Dr. Higueróa and Manzoni’s clerics
Jennifer Brown
The initial chapters of Gadda’s La cognizione del dolore are traversed by the character Dr. Higueróa who travels by foot toward the villa of his patient and the protagonist of the novel, Gonzalo Pirobutirro, contemplating the countryside and its inhabitants and tracing a path through space and time resonant with the voices of the common people, of nature, and with the literary voice of the narrator, as well as that of the doctor himself. Higueróa’s journey reaches even beyond the boundaries of Gadda’s novel, incorporating linguistic, syntactical, and narratological techniques in addition to characters and situations, which recall the author’s nineteenth century model (and anti-model), Alessandro Manzoni’s I promessi sposi.
The intertextuality of La cognizione and Gadda’s work in general, especially in relation to Manzoni’s novel, is well-documented: among the many studies dedicated to the relationship between the two authors – a topic which has interested scholars from Contini down to those of the present day –, the recent work of Aldo Pecoraro constitutes a minute analysis of the technical aspects of the exchange, attributing the almost palpable presence of Manzoni in Gadda’s fiction to the memoria permanente of the latter, minimizing the probability of any real thematic dialogue between the two novelists.
While in most instances Pecoraro’s characterization of the phenomenon is accurate, and Gadda’s adaptation of his predecessor’s motifs and methods is, in fact, more casual than meaningful, Dr. Higueróa represents perhaps an exception to the rule. The character bears the unmistakable marks of certain Manzonian clerics (especially don Abbondio, fra Galdino) and is a fundamental figure in the development of the central themes of La cognizione. The figure of Dr. Higueróa serves to bind and separate Gadda’s novel and I promessi sposi simultaneously, functioning as a fulcrum which allows Gadda to articulate his particular vision of the world in terms of and in contrast to that of Manzoni.
Dr. Higueróa’s route through the Maradagalese countryside, a thinly disguised version of the Lombard landscape populated by the characters of I promessi sposi, could be that of don Abbondio on his fateful evening stroll which initiates the action of Manzoni’s novel, or that of padre Cristoforo on his way to counsel Agnese and Lucia, or it could be the route followed by fra Galdino in search of walnuts for the monastery. Not only does the «buon dottore» seem to follow in the literary footsteps of Manzoni’s characters, but his mannerisms, his appearance, his speech, the techniques with which the narrator directs and manipulates him recall now one, now another of these clerical figures. The similarities between Higueróa and don Abbondio have been exhaustively catalogued by Pecoraro and include analogous syntax in the presentation of the two characters and their actions, similar mannerisms and «props» (the bastoncello that figures prominently in the doctor’s characterization and is present in the depiction of the priest as well), and linguistic expressions («argento vivo» and «ci siamo», to cite two examples mentioned by Pecoraro). Even the quality of their speech is similar, as Pecoraro notes: «Il dottor Higueróa non ripete soltanto mosse, frasi, azioni di don Abbondio con significato dilatato, ma ne assume la caratteristica del comportamento di brontolare sempre e su tutto» (Pecoraro 1996: 126).
The two characters also share an attitude of «chiuso buon senso» according to the critic (Pecoraro 1996: 131), and play similar roles in the larger contexts of the two novels: «Le misure di coincidenza tra la passeggiata del dottore e quella del curato si ampliano sino a investire globalmente i due personaggi come vettori eroicomici di brontolante mediocrità» (Pecoraro 1996: 132). Higueróa is not, however, simply a replica of don Abbondio; the connections to the priest cited above constitute but one dimension of the character, and Pecoraro is careful to note the differences. He observes, for example: «Se il lento movimento degli occhi di don Abbondio si configura come l’atto ozioso dello sfaccendato, la lentezza con cui lo sguardo del dottore cerca i suoi oggetti è gravata da inguaribile stanchezza» (Pecoraro 1996: 121). The mortal exhaustion with which the doctor is afflicted is a trait exhibited by none of Manzoni’s clerics, who, on the contrary seem imbued with a common enthusiasm the object of which, however, varies considerably from one to another.
