Split View: 돈키호테 — 최초의 근대소설이 던진 이상과 현실

Don Quixote — The First Modern Novel and the Tension Between Ideals and Reality

• Opening — The Old Man Who Charged the Windmills
• Cervantes and the Spanish Golden Age
• The Shape of the Story — A Man Who Chose to Be a Knight
• Two Worlds — Don Quixote and Sancho Panza
• The Depth Beneath the Laughter
• The Birth of the Modern Novel and Early Metafiction
• A Walk Through Famous Scenes — Moments Where Laughter and Resonance Cross
• The Reception of Its Time and Its Later Influence
• A History of Translation — A Knight Reborn in Many Languages
• What the Title Holds — The Story Inside a Name
• In Dialogue with Other Masterworks
• A Quick Quiz — How Much Do You Know?
• Many Readings — Fool or Saint?
• Idealism Across the Ages — The Heirs of Don Quixote
• A Short Thought Experiment — What Would You Do?
• What It Means Today — The Don Quixote in Us
• Parts One and Two — A Maturing Across Ten Years
• Cervantes' Craft — The Art of Handling Voices
• A Scene from History — Until the Book Came Into the World
• Closing — The Mood of the Ending and What Remains
• Reading Tips
• Questions to Sit With
• Further Reading

Opening — The Old Man Who Charged the Windmills

An aging country gentleman, clad in rusty armor and mounted on a bony horse, lowers his lance and charges a row of distant windmills.

To his eyes they are monstrous giants with many flailing arms. Beside him his squire cries out, "My lord, those are not giants but windmills."

Yet the old man will not listen. He spurs his horse forward, drives his lance into a turning sail, and both man and mount are sent tumbling to the ground.

This is perhaps the single most famous image in all of world literature. It is tempting to remember the story only as a farce about a foolish old man lost in delusion.

But there is a reason this book has been read for more than four hundred years: the questions beneath the laughter are anything but light. What is real and what is illusion? Is the person who chases an ideal a fool or a hero?

And is there not, in each of us, a moment when we too long to see giants where others see only windmills?

In this piece we look at Miguel de Cervantes' Don Quixote from several angles. We take up the author and his age, the relationship between the idealist Don Quixote and the realist Sancho Panza, and the depth hidden within the comedy.

We also consider the birth of the modern novel as a matter of literary history, and finally the questions the book still poses to today's readers.

Spoilers are kept to a minimum, and where the ending's mood is touched upon, I flag it in advance.

Cervantes and the Spanish Golden Age

To understand Don Quixote it helps to picture the age that produced it. Part One appeared in Spain in 1605, Part Two in 1615.

Spain was then passing through what is called its Golden Age, a cultural high point. Yet it was also a moment when imperial power had begun its slow decline.

After Columbus's voyages, Spain drew immense quantities of silver and wealth from the Americas, and literature and painting flourished.

Yet endless wars and reckless finances left the country's household in disarray. A glittering surface coexisted with a rotting interior. It was, in a very real sense, a society that felt the gap between ideals and reality in its own bones.

Cervantes' own life was full of hardship. As a young man he served as a soldier at the Battle of Lepanto, where his left hand was badly maimed.

He is said to have been proud rather than ashamed of that wound. On the voyage home he was captured by pirates and spent several years as a captive in Algiers.

Even after a ransom secured his release, his life never grew smooth; he drifted through many trades and wrestled with poverty.

These turns of fortune seep into every corner of the novel. Few writers could render, as vividly as Cervantes did, the story of a man who leaps into the world bearing an ideal, only to be knocked down and mocked again and again.

He had learned how to transmute his own defeats into laughter. Perhaps the figure of Don Quixote was, for the author, a mirror in which he gazed at his own wounds.

The Shape of the Story — A Man Who Chose to Be a Knight

Before the analysis, a brief sketch of the broad arc of the tale, focused on the character's journey rather than on individual episodes.

The hero is a country gentleman of La Mancha. He is so absorbed in tales of chivalry, stories of brave knights slaying monsters and rescuing princesses, that he reads little else, day and night.

In time the border between fiction and reality blurs, and he resolves to become a knight-errant himself, to right the world's wrongs and defend the weak.

He gives himself the name Don Quixote de la Mancha, refurbishes his old armor, and takes a neighboring farmer, Sancho Panza, as his squire.

In his heart he enshrines a woman he has never met as his ideal lady, Dulcinea, and sets out on his adventures for her sake.

