Saint Emmanuel the Good, Martyr

Through the character of Don Manuel, the novella explores The Utility and Morality of Deception in fostering communal harmony and protecting individual souls from despair. Don Manuel manages information and guides his flock with benevolent deceit, believing in the preservation of faith over the harsh truths that could disrupt the spiritual tranquility of his community. His strategy of controlling information involves preaching against the evils of gossip to keep the peace and shield his secret. Acting as a mediator, Don Manuel filters communication between mothers and their absent sons, controlling the narrative and possibly dissuading the sons from undermining their mothers’ faith, as seen in his interactions with Lázaro. His caution to Angela to engage only with devotional readings—“But read devotional works above all, which can bring you contentment in life, peaceful and quiet contentment” (73)—further illustrates his meticulous management of information to preserve faith and unity within the community. Don Manuel’s practices are not without biblical support. His warning that “[Envy] is nurtured by those who are bent on believing themselves envied, and persecutions more often come from a persecution complex than from any persecutor” is an example (59). His words align with the biblical injunction against slander in Leviticus 19:16, emphasizing the ethical imperative to protect one’s neighbor from harm.

However, Don Manuel also reveals himself willing to bend the Church’s rules and teachings if doing so will support the mental well-being and happiness of his parishioners, further developing his complex stance on deception. By ensuring a man who died by suicide receives a churchyard burial, contrary to Catholic dogma, Don Manuel prioritizes communal peace over strict adherence to doctrine. Likewise, Don Manuel’s “blasphemous” characterization of unbaptized children as God’s angels—“From breast to Glory!” (60)—contradicts traditional rules, highlighting his commitment to a doctrine of compassion over rigid religious laws and emphasizing his view that happiness is the only thing that matters. As Don Manuel puts it, “The joy of living is the most important thing of all” (63).

This insistence on the primacy of life in the here-and-now hints at Don Manuel’s skepticism regarding the existence of Heaven. Similarly, his advice to a widow—“Stay here to commend his soul to God” (63)—subtly foreshadows his view of the afterlife as a continuation in human memory rather than the literal Heaven of Christian teaching, linking to the theme of Saintliness, Legacy, and Mortality. This perspective is further echoed in his reflection on salvation through community service: “How am I going to save my soul if I don’t save my people’s?” (65). His depiction of his salvation as intertwined with that of others suggests a belief in an afterlife grounded in the memories of the living. His evasive answer to Angela’s question about Hell—“What does that matter to you, if you’re not going there?” (69)—is both a callback to the Prologue’s story about the Parisian lady and the clergyman and another instance of Don Manuel’s disbelief. In keeping with his philosophy of benevolent deception, however, such remarks are ambiguous enough that they generally pass unnoticed by his parishioners.

Angela is an exception to this rule, becoming increasingly aware of Don Manuel’s struggles in this section. Don Manuel’s silence during the Apostles’ Creed suggests his inner doubts, which Angela communicates via a comparison to the submerged city beneath the lake and its hidden truths: “Don Manuel’s voice was drowned in that of all the people, as in the lake: he had fallen silent. And I could hear the ringing of the bells of the town that people here say lies at the bottom of the lake” (59). This moment of silence, as well his advice to eschew contemplation for constant work, reveals to Angela the depth of his internal struggle: “I well understood from then on that Don Manuel fled from idle and solitary thinking, that some thought was haunting him” (59). Angela’s later reflection on Don Manuel’s silence likens him to Moses in the biblical story in Exodus 17:8-13, where Moses relies on Aaron and Hur to hold up his hands for the Israelites to prevail in battle, “his people lifting him on their shoulders to carry his lifeless body into the promised land” (59). Just as Moses’s leadership is physically upheld by his followers, Don Manuel’s spiritual guidance, predicated on the silence that becomes literal during the creed, is metaphorically supported by his parishioners’ faith and actions.

In fact, Don Manuel himself reveals the village’s crucial role not only in helping him fulfill his duties, but also in staving off his existential despair when he explains his avoidance of solitude: “And I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptations in the desert. On my own, I wouldn’t be able to bear the cross of having been born” (65). Angela mirrors his self-sacrifice, desiring to alleviate his existential burden: “I was beginning to feel a sort of maternal affection for my spiritual father; I wanted to relieve him of the cross of having been born” (71). Her realization that her confessions serve more to comfort Don Manuel than to absolve her spiritually marks a moment of awakening, as she recognizes a mutual pretense maintained for the sake of the other’s mental peace: “And when I went again to confess to him it was to comfort him” (67). This intricate dance of deception and sacrifice between Angela and Don Manuel underscores The Tragedy of Consciousness, where the awareness of life’s weight necessitates mutually nurtured illusion. Likewise, Angela’s observation of the sadness in Don Manuel’s eyes, which she again likens to the “blue […] waters of the lake” (69), marks a pivotal moment in her awakening and loss of innocence. The lake motif evolves throughout the narrative, reflecting the characters’ internal landscapes and serving as a backdrop to Angela’s growing awareness of the nuanced reality of their spiritual lives.

Lázaro serves as a critical foil to Don Manuel, highlighting the clash between traditional village life and the progressive ideals of the modern world, here associated with the Americas (sometimes figuratively known as the “New World”). Lázaro’s intent to relocate his family to the city, driven by his belief that village life is limiting, sets him at odds with Don Manuel, whose profound influence he resents. Lázaro’s frustration with the ineffectiveness of his anti-religious rhetoric among the villagers underscores the deep-rooted spiritual and communal bonds Don Manuel has nurtured. Lázaro challenges this influence, which he views through a secular, transactional lens: “[Priesthood is] the job at which he has to make his living” (73).

This perspective overlooks the deep spiritual connection Don Manuel fosters within the community—a connection Angela understands and chooses to protect through her silence about Don Manuel’s doubts. Like her brother, Angela represents the next generation, but their experiences in Don Manuel’s orbit lead them to vastly differing attitudes toward their own beliefs and doubts. Angela’s decision against marriage or motherhood, opting instead to serve Don Manuel, further underscores their protective, nurturing bond. Her confession experience, where Don Manuel suggests she start a family, instead awakens a maternal instinct toward Don Manuel; she “feel[s] the sap of motherhood rising in [her] womb” (67), revealing her commitment to safeguarding his spiritual legacy over personal desires or societal expectations.