The Generalife

According to my new friend Washington Irving, who heard it one night about a hundred years ago at a noble feast in the Nasrid Palace, the palace and gardens of Generalife were built by one of Granada's early kings  in order to keep his young son and heir sequestered from the world so that he would remain ignorant about that idle passion called love, and therefore not ruin his life. A good plan, that, until the King hired an all-knowing sage to teach the prince, threatening the sage with his life if he gave his charge even a hint of what love is all about. The wise tutor kept his word, but he made the fatal mistake of teaching the prince the language of the birds. When the prince reached the tender and hormonal age of 20 he was locked in the highest tower (I thought only maidens were locked in towers?) for writing sonnets to the trees (ah, perhaps that explains it), and chanced to meet with a dove who flew in and explained to him about the, er, well, the birds and the bees.

Ahem.

I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Sangria was flowing rather freely at that feast of Irving's. Nevertheless the Generalife (pronounced hen-er-al-LEE-feh), from the Arabic Jannat al-'Arif‎ or Architect's Garden, was built in the early 1300's as a summer palace and retreat from the drama of courtly life at the Alhambra. To reach the gardens, we walked through what was once the orchard and market gardens dating back to the 1200's. Now they contain geometrically clipped cypress and more water channels. Entering an outer courtyard filled with Jasmine instantly gave me a headache. The scent of the bloom was so thick you had to slice your way through it with a scimitar.  This would have been where visitors parked their horses and I wondered if the walls had been papered with such a fragrant vine in the days of the Sultans to mask other more equine scents? Up a short flight of stairs is the entrance to the Generalife gardens. Perhaps the most famous view of the palace is this one:

This is the Patio de la Acequia (Court of the Water Channel). The parallel jets down either side are modern, added in the 19th century. Archaeologists doing excavations after a 1958 fire discovered that the pool did have at least 12 jets in its original design, so the addition of the present spouts is in keeping with the historical renovation of the palace. Originally the garden was laid out in a Char-Bagh style with four sunken flower beds bisected by the water channel which draws water from the Alhambra's Royal Canal (Acequia Real), which provided the palace's water supply, and perpendicularly by a stone walkway at the center of the canal that leads through the arcade into a mirador on the hillside overlooking the gardens and orchards below.

The open arcade is new as well. During the Christian era, sometime in the mid 1600's, the solid wall on that side was replaced with the corridor of repeating arches. Before the arches, the mirador would have been the only place where one could look outside. I tried to imagine how this would have changed the feeling of the space, from an almost entirely enclosed intimate courtyard to the semi-open space it is now and wished for a genie to take me back in time to experience it first hand. Like the Alhambra, decoration of the Generalife was elegant and intricate - Moorish carvings, filigreed lattice, opulent apartments, cooling water features outside and in.

At either end of the courtyard are two small pavilions once used as palace apartments. One has a view of the entire city of Granada and the valley of the Darro River, flowing in the distance below the palace. Throughout its history, many a forlorn prince and princess have sat imprisoned in the Generalife's lofty towers and gazed longingly at the world beyond. This one was no exception...

Through what was once one of the royal bedchambers is another arcade dating back to the 1500's which looks out to the Courtyard of the Cypress or Sultan's Court. This area used to be the palace bath and was converted to a garden during another royal remodel. The water in this garden comes from the Royal Water Channel where it continues through the middle of the Patio de la Acequia on the other side of the wall. From there the water flows out into the market gardens and orchards below where it joins a third water channel called The Third Water Channel (catchy, huh!).

Another legend has it that a Sultana was engaged in an assignation with a knight from the rival Abencerrajes clan under a large cypress tree, kept from falling down now by a large metal brace, when her husband the Sultan came on the scene. The Sultan was so incensed that he massacred all 37 male members of the rival family in a hall of the Alhambra that is now known as the Hall of the Abencerrajes. Reputedly the stains in the fountain basin there are all that remain of that bloody day.