His journeys, mistaking windmills for giants, an inn for a castle, a flock of sheep for an army, brim with laughter and commotion.

What matters here is that the novel is more than a string of episodes. The tension that runs through the whole work arises from the mismatch between how Don Quixote sees the world and how the world treats him.

Two Worlds — Don Quixote and Sancho Panza

The heart of the novel lies in the contrast between two figures: the idealist Don Quixote and the realist Sancho Panza.

Don Quixote is the ideal itself. To his eyes the world must always be as noble and meaning-laden as the stories he has read.

He refuses to acknowledge the shabby reality before him, or rather he cannot. To him an innkeeper is a lord of the castle, a village girl is a peerless beauty, a barber's basin is an enchanted helmet.

This stubbornness looks foolish, yet it also carries a certain purity and courage.

Sancho Panza, by contrast, stands with both feet firmly on the earth. He knows hunger and beatings and practical advantage.

Proverbs are forever on his lips, and he sees what is in front of him as what it is. He knows his master chases phantoms, and yet he stays by his side.

At first he hopes for practical rewards such as the governorship of an island, but as the story unfolds, something else begins to grow in his heart.

Their relationship comes into focus when set out in a table.

What is striking is how, as the story advances, the two men color one another. Sancho gradually comes to understand his master's ideals, while Don Quixote learns the weight of reality through Sancho.

Some scholars read the two figures as in fact two voices within a single human mind, the two faces of dream and calculation that all of us carry.

Accept that reading and the story deepens further, for we too pass back and forth between Don Quixote and Sancho many times a day.

The Depth Beneath the Laughter

Above all, Don Quixote is a funny book. Cervantes deploys sly humor and slapstick, wordplay and situational comedy with complete command.

His trick of imitating the solemn diction of chivalric romance and pinning it onto absurd situations feels startlingly close to the parodic sensibility of our own time.

Yet this laughter is not mere mockery. The reader laughs at Don Quixote, then at some point begins to cheer for him, and finally, when he falls, feels a corner of the heart ache.

This subtle migration of feeling is the novel's magic. Laughter shades into pity, and pity into respect, quite naturally.

By Part Two the mood grows more mature still. In Part One the world simply treated Don Quixote as a madman, but in Part Two people who know of his delusions deliberately stage elaborate performances to indulge them.

Here the question flips. Between the man who sees phantoms and those who exploit those phantoms to mock him, which is the more foolish and cruel?

Cervantes does not force an answer; he simply lays the question quietly before the reader.

The Birth of the Modern Novel and Early Metafiction

In literary history Don Quixote is often called the first modern novel. Long narratives and epics certainly existed before it.

There are, nonetheless, reasons this work receives such special treatment.

First, its characters have living interiors. Don Quixote is not, like a mythic hero, a finished being from the start.

He wavers, misjudges, and changes; he is a rounded human being. The reader enters his head and comes to see the world through his eyes.

This gaze that probes the individual interior opened, in advance, the road the novel would travel.

Second, the book is remarkably self-conscious. Cervantes slips in the device that the story is in fact a translation of a manuscript written in Arabic.

In other words, within the novel, the novel's own source is doubted and commented upon. More astonishing still is Part Two.

Its characters meet Don Quixote having already read the book that is Part One. This dizzying structure, a fictional character who has read a novel about himself, is a very early instance of what would later be called metafiction.

Simplified into a text diagram, this self-referential play looks like this.

[Reader in the real world]
   └─ reads the novel Cervantes wrote
        └─ narrator within: "this tale is a translation of a certain manuscript"
             └─ characters of Part Two: "we have already read the book called Part One"
                  └─ they meet its hero, Don Quixote, face to face

Such nested framing is hard to believe belongs to a work four hundred years old, so modern does it feel.

In this old book we already encounter the prototype of the "story about a story" that so many experimental novels and films still attempt today.

A Walk Through Famous Scenes — Moments Where Laughter and Resonance Cross

Why this novel is so loved comes into sharper focus when we recall the texture of a few representative scenes. Here I touch only on moments that convey the mood, without revealing how they resolve.

The first is, of course, the windmill scene. Mistaking the turning sails for a giant's arms and charging, this scene draws laughter, yet at the same time it carries a certain resolve.

In the figure of a man who trusts what he has seen and lowers his lance, though all the world calls it a windmill, folly and courage are strangely mingled.

