C’était une période de conflits sociaux violents, pendant lesquels les turques chypriotes ont laissé l’île partagée entre Aziz Eoka et l’Organisation de résistance turque. Le futur apparaissait très incertain et cette chanson a été fondante pour sa propre identité et pour garder toujours vivante la mémoire et le lien avec la terre où le peuple était né et avait vécu. Kamran a déclaré d’avoir traversé une période très difficile ; les programmes radiophoniques de l’ensemble ont été suspendus, donc elle a décidé de se consacrer à la composition d’hymnes nationaux, que au début elle a joué uniquement chez elle, mais qui par la suite ont été diffusés par Bayrak Radio. Kamran Aziz meurt en 2017, à l’âge de 95 ans. Elle a reçu deux prix à la carrière de pharmacienne, pour les 25 ans et puis pour les 61 ans d’activité, de la part de l’Association des pharmaciens, en 2005. Au niveau musical elle a reçu d’importantes récompenses et elle a gagné le Concours de musique populaire de la République Turque avec deux chansons : Je suis allée à Pinar Kim Beginning et Strait Zeybegi (1973) et le concours pour le centième anniversaire d’Ataturk, avec la composition The Most Mighty Turkish Ataturk (1981) ; elle a eu le prix pour l’activité folklorique de la Folk Art Association (1997), le prix Trnc à la carrière par le Centre d’études des femmes de l’Université de la Méditerranée Orientale (2002), le prix spécial pour la tradition musicale turque-chypriote de la part du Comité culturel de l’Assemblée Républicaine (2008).

En 2006 on a donné son nom à une section du Girne Music Education Center.

Traduzione inglese
Syd Stapleton

Kamran Aziz, composer and pharmacist, was born in Cyprus in 1922. Her father is remembered for having contributed to the eradication of malaria, her mother played the lute and was a seamstress. Her older sister was the head nurse in the hospital on the island. Kamran studied music and pharmacology at the American Academy in Nicosia, where she graduated in pharmacology in 1944, becoming one of the first female Turkish Cypriot pharmacists. Her life follows two parallel paths: her commitment as a pharmacist and her musical activity. But an episode in her biography clearly shows her to be strong-willed and curious, about herself and the possibilities of her life. The English school she attended did not approve of a woman playing hockey. When it was determined that it would not be allowed to participate in sports and study music at the same time, she chose sports. She would have liked to travel and study in London, but the events of the Second World War prevented her from going. After graduation she worked at the State Laboratory and Pharmacy, opening her own pharmacy in Victoria Street in 1945, registered and known as the “Aziz Pharmacy”. She became co-founder of the Union of Pharmacists in her country in 1959. She worked with great dedication to make access to medicines easier and, to solve the continuous supply difficulties, she inaugurated the "Güç" warehouse, where she established an agreement between the public and the private sector, that is, between the State and individual pharmacists. When Aziz Pharmacy was closed in 2001, the association of Turkish pharmacists decided to transform it into the city's Pharmacy Museum, which is still open to the public.

Music also played an important role in her life, so much so that she was among the first Turkish Cypriot women to perform in public. She began playing the piano at the age of eight. Later she studied composition and singing at the American Music Academy and later at the London School of Music. She was also one of the founders of the American Academy Alumni Association and collaborated in the realization of a recital by the Cyprus PhilarmonicSociety. She also performed in four comic operas at the Nicosia British School where she sang in the choir, including singing short solos. Her commitment to music was precious to her, both in the composition of original lyrics and music related to life on the island, but also because of her passion for the dissemination and adaptation of Western classical music into Turkish Cypriot folk music. She created a musical ensemble, Kamran Aziz ve Arkadaşları (Kamran Aziz and her friends) where she played the accordion, together with other instrumentalists: Jale Derviş on piano, Zeki Taner on saxophone and clarinet, Fikret Özgün on violin, Vecihi Turgay on violin and Ahmet Anlar on drums. The ensemble became the first Cypriot group in the interpretation and dissemination of Western music, performing for the first time on the radio, and then on television with the Cyprus Broadcasting Corporation. Radio officials had in fact proposed to all the communities of the island that they perform with their own live music. The group devoted itself to revisiting and translating operas, lieder and pop music, such as O Sole Mio, Love in Portofino, and Tombe la neige (The Snow Falls). Starting in the 1950s Kamran concentrated on composition, without folkloric intentions, but nevertheless her songs became popular in Cypriot tradition, as did her adaptations of laments, Turkish tangos, waltzes and marches. Her original compositions were also dedicated to daily life, and often performed in schools. One such song is about of Mustafa Aynali who, in Nicosia, sold candies and chickpeas from a basket while telling stories from ancient times. In 1995 she wrote a song dedicated to the most devastating environmental disaster on the island, a fire which exploded in the forest of the Besparmak mountains. The song was entitled “We Will Green the Kyrenia Mountains”. She composed a total of some 70 songs, which represent a recognized cultural asset in Cypriot folk music. The first collection of her music, with 39 compositions, was released in 1994. Among the best known: Kıbrıs'ım, Kıbrıs'ım Sana Ne Oldu, Kıbrıs Zeybeği, Al Yemeni Mor Yemeni, Seni Orakta Gördüm, Gelin Geliyor Gelin and Orak Zamanı Geldi. In 1958 she wrote the song “Cyprus,” in which she paid homage to her country. Included in the song were the lines, "Cyprus is an island / It's a piece of paradise."

It was a time of violent social conflict, during which Cypriots were divided between the Greek Eoka-B and the Turkish Resistance Organization. The future seemed very uncertain, and this song was fundamentally aimed at reinforcing Cypriot identity, reminding people of their bonds with the land where they were born, lived and died. Kamran went through a very difficult period. The radio programs of the ensemble were suspended. She therefore decided to devote herself to the composition of national anthems, which she initially performed only at home, but were later broadcast by Bayrak Radio. Kamran Aziz died in 2017 at the age of 95. She received two career awards as a pharmacist from the Pharmacists' Association, for her 25th year as a pharmacist, and then for her 61st anniversary, in 2005. In the musical field she was given important awards, and won the popular music competition of the Turkish Republic with two songs, “I Went to Pinar Kim” and “Beginning and Strait Zeybegi” (1973). Later, for a competition for the centenary of Ataturk, she won with the composition “The Most Mighty Turkish Ataturk” (1981). She received the Folk Art Association award for folkloric activity (1997), the TRNC career award from the University of the Eastern Mediterranean Women's Study Center (2002), and the special award for Turkish-Cypriot musical traditions by the Cultural Committee of the Republican Assembly (2008).

In 2006 a department of the Girne Music Education Center was established in her name.

Benché il matrimonio sia fonte di felicità per entrambi i coniugi, Robert ha un atteggiamento decisamente ambivalente verso la carriera da virtuosa del piano della talentuosa Clara. Da un lato ne riconosce gli straordinari risultati e collabora costantemente con lei, ma, al tempo stesso, mal sopporta che lei sia più famosa di lui e, oltretutto, che quanto la moglie guadagna con le sue esibizioni superi notevolmente le proprie entrate. Nel corso degli anni Robert inizia a soffrire di amnesie e momenti di completa mancanza di lucidità, tanto da essere ripetutamente licenziato e gradualmente incapace di comporre. Per stargli vicina e prendersi cura di lui e della loro numerosa prole, Clara è costretta a ridurre gli impegni di concertista. L’instabilità mentale e il disagio di Robert culminano in un tentativo di suicidio nel 1854, cui segue l’internamento nel manicomio di Endenich, a Bonn, fino alla morte, nel 1856. Nel 1854 Clara riprende a esibirsi a tempo pieno, conseguendo costantemente grande successo e continuando a essere per il resto della sua vita una delle più importanti pianiste a livello mondiale, tanto da venir definita una sacerdotessa della musica. Proprio nel 1854 la musicista, nel pieno della sua libertà artistica e priva delle imposizioni paterne che all’inizio della carriera hanno pesantemente condizionato anche la scelta degli autori da eseguire, cambia il proprio repertorio. Schumann, Beethoven, Mendelssohn e Chopin predominano largamente in tutti i suoi concerti, seguiti a una certa distanza da Schubert, Bach e Brahms. Clara Wieck, inoltre, è tra le prime interpreti a esibirsi suonando a memoria, senza partitura, prima che questa modalità esecutiva si diffonda e si consolidi in abitudine. Dopo la morte del marito, l’attivissima vedova si dedica a conservare, curare e promuovere le sue opere, difendendole dalle critiche negative, e pertanto a lei dobbiamo la conoscenza completa e ordinata di tutta la musica composta da Schumann. Sostiene inoltre la carriera dell’allievo da lui prediletto, Johannes Bramhs, con il quale intreccia un’amicizia profonda e duratura. Fra le prime a ideare metodi d’insegnamento dello strumento adottati ancora oggi, dal 1878 al 1892 Clara, pur non interrompendo la sua carriera di virtuosa, insegna piano al conservatorio di Francoforte, unica donna in una scuola esclusivamente maschile. Sempre a Francoforte, nel 1891, tiene il suo ultimo concerto e, nel 1896, muore in seguito a un ictus, dopo aver sofferto negli ultimi anni di frequenti e intensi dolori fisici, a causa dell’eccessivo esercizio al pianoforte.