In contrast, the floor of the Sultan's Courtyard is paved in a beautiful pebble mosaic with white pebbles taken from the river Darro and black ones from the river Genil, the only stains here being the ones left by decades of tourists' feet.

On a terrace above the courtyard is a water staircase leading up to yet another small palace, converted to a chapel. The banisters themselves are carved rills which the water runs down and there are basins in the circular landings with water bubbling from the center. Visitors can't resist trailing their hands in the cold water as they ascend the stairs. Some sources say this ingenious water feature is not common to Moorish gardens but was invented by the Egyptians and have been found in Romanized gardens, which is where the Moors probably got the idea. This is the entry point of the water diverted from the river Darro that feeds both the Generalife and Alhambra complexes. Throughout both sites water is celebrated with ornate yet practically functional channels and rills, fountains and basins, all once fed by gravity.

Reaching the top of the water stair, you almost immediately start down again via another stairwell covered in Wisteria. Here terraced gardens filled with clipped hedges, roses, fruit trees, and - yes - more water, step their way down the hillside. At the bottom you enter a corridor covered by Oleander trained to arch over the walkway, providing a shady walk back to the main entrance of the palace grounds. Through the leafy canopy you can catch glimpses of the gardens and fortress of the Alhambra beyond.

I'll bet you're wondering what happened to our love-struck prince? Through his friend the dove, he was introduced to a portrait of a likewise imprisoned princess in a distant land. He escaped the tower, fled in search of his beloved and with the help of a recalcitrant owl and a parrot who was, according to Irving, on very good terms with itself, found her and competed for her hand. Wearing a magic suit of armor and riding a bewitched horse, he vanquished the other princes and the king in a mad rampage which sent the princess into an incurable swoon.

The bereaved prince vowed never to show his face again but when he heard that the king was offering anything within his kingdom as a reward for curing the princess of her delirium, he then dressed himself as a traveler and by playing a little music and reciting the love letter he had sent her via the dove, she snapped out of it and they rode away on a magic carpet - his reward for bringing her back to her former self - and they lived happily ever after.

I'd sure like to know what was in that Sangria, Mr. Irving!

The Alhambra

When I first saw the fortified castle at Edinburgh brooding over the city atop a hunk of volcanic rock I thought, "Hey! Those Scots really know how to build a fort!". Now I'm wondering if they hired the same consulting firm as the ancient Moors because the Alhambra has some striking similarities. It likewise sits atop a rocky promontory, dominating the Granada skyline. Both contain once opulent but still impressive royal palaces. Both were centers of military activity, execution, murder, romantic intrigue, history making ceremony, and religion. Both are heavily fortified to protect against invasion. And both are absolutely jaw-droppingly magnificent.

The Alhambra's name comes from the Arabic Al-Ḥamrā', which literally means "the red one". The complete form was Al-Qal'at al-Ḥamrā' or "the red fortress" from the color of the red clay of which it was constructed but the ancient Moorish poets called it "a pearl set in emeralds" because the whitewashed walls contrasted with the surrounding forest. From the outside all you see is a solid wall punctuated with watch towers and a few balconies. There is nothing to give you even a hint that there are lush gardens and lavish palaces within.

It was another hot Spanish summer day when we visited the Alhambra and I was struck by the way water was used to convey a sense of cool serenity in the midst of this baking "stony pile". Everywhere we went, water flowed silently in rills along the pathways, burbled cheerfully down stair-step channels, clapped joyfully in fountain jets, and waited serenely in shadowy reflecting pools. Everywhere there was water, carefully controlled.

At the center of the complex is the Palacios Nazaries, or Nasrid Palace, which is actually a series of palaces. Built from the late 13th century, the decoration of the palaces contains some of the best of Moorish and Andalusian art and architecture.

Intricate carved stonework, Islamic horseshoe arches, colorful tessellated tile mosaics and beautifully painted walls stop your breath at every turn.