Take the narratorial and ideological zeal of fra Galdino, for example. The Capuchin is a minor character in I promessi sposi who appears twice in the course of the novel, once on Agnese’s doorstep during his tour of the town and countryside collecting walnuts for his order and a second time at the monastery itself when Agnese calls seeking padre Cristoforo. Despite the brevity of his appearances the friar’s character is firmly established. In the volume edited and commented by Ezio Raimondi and Luciano Bottoni, Galdino is referred to as a «chiacchierone per dovere e per natura» (Manzoni 1988: 402, n.), and his visit to Agnese and Lucia is described as follows: «più che l’attesa dell’obolo sembra prevalere nel frate il piacere del raccontare; la sua voce diventa quella della routine ecclesiastica» (Manzoni 1988: 65, n.). Nor is there a lack of textual evidence to support these claims. Lucia is clearly worried that fra Galdino might betray her secret and warns her mother to keep quiet; later, in justifying her generous donation of walnuts, she hints at their visitor’s propensity to gossip:
«Mamma, perdonatemi», rispose Lucia; «ma se avessimo fatta un’elemosina come gli altri, fra Galdino avrebbe dovuto girare ancora, Dio sa quanto, prima d’aver la bisaccia piena; Dio sa quando sarebbe tornato al convento; e con le ciarle che avrebbe fatte e sentite, Dio sa se gli sarebbe rimasto in mente. (Manzoni 1988: 67, my italics)
And Galdino cannot hide his curiosity regarding the abrupt change in wedding plans, news of which must have reached him as he made his rounds and about which he does not hesitate to inquire directly: «Il cercatore, sbirciando Agnese così da lontano, disse: “e questo matrimonio? Si doveva pur fare oggi: ho veduto nel paese una certa confusione, come se ci fosse una novità. Cos’è stato?”» (Manzoni 1988: 64). Agnese offers a cursory response and adeptly diverts the friar’s attention by inquiring as to his luck with the harvest, to which Galdino happily responds with a religious dictum and the instructive tale of the miracle of the walnuts.
Manzoni’s narrator only traces the contours of fra Galdino: no information concerning his inner thoughts and motivations is offered directly by the narrative voice, and the character is constructed almost entirely through his own words and actions and those of other characters. Gadda’s narrator is not so reticent in shaping the character of Dr. Higueróa who unequivocally takes pleasure in knowing and recounting the details of the stories and scandals which take place about him. Indeed, the only stimulant strong enough to rouse him from his semi-permanent slumber is the possibility of learning or telling a story, the official story, the authentic and authoritative version of events. It is this aspect of the doctor’s personality that recalls most vividly the zealous fra Galdino, though there are other circumstances and characteristics that link the two figures. The doctor avidly pursues the details, the official details, of the latest scandal or local event; he enters the narrative, in fact, as a function, even as one of the primary authors of the Gaetano Palumbo story:
Lo scandalo non fu gran cosa: fu anzi piuttosto miseria che scandalo, a venne a galla, che si andava già per la Madonna di settembre, ad opera di uno sconosciuto commerciante di stoffe e del dottore di Lukones, il quale erborò poi dati più esatti da un colonello medico in villeggiatura. (Gadda 1987: 20)
The narrator later recounts Higueróa’s persistence in gathering these «dati più esatti», and the doctor’s ultimate victory and subsequent narratorial ascendance over the half-formed voices of the common people:
Il dottore, già informato «del asunto» della mezza voce del popolo, tanto da poterne informare la signora del colonnello, e il colonnello stesso, ricevette dal collega e ufficiale superiore quel soprappiù di precisioni e d’allegati medici che da allora in poi lo fecero signore e padrone della novità del giorno, in vittorioso vantaggio di un quattro o cinque lunghezze sulla mezza voce del popolo. (Gadda 1987: 69)
But particularly telling is the doctor’s reaction when he realizes that Gonzalo is not fully informed of the facts of the case and that the occasion to practice his role as official narrator is at hand. Higueróa undergoes a sudden transformation in that moment which conveys the same «piacere del raccontare» that fra Galdino displays in narrating the miracle of the walnuts:
«Mutilato?…». Aveva aperto gli occhi di colpo, il buon medico. «Ma è guarito da un pezzo!… più guarito di lei!… e di me…». Aveva dirizzato gli orecchi, se si può dire, in un balzo verso la gioia, come un cavallino allo schioccar della frusta. Un serbatoio in pressione, che appena aprirgli un rubinetto sotto la pancia, vi-i-i!, ti piscia fuori un fischio da non arrivar più a chiuderlo, neanche con la chiave inglese. (Gadda 1987: 221)
The official purpose of the doctor’s visit (a brief physical examination that lasts all of one page) is eclipsed by the Palumbo miracle (even though it is the narrative voice, not the voice of the doctor, which actually recounts the events) just as the highlight of fra Galdino’s visit is his edifying tale rather than abundance of walnuts he receives in recompense.