The second is the scenes where an inn is taken for a castle. Don Quixote's manner of treating a shabby country inn as a grand castle, and its rough folk as noble ladies and knights, gently reminds us that how we see reality is what makes the world we live in.

The third is the passage where Sancho takes up governance. The plain wisdom this shrewd, homely squire shows when placed in so unexpected a post lends the story both warm humor and insight.

Cervantes draws, with an affectionate gaze, the charm of a person who grasps the ways of life without any book learning.

As such scenes accumulate, a subtle change takes place in the reader's heart. The initial burst of laughter turns, before long, into tenderness, and then into respect.

The Reception of Its Time and Its Later Influence

Don Quixote was immensely popular from the moment of its publication. As soon as Part One appeared, people were captivated by the tale of this comical knight, and its characters soon became widely known names.

Interestingly, the book was so popular that, before Cervantes could bring out Part Two, someone else wrote and published a spurious sequel.

Spurred by this, Cervantes completed the true Part Two, and within it he even referred to the counterfeit sequel directly, responding with wit.

Its influence on later ages is almost impossible to measure. Countless novelists took Don Quixote as the starting point of the modern novel.

The contrast between ideal and reality, the rounded character, the self-referential narration, these features of the work became the common inheritance of later literature.

Not only literature but theater, music, painting, and ballet have adapted and reinterpreted Don Quixote endlessly.

That a single work keeps being revived across the ages is because the questions it holds do not wither. Ideal and reality, dream and awakening, the individual and the world. These old questions ring out anew in every age.

A History of Translation — A Knight Reborn in Many Languages

That Don Quixote became a treasure of world literature owes much to the power of translation. From relatively early after its publication, the novel began to be carried into many languages.

English-speaking readers could meet the story from the seventeenth century onward, and thereafter each generation produced new translations, remaking Don Quixote in its own tongue.

Translation is not merely a matter of swapping words. This is all the more true of a work like Don Quixote, in which humor, register, and period nuance are deeply interwoven.

To bring across, in each language, Don Quixote's grand diction and Sancho's earthy speech was an immense challenge for the translator.

For that reason, even for the same work, each translation has a slightly different grain. One edition preserves a classical dignity; another smooths its sentences so that modern readers may approach with ease.

This is not a flaw but rather proof of the work's vitality. A great classic gains a slightly new face each time it meets a new age and a new language.

The Don Quixote we read now is likewise the result of a long accumulated history of translation. To choose a good translation is also to take part in one strand of that long conversation.

What the Title Holds — The Story Inside a Name

There is a grain worth chewing over even in the title and name Don Quixote.

The hero was originally an ordinary country gentleman. After he resolves to become a knight, he coins a new name for himself.

The very act of coining a new name is symbolic. It is like a declaration of parting from the self one has been until now, and of being reborn as the being one wishes to become.

This passage is not unfamiliar to us today. We too become, little by little, someone slightly different as we take on new names and new roles.

The scenes in which the hero gives a name to his ideal land, gives a name to the one he loves, and even gives a name to his horse, quietly show that to name is to build a world.

By naming something, we take it into our world as a part of it. Don Quixote is a figure who pushed exactly that power to its extreme.

And so the names he invents are comical and yet somehow moving. For they are one human being's straining effort to turn a shabby reality into a noble tale.

In Dialogue with Other Masterworks

Set beside other classics, Don Quixote's distinctive features stand out more clearly. The table below compares a few works around the theme of ideal and reality.

This is, of course, a simplification meant to aid understanding, and it cannot fully capture the depth of each work.

Such comparison is not made to rank works one above another. Rather, it shows that great works each treat the fundamental questions of human life in their own way.

The way Don Quixote chooses is depth arrived at through laughter. This paradox, reaching the most serious of questions through the most comical of figures, is precisely Cervantes' genius.

A Quick Quiz — How Much Do You Know?

Answer a few questions in a light spirit. The answers are just below.

First, what did Don Quixote mistake for giants? Second, what is the name of the practical squire who stays by his side? Third, what is the name of the woman Don Quixote served as the lady of his heart?

Now let us check the answers. The first is windmills. The second is Sancho Panza. The third is Dulcinea.

Remembering just these three is enough to grasp the broad picture of the novel. If you read attending to the relationship and stance of these characters rather than to the details of events, the story comes across far more richly.

Many Readings — Fool or Saint?