Most of the palace buildings are quadrangular in structure and contain an open central courtyard. The interior walls facing the courtyards are decorated with columns, arcades, fountains or pools, intricate latticework, and flower beds. One such courtyard is the Patio de los Arrayanes (Court of the Myrtles). Another name is the Patio de la Alberca (Court of the Blessing or Court of the Pond), from the Arabic word birka, meaning "pool". At one end of the birka a single jet rises ruffling the surface of the water. The jet wasn't running the day we were there so the surface of the pool offered a still reflection of the surrounding architecture. Notice the latticework on the upper balcony. It is said that the King's harem could watch the goings on in the courtyard below while remaining modestly concealed.

The Hall of Comares, otherwise known as the Throne Room, is the largest room in the Tower of Comares. It was here in 1492 that Christopher Columbus waited on Their Royal Personages Ferdinand and Isabella, dazzling them with his PowerPoint presentations and colored pie charts to convince them that funding his voyage around the world was really a pretty good idea. And aren't we glad he did!

The domed ceiling in the Hall of Comares is an artistic and structural masterpiece of inlaid circles, crowns, and stars. A room fit for a King - or Queen - indeed.

Through the Hall of the Muqarnas is the Patio of Lions, famed for its fountain featuring 12 spouting lions. The fountain and courtyard is currently undergoing an extensive renovation which means I'll have to go back when it's complete!

The ceiling in the Hall of the Abencerrages will inspire awe and a sore neck, because all you want to do is stand there and stare up at it! The most notable feature is the eight-point stalactite star of the cupola that spreads out into eight trunk-like stalactites carved from stone. Sunlight streams through latticed windows to illuminate the intricate scroll work on the walls.

In the early 1800's our compatriot Washington Irving lived for a time as a guest of the palace. It was during this time that he enjoyed leisurely strolls through the grounds, midnight ramblings through deserted apartments, and long talks with his Spanish factotum, who regaled him with many a tall tale of the Alhambra and its inhabitants. It was in Mr. Irving's apartment that our own classmate met with a rabid pre-teen Spanish fan following who insisted on posing with him for a picture!

Every time we passed their group afterward, they would point and call his name, giggling! I've never seen a guy blush so easily!

Throughout the palace garden courtyards could be seen and heard from every window or balcony. Always there was the sound of water, always a shady glade offering a cool respite from the summer heat.

The Alhambra is one of those places so steeped in history that it positively drips from the rafters, and every room, every nook, every piece of carved and painted stone has a story behind it. If you have the immense fortune to go there, plan on two full days to see it all. And one night. I can't wait to go back again and spend more time investigating it. Having seen it the once, I can't even come close to doing it justice here so I'll leave you with some of the images that made me stop and give up ever finding the words to describe what I felt.

Yup. Those ancient folks sure knew how to build a fort!

Sublimity

sub·lime: [suh-blahym] adjective, noun, verb, -limed, -lim·ing.
–adjective
1. elevated or lofty in thought, language, etc.: Paradise Lost is sublime poetry.

2. impressing the mind with a sense of grandeur or power; inspiring awe, veneration, etc.: Switzerland has sublime scenery.

3. Archaic: raised high; high up.

–verb (used with object)
1. to make higher, nobler, or purer.

—Synonyms 1. exalted, noble. 2. magnificent, superb, august, grand, gorgeous, resplendent, imposing, majestic.

In his Tales of the Alhambra, my new friend Washington Irving wrote, "There is something...in the sternly simple features of the Spanish landscape that impresses the soul with a feeling of sublimity". In my opinion, that couldn't be more true than when beholding the landscape of Granada and the imposing walls of the Alhambra high up on the rocky hillside.

If the name Washington Irving doesn't ring a bell, perhaps you'll know him by the tales he penned that take place a little closer to home, such as Rip Van Winkle or The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I can hear the light bulbs coming on and the collective, "Ooooohhhh! THAT Washington Irving!" (I've been to Sleepy Hollow, by the way, and felt a little thrill in the ribcage when I saw the sign upon entering the decidedly awake and utterly charming little hamlet.)

Well, in addition to his success as a story teller, essayist, editor, soldier, and all-around busy guy, he was also a diplomat and traveled extensively throughout Spