Free-D

Say the word “nativity” to an English person and they’ll probably recall an embarrassing incident involving a tea towel and a donkey. They’re also likely to remember the vaguely disappointing sensation of being cast as a sheep in the primary school’s Christmas debacle. How different to the images conjured up by the word “Belén”. It chimes upon the ear. Salamanca, like any self respecting Spanish city, has its share of nativity scenes at this time of year; including one made of sand situated in the Plaza de los Bandos. And currently housed in the Casa de Maria la Brava is a large display of Napolitano “Belenes”. In some ways it’s an impressive collection, the figures well made, the scenes convincing. But in spite of all this there’s something strangely dull about most of the pieces on show. The ideal Belen is one of those things that some people here get a bit obsessed by. Most of them ending up like a 3d version of an 18th century painting; with an impressive perfection of scale, dress and taste. And that’s precisely where the joy is lost. After all, birth and parenthood are a messy business – but somehow, despite the dirty nappies, warm, milky vomit and sleep deprivation – most parents would describe their experience as “magic”. Furthermore, the shepherds, so neatly coiffured and sporting freshly laundered garments, don’t look as “rural” as they should. What’s missing more than anything is the smell. Nothing against shepherds, but if you live with sheep, or worse, goats, it’s inevitable that you aren’t going to smell wonderful. I’m not suggesting a sort of “scratch ‘n’ sniff” nativity scene, just a little more “social realism.” Nothing, however, is so disappointing in a belen as “perfection” of scale. Well, after all, does it feel “real” when you hold a baby’s tiny fist in your giant adult’s hand? Children seem to grasp both the significance and insignificance of scale so much more acutely than adults. In the dolls house you can find such a variety of odds and ends, not only of scale (a miniature porcelain figure sipping from a cup of enormous proportion) - but of quality: from an old plastic figure with an arm missing to the latest, shiniest toy. This has its parallel in the nativity story itself - shepherds, kings, animals, angels, a stable, and a star: it’s as if someone thought of all the mismatching ingredients they could and threw them all together.
So, for me at least, the discordant clamour of bells which comes with the spanish word for nativity touches upon the truth much more than a civilized eighteenth century idyll ever could.