Don Quixote has been read differently in every age, and this is precisely the power of a classic.

Here are several representative perspectives, offered in balance, without pressing any one as the correct one.

The first perspective is Don Quixote as satire. Cervantes is understood to have written the work in part to mock the extravagant chivalric romances then in fashion.

In this reading Don Quixote is a man captive to an anachronistic fantasy, and the novel is a merry ridicule of outworn ideals.

The second perspective is a defense of idealism. By the Romantic era many readers found in Don Quixote not an object of ridicule but a source of inspiration.

They saw in the man who runs toward the values he believes in, however the world laughs, a pure soul who will not bow to a corrupt reality.

The third perspective attends to the very tension between these two readings. The greatness of this novel lies in its refusal to be resolved to one side.

Don Quixote is foolish and noble at once, comic and moving at once. Cervantes neither fully mocks nor fully glorifies him. Within this ambiguity lies a truth about human beings.

Here is something to sit with. If everyone in the world calls a thing a windmill and a single person alone calls it a giant, how ought we to treat that person?

Must we correct the belief at all costs, or should we respect something contained within it? There is no fixed answer.

Yet merely holding the question makes us, perhaps, a little larger.

Idealism Across the Ages — The Heirs of Don Quixote

The portrait of the idealist that Don Quixote draws is not confined to a single age. In every era there have been people who set themselves against the common sense of the world and pressed on toward what they believed.

Consider the history of science. There have been researchers who held to a hypothesis everyone called impossible and repeated their experiments over long years. Many of them had to endure ridicule, yet that very stubbornness sometimes led to discoveries that changed the world.

The same is true in the history of society. People who held to ideals of justice and equality that seemed, at the time, mere vain dreams have, over long stretches of time, nudged the world a little forward.

Of course, not every stubbornness ends in a beautiful conclusion. An ideal that ignores reality can sometimes wound both oneself and those nearby.

The question Don Quixote poses to us lies exactly at this point. When does stubbornness become courage, and when does it become mere obstinacy?

There is no easy answer to this question. But thanks to the figure of Don Quixote, we come to gaze upon this delicate boundary longer and more deeply.

A Short Thought Experiment — What Would You Do?

To feel the question this novel poses a little more closely, let us try a simple thought experiment.

Imagine you have one very dear friend. That friend has long held to a certain dream that everyone else calls impossible.

The people around him pity him and advise him to accept reality at last. That advice surely carries a sincere concern.

Yet the friend himself says that each day of chasing that dream is when he feels most himself and most happy. At this point, how would you treat him?

On one hand you want to remind him of reality so that he will not be hurt. On the other hand you do not want carelessly to snuff out that light in his eyes.

This very conflict resembles the feeling Sancho Panza must have carried all along at Don Quixote's side. Sancho knew his master chased phantoms, and yet in the end he could not leave him.

Perhaps what this novel teaches us is not how to choose the correct answer, but how to endure this conflict and stay by another's side.

What It Means Today — The Don Quixote in Us

What might this novel say to those of us alive now?

First, the old theme of balancing ideals and reality comes to mind. We often waver between two extremes.

We chase ideals until we crash against the wall of the real and despair, or we sink so deep into the practical that we lose our dreams.

Don Quixote and Sancho embody these two poles, but the story does not urge us to discard one of them. It leans, rather, toward inviting us to find the point where the two voices converse and are tuned to one another.

Next comes the question of what we live for. Don Quixote's adventures look like a chain of failures.

Yet at every moment he lived in earnest toward the meaning he believed in. Measured only by outcome he may have achieved nothing, but the sincerity of that journey is hard for anyone to deny.

In a world that gauges success and failure by results alone, this story quietly offers a different measure.

It is telling, too, that the word "quixotic" has come, in several languages, to mean chasing ideals in an unrealistic way.

A single character's name has become a common noun pointing to a human type. That is how fully this figure captured not a particular person of a particular age but a facet of the human being that transcends time.

Parts One and Two — A Maturing Across Ten Years

To savor Don Quixote deeply it helps greatly to know the difference between Parts One and Two. The two parts were written a full ten years apart, and in that interval the author's gaze visibly deepened.

Part One is on the whole bright and boisterous. The hero rushes out into the world and stirs up all manner of commotion, and the world simply treats him as a madman.

Laughter leads the way, and situational comedy and slapstick drive the story. The reader can enjoy the blundering of this comical knight with an easy heart.