Traduzione francese
Joelle Rampacci

Le bicentenaire de la naissance de Clara Wieck a été célébré en 2019 avec un certain relief, revalorisant, quoique tardivement, l'œuvre de l'une des musiciennes allemandes les plus importantes du XIXe siècle, longtemps éclipsée par son encombrant époux, Robert Schumann. Clara est née à Leipzig en 1819 dans une famille de musiciens; son père, Friedrich Wieck, est professeur de piano et propriétaire d'une fabrique de pianos, sa mère, Marianne Tromlitz, est pianiste et chanteuse, son grand-père, Johann Georg Tromlitz, était un compositeur bien connu au XVIIIe siècle, et son beau-père aussi, le demi-frère et la demi-sœur sont musiciens. Quand elle a cinq ans, ses parents divorcent et l'enfant est confiée à son père, qui reconnaît ses talents musicaux extraordinaires et décide d'en faire une virtuose du piano, même si à l'époque les femmes avaient encore peu de chances de poursuivre une carrière comme instrumentiste, les musiciennes les plus importantes étaient des chanteuses d'opéra. Friedrich commence aussitôt à lui donner des cours, en suivant les méthodes de Pestalozzi et Rousseau et combinant études et activités de plein air, pour rendre son apprentissage constant et efficace. Grâce à une formation très dure, ce père fier et pédagogue au caractère despotique mais capable fait de Clara une enfant prodige, douée d'une technique extraordinaire et impeccable, qui devient en quelques années l'une des artistes de concert les plus acclamées et les plus estimées d'Europe. Comme le père de Mozart, Friedrich s'occupe également de promouvoir la carrière de sa fille, s'occupant personnellement de ses concerts et de ses tournées. Clara donne son premier concert au Gewandhaus de Leipzig en 1830; en 1831, elle se produit à Weimar, Arnstadt, Kassel, Francfort et même à Paris, suscitant l'admiration de grands maîtres tels que Lizst, Chopin, Berlioz et Paganini; en 1838, à Vienne, l'empereur Ferdinand Ier lui décerne le prestigieux honneur de Königliche und Kaiserliche Kammervirtuosin (virtuose de chambre du roi et de l'empereur) et en 1839, elle retourne une seconde fois à Paris. Sa carrière de concertiste est extraordinaire: en 1891, soixante ans après sa première représentation, Clara Wieck a donné plus de 1300 concerts à travers l'Europe - en particulier en Angleterre entre 1856 et 1888 - comme le montre une collection de programmes et de prospectus, commencée par son père et continuée par la virtuose elle-même. Et elle tient énormément à sa carriere artistique; en 1868, elle dit à son ami Johannes Brahms: «La pratique artistique est une grande partie de mon esprit, pour moi c'est comme l'air que je respire. Je préfère souffrir de la faim plutôt que jouer en public avec seulement la moitié de mes forces». (Die Ausübung der Kunst ist ja ein großer Teil meines Ichs, es ist mir die Luft, in der ich atme. Hingegen wollt’ich lieber hungern, als mit halber Kraft öffentlich wirken).

La petite Clara rencontre Robert Schumann, il a dix-sept ans lorsque le jeune homme s’installe chez les Wieck pour prendre des cours de piano avec Friedrich; elle n'a que neuf ans, mais les deux nouent une amitié, qui, plus tard, devient un lien sentimental. Le père, envieux du grand talent de l'élève, s'oppose de toute les manières à cette relation: pendant de longues périodes, il empêche aux deux amoureux de se rencontrer, intercepte leur correspondance, tente de nuire à la réputation de Robert et même à celle de Clara et refuse de partager avec le fille l'argent que la fille a gagné en donnant des concerts. Malgré tous ces obstacles, Clara et Robert se sont mariés en 1840. Le couple a d'abord vécu à Leipzig puis à Dresde, essayant de concilier leur existence avec leurs engagements professionnels respectifs. En réalité, le pilier de la vie de famille est surtout Clara qui, entre 1841 et 1854, a donné naissance à huit enfants et les a élevés, gérant presque seule la maison, sa carrière artistique et l'activité musicale de son mari. La jeune femme constitue pour Robert agité et instable non seulement un point de référence humain et émotionnel, mais aussi musical, dialoguant avec lui sur la musique et influençant sa production à partir de 1835. Dans les années trente et quarante du dix-neuvième siècle, l’usage veut que chaque concert comprenne des exécutions de compositions écrites par l'interprète, c'est ainsi que les premières pages composées par Clara sont nées. Déjà à l'âge de quatorze ans, en 1833, la musicienne écrit la Romance variée op. 3, auquel Schumann répond par l'Improptus op.5, reprenant le thème créé par Clara. En effet, son activité de compositrice est également importante, elle a débuté très jeune avec Quatre Polonaises op.1, publiées lorsque l'auteur a dix ans. Clara Wieck écrit généralement des variations originales sur des thèmes célèbres, qui dénotent son créativité et sa capacité à rivaliser avec les morceaux sur lesquels elle travaille. Parmi ses œuvres moins connues, parce qu’attribuées à tort à son mari, il y a trois recueils de Lieder, un genre typique du romantisme allemand, dans lequel le piano et la voix interprètent généralement les vers des plus grands poètes de l’époque. Les sujets abordés sont d’un romantisme pur: description et exaltation de paysages naturels et de fleurs, chants à la lune, réflexions sur l'amour et descriptions de rêves. Ce genre est particulièrement adapté à Clara car il lui permet de faire appel à sa sensibilité marquée et à sa capacité à exprimer ses sentiments les plus intimes, puisant dans sa vie pour composer. Les Lieder remontent à la période entre 1830 et 1856 et sont liés à ses fréquentations de haut rang; souvent, ce sont des poèmes occasionnels pour des anniversaires, des fêtes, des événements de charité et des cadeaux.

Bien que le mariage soit une source de bonheur pour les deux époux, Robert a une attitude résolument ambivalente envers la carrière de virtuose du piano de la talentueuse Clara. D'une part, il en reconnaît les résultats extraordinaires et collabore constamment avec elle, mais, en même temps, il supporte mal qu'elle soit plus célèbre que lui et, de plus, que ce que sa femme gagne avec ses performances dépasse largement ses revenus. Au fil des années, Robert commence à souffrir d'amnésie et de moments de manque total de clarté, à tel point qu'il est licencié à plusieurs reprises et progressivement incapable de composer. Pour rester proche de lui et prendre soin de lui et de leurs nombreux descendants, Clara est obligée de réduire ses horaires de concerts. L'instabilité mentale et la détresse de Robert ont abouti à une tentative de suicide en 1854, qui a été suivie par l'internement à l'asile Endenich à Bonn, jusqu'à sa mort en 1856. En 1854, Clara a repris les exhibitions à plein temps, obtenant constamment un grand succès et continuant d'être pour le reste de sa vie l'une des pianistes les plus importantes du monde, à tel point qu'elle a été appelée prêtresse de la musique. C'est en 1854 que la musicienne, au plus fort de sa liberté artistique et privée des impositions paternelles qui ont fortement influencé le choix des auteurs à interpréter au début de sa carrière, change de répertoire. Schumann, Beethoven, Mendelssohn et Chopin prédominent largement dans tous ses concertos, suivis de loin par Schubert, Bach et Brahms. De plus, Clara Wieck est parmi les premières interprètes à se produire en jouant par cœur, sans partition, avant que ce mode de performance ne se propage et ne devienne habituel. Après la mort de son mari, la veuve très active s'est consacrée à la préservation, à l'entretien et à la promotion de ses œuvres, à les défendre contre les critiques négatives, et nous lui devons donc la connaissance complète et ordonnée de toute la musique composée par Schumann. Elle soutient également la carrière de son élève préféré, Johannes Bramhs, avec qui elle noue une amitié profonde et durable. Parmi les premières à inventer des méthodes d'enseignement de l'instrument encore adoptées aujourd'hui, de 1878 à 1892 Clara, sans interrompre sa carrière de virtuose, enseigne le piano au Conservatoire de Francfort, seule femme dans une école exclusivement masculine. Toujours à Francfort, en 1891, elle donne son dernier concert et, en 1896, meurt des suites d'un accident vasculaire cérébral, après avoir souffert les dernières années de douleurs physiques fréquentes et intenses dues à un exercice excessif au piano.

 

Traduzione inglese
Syd Stapleton

The bicentenary of Clara Wieck's birth was celebrated in 2019 with some ceremony, revaluing, albeit belatedly, the work of one of the most important German musicians of the nineteenth century, long overshadowed by her famous husband, Robert Schumann. Clara was born in Leipzig in 1819 into a family of musicians. Her father, Friedrich Wieck, was a piano teacher and the owner of a piano factory. Her mother, Marianne Tromlitz, was a pianist and singer, and her grandfather, Johann Georg Tromlitz, was a well-known composer in the eighteenth century. Her stepfather, half-brother and half-sister were also musicians. When she was five years old, her parents divorced and she was entrusted to her father, who recognized her extraordinary musical skills and decided to make her a piano virtuoso, although at the time women still had little chance of pursuing a career as an instrumentalist. The most important women in music were opera singers. Friedrich immediately began to give her lessons, following the methods of Pestalozzi and Rousseau, combining study and outdoor activities to make her learning engaging and effective. By way of a very difficult apprenticeship, this proud father, a despotic but capable pedagogue, made Clara into a child prodigy, gifted with an extraordinary and impeccable technique. Within a few years she became one of the most acclaimed and highly regarded concert artists in Europe. Like Mozart's father, Friedrich also took on the promotion of his daughter's career, personally organizing her concerts and tours. Clara gave her first concert at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig in 1830. In 1831, at only 12 years of age, she performed in Weimar, Arnstadt, Kassel, Frankfurt and even in Paris, arousing the admiration of great masters such as Lizst, Chopin, Berlioz and Paganini. in 1838, in Vienna, Emperor Ferdinand I bestowed on her the prestigious honor, Königliche und Kaiserliche Kammervirtuosin (chamber virtuoso of the king and emperor). In 1839 she returned to Paris for a second time. Her concert career was extraordinary. By 1891, sixty years after her first performance, Clara Wieck had given more than 1,300 concerts throughout Europe - especially in England between 1856 and 1888 - as documented by a collection of programs and flyers, begun by her father and continued by the virtuoso herself. Clara was utterly devoted to this career. In 1868 she told her friend Johannes Brahms: "The practice of my art is a big part of my spirit, for me it is like the air I breathe. I'd rather go hungry than play in public with only half my strength." (Die Ausübung der Kunst ist ja ein groβer Teil meines Ichs, es ist mir die Luft, in der ich atme. Hingegen wollt’ich lieber hungern, als mit halber Kraft öffentlich wirken).

