la nueva vida. What I want is to proclaim audacity, the new life. > Cleft sentence with «lo que»: «Lo que quiero es…» = 'what I want is…'. The neuter «lo que» ('that which / what') builds a cleft sentence that throws the emphasis onto whatever follows «es» — here, proclaiming audacity. Hablo desde encima del árbol, no estoy «en la palmera», sino en la acacia: ¡eh! bestias dormidas. I am speaking from up in the tree; I am not "out on a limb", but in the acacia: hey! sleeping beasts. Rápidamente decrecen sus fuerzas. Quickly his strength drains away. Mira en redor casi extrañado de encontrarse en semejante posición, de pronto el semblante de la remota criatura estalla en él como una flor, e inmensamente avergonzado de la comedia que representa, baja de la planta. He looks around, almost startled to find himself in such a position; suddenly the face of the remote girl bursts inside him like a flower, and, immensely ashamed of the comedy he is playing, he climbs down from the tree. > «y» becomes «e»: The conjunction «y» ('and') changes to «e» before a word beginning with the «i» sound, to avoid two like vowels colliding: «e inmensamente avergonzado». The same rule turns «o» into «u» before an «o» sound. Está vencido. He is beaten. Es un desgraciado. He is a wretch. > «ser» vs. «estar»: The chapter ends on the two verbs for 'to be'. «Está vencido» uses «estar» for a resulting condition — 'he is (now) beaten'. «Es un desgraciado» uses «ser» for what he is in essence — 'he is a wretch'. Same English word 'is', two different Spanish claims about Erdosain. --- Source text: public domain (Roberto Arlt, d. 1942). English translation: © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC — original draft, pending editorial review. 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