Part Two has a quite different grain. Now the people of the world have already read the book called Don Quixote and know who he is.

Knowing his delusions, they deliberately stage elaborate performances to match them. On this footing the humor grows more bitter, and the questions grow heavier.

Those who exploit the phantom knowingly begin to seem crueler than the man who sees it.

Set out in a table, the change looks like this.

Reading the two parts against each other in this way, one sees that Cervantes did not merely stitch together an amusing tale but, through a single character, advanced toward ever deeper questions.

A story that began meaning to amuse is transformed, by its end, into a deep insight into human beings.

Cervantes' Craft — The Art of Handling Voices

Much of why this novel has survived so long lies in Cervantes' outstanding craft with sentences. He was especially gifted at handling different voices.

Don Quixote speaks in a lofty, stately manner, as if he had stepped straight out of an old chivalric romance. Sancho, by contrast, pours forth earthy proverbs and plain speech.

The rhythm of dialogue made by these two voices colliding and entwining is vivid and delightful even read today. The very clash of the noble style and the homely style is itself a form of humor and insight.

Cervantes also toys with the reader by constantly shifting the narrator's position. In one passage he doubts the reliability of the tale; in another he slips in a comment.

This sly manner of narration makes the reader not simply accept the story but doubt and enjoy it alongside him.

That a writer of four hundred years ago possessed so refined a narrative sensibility is simply astonishing.

A Scene from History — Until the Book Came Into the World

Let us for a moment imagine the moment this book came into the world. Early seventeenth-century Spain, a time when printing had taken hold and books spread more widely than before.

The number of people who could read was growing, and the public's thirst for stories was swelling too.

In such an age, an elderly author wrestling with poverty put forth into the world the tale of a comical knight. The book stirred an immediate response.

People made Don Quixote's adventures the talk of squares and taverns, and his name spread in an instant. A character born of one person's imagination walked, in this way, into the imagination of an entire age.

There is something this scene suggests. Great works are often born not from a glittering background but from the hand of one who gazed honestly at life amid hardship.

Cervantes shaped his own defeats and failures into laughter, and that laughter has carried, across the ages, all the way down to us.

Closing — The Mood of the Ending and What Remains

From here I touch briefly on the mood of the ending. If you would rather not know how the ending unfolds, you may skip this paragraph.

At the close of the long adventure, Don Quixote at last recovers himself. And in that moment, as his long passion and illusion fade, the story ends in a quiet, lingering hush.

In this final scene many readers feel not laughter but a chill of sorrow. To wake from illusion, Cervantes shows us softly, is not always a blessing.

Don Quixote is, in the end, a story about the two worlds a human being will forever carry: the ideal and the real. Every day we choose and compromise between them.

The reason this old book is still loved is surely that its old dilemma still lies at the very center of our lives.

Reading Tips

A few practical notes for those opening this book for the first time.

• Do not be daunted by its length. The novel's episodes are relatively self-contained, so reading a chapter or two a day will not cost you the thread.
• The opening chapters of Part One can feel a little strange. Once you pass the windmill scene and Sancho joins, the story's rhythm comes alive, so I recommend a little patience up to that point.
• Choosing a good translation matters. An edition with rich notes and commentary lets you enjoy the humor and background of the age far more fully.
• Read with the difference in mood between Parts One and Two in mind. Discovering the maturer gaze of Part Two in particular is the key to savoring this work deeply.

Questions to Sit With

• In my own life, am I closer to Don Quixote or to Sancho Panza? How has the ratio between them shifted over time?
• Is chasing to the end a dream that others call a phantom a matter of courage or of folly? By what is that boundary drawn?
• Between waking from illusion and continuing to dream, which makes for the more fully human life?
• The premise of a character reading the book that contains his own story, how does it resemble the way we now live surrounded by records of ourselves?

Further Reading

• Britannica, "Don Quixote" — https://www.britannica.com/topic/Don-Quixote-novel
• Britannica, "Miguel de Cervantes" — https://www.britannica.com/biography/Miguel-de-Cervantes
• Britannica, "Spain: The Golden Age" — https://www.britannica.com/place/Spain
• The Metropolitan Museum of Art, "Spain in the Age of Exploration" — https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/spai/hd_spai.htm
• Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "Skepticism" (background on illusion and perception) — https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/skepticism/
• Instituto Cervantes — https://www.cervantes.es/