Young Clara met the seventeen-year-old Robert Schumann when the young man moved to the Wieck home to take piano lessons from Friedrich. She was just nine years old, but the two established a friendship which then became a sentimental bond. The father, envious of the great talent of his pupil, opposed this relationship in every way he could. For a long time he prevented the two lovers from meeting, intercepted their correspondence, and tried to damage Robert's reputation and even that of Clara. He also refused to share with his daughter the money that the girl earned by giving concerts. Despite all these obstacles, Clara and Robert married in 1840. The couple lived first in Leipzig and then in Dresden, trying to reconcile their existence with their respective work commitments. In reality, the pivot of family life was precisely Clara who, between 1841 and 1854, gave birth to eight children and raised them, managing the house, her artistic career and her husband's musical activity almost alone. The young woman constituted, for the restless and unstable Robert, not only a human and emotional point of reference, but also a musical one, engaging in musical dialogue with him, influencing his work from 1835 onwards. In the 1830s and 1840s, it was customary for concerts to include performances of compositions written by the performer, thus the first pages composed by Clara were born. Already at the age of fourteen, in 1833, she wrote the Romance Variée op. 3, to which Schumann replied with the Improptus op. 5, taking up the theme created by Clara. Already, her activity as a composer had been important. It began at an early age with Quatre Polonaises op. 1, published when the author, Clara, was only ten years old. Clara Wieck often wrote original variations based on famous themes, which demonstrated her flair and her ability to stand up to comparison with the works she drew upon. Among her largely unknown works, because they were erroneously attributed to her husband, there are three collections of Lieder, a popular genre of German Romanticism, in which piano and voice usually interpreted lyrics by the greatest poets of the time. The topics covered are exquisitely romantic -descriptions and exaltation of natural landscapes and flowers, songs to the moon, reflections on love and descriptions of dreams. This genre was particularly suited to Clara, as it allowed her to take advantage of her marked sensitivity and her ability to express her innermost feelings, drawing on her life to compose. The Lieder date back to the period between 1830 and 1856 and are linked to her high-ranking acquaintances; often they took the form of poems for birthdays, anniversaries, charity events and gifts.

Although the marriage was a source of happiness for both spouses, Robert had a decidedly ambivalent attitude towards the piano virtuoso career of the talented Clara. On the one hand, he recognized her extraordinary achievements and constantly collaborated with her. At the same time, he resented the fact that she was more famous than him and, moreover, that what she earned with her performances considerably exceeded his own income. Over the years Robert began to suffer from amnesia, and had moments of serious confusion, so much so that he was repeatedly fired and gradually became unable to compose. To stay close to him and take care of him and their numerous offspring, Clara was forced to reduce her concert schedule. Robert's mental instability and distress culminated in an attempted suicide in 1854, which was followed by his commitment in the Endenich asylum in Bonn, until his death in 1856. In 1854 Clara resumed performing full time, constantly achieving great successes and continuing for the rest of her life as one of the most important pianists in the world, so much so that she was called “a priestess of music.” In 1854 she significantly changed her repertoire, finally free of the paternal and other pressures that had heavily influenced the choice of composers she performed at the beginning of her career. Schumann, Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Chopin largely predominated in all of her concertos, followed at some distance by Schubert, Bach and Brahms. Also, Clara Wieck was among the first to perform by playing by heart, without a score, long before before this mode of performance spread and became much more common. After the death of her husband, the very active widow dedicated herself to preserving and promoting his works, defending them from criticism. Therefore, we owe to her the complete and orderly documentation of all the music composed by Schumann. She also supported the career of Schumann’s favorite student, Johannes Brahms, with whom she developed a deep and lasting friendship. From 1878 to 1892 Clara, while not interrupting her career as a virtuoso, taught piano at the Frankfurt Conservatory, the only woman in an exclusively male school. She was among the first to devise the methods for teaching the instrument that are still in use today. However, in her final years of performance, she began to suffer frequent and intense physical pain. In 1891, in Frankfurt, she held her last concert and, in 1896 she died there after suffering a stroke.

 

Carmen Burgos con i soldati spagnoli a Melilla.

Alla grande indignazione del popolo spagnolo seguì la rappresaglia durissima del governo presieduto da Maura. Due giorni dopo l’attacco le truppe militari spagnole partirono alla volta della regione marocchina. Era, di fatto, l’inizio della guerra del Riff, a cui venivano chiamati anche i riservisti. Il 27 luglio 1909, durante quella che fu ribattezzata dalla storia la “settimana tragica”, si consumò la terribile sconfitta del Barranco del Lobo. I rifeños si rifugiarono sulla vetta del Gurugú e la scelta delle truppe spagnole si rivelò un fatale massacro. Carmen de Burgos, ospite presso l’ospedale da campo allestito dalla Croce Rossa, decise così di avvicinarsi alle truppe spagnole che lottavano attorno a Melilla per vedere e capire direttamente dal fronte. Da lì le sue corrispondenze di guerra per il quotidiano "El Heraldo" di Malaga; poi, una volta tornata a Madrid, pubblicò l’articolo Guerra a la guerra, nel quale difendeva i pionieri dell’obiezione di coscienza. «Il mondo civilizzato – si leggeva nell’articolo – mette il fucile in mano all’uomo, gli dà l’ordine di uccidere, e se l’uomo lancia la pistola e rifiuta di essere un assassino, viene trattato come un criminale. Ogni uomo deve, prima di tutto, e qualunque sia il costo, rifiutare tale servitù». Qualche settimana dopo il suo rientro, l’esperienza in territorio di guerra diventa anche En la guerra, una novella che tiene dentro tutte le emozioni registrate sul campo. Carmen De Burgos aveva ascoltato e toccato le sofferenze, la paura, la violenza, era stata “dentro” la guerra, in mezzo ai soldati. E doveva raccontarlo come solo lei sapeva fare. L’esperienza marocchina, peraltro, si arricchì nell’opera En la guerra anche delle cronache della Prima guerra mondiale che Carmen ebbe modo di incontrare nel suo viaggio nei Paesi nordici: viaggio che dovette interrompere prima di arrivare in Russia proprio perché finita suo malgrado per essere sospettata di essere una spia, perquisita e fatta scendere su un treno verso la Scandinavia. Il 1909 fu anche l’anno del suo primo romanzo: Los misadaptados, genere che continuò poi a coltivare negli anni che seguirono con La rampa (1917), Gli antiquari (1919), Gli spiriti (1923), La donna fantastica (1924), Voglio vivere la mia vita (1931). Nello stesso anno Carmen veniva nominata professoressa presso la Central Normal School di Madrid, dopo aver anche frequentato il corso di Metodologia per l'insegnamento dei sordomuti e dei ciechi. Nel 1911 fu nominata professoressa alla Scuola di Arti e Mestieri di Madrid. Por Europa, pubblicato nel 1910, fu il frutto del suo lungo e appassionato viaggiare nel Vecchio Continente, ma non mancarono resoconti di viaggi in America e in Argentina. Ogni viaggio era occasione per conoscere e confrontarsi con movimenti progressisti e femministi. Mai archiviato infatti, nel frattempo, l’impegno sui temi della condizione femminile, sebbene sempre con poca affezione al concetto di femminismo. Nel 1915 nasceva una grande amicizia, che sarebbe stata destinata a durare una vita intera: quella con Ana de Castro Osorio, che personificava la battaglia per i diritti delle donne raggiunti in Portogallo e che avrebbe influenzato la nascita della crociata spagnola che avvenne nel 1921. Nel 1922, la crociata delle donne spagnole organizzò una manifestazione per consegnare tutte le loro richieste in Parlamento: l’introduzione del divorzio, la possibilità di indagine sulla paternità, uguali diritti per bambine e bambini legittimi e illegittimi, la riforma delle norme che discriminavano le donne. Nel 1921 scriveva, per la serie "Novela Corta", Articolo 438. Il codice penale approvato nel 1870, ancora vigente cinquant’anni dopo, disciplinava di fatto una sorta di delitto d’onore: il marito che uccideva la moglie colta in flagranza di adulterio era punito con il divieto di avvicinarsi al luogo da cui era bandito per circa 25 chilometri. La regola si applicava anche ai genitori che avessero trovato una figlia minorenne (quindi di età inferiore ai 23 anni) con un amante ma non valeva, invece, se a scoprire il marito infedele fosse stata la moglie. Con il suo racconto, Carmen chiedeva l’abrogazione della norma avviando una battaglia che era giuridica e culturale assieme. Nel frattempo presiedeva l'associazione crociata delle donne spagnole, guidava la prima manifestazione di protesta delle suffragette in Spagna e iniziava ad argomentare le sue idee in manifestazioni e tribune pubbliche a cui veniva invitata sempre più spesso. Nel 1923 Carmen pubblicò Malcasada (mal sposata), ambientato completamente ad Almeria e dalle cui righe trapelava autobiografica l’amarezza di una società che impediva ad una donna di sottrarsi ad un matrimonio infelice. Furono anche gli anni in cui si avvicinò al Partito socialista radicale repubblicano, dopo aver lasciato il Partito socialista spagnolo dei lavoratori in polemica con la ritrosia interna di quest’ultimo rispetto alla richiesta femminista di suffragio universale. Nella sua opera La mujer moderna y sus derechos (1927), firmata non più Colombine, tornava il tema della parità e del femminismo, che, scriveva Carmen De Burgos, rappresenterebbe «Non la lotta dei sessi, nemmeno l'inimicizia con l’uomo, ma al contrario indica che la donna intende collaborare con lui e al suo fianco». L’opera era intrisa delle esperienze di viaggio in altri Paesi, ne metteva a confronto condizione sociale e giuridica della donna. Ma al di là delle etichette, quello era il suo manifesto di impegno per le donne. «Puoi impedire alle donne di votare, ma non puoi impedire loro di pensare. Le donne sono ritenute adatte a modellare il carattere dei propri figli e ad educare intere generazioni, perché generalmente le donne si occupano della prima infanzia; e neghiamo loro il diritto primario di instillare un'istruzione e un senso di civiltà», scriveva. E ancora: «La donna è qualcosa di più della femmina, come l'uomo è qualcosa di più del maschio, dal momento in cui l'intelligenza permette loro di non ridursi al ruolo di semplici riproduttori della specie. Uno sguardo, per quanto lieve, dedicato allo studio del sesso femminile, ci mostra che la subordinazione della donna non è opera della natura». Censurato anni dopo dal governo di Franco e inserito tra le prime nove opere nell'elenco dei libri proibiti dall'Inquisizione Cattolica Nazionale, il libro fu presto definito la "bibbia del femminismo spagnolo". C’erano dentro i viaggi, gli articoli, i confronti con le tante personalità e le tante storie semplici che aveva incontrato negli ultimi anni. Non si interrompeva, intanto, la sua vena di scrittrice mandando in stampa decine di racconti, molti dei quali pubblicati a puntate su "El Cuento Semanal". Tra i più importanti verranno ricordati: Il tesoro del castello (1907), Sentieri della vita (1908), L'uomo nero (1916), Il miglior film (1918), Gli uomini d'affari della Puerta del Sol (1919), La "Misericordia" ( 1927), Quando la legge lo richiede (1932). Amica di Blasco Ibáñez, era una stretta collaboratrice della casa editrice Sempere da lui diretta e per lungo tempo scrisse, con lo pseudonimo di Gabriel Luna, per il quotidiano valenciano "El Pueblo", fondato proprio da Ibáñez. Nella sua prolifica attività di scrittrice non mancarono anche le traduzioni di opere di autori come Max Nordau, Ruskin, Renán. Carmen scriveva di tutto, per passione, per impegno civile e anche solo per arrotondare lo stipendio di insegnante, forte della sua conquistata e rivendicata indipendenza economica. Non si definì mai una femminista, così come d’altronde respinse ogni altra etichetta. Nel 1931 tutto quello per cui Carmen si era battuta vedeva la luce assieme alla Seconda Repubblica spagnola che riconobbe il matrimonio civile, il divorzio e il suffragio femminile. Fu una gioia, ma fu anche motivo per continuare di più e meglio l’assiduo impegno in diverse organizzazioni, anche a discapito della sempre più provata salute. Nel 1932, durante una conferenza sull’educazione sessuale, Carmen si accasciò a terra a seguito di un malore che la portò alla morte, nella propria abitazione, all’alba del giorno dopo. Si racconta che avrebbe proferito queste parole: «Muoio felice perché muoio nel trionfo repubblicano! Lunga vita alla Repubblica!». Di certo fu donna libera, senza pregiudizi, coraggiosa, tenace. Il suo nome rimane legato a tante battaglie, a tanta importante produzione letteraria e al mondo del giornalismo. Segno che la damnatio memoriae tentata da Franco finanche dopo la sua morte non è riuscita a scalfirla. Così si consegnò ai posteri, nella sua autobiografia: «Detesto l'ipocrisia e siccome sono indipendente, libera e non voglio essere amata per qualità che non ho, dico sempre tutto quello che sento e sento. Quindi quelli che mi amano mi amano davvero. Chi mi distoglie da dietro si toglie il cappello davanti a me. Non ho mai pensato alla crescita personale a scapito della mia libertà o alla rinuncia alle mie convinzioni».

Intitolazioni e targhe spagnole a Madrid (a sinistra e in centro) e a Guadalajara in Castiglia-La Mancha (a destra).

 

Traduzione francese
Giuliana Gaudenzi

L’odeur d’imprimerie qui monte dans les narines s’accroche fortement à l’esprit, à la mémoire des émotions. La première approche du monde de l’édition est venu, pour Carmen , des machines dont son beau-père, Gouverneur d’ Almeria, est propriétaire. Le quotidien le plus important de la capitale est imprimé dans cette grande salle. Elle a toujours respiré chez elle le journalisme et la politique : chez son père, Vice-consul du Portugal, d’abord, puis dans sa maison conjugale, non seulement dans l’imprimerie de son beau-père mais aussi avec son mari Arturo Alvarez Bustos, journaliste et poète de quinze ans plus agé qu’elle, épousé à seize ans contre l’avis de ses parents. Pour tout dire, ce mariage s’était révélé depuis le début un mauvais choix, à cause d’alcool et trahisons. Après la mort d’Arturo, l’un de leurs quatre enfants, le choix d’aller vivre à Madrid avec sa fille Maria a été le naturel passage vers l’autonomie qu’elle désirait depuis un bon moment. Carmen s’est installée provisoirement chez son vieux oncle Augustin de Burgos Canizares et a décidé de vivre avec ses propres ressources. Elle a travaillé comme institutrice, diplôme qu’elle avait pris l’an de son horrible deuil. Cela a été le premier pas vers ses futures activités d’écrivain, journaliste, biographe, rédactrice, congressiste, chroniqueuse. Elle s’est affirmée comme Colombine d’abord, avec son propre nom plus tard. Carmen de Burgos y Seguì, née le 10 décembre 1867 à Almeria de sa mère Nicosia Seguì Nieto et de son père José de Burgos Canizares, était l’ainée de dix frères et sœurs. Elle avait grandi à Rodalquilar, village à une dizaine de kilomètres, dans la commune espagnole de Nijar, province d’Almeria, dans la grande vallée du Parc Naturel de Gata, où son père possédait terres et mines. Terre fertile en stratifications de minerai et de culture, dont on trouvera trace dans ses œuvres.

Portrait de Carmen de Burgos.

Approchant de ses quarante ans, un mariage derrière elle et l’envie de recommencer, à Madrid Carmen a commencé à découvrir sa capacité de lire les faits de son temps et d’en écrire avec esprit. Quelques mois après son arrivée, en décembre 1901, elle a fait son entrée dans le monde du journalisme avec sa chronique « Notas Femeneninas » dans le journal « El Glogo ». Colombine est arrivée deux ans plus tard, en 1903 : Augusto Suàrez de Figueroa était en train de créer le « Diario Universal » et lui a proposé de collaborer au nouveau projet éditorial avec une chronique quotidienne intitulée « Lecturas para la mujer » qui, au début, devait s’occuper de mode, cuisine, art et beauté. Le directeur lui a proposé d’utiliser un pseudonyme français : Colombine. Ce travail a été pour Carmen un tournant majeur : pour la première fois en Espagne une femme est reconnue comme journaliste professionnelle. Au mois d’avril 1904 elle a participé, en tant que journaliste, à la délégation qui accompagnait Roi Alfonso XIII dans son voyage à Almeria. Carmen revenait ainsi dans sa ville conservatrice et catholique qu’elle avait du quitter après s’etre séparée de son mari. Elle a rendu visite à sa famille mais elle a visité surtout la School of Arts, l’Hospice et la Prison ; elle a publié, de retour à Madrid, deux articles qui racontaient cette expérience. Carmen a eu l’intuition et la capacité d’atteindre le cœur des femmes en passant des soins de beauté à la politique, sans - pour des raisons économiques - arreter d’écrire des recettes de cuisine. Mais elle n’a pas renoncé à son engagement pour une société meilleure. Du coup elle a écrit des articles tels que « L’épouse et le droit de vote » ou « L’inspection des usines ouvrières », clarifiant dès le début quel type de travail était le sien. « Je suis favorable à éduquer les femmes en leur fournissant tous les moyens pour travailler parce-que c’est le seul moyen pour leur donner dignité, indépendance et capacité de subvenir à leurs propres besoins. » elle a écrit. Ainsi est né son engagement pour l’obtention du divorce en Espagne. Tout avait commencé presque par hasard ; quand elle cherchait un thème à traiter dans sa rubrique « Diario Universal » elle avait lu une lettre que l’écrivain Vicente Casanova lui avait envoyé. Il lui signalait l’existence d’un « Club de matrimonios mal avenidos ». Sa curiosité s’était vite transformée en campagne de sensibilisation. Une simple réflexion dans une rubrique est devenue une véritable campagne civile qui a connu beaucoup d’obstacles. Colombine a fait appel à intellectuels, politiciens, société civile. Elle était convaincue que désormais l’Espagne devait promulguer une loi pour donner fin, meme formellement, aux mariages ratés. Elle a voulu démontrer que le divorce «convenait à la société et à la moralité » et a demandé aux autres de s’exprimer à ce sujet. Le thème a été désormais lancé . La politique était contre, mais beaucoup de monde était avec Colombine. D’importants intellectuels ont répondu à son appel, suite à son article qui ressemblait à une question claire : qui est favorable à une loi pour le divorce ? Question trop claire pour la politique qui a choisi de ne pas prendre parti. Mais les femmes et les hommes ont répondu avec conviction. Il y a eu des pour et des contre, chacun avec ses raisons personnelles ; parmi eux, beaucoup de représentants de la culture. Cette réflexion collective était trop vaste et de haut niveau pour sa revue féminine et Carmen a publié, en 1904, le livre intitulé « El divorcio en Espana », composé de deux parties : les lettres de personnages illustres la première, les lettres de lecteurs et lectrices la seconde. Elle en a déduit que son sondage a démontré que la majorité du Pays était favorable au divorce. Elle s’est demandée pourquoi les religieuses cloitrées pouvaient interrompre la cloture (« el divorcio de las monjas ») et les femmes mariées ne pouvaient pas divorcer de leur mari. Des personnalités en vue tels que Giner de los Rìos et Blasco Ibanez l’ont admirée, les ecclésiastiques et les conservateurs l’ont aprement critiquée. En 1907 le conservateur Antonio Maura, devenu Ministre de l’Instruction Publique, l’a mutée à Toledo pour l’éloigner de Madrid. En 1906 elle avait commencé à collaborer avec « El Heraldo de Madrid » où elle tenait une rubrique intitulée « El voto de la Mujier » démarrant une campagne pour le suffrage féminin. Elle écrivait «C’est vraiment absurde que des personnes incultes ont le droit de voter en tant qu’hommes et que ce droit soit nié aux femmes cultivées seulement parce-que ce sont des femmes». Et aussi les articles sur la scolarisation de la femme, sur le travail et la question de la parité de salaires entre hommes et femmes. Elle a pris position en faveur de la population sépharade (les juifs de la péninsule ibérique), contre la peine de mort et en défense de l’enfance et d’une nouvelle structuration didactique. Le monde progressiste l’invitait aux débats et aux conférences, mais les forces qui allaient prendre le pouvoir en Espagne la détestaient. Beaucoup plus tard, après sa mort, le régime franquiste a condamné à l’oubli Carmen de Burgos et ses œuvres ; beaucoup d’entre elles ont été détruites, d’après certains historiens. Pour revenir à sa vie, la mutation de l’écrivaine et enseignante, farouchement voulue par le gouvernement, ne l’a pas éloignée du vif du débat. D’ailleurs, en 1905 Carmen a décroché une bourse du Ministère de l’Instruction Publique pour analyser les systèmes d’enseignement d’autres Pays. Elle a ainsi voyagé presque un an en France, Italie, Angleterre et Monaco. Enrichie par cette expérience, elle a fondé, de retour de France, «La tertulia modernista», le cercle littéraire dont elle s’occupait meme vivant à Toledo. Chaque semaine elle rentrait à Madrid pour accueillir au cercle des écrivains, des journalistes, des artistes, des musiciens, des poètes étrangers de passage en ville. Elle a ainsi crée les conditions de la naissance de la «Revista Critica». Dans ce cercle elle a connu Ramòn Gòmez de la Serna, à l’époque étudiant inconnu de dix-huit ans, avec qui elle a eu une liaison sentimentale et épistolaire qui a duré plus de vingt ans. Un amour sincère, mais qui lui a valu des critiques pour cette liaison avec un homme beaucoup plus jeune qu’elle et aussi de la douleur et de l’amertume pour la brève liaison entre Ramòn et sa fille Maria qui avait participé à une comédie écrite par Gòmez. Cela a été un coup dur pour Carmen, qui néanmoins les a pardonnés. Quelques années plus tard, l’écrivain a décrit sa liaison avec Carmen dans son «Automoribundia» : «Elle et moi, d’un coté et de l’autre de la table étroite avons écrit et écrit et lu pendant des heures et des heures des chapitres, des chroniques, des nouvelles, des poèmes en prose». De la Serna a fait les portraits de Carmen qui ont montré sa dignité de femme et d’écrivaine. Il a rappelé ses premières années à Madrid «avec un petit chapeau triste» et «en tenant sa fille dans ses bras» à écrire, écrire, écrire, par passion mais aussi pour gagner sa vie. D’ailleurs, Carmen a été la première femme à vivre de son écriture, la première rédactrice et aussi la première journaliste femme envoyée de guerre. Le 9 juillet 1909 les rifenos des collines du Riff ont attaqué un groupe d’ouvriers espagnols qui construisaient un pont pour le chemin de fer minier à trois kilomètres environ de Melilla, ville espagnole encore aujourd’hui enclave en territoire marocain.

Carmen Burgos avec les soldats espagnols à Melilla.

Grande a été la colère du peuple espagnol, à laquelle ont suivi les représailles très dures du gouvernement de Maura. Deux jours plus tard les troupes militaires espagnoles se sont dirigées vers la région marocaine. La guerre du Riff a commencé, avec la participation des réservistes aussi. Le 27 juillet 1909, pendant la semaine qui est passée à l’histoire comme «la semaine tragique» le Barranco del Lobo a été vaincu. Les rifenos s’étaient réfugiés sur le sommet du Gurugù et le choix des troupes espagnoles s’est revélé etre un véritable carnage. Carmen de Burgos, accueillie dans l’hopital de campagne de la Croix Rouge, a décidé de s’approcher des troupes espagnoles qui combattaient à coté de Melilla pour voir et comprendre directement du front. Elle a été correspondante de guerre pour le quotidien « El Heraldo »de Malaga ; ensuite, de retour à Madrid, a publié l’article « Guerra a la guerra », dans lequel elle a pris la défense des pionniers de l’objection de conscience. On lit dans l’article « Le monde civilisé met le fusil dans la main de l’homme, lui ordonne de tuer, et si l’homme jette le pistolet et refuse d’etre un assassin, il est traité de criminel. Tout homme doit, avant tout, à n’importe quel prix, refuser cette servitude ». Quelques semaines après son retour, son expérience en territoire de guerre est devenue aussi la nouvelle «En la guerra» dans laquelle elle a décrit toutes les émotions éprouvées sur le champ. Carmen de Burgos a écouté et touché les souffrances, la peur, la violence, elle a été « dans » la guerre, parmi les soldats. Elle devait le raconter comme elle seule savait le faire. Dans le meme livre elle a aussi décrit son expérience de la première guerre mondiale, lors de son séjour dans les Pays du nord. Elle a du interrompre ce voyage avant d’arriver en Russie parce-que elle a été soupçonnée d’espionnage, fouillée et mise dans un train vers la Scandinavie. En 1909 elle a écrit son premier roman «Los misadaptados». Ce genre littéraire était le même des romans qui ont suivi : «La rampa» (1917), «Les antiquaires» (1919), «Les esprits» (1923), «La femme fantastique» (1924), « Je veux vivre ma vie» (1931). La même année Carmen a été nommée professeur à la Central Normal School de Madrid, après avoir aussi fréquenté le stage de Méthodologie pour l’enseignement des sourds-muets et des aveugles. En 1911 elle a été nommée professeur à l’Ecole des Arts et Métiers de Madrid. «Por Europa», publié en 1910, a été écrit après son long et passionné voyage dans le Vieux Continent ; elle a écrit aussi les compte-rendu de ses voyages en Amérique et Argentine. Chaque voyage était l’occasion pour connaitre et se confronter avec les mouvements progressistes et féministes. Son engagement en faveur du sujet de la condition féminine a été constant, même si elle n’a jamais beaucoup aimé le concept de féminisme. En 1915 a débuté son amitié, qui durera une vie entière, avec Ana de Castro Osorio, représentante de la bataille pour les droits des femmes obtenus au Portugal et qui aurait influencé la naissance de la croisade espagnole de 1921. En 1922, la croisade des femmes espagnoles a organisé une manifestation pour porter leurs requêtes au Parlement : l’introduction du divorce, la possibilité de faire une enquête de paternité, mêmes droits pour filles et garçons légitimes et illégitimes, la réforme des normes qui discriminaient les femmes. En 1921 elle a écrit , pour la série Novela Corta, «Article 438». Le code pénal de 1870 et encore en vigueur cinquante ans après disciplinait, de fait, une sorte de crime d’honneur : le mari qui tuait son épouse trouvée en flagrant adultère était puni avec interdiction de s’approcher du lieu où il était banni pour environ 25 kilomètres. Cette règle était appliquée aussi aux parents qui auraient trouvé leur fille mineure (moins de 23 ans) avec un amant, mais la même règle ne valait pas si l’épouse surprenait son mari infidèle. Avec cet écrit, Carmen demandait l’abrogation de cette norme, déclenchant une bataille à la fois juridique et culturelle. En même temps elle présidait l’association croisée des femmes espagnoles, elle menait la première manifestation de protestation des suffragettes en Espagne et commençait à argumenter ses idées dans des manifestations e des forums publiques dans lesquels elle était de plus en plus souvent invitée. En 1923 Carmen a publié « Malcasada » (mal mariée), se déroulant complètement à Almeria, qui laissait entrevoir l’amertume d’une société qui empêchait une femme de se soustraire à un mariage malheureux. Pendant ces années, elle s’approcha du Parti socialiste radical républicain, après avoir quitté le Parti socialiste espagnol des travailleurs, polémiquant sur sa réticence à aborder la demande féministe de suffrage universel. Dans l’œuvre «La mujer moderna y sus derechos» (1927), qu’elle a signée Carmen de Burgos, revenaient les thèmes de la parité et du féminisme qui représenteraient « Non pas la lutte des sexes, même pas l’hostilité envers les hommes, mais, au contraire, la volonté de la femme de collaborer avec lui et à son côté». L’œuvre était pétrie de ses expériences de voyage dans d’autres Pays, en montrant les différentes conditions sociales et juridiques de la femme. Mais, au-delà des étiquettes, c’était son Manifeste d’engagement pour les femmes. «On peut empêcher les femmes de voter, mais on ne peut pas les empêcher de penser. Elles sont censées être capables de façonner le caractère de leurs enfants et d’éduquer des générations entières, parce-que, en général, elles s’occupent de la première enfance ; et pourtant on leur nie le droit primaire d’instiller une instruction et un sens de civilité», elle écrivait. Et encore : «La femme est quelque chose de plus que la femelle, comme l’homme est quelque chose de plus que le mâle, ôôparce-que l’intelligence leur permet de ne pas se borner à se reproduire. Un regard, même léger, sur l’étude du genre féminin, nous montre que la soumission de la femme n’est pas l’œuvre de la nature». Ce livre, censuré plus tard par le gouvernement de Franco et inclus parmi les premières neuf œuvres interdites par l’Inquisition Catholique Nationale , a été vite considéré la « bible du féminisme espagnol ». Il contenait les voyages, les articles, les confrontations avec beaucoup d’importantes personnalités et nombre d’histoires simples qu’elle avait rencontrés dans les dernières années. Entre temps, sa veine d’écrivaine continuait de s’exprimer, en faisant imprimer des dizaines de nouvelles ; beaucoup d’entre elles ont été publiées à épisodes dans «El Cuento Semanal». On rappellera, parmi les plus importantes, «Le trésor du château» (1907), «Sentiers de la vie» (1908), «L’homme noir» (1916), «Le meilleur film» (1918), «Les hommes d’affaires de la Puerta del Sol» (1919), «La ‘Miséricorde’» (1927), «Quand la loi l’impose» (1932). Elle était amie de Blasco Ibanez et collaborait à la maison d’édition Sempere dirigée par lui ; Ibanez avait aussi fondé le quotidien valencien, où elle a écrit longtemps sous le pseudonyme de Gabriel Luna. Elle a aussi traduit les œuvres de Max Nordau, Ruskin, Renàn. Carmen écrivait de tout, par passion, par engagement civil et aussi simplement pour arrondir son salaire d’enseignante, fière de l’indépendance économique qu’elle avait acquise et revendiquée. Elle ne s’est jamais définie comme féministe, d’ailleurs elle a toujours refusé toute étiquette. En 1931, pendant la Seconde République espagnole, elle a vu la réalisation de toutes les choses pour lesquelles elle s’était battue : mariage civil, divorce et suffrage féminin. Ce fut une joie pour elle, mais aussi le coup de pouce pour continuer encore mieux et davantage son engagement en des différentes organisations, même au détriment de sa santé de plus en plus dégradée. En 1932, pendant une conférence sur l’éducation sexuelle, Carmen a eu un malaise et s’est écroulée à terre. Elle est morte chez elle à l’aube du jour suivant. On dit qu’elle aurait prononcé ces mots : « Je meurs heureuse parce-que je meurs dans le triomphe républicain ! Longue vie à la République ! ». Elle a certainement été une femme libre, sans préjugés, courageuse, tenace. Son nom reste lié à beaucoup de batailles, à une production littéraire importante et au monde du journalisme. La damnatio memoriae que Franco avait essayé n’a pas réussi à l’atteindre, même après sa mort. On lit dans son autobiographie « Je déteste l’hypocrisie et comme je suis indépendante, libre et je ne veux pas être aimée pour les qualités que je ne possède pas, je dis toujours ce que je ressens. Donc, ceux qui m’aiment, m’aiment vraiment. Ceux qui médisent de moi derrière mes épaules , tirent leur chapeau devant moi. Je n’ai jamais pensé à ma croissance personnelle aux dépens de ma liberté ni renoncé à mes convictions ».

Titres et plaques espagnols à Madrid (à gauche et au centre) et à Guadalajara en Castille-La Manche (à droite).

 

Traduzione inglese
Cettina Callea

The smell of a printing shop rises up the nostrils and overwhelmingly attaches itself to the mind, with the memory of emotions. The first approach to the world of publishing came, for Carmen, precisely from those machines owned by her father-in-law, governor of Almeria. In his building the most important newspaper in the capital was printed every day. In short, she had always breathed journalism and politics at home. First in her paternal one, with her father vice consul of Portugal; then in the conjugal one, with not only her father-in-law and his printing house but also with her husband Arturo Alvarez Bustos, journalist and poet. She married - against the wishes of her parents - at sixteen, to a man fifteen years older than she was. To be honest, the marriage had been an unhappy one right from the start. Betrayals and alcohol had certainly not helped, and after the death of Arturo, one of the couple's four children, the choice to go to live in Madrid, bringing her daughter Maria with her, seemed the natural step towards the process of independence that had been maturing in her for some time. She lived temporarily in the house of her old uncle Agustin de Burgos Cañizares, and Carmen decided that they would live on what she would earn alone and began working as a teacher, a title she had achieved in the year of her terrible mourning. That conquered economic self-sufficiency was the first step of the all-out activity that would lead Carmen De Burgos to be what she became: writer, journalist, biographer, editor, conference speaker, columnist, establishing herself as Colombine first, and then reasserting her real first name years later, with reinvigorated energy. Carmen de Burgos y Seguí was born on 10 December 1867 in Almeria to her mother Nicosia Segu Nieto and her father Jose de Burgos Cañizares, the first of ten brothers and sisters. She grew up a few tens of kilometers from there, in Rodalquilar, a village in the Spanish municipality of Níjar in the province of Almeria, within the large valley that is the Cabo de Gata natural park, among the estates and mines owned by her grandfather. A fertile land, of mineral and cultural stratifications that often resurface in her works.

Portrait of Carmen de Burgos.

Less than forty years old, a marriage archived behind her and with the desire to start over, Carmen soon began to experiment in Madrid with her ability to read the facts of the time and write about them with wit. A few months after her arrival, in December 1901, she set foot in the world of journalism with the column "Notas Femeneninas", hosted by the newspaper "El Glogo". Colombine arrived the year after, in 1903. Augusto Suárez de Figueroa was founding the "Universal Diary" and proposed to her to collaborate on the new editorial project with a daily column entitled Lecturas para la mujer. She would deal with women's issues, basically - at least that was the intention, fashion, cuisine, art and beauty. It was the director himself who suggested that she use a French pseudonym. Thus, Colombine was born. That employment contract was the turning point: for the first time in Spain a woman was recognized as a professional journalist. In April 1904 she participated as a journalist in the delegation that accompanied King Alfonso XIII on his trip to Almería. Thus she returned home, to the conservative and Catholic city that she had had to leave the day after her separation from her husband. She visited her family but mainly visited the School of Arts, the Hospice and the Prison and on her return to Madrid she published two articles that recounted the experience. Carmen had the intuition and the ability to break through to the hearts of women by moving from beauty tricks to politics, she did not stop - also for economic reasons - from writing even cooking recipes, but she did not give up her commitment to a better society. She penned articles such as The Wife and Suffrage or The Inspection of Workers' Factories, immediately giving a clear tone to her work. "I am in favor of educating women and providing them with the means to work, as the only way to give them dignity, making them independent and able to take care of their needs on their own," she wrote. It was in those pages and those days, that her commitment to the affirmation of divorce in Spain was born. It all began almost by chance, when, looking for a topic to be treated in her column of the "Universal Diary", her gaze and thought lingered on a letter sent to her by the writer Vicente Casanova. The latter wanted to inform her of the existence of a "Club de matrimonios mal avenidos". Curiosity soon turned into a convinced awareness campaign. From a simple reflection for a column to real civil mobilization it was a short step. And not painless. Colombine's pen summoned intellectuals, politicians, and civil society. It was time, she was convinced, for Spain to adopt a law that formally allowed for the dissolution of a failed marriage. Divorce was "convenient for society and morality", she would prove, and also asked others to express themselves, to take a stand. The topic was now on the table, and many people took a stand with Colombine. Important intellectuals of the time responded to her "call" by referring to the article signed by her which gave rise to what seemed almost a survey with the clear-cut question: who is in favor of a divorce law? Too clear for politics, which chooses not to expose itself. But clear to the women and men who answered with conviction. The for and the against alternated, each arguing for yes or no. There were many names in the culture who did not evade the debate, and who wrote letters to Colombine, explaining their reasons for divorce or for opposing it. The magazine was not enough to welcome this collective reflection and on the other hand the level of the debate had become too politically demanding for a magazine that basically only asked her to write about “women's issues”. Therefore, in 1904 Carmen De Burgos published the volume entitled El divorcio en España. She decided to divide the work into two parts: the first collected the letters sent by the most illustrious personalities, while the second was formed by the responses of readers of the newspaper. Two distinct parts but with equal dignity and a single conclusion. Thanks to the survey she initiated and developed, she compared the results and verified that the majority of the country was in favor of divorce. The campaign did not spare daring approaches: arguing with the possibility granted to the nuns to leave the cloister, provocatively defined "el divorcio de las monjas", one would ask: if nuns can leave the cloister, why can't a wife divorce her husband? Her great exposition on the subject earned her the admiration of prominent people such as Giner de los Ríos and Blasco Ibáñez, but it had also brought her harsh criticism from the ecclesiastical world and the conservative sectors of the country and when a few years later, in the 1907, the conservative Antonio Maura came to the government, the Minister of Public Education Rodríguez-San Pedro transferred her to Toledo to remove her from Madrid. In addition to the divorce issue, Carmen immediately ventured into another terrain, no less disliked by a certain school of thought. In 1906 she began to collaborate with another newspaper, "El Heraldo de Madrid" and from these pages, with a new column entitled "El voto de la mujier", she started a campaign in favor of women's suffrage. "It is truly absurd that ignorant people have the right to vote only because they are men, and that educated women are denied this right only because they are women," she wrote. And then, again, articles on the education of women, on work, on the theme of the economic treatment of workers, and on the question of equal pay for men and women. She sided in favor of the Sephardim (the Jews of the Iberian Peninsula), against the death penalty and in defense of childhood and a new didactic approach. The progressive world was with her, invitations to conferences and debates increased. More and more hated, however, by those forces that were coming to power in Spain. And it would have been worse later, in the Franco era when, although no longer alive, Carmen de Burgos was condemned to oblivion along with her works, many of which, according to various historical reconstructions, were destroyed. This, however, would happen in the future. But the move to Toledo of the writer and teacher, imposed by the government, proved to be an unsuccessful attempt to remove her from the centre of the debate. Carmen, on the other hand, had really already physically moved away from Madrid. In 1905 she had obtained a scholarship from the Ministry of Public Education to analyze the teaching systems of other countries and had taken the opportunity to explore for almost a year in France, Italy, England and Monaco. An experience that had enriched her and pushed her, as soon as she returned from France, to found "La tertulia modernista", the literary circle that Carmen continued to nurture even from Toledo. So, without delay, every week she continued tirelessly to return to Madrid to host writers, journalists, artists, musicians, and foreign poets passing through the city at the club. The seeds were being sown for the birth of the "Revista Critica", but also for bonds of great strength. It was at the club that she met Ramón Gómez de la Serna, then an unknown eighteen-year-old student, and thus began a relationship, sentimental and epistolary, which lasted for over twenty years. A sincere affection, which did not spare her the criticism for that love with a much younger man, nor pain and bitterness for a brief close relationship between Ramón and her daughter Maria on the occasion of the young woman's participation in a comedy written by Gómez . It was a hard blow for Carmen but she forgave both of them. Years later in his Automoribundia about his relationship with Carmen, the Ramon wrote: "You on the one hand and I on the other, from a narrow table, we wrote and wrote long hours and read chapters, chronicles, short stories, prose poems." One of the few portraits that restored Carmen's dignity as a woman and writer is also owed to de la Serna. It was he who remembered her early years in Madrid "with a sad hat" and "her daughter in her arms" writing, writing and writing, for passion but also to earn a living. On the other hand, Carmen was the first woman to live off her writing, she was the first editor and she was also the first female journalist to be a war correspondent. When the time of war also came and Colombine's pen did not remain on the table. On July 9, 1909, the rifeños from the heights of the Riff attacked a group of Spanish workers who were building a bridge for the mining railway about three kilometers from Melilla, the Spanish city still today an enclave in Moroccan territory. The great indignation of the Spanish people was followed by the harsh reprisal of the government chaired by Maura. Two days after the attack, the Spanish military troops left for the Moroccan region.

Carmen Burgos with the Spanish soldiers in Melilla.

