East of Eden – John Steinbeck

Todos venimos de una familia. Es la convivencia con esta o la falta de la misma lo que parece definir casi todo lo que somos. La realidad es que lo que somos lo traemos adentro.

Para recibir al 2014 di una mirada al pasado: East of Eden es el primer libro que leí en lengua inglesa en mis años universitarios. Es el único libro que he leído de Jonh Steinbeck y uno de los que todavía conservo amarillentos casi verdosos.

East of Eden es la historia de dos familias a lo largo de tres generaciones, algo que a muchos de nosotros también nos ha tocado vivir: presenciar los ires y venires de tres generaciones en nuestras propias familias. Estas dos familias son los Hamilton y los Trask, ambas asentadas en el valle Salinas en California, Estados Unidos.

Sin agua en abundancia en sus tierras, los Hamilton viven de forma austera, sin amasar fortunas pero sin tirarse a la pobreza. Encabezados por Samuel y Liza, irlandeses de origen y cada quien a su manera de férrea pureza, los Hamilton son una familia numerosa que alberga un abanico de posibilidades para el destino de cada vástago.

Adam Trask, único sobreviviente de una familia de la costa Este del país cuya única forma de cariño era el maltrato a veces seguido de arrepentimiento, establece su residencia en uno de los mejores sectores del valle. Ha traído consigo la holgura de su herencia y la etérea, impenetrable mujer que lo ha hechizado a grado tal que él sólo ve imágenes de una familia próspera y radiante, aun cuando ella, Cathy Ames, le ha dicho con todas sus letras que habrá de irse de su lado.

Esta novela dividida en cuatro partes y 55 capítulos me atrapó en el capítulo 8, el cual está enteramente dedicado al personaje que se robó toda mi atención por el resto de la obra: Cathy Ames. De ella le regalo algunos fragmentos:

Monsters are variations from the accepted normal to a greater or less degree. As a child may be born without an arm, so one may be born without kindness or the potential of conscience. A man who loses his arms in an accident has a great struggle to adjust himself to the lack, but one born without arms suffers only from people who find him strange. Having never had arms, he cannot miss them. Sometimes when we are little we imagine how it would be to have wings, but there is no reason to suppose it is the same feeling birds have. No, to a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. To the inner monster it must be even more obscure, since he has no visible thing to compare with others. To a man born without conscience, a soul-stricken man must seem ridiculous. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster, the norm is monstrous.

It is my belief that Cathy Ames was born with the tendencies, or lack of them, which drove and forced her all of her life. Some balance wheel was mis-weighted, some gear out of ratio. She was not like other people, never was from birth. And just as a cripple may learn to utilize his lack so that he becomes more effective in a limited field than the uncrippled, so did Cathy, using her indifference, make a painful and bewildering stir in her world.

El querido y respetado Samuel Hamilton, de carácter afable y plática fácil, conoce a Cathy. Samuel no alcanza a descifrar qué le resulta anormal en Cathy. No es sino hasta después de que ella le lacera una mano mientras él la asiste en el parto de sus dos gemelos que, luego de una tremenda fiebre por la infección, Samuel decide aceptar que ella alberga maldad dentro. Aquí algunos fragmentos del escaso contacto entre ambos.

He paused, and the silence dropped. Cathy looked down at her plate while she ate a sliver of roast lamb. She looked up as she put it between her small sharp teeth. Her wide-set eyes communicated nothing. Samuel shivered.

…It was the eyes, of course, Samuel thought. Only twice in my life have I seen eyes like that – not like human eyes…

He had not looked at her closely until now. And he saw true hatred in her eyes, unforgiving, murderous hatred.

She made a great effort. And it gave him a shivering to see her face change, the steal leave her eyes, the lips thicken from line to bow, and the corners turn up. He noticed a movement of her hands, the fists unclench and the fingers turn pinkly upward. Her face became young and innocent and bravely hurt. It was like one magic-lantern slide taking the place of another.

He put his hand on her forehead where her scar showed dark and angry. “How did you get the hurt on your head?” he asked.

Her head jerked up and her sharp teeth fastened on his and across the back and up into the palm near the little finger. He cried out in pain and tried to pull his and away, but her jaw was set and her head twisted and turned, mangling his hand the way a terrier worries a sack. A shrill snarling came from her set teeth. He slapped her on the cheek and it had no effect. Automatically he did what he would have done to stop a dog fight. His left hand went to her throat and he cut off her wind. She struggled and tore at his hand before her jaws unclenched and he pulled his hand free. The flesh was torn and bleeding. He stepped back from the bed and looked at her with fear. And when he looked, her face was calm, and young and innocent.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Samuel shuddered.

“It was the pain,” she said.

Cuando la película, efectivamente, con James Dean, me llegó a las manos algunos años después, me senté a verla esperando con ansia ver a Cathy Ames. Les quedó tan desdibujada que no guardo memoria de prácticamente ninguna escena del resto de tan llevado y traído clásico del cine norteamericano. En fin, seguramente el director también tuvo sus personajes favoritos. 

Como no recuerdo cómo acaba la película, le contaré que al final de la obra literaria vemos a Adam Trask en su lecho de muerte; a su lado el hijo gemelo que aún vive, Cal, y su fiel sirviente chino Lee. Lee suplica a Adam le conceda a Caleb la gracia de su bendición y con ella su perdón por haber asesinado a su hermano gemelo Aaron.

The whole bed seemed to shake under the concentration. Adam’s breath came quick with this effort and then, slowly, his right hand lifted – lifted an inch and then fell back.

Lee’s face was haggard. He moved to the head of the bed and wiped the sick man’s damp face with the edge of the sheet. He looked down at the closed eyes. Lee whispered, “Thank you, Adam – thank you, my friend. Can you move your lips? Make your lips form his name.”

Adam looked up with sick weariness. His lips parted and failed and tried again. Then his lungs filled. He expelled the air and his lips combed the rushing sigh. His whispered word seemed to hang in the air:

 “Timshel!”

His eyes closed and he slept.

Espero que haya disfrutado su resumen, peladito y en la boca.