As mentioned above, however, the joy of storytelling is not the sole similarity between Higueróa and fra Galdino. One of the doctor’s most characteristic gestures, his shrug, finds perhaps its genetic blueprint in the friar’s second appearance, just after Agnese asks when padre Cristoforo might return to the convent. «“Ma…?” disse il frate, alzando le spalle, e ritirando nel cappuccio la testa rasa» (Manzoni 1988: 401). This simple and practically solitary gesture of fra Galdino becomes one of the doctor’s choreographic refrains: he punctuates his own and others’ comments with «alzate di spalle» at least six times during his conversations with Battistina and Gonzalo. In addition, one of Galdino’s particularly colorful expressions finds its way into Higueróa’s discourse, and in a similar context. As the friar cheerily defends the departure of padre Cristoforo which has so disturbed Agnese he praises his colleague’s written sermons, describing them as «fior di roba» (Manzoni 1988: 402). Higueróa adopts the expression in defense of the colonel, also a physician, when Gonzalo lashes out at that man’s nephew: «“è un fior di un medico…” arrischiò il dottore» (Gadda 1987: 165).
The foregoing example points to another, rather, two other characteristics shared by Dr. Higueróa and fra Galdino. First, is the sense of solidarity each figure expresses in relation to his particular «profession» or calling, a solidarity which finds its greatest expression through the institutions with which each man identifies. Manzoni’s friar never deviates from the orthodox capuchin vision of the world in his interactions with Agnese and Lucia. He functions as a sort of vehicle through which the values and beliefs of his order are expressed. Just before he relates il miracolo delle noci, in itself a form of religious propaganda, fra Galdino admonishes Agnese, «E per far tornare il buon tempo che rimedio c’è la mia donna? L’elemosina» (Manzoni 1988: 65).
Later he poses yet another rhetorical question to the by-now-distraught woman: «Se i superiori dovessero render conto degli ordini che danno, dove sarebbe l’ubbidienza, la mia donna?» (Manzoni 1988: 401). It seems fra Galdino never misses an opportunity to evangelize for the benefit of his own order. He concludes his first narratorial performance, the story of the «miracolo», with the following rhetorical summary: «perché noi siam come il mare, che riceve acqua da tutte le parti, e la torna a distribuire a tutti i fiumi» (Manzoni 1988: 66), a sentiment repeated at the closure of his second colloquium with Agnese, but without the metaphorical flourish: «perché noi viviamo della carità di tutto il mondo, ed è giusto che serviamo tutto il mondo» (Manzoni 1988: 402).
Corresponding to fra Galdino’s faith in his order and its teachings is Dr. Higueróa’s faith in traditional social institutions as well as in medical science and human epistemological capacity in general. In recommending that the Pirobutirros register with the Nistitúos provinciales de vigilancia para la noce the doctor affirms his solidarity with public authorities. The narrator observes:
Il medico, con quel discorso, pareva che volesse divertirsi a far paura ad un bimbo. In realtà ci teneva a darsi a divedere informato, a stupire il signor Gonzalo con la sicurezza del notiziario: per constatare poi, nonostante tutto, che la polizia dell’arrondimiento oculava nella tenebra, in piena efficienza. Egli era pubblico ufficiale, in quanto funzionario della sanità: si sentiva solidale, in certa misura, con tutti gli altri funzionari e ufficiali della provincia, e forse della Repubblica… (Gadda 1987: 216)
Higueróa is the mouthpiece as well for what contemporary society might call family values, an ideology espoused also and not incidentally, by the fascist regime held in contempt by the author of La cognizione. Higueróa is referred to on more than one occasion by the twin appellations «il buon dottore e buon padre» (Gadda 1987: 75), and his familial and professional roles do indeed intersect. He attributes Gonzalo’s legendary fits of anger and general eccentricity to his patient’s bachelorhood, for example, and as Higueróa listens to Battistina’s account of Gonzalo’s reprehensible behavior the narrator registers the doctor’s reaction: «Il medico aveva un’idea. La sua diagnosi era in corso di maturazione: o, forse, con cinque figliole che donna Carlotta gli aveva regalato, era già matura da un pezzo. Vae soli» (Gadda 1987: 123).