It was, in fact, the beginning of the Riff War, to which the reservists were also called. On 27 July 1909, during what was renamed by history the "tragic week", the terrible defeat of the Barranco del Lobo took place. The rifeños took refuge on the summit of Gurugú and the choice of the Spanish troops proved to be a fatal massacre. Carmen de Burgos, a guest at the field hospital set up by the Red Cross, thus decided to approach the Spanish troops who were fighting around Melilla to see and understand directly from the front. From there her war correspondences for the newspaper "El Heraldo" of Malaga; then, once back in Madrid, she published the article Guerra a la Guerra, in which she defended the pioneers of conscientious objection. "The civilized world - the article said - puts the gun in the man's hand, gives him the order to kill, and if the man throws the gun and refuses to be a murderer, he is treated like a criminal. Every man must, first of all, and whatever the cost, refuse such servitude”. A few weeks after her return, the experience in war territory became En la Guerra, a story that contains all the emotions recorded on the field. Carmen De Burgos had listened to and touched the suffering, the fear, the violence, she had been "inside" the war, among the soldiers. And she had to tell it as only she knew how to do. The Moroccan experience, moreover, was enriched in the work En la Guerra also by the chronicles of the First World War that Carmen was able to encounter on her journey to the Nordic countries: a journey that she had to interrupt before arriving in Russia because being suspected of being a spy, searched and taken off a train to Scandinavia. 1909 was also the year of her first novel: Los Misadaptados, a genre that she continued to cultivate in the years that followed with La Rampa (1917), The Antiquarians (1919), The Spirits (1923), The Fantastic Woman (1924), I want to Live My Life (1931). In the same year Carmen was appointed professor at the Central Normal School in Madrid, after having also attended the course of Methodology for teaching the deaf, dumb and blind. In 1911 she was appointed professor at the Madrid School of Arts and Crafts. Por Europa, published in 1910, was the result of her long and passionate travels on the Continent, but there was no shortage of travel reports in America and Argentina. Each trip was an opportunity to get to know and deal with progressive and feminist movements. In the meantime, her commitment to the issues of the female condition was never abandoned, although always with little affection for the concept of feminism. In 1915 a great friendship was born, which was destined to last a lifetime: the one with Ana de Castro Osorio, who personified the battle for women's rights fought in Portugal and which would influence the birth of the Spanish crusade that took place in 1921. In 1922, the Spanish Women's Crusade organized a demonstration to deliver all their demands in Parliament: the introduction of divorce, the possibility of paternity investigation, equal rights for legitimate and illegitimate girls and boys, the reform of rules that discriminated against women. In 1921 she wrote, for the series Novela Corta, Article 438. The penal code approved in 1870, still in force fifty years later, actually governed a sort of honor killing: the husband who killed his wife caught in the act of adultery was punished with a ban on approaching the place from which he was banned for about 25 kilometers. The rule also applied to parents who had found a minor daughter (therefore under the age of 23) with a lover but it was not valid, however, if the wife had discovered the unfaithful husband. With her story, Carmen asked for the abrogation of the law by starting a battle that was both legal and cultural. In the meantime she presided over the Crusader Association of Spanish Women, led the first protest demonstration of the suffragists in Spain and began to argue her ideas in demonstrations and public forums to which she was invited more and more often. In 1923 Carmen published Malcasada (badly married), set completely in Almeria and from whose lines the bitterness of a society that prevented a woman from escaping an unhappy marriage leaked out. These were also the years in which she approached the Republican Radical Socialist Party, after leaving the Spanish Socialist Workers' Party in controversy with the latter's internal reluctance towards the feminist demand for universal suffrage. In her work La mujer moderne y sus derechos (1927), signed no longer by Colombine, the theme of equality and feminism returned, which, Carmen De Burgos wrote, would represent "Not the struggle of the sexes, not even enmity with men, but on the contrary indicates that the woman intends to collaborate with him and at his side”. The work was imbued with travel experiences in other countries, comparing the social and legal status of women. But beyond the labels, there was her manifesto of commitment to women. “You can stop women from voting, but you can't stop them from thinking. Women are considered suitable to shape the character of their children and to educate entire generations, because generally women are involved in early childhood; and we deny them the primary right to instill an education and a sense of civility,” she wrote. And again: “The woman is something more than the female, as the man is something more than the male, from the moment in which intelligence allows them not to be reduced to the role of mere reproducers of the species. A glance, however slight, dedicated to the study of the female sex, shows us that the subordination of women is not the work of nature”. Censored years later by the Franco government and included in the top nine in the list of books prohibited by the National Catholic Inquisition, the book was soon called the "bible of Spanish feminism". Inside there were travels, articles, comparisons with the many personalities and the many simple stories she had encountered in recent years. In the meantime, her work as a writer didn’t stop, resulting in dozens of short stories in print, many of which were published in installments in "El Cuento Semanal". Among the most important will be remembered: The Treasure of the Castle (1907), Paths of Life (1908), The Black Man (1916), The Best Film (1918), The Businessmen of the Puerta del Sol (1919), La Misericordia (1927), and When the Law Requires It (1932). A friend of Blasco Ibáñez, she was a close collaborator of the Sempere publishing house he directed and for a long time she wrote, under the pseudonym Gabriel Luna, for the Valencian newspaper "El Pueblo", founded by Ibáñez. In her prolific activity as a writer there was also no lack of translations of works by authors such as Max Nordau, Ruskin, Renán. Carmen wrote about everything, for passion, for civil commitment and even just to supplement her salary as a teacher, thanks to her conquered and claimed economic independence. She never called herself a feminist, just as she rejected any other label. In 1931 everything Carmen had fought for was born together with the Second Spanish Republic which recognized civil marriage, divorce and women's suffrage. It was a joy, but it was also a reason to continue the assiduous commitment in various organizations more and better, even despite increasingly poor health. In 1932, during a conference on sex education, Carmen collapsed to the ground as the result of an illness that led to her death, in her own home, at dawn the next day. It is said that she would have uttered these words: “I am dying happy because I am dying in the republican triumph! Long live the Republic!”. She was certainly a free woman, without prejudice, courageous, tenacious. Her name remains linked to so many battles, to so much important literary production and to the world of journalism. A sign that the Damnatio Memoriae attempted by Franco after her death did not manage to touch her. She spoke of herself to posterity, in her autobiography: “I hate hypocrisy and since I am independent, free and do not want to be loved for qualities that I do not have, I always say everything I think and feel. So those who love me really love me. Whoever turns away from me from behind takes off his hat in front of me. I never thought about personal gain at the expense of my freedom or by giving up my beliefs”.

Spanish titles and plates in Madrid (left and center) and Guadalajara in Castile-La Mancha (right).

 

Ma è ben noto che diverse donne erano attratte dalle idee e dai pensieri di Lilli, tanto da comprare il giornale di nascosto da mariti e sguardi indiscreti. Una voce rivoluzionaria e fuori dal coro era ciò di cui le donne avevano bisogno e contribuì a smuovere le coscienze su temi considerati scomodi, come il diritto di voto, ottenuto dalle estoni nel 1917. Lilli credeva fermamente nell’uguaglianza: le differenze tra le persone, siano esse di sesso o di etnia, non devono in alcun modo limitare la possibilità di realizzazione del singolo individuo. In un suo articolo Lilli scriveva: «Questa è una chiamata che resterà importante: svegliatevi, donne estoni, dall’inerzia, dalla debolezza e dall’oscurità della mente e guardate quanto lontano e quanto in alto può arrivare la naturale mente delle donne; iniziate a conoscere le basilari nozioni della scienza, lavatevi gli occhi con la conoscenza, così saranno più puliti e in grado di cogliere più chiaramente l’idea della bellezza di ciò che ci circonda.» Alcuni sostenevano che la rivista diffondesse volontariamente ostilità tra uomini e donne. Il sogno del magazine femminile si spense nel 1894, quando Lilli fu costretta a vendere il giornale a causa di problemi finanziari, ma le idee e gli spunti di riflessione che era riuscita a trasmettere rimasero scolpiti nella mente di molte donne dell’epoca. Nel 1899 la figlia Anna, a cui fu affidata la gestione della scuola di Viljandi, decise di chiuderla, dopo essersi sposata e trasferita a Omuli. Lilli seguì la figlia e insieme aprirono una nuova scuola in città, in cui insegnarono fino al 1907. Nel 1900 Lilli pubblicò il suo ultimo racconto intitolato Linda, the people’s daughter e successivamente si dedicò alla scrittura delle proprie memorie. In uno dei racconti pubblicati negli ultimi anni, Lilli scriveva:«Ora posso sperare che le persone comprendano meglio il mio messaggio, rispetto a quando ho iniziato a rendere pubblico il mio pensiero - come un uccello solitario in una landa desolata dove risuonano solo scherni e insulti.» Nel 1916 fu riconosciuta come una delle prime femministe estoni e una delle poche donne ad aver pubblicato i suoi scritti con il proprio nome e non con uno pseudonimo maschile. Diventò anche membro onorario della Tartu Women’s Society, un’associazione che aveva l’obiettivo di svegliare le coscienze femminili, in materia di diritti civili e politici. Nel maggio del 1917 l’associazione organizzò il suo primo congresso, ma Lilli non riuscì a parteciparvi per motivi di salute. Negli ultimi anni di vita, Lilli visitò spesso la sorella nella città di Valga e fu proprio lì che morì l’8 febbraio del 1923, all’età di 81 anni. Fu sepolta nel cimitero di Vandra, dove nel 1926 fu eretto un monumento alla sua memoria. Nel 1982, inoltre, nel sito che ospitava la sua scuola in Viljandi, fu apposta una targa in suo onore.

Traduzione francese
Giuliana Gaudenzi

Caroline Suburg, surnommée Lilli, est née à Vandra Parish, en Estonie, le 1er Aout 1841. Tout de suite après sa naissance, ses parents, Eva et Toomas Suburg, ont déménagé dans une maison de la proche ville de Vana-Vandra, où Lilli a reçu des leçons privées par une institutrice. Ensuite, de 1852 à 1859, Lilli a étudié dans une école privée pour jeunes filles, fondée par Marie von Ditmar dans la ville de Pardu. Mais, pour des raisons de santé, a du interrompre ses études pendant au moins une dizaine d’années. On lui a diagnostiqué une maladie de la peau nommée érésipèle, une infection bactérienne de la peau qui frappe principalement bras, jambes et visage et se manifeste par de la fièvre ; la peau est rougie, tendue et chaude ; peuvent aussi se manifester des vésicules et des cloques de la peau. Le visage de Lilli était déjà marqué par une intervention chirurgicale qui avait mal tourné, subie dans son enfance pour l’enlèvement d’une tumeur et cette maladie a empiré la situation, raison pour laquelle elle a toujours refusé de se faire photographier sans une écharpe pour cacher les cicatrices. Durant les années de sa maladie, Lilli a du rester au lit pendant de longues périodes, mais elle n’a jamais gaspillé son temps, qu’elle a beaucoup consacré à la lecture. Elle a lu plusieurs écrits de Rousseau, de Kant et de John Stuart Mill. Elle était attirée par la littérature allemande et par la pédagogie et elle a commencé à s’intéresser et à approfondir les questions liées aux droits des femmes, en lisant des essais et des livres concernant ce sujet. Quand sa maladie le lui a permis, elle a commencé à enseigner à ses familiers ce qu’elle était en train d’apprendre. En 1869 elle s’est complètement rétablie et a réussi à décrocher l’habilitation à l’enseignement. En 1872 elle a fait la connaissance de Carl Robert Jakobson, écrivain et pédagogue qui la poussa à écrire sa première nouvelle. En effet, elle a commencé la rédaction de Liina, un court texte autobiographique qui a été publié en 1877. La méthode d’écriture de Lilli reposait sur la « stratégie autobiographique », que l’auteure utilisait comme moyen pour rendre valables ses propres idées sur le plan public. D’ailleurs elle estimait que raconter l’histoire de sa vie était indispensable pour encourager les femmes à trouver leur propre chemin et à se sentir capable de prendre ses propres décisions, en se défaisant des rôles de mère et d’épouse imposés aux femmes par la société.

