Abstract

We look on Fernán Pérez de Guzmán as an exile not only because he lived out the last thirty years of his life in the relative seclusion of his estate in Batres; he is an exile, too, because as a poet he has long been banished from critical acclaim. For an enthusiastic view, one has to go back to the 1860s and the eulogy of the literary historian José Amador de los Ríos, according to whom Fernán Pérez's graceful didacticism deserved “[el] aprecio de la verdadera crítica.” Since then, “the appreciation of true critics” has been reserved for what is now considered a canonical work of prose history, the Generaciones y semblanzas, whereas most of his poetry has been condemned for stylistic inelegance — ironically, as we shall see, one of the very qualities he seems deliberately to have cultivated