The biblical allusion which concludes the preceding observation hints at another dimension of Dr. Higueróa’s world view. While the doctor certainly does not prescribe to the particular brand of religious orthodoxy espoused by fra Galdino there is nonetheless a sort of practical or even social religiosity underlying his character. The following passage, in which the Christian virtues of charity and hope are appropriated to describe a somewhat secular process of social and even psychological rehabilitation, characterizes in part the doctor’s attitude:
Il medico e padre, tuttavia, persisteva nell’opinione che anche un naufrago, a voler davvero, lo si può ripescar fuori dai flutti, dalla ululante notte: il tessuto sociale interviene allora al soccorso: e agisce contro la cianosi del singolo col vigore non mai spento della carità; opera come una respirazione d’artificio, che ridona al prostrato, dopo il soffio azzuro della speranza, il rosso calore della vita. (Gadda 1987: 145-46 my emphasis)
The passage is all the more interesting for its fusion of various important motifs both in terms of the thematic development of the novel and for the specific characterization of Higueróa. The opening metaphor vaguely recalls fra Galdino’s marine simile, although the friar imagined a benevolent sea of capuchin charity while the doctor conjures a threatening image of personal wreckage in the midst of a sort of dark night of the spirit. The concept of charity, rather than a means of attaining grace, or in fra Galdino’s view, divine good will, becomes a function of the social fabric which comes to the rescue of the individual. The excerpt concludes with a medical simile particularly appropriate for the doctor comparing the social/psychological rehabilitation to a somehow spiritual sort of CPR. The intersection of religious concepts, faith in social institutions, and medical/scientific terminology is typical of Dr. Higueróa’s thought: his is a religion grounded firmly in the material world, on a faith in science, a religion of health and social order.
Higueróa’s world view corresponds to a considerable extent to the ideology of the fascist regime in which religion certainly had its place, if only to preserve traditional values, in which the family was sacred, and in which physical health and the strength of the body received the highest praise. Just as fra Galdino’s formulaic mini-sermons only serve to reveal the uselessness, in practical and spiritual terms, of a blind conformity to an essentially temporal institution so do Higueróa’s comments, despite their frequent biblical overtones, underscore the insufficiency of a rigid (and for Gadda, insidious) ideology. Even the doctor’s simple «Vada là… Ringrazi il Signore» (Gadda 1987: 201) rings false, an empty exclamation which fails to address, even ignores, the existential crisis of his patient. Higueróa attempts to quote the Scriptures shortly thereafter reproaching Gonzalo’s lack of civic sensibilities –not, as one might expect, his lack of religious convictions: «Vorebbe anche l’esonero dalle tasse, ora?… Ma se legge davvero i Vangeli come sosteneva poco fa, vedrà bene anche lei, nei Vangeli, cosa ci sta scritto… C’è scritto… che le tasse bisogna pagarle…» (Gadda 1987: 202). He doesn’t get the words exactly right, but for the doctor interpretation prevails over verbal precision.
The language of Christian doctrine pervades Higueróa’s medical philosophy as well. Regarding the diets of the majority of the madagaralese in comparison to the last remaining Pirobutirro male, the doctor praises the habits of the former almost as if they symbolized a moral superiority: «Gli altri feudatari e salumai della plaga erano lodevolmente astemi pensò il dottore mentre seguitava ad andare» (Gadda 1987: 81, my emphasis). And certainly the dietary choices of Gonzalo constitute a moral weakness, a deadly sin in the eyes of the people and to a certain extent in the eyes of the doctor. Gonzalo’s predilection for lobster takes on fantastic and demonic dimensions among the less educated and serves in part as evidence in support of the servant José’s affirmation that his master «avesse dentro, tutti e sette, nel ventre, i sette peccati capitali, chiusi dentro nel ventre, come sette serpenti» (Gadda 1987: 74).
