A Catalonian man of inauspicious origins struggles to become a successful baker during politically tumultuous times in this early-20th-century epic novel based on a true story.
Martí Cardo is born and raised in Igualada, a city in Catalonia, by a family of modest means; his father, Hector, is a poor, illiterate farmer. Martí suffers from no poverty of ambition, though, and pines to emulate his older brother, Oscar, who owns a prosperous bakery business in Mexico City. After his father dies suddenly, Martí opens a bakery under the lovingly avuncular tutelage of Ceferino, his godfather. Meanwhile, Martí falls in love with Montserrat “Montse” Balaguer, a beautiful local girl, a gifted artist, and the daughter of prominent, affluent businessman Augustin. While she requites Martí’s affections, Augustin rejects their romance on the predictable grounds that the suitor is an illiterate peasant. Martí eventually wins over Augustin, and the young couple marry. But despite this triumph, the pair’s troubles have only begun. In the first third of the 20th century, Spain is immersed in domestic turbulence, and following the end of King Alfonso’s reign, the country teeters on civil war. To make matters worse, Martí’s long-standing rival for Montse’s affections, Felix Castell, the son of Igualada’s mayor, becomes a powerful officer in the army responsible for tracking down Fascists. When Felix’s lust to destroy the baker turns murderous, Martí and Montse have no choice but to flee the country and start over, hopping on a ship destined for Mexico City.
Lytle’s ambitious story is politically astute, offering many rich details. In addition, the author’s command of the historical period is impressive. While this isn’t a principally political novel—it’s a love story first and foremost—the historical context isn’t negligible, and Lytle lucidly explains the complex internecine conflicts in Spain without burdening readers or distracting them from the central narrative line. But the book is hampered by sentimentality. Consider this line describing the day of Martí and Montse’s betrothal: “Sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass windows high above them, reminding everyone of God’s love, transformed in colorful glass. The light seemed to ignite a flame of joy that lit up Montse’s face.” The tale is related by Nuria, the daughter of Martí and Montse, to well-known Spanish reporter Margarida Cardona, now an older woman. Nuria relates an old-fashioned tale, she insists, but also an unabashedly and endearingly romantic one. Unfortunately, the plot moves at an unhurried pace, unworried that readers’ patience will be tested. Yet the novel’s central problem is the writing, which can be maudlin. A romantic novel hinges on the poetry of its depictions of matters of the heart, and this work is sometimes undermined by the canned emotions of its two protagonists. Martí’s letter here is an example: “Dearest Montse, When I see you, I always feel like Heaven is smiling on me. Now that I am home, I never want us to be apart. I do not think I could bear leaving you again. You give me strength and make me happy beyond words. I hope this day and every day of your life I can give you great joy. I love you.”
An intriguing but slow-paced love story.