En 1880 Lilli a adopté Anna Wiegandt, une orpheline dont la mère était morte en couche. A l’époque, ce geste était considéré révolutionnaire parce-que Lilli n’était pas mariée et elle ne s’est jamais mariée. La même année, à cause de l’alcoolisme de son père, la famille s’est trouvée confrontée à des sérieux problèmes d’argent, ainsi Lilli et sa fille ont été contraintes à déménager dans la ville de Parnu. Là, elle a décidé d’ouvrir une école privée pour jeunes filles, où on pouvait enseigner en langue russe, même si en ces temps-là une loi prévoyait l’obligation d’enseigner en allemand. Quand l’école a ouvert ses portes en 1882, l’obligation légale était encore en vigueur et Lilli a été contrainte d’enseigner en allemand. L’ouverture de cette école a été très critiquée, mais Lilli n’a pas fléchi face à toute sorte de médisance, tant et si bien qu’en 1885 elle a acheté un immeuble plus grand dans la ville de Viljandi et elle a déplacé l’école dans le nouveau siège. Son intention était d’attirer davantage de jeunes filles et elle y est arrivée, en augmentant les inscriptions de 8%. Même si elle était contrainte d’enseigner en allemand, Lilli n’a pas oublié de mentionner dans ses leçons les personnalités estoniennes de l’époque, car son objectif était de permettre aux étudiantes de développer un sentiment d’appartenance à leur propre culture et à leurs propres racines, qui n’étaient pas allemandes. Seulement en 1892 a été permis l’enseignement en langue russe, même si, au fil du temps, Lilli avait envoyé plusieurs demandes aux autorités pour pouvoir enseigner en russe, qui avaient été toujours rejetées. Pendant la période d’enseignement, Lilli a continué à écrire des livres et des nouvelles et cela l’a poussée à demander l’autorisation à publier un magazine dédié aux femmes. En 1888 le rêve est devenu réalité : le premier magazine féminin, appelé « Linda », est né. La revue s’occupait de sujets révolutionnaires pour l’époque : les droits des femmes, la parentalité, le vote et l’instruction féminine. Pour Lilli était aussi essentiel de parler de la possibilité pour les femmes de choisir de ne pas se marier, ce qu’elle avait fait. Ses publications ont été largement critiquées par les autres journaux : à l’époque on estimait que les femmes n’étaient pas capables d’effectuer des tâches intellectuelles, donc Lilli n’était pas considérée comme une intellectuelle, mais comme une femme qui agissait d’une façon inappropriée, parce qu’elle s’intéressait à des arguments qui étaient l’apanage des hommes.

Mais il est bien connu que beaucoup de femmes étaient attirées par les idées et par la pensée de Lilli, tant et si bien qu’elles achetaient le magazine en cachette des maris et loin des regards indiscrets. Une voix révolutionnaire et dissidente était ce dont les femmes avaient besoin et elle a contribué a remuer les consciences sur des thèmes qui étaient considérés incommodes, comme le droit de vote, obtenu par les estoniennes en 1917. Lilli croyait fermement à l’égalité : les différences entre les gens, que ce soit le sexe ou l’ethnie, ne doivent en aucun cas limiter la possibilité d’accomplissement de chaque individu. Dans un de ses articles Lilli écrivait : « C’est un appel qui restera important : réveillez-vous, femmes estoniennes, de l’inertie, de la faiblesse et de l’obscurité de l’esprit et regardez jusqu’où et à quelle hauteur peut arriver l’esprit des femmes ; commencez à connaitre les notions scientifiques de base, nettoyez vos yeux avec le savoir, ils seront ainsi plus nets et capables de cueillir plus clairement la beauté de ce qui nous entoure » Certains affirmaient que le magazine propageait délibérément hostilité entre hommes et femmes. Le rêve de la revue féminine s’est éteint en 1894, quand Lilli a été contrainte de la vendre à cause de problèmes financiers, mais les idées et les pistes de réflexion qu’elle avait réussi à transmettre sont resté gravés dans l’esprit de beaucoup de femmes de l’époque. En 1899 sa fille Anna, à qui on avait confié la gestion de l’école de Viljandi, a décidé de la fermer, après son mariage et son déménagement à Omuli : Lilli a suivi sa fille et ensemble elles ont ouvert une nouvelle école en ville, dans laquelle elles ont enseigné jusqu’à 1907. En 1900 Lilli a publié sa dernière nouvelle, appelée « Linda, the people’s daughter » et par la suite elle s’est consacrée à l’écriture de ses mémoires. Dans l’une des nouvelles publiées les dernières années, Lilli écrivait « A présent, je peux espérer que les gens comprennent mieux mon message, par rapport à quand j’ai commencé à rendre publique ma pensée – comme un oiseau solitaire dans un désert où résonnent seulement des sarcasmes et des insultes. » En 1916 elle a été acceptée en tant qu’une des premières féministes estoniennes et une des rares femmes à avoir publié ses écrits avec son propre nom et non avec un pseudonyme masculin. Elle est aussi devenue membre honoraire de la Tartu Women’s Society, association qui avait comme objectif celui de réveiller les consciences féminines en matière de droits civils et politiques. En mai 1917 l’association a organisé son premier congrès, mais Lilli n’a pas réussi à y participer pour des raisons de santé. Dans les dernières années de sa vie, Lilli a souvent rendu visite à sa sœur dans la ville de Valga et c’est là qu’elle est décédée le 8 février 1923, à l’âge de 81 ans. Elle a été inhumée dans le cimetière de Vandra, où en 1926 a été érigé un monument à sa mémoire. En 1982, dans le site où avait été bâtie son école de Viljandi, une plaque a été apposée en son honneur.

 

Traduzione inglese
Syd Stapleton

Caroline Suburg, known throughout her life as Lilli, was born in Vandra Parish, Estonia, on August 1, 1841. Soon after her birth, her parents, Eva and Toomas Suburg, moved to the nearby town of Vana-Vandra, where Lilli received private lessons from a governess. In the following years, from 1852 to 1859, Lilli studied in a private school for girls, founded by Marie von Ditmar in the city of Pardu. For health reasons, however, she had to interrupt her studies for at least ten years. She was diagnosed with a skin disease called erysipelas, a bacterial skin infection that mainly affects the arms, legs and face and occurs with a fever. The disease can produce a bright red, uncomfortable rash. Blisters and boils can also arise. Lilli's face was already marked by a botched operation undergone in childhood for the removal of a tumor and this disease worsened the situation. As a result, she always refused to be photographed without a scarf covering the scars. In the years of her illness, she Lilli was confined to bed for long periods, but never wasted her time, devoting much of it to reading. She read writings by Rousseau, Kant and John Stuart Mill. She felt attracted to German literature and pedagogy, and she began to take an interest in and investigate issues related to women's rights, reading essays and books on the subject. When her illness allowed, she began teaching what she was learning to her family. In 1869 Lilli fully recovered and managed to obtain a qualification for teaching. In 1872 she made the acquaintance of Carl Robert Jakobson, a writer and teacher who urged her to write her first story. She began writing “Liina”, a short autobiographical tale that was published in 1877. Lilli's writing technique was based on the so-called "autobiographical strategy", which the author used as a means to present her ideas in the public sphere. She thought that telling the story of her life was essential to encourage women to find their own path, and feel able to make their own decisions, disconnecting from the socially-imposed roles of mother and wife.

In 1880, Lilli adopted Anna Wiegandt, an orphan whose mother died in childbirth. For the time, this was considered a revolutionary gesture since Lilli had never married. In the same year, due to her father's alcoholism, the family found itself in serious economic trouble. Lilli and her daughter were forced to move to the city of Parnu. It was there that she decided to open a private school for girls, where she intended to teach in Russian, despite a law of the time requiring that students be taught in German. When the school opened in 1882, the legal obligation was still in place and Lilli was forced to teach in German. There were many criticisms of the opening of this institution, but Lilli did not allow herself to be swayed by the backbiting - so much so that in 1885 she bought a larger building in the city of Viljandi and moved the school to its new location. Her intention was to attract more girls and she succeeded, increasing enrollment by 8%. Despite being forced to teach in German, Lilli did not neglect teaching about the key Estonian personalities of the time in her lessons. Her goal was to encourage her students to appreciate their own culture and roots, which were not German. Only in 1892 was teaching in the Russian language allowed. Until that time, Lilli’s years of requests to the authorities to be able to teach in Russian were always rejected. During her teaching time, Lilli continued to write - books and short stories - and this led her to apply for permission to publish a newspaper dedicated to women. In 1888 the dream became reality. The first women's magazine was born, called “Linda”. The newspaper dealt with revolutionary topics for the time: women's rights, parenting, suffrage and women's education. For Lilli, it was also essential to talk about the possibility for women to choose not to marry, as she had done. Her publications were widely criticized by other newspapers. In that time and place many maintained that women were unable to perform intellectual tasks. As a result, her critics saw Lilli not as an intellectual, but as a woman who behaved inappropriately, since she was interested in subjects that were supposed to be a male prerogative.

But it is well known that many women were attracted to Lilli's ideas and thoughts, so much so that they bought the newspaper secretly, away from husbands and prying eyes. A revolutionary and unconventional voice was what women needed, and it helped to raise consciousness on issues considered uncomfortable, such as the right to vote, finally obtained by Estonian women in 1917. Lilli firmly believed in equality: the differences between people, be they of sex or ethnicity, must not be allowed to limit in any way the possibilities for development of any single individual. In one of her articles, Lilli wrote: "This is a call that will remain important. Wake up, Estonian women, from inertia, weakness and mental darkness and see how far and how high the natural mind of women can reach. Begin to learn the underlying principles of science, flood your eyes with knowledge, so they will be clearer and more able to grasp the idea of ​​the beauty that surrounds us." Some claimed that the magazine purposely provoked hostility between men and women. The dream of the women's magazine died out in 1894, when Lilli was forced to sell the newspaper due to financial problems, but the ideas and insights she had managed to convey remained engraved in the minds of many women of the time. In 1899 her daughter, Anna, who was entrusted with the management of the Viljandi school, decided to close it, after getting married and moving to Omuli, Latvia. Lilli followed her daughter and together they opened a new school in the city, where they taught until 1907. In 1900 Lilli published her last fiction entitled “Linda, the People 's Daughter” and subsequently devoted herself to writing her own memoirs. In one of her writings published in her later years, Lilli wrote, "Now I can hope that people understand my message better than when I started to make my thoughts public – when I was a lonely bird in a desolate landscape that rang with only jokes and insults. " In 1916 she was recognized as one of the first Estonian feminists, and one of the few women to have published her writings under her own name and not under a male pseudonym. She also became an honorary member of the Tartu Women 's Society, an association that had the aim of awakening women's consciousness in matters of civil and political rights. In May 1917 the association organized its first congress, but Lilli was unable to attend for health reasons. In the last years of her life, Lilli often visited her sister in the city of Valga and it was there that she died on February 8, 1923, at the age of 81. She was buried in the Vandra cemetery, where a monument in her memory was erected in 1926. In 1982, a plaque in her honor was placed at the site of her school in Viljandi.