Although the doctor mitigates somewhat the horror of Gonzalo’s lobster consumption, he nonetheless attributes a moral significance to diet in general. He considers whole wheat bread and fruit «il pasto ideale dell’uomo giusto […] dell’uomo normale» (Gadda 1987: 84-85), self-consciously adjusting the heavy moral connotation of the adjective giusto with the more socially loaded normale. Lamenting the excesses of his patient’s diet, Higueróa exclaims, «Povero viscerame degli umani!» (Gadda 1987: 96) echoing, as Emilio Manzotti’s notes suggest, the eleventh canto of Dante’s Paradiso and thereby introducing a moral dimension to the poor health habits of his patient. Indeed, the doctor’s thoughts lead to a comment on spiritual health which appears outside quotation marks and therefore might as easily be attributable to the narrator as to the character. The passage reads thus:
«Povero viscerame degli umani!» pensò il buon dottore… «E anche quello dei marchesi, che hanno l’arme sulla bertesca». Di arme in arme, di viscere in viscere: di trippa in trippa! E, parallelamente, di pensiero in pensiero, e forse di anima in anima. Ma non c’è magistero per le anime sbagliate: le loro piaghe non conoscono cipria. (Gadda 1987: 96-97)
Even though the final sequences quoted above do not appear in quotation marks, they are nevertheless consistent with other beliefs expressed unambiguously by the doctor, who consistently discusses physical problems in moral and spiritual terms, and moral and spiritual (psychological) problems in medical/physical terms. Gonzalo’s expression of despair leads Higueróa to draw the following conclusions:
in tutto il volto gli si leggeva uno sgomento, un’angoscia, che il medico tra sé e sé non esitò un minuto ad ascrivere a una nuova crisi di sfiducia nella vita: e anche certo, certo, ai postumi della disfunzione gastrica che lo aveva tanto disturbato l’altr’anno. (Gadda 1987: 144-45)
Focusing on the obvious mental disturbances experienced by his patient, the doctor attributes them to the pernicious habit of excessive rumination – and later prescribes fresh air and denounces Gonzalo’s intellectual pursuits: «Il medico ridacchiò: gli parve, pensandoci, che il figlio Pirobuttiro stesse per troppo a rumuginar malanni, chiuso in sé: malanni ormai rugginosi nel tempo: e i pensieri attossicavano l’anima, come una spazzatura irrancidita» (Gadda 1987: 83). Once again the metaphysical elements of Higueróa’s diagnoses are balanced by formidably concrete components: existential despair is coupled with gastric distress; depression results from poisonous thoughts infecting the body like rancid garbage.
In the context of I promessi sposi figures such as don Abbondio and fra Galdino serve to demonstrate the limitations of human institutions, the inability of human systems, private or public, to penetrate or conceive divine will. As such, the priest and the friar each espouse an incomplete or defective ideology in relation to the overriding message of the work as a whole. The narrative voice distances itself from both figures emphasizing the schism between the worldly piety of fra Galdino and the secular religion of survival of don Abbondio on one hand and the faith in the «deus absconditus and ignotus» (de Lucca 1996: 65) of Manzoni himself on the other.
Likewise, Gadda’s narrator distinguishes himself ideologically on many occasions from Dr. Higueróa, a distinction which is rendered especially obvious in his ironic and even cynical attitude toward religious conventions. Though the doctor’s version of Christianity is skewed to accommodate his reverence for both science and social order, he hardly seems aware of, and would probably vehemently deny, his lack of orthodoxy. The narrator, on the other hand, treats the topic lightly and irreverently, in a manner totally alien to the doctor’s vision of the world. This irreverence reverberates in the narrator’s comment on Gaetano Palumbo’s sentimental toast to the health of his uncle and sometime namesake Pedro Mahagones: «la salute dell’anima, cioè la vera, definitiva, eterna salute, la sola che realmente conti; visto che le spoglie mortali del caro zio erano già sottoterra da otto anni» (Gadda 10987: 21). The clarification which follows the semicolon constitutes an ironic twist on the preceding segment in which spiritual health is lauded according to traditional Church doctrine. Later, during the description of Gonzalo’s gluttonous behavior and the resultant, equally scandalous indigestion, the narrator intones, «… vollero le Potestà Ultrici del Cielo che gli seguisse, per il loro giusto intervento, un lungo e costosissimo male» (Gadda 1987: 94).
The narrator thus humorously reconfigures the traditional punitive role of the Heavens couching his comments in pseudo-bureaucratic language and underscoring the ironic tone of the whole Gonzalo-as-glutton sequence. Yet another narrative comic aside emerges during Dr. Higueróa’s conversation with Battistina, just as the servant relates the details of her employer’s one-man stampede in the dining room of the villa, to which a picture of Gonzalo’s deceased father falls victim: «Si fece il segno della Croce. Manifestò un grande rispetto per la sala da desinare» (Gadda 1987: 126). The conventional religion of the common people with its repetoire of formulaic gestures provides comic material for the narrative voice, while for Dr. Higueróa, despite his pretensions and scientific airs, religious conventions constitute a part of the landscape, part of the reality which is for him the social and material fabric of the world.
Dr. Higueróa, then, is representative of a philosophy, a vision of the world which serves as a counterpoint to the philosophy and to the vision of the world underlying the novel as a whole, contrasting with Gadda’s own vision as expressed in works such as Meditazione milanese. As Robert de Lucca observes in his article Revealed Truth and Acquired Knowledge: Considerations on Manzoni and Gadda, Gadda’s poetics are based on the conviction that «the nature of human behavior is part of an infinite system of relations» (de Lucca 1996: 62) and therefore impossible to represent or fully understand from a human, finite perspective. The doctor’s views not only echo the ideology of fascism but also suggest an acceptance of deterministic philosophy, rejected, as de Lucca notes, by Gadda, according to which reality consists of a finite and theoretically predictable and comprehensible system of relations. Higueróa’s faith in an official reality, in an objective reality, in the human capacity to identify the cause of every effect is ultimately undermined in the context of the novel as demonstrated by his failure to comprehend Gonzalo, to cure him physically or spiritually, and to avert, predict, or explain the final act of violence which concludes La cognizione. The character’s role within the economy of the work is thus quite similar to that of don Abbondio or fra Galdino in I promessi sposi, figures whose acceptance of simplified and rigid systems or ideologies precludes or ignores the importance of divine revelation and the insufficiency of mortal reason before the inscrutability of God, both cornerstones of Manzoni’s faith.
In the final analysis, then, Dr. Higueróa seems deliberately constructed in the image of the Manzonian characters don Abbondio and fra Galdino, the result of a process which reveals Gadda’s ideological relationship to his predecessor. While Manzoni approaches literature from an eminently Catholic, religious perspective and Gadda’s poetics are based on scientific and philosophical studies rather than religious ones, both writers struggle with the representation of a reality which can only be partially «known» (De Lucca). Dr. Higueróa, don Abbondio, and fra Galdino represent for their authors the failure or insufficiency of certain, even prevalent ideologies of their times, and thus reveal a thematic relationship between the work of Gadda and Manzoni which has, at times, unfortunately been denied or overlooked.
Bibliography
Andreini, A. & M. Guglielminetti, C.E. Gadda: la coscienza infelice. Milan:Guerini, 1996.
De Lucca, R., Revealed Truth and Acquired Knowledge: Considerations on Manzoni and Gadda, in Modern Language Notes, 111, 1 (January 1996).
Gadda, C.E., La Cognizione del dolore, ed. by E. Manzotti. Turin: Einaudi, 1987.
Grignani, M.A., L’Argentina di Gadda fra biografia e straniamento, in EJGS 0/2000.
Manzoni, A., I promessi sposi, ed. by E. Raimondi e L. Bottoni. Milan: Principato, 1988.
Mattesini, F., Manzoni e Gadda. Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 1996.
Pecoraro, A., Gadda e Manzoni: il giallo della Cognizione del dolore. Pisa: ETS, 1996.
– Gadda. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1998.
Published by The Edinburgh Journal of Gadda Studies (EJGS)
ISSN 1476-9859
© 2001-2024 by Jennifer Brown & EJGS. First published in EJGS 1/2001. Italian 240, Graduate programme, Spring semester 2001, Harvard University.
Artwork © 2000-2024 by G. & F. Pedriali.
Framed image (with distortion): Gadda with his colleagues and students at the Liceo «Parini» in 1925.
All EJGS hyperlinks are the responsibility of the Chair of the Board of Editors.
EJGS may not be printed, forwarded, or otherwise distributed for any reasons other than personal use.
EJGS is a member of CELJ, The Council of Editors of Learned Journals.
Dynamically-generated word count for this file is 4733 words, the equivalent of 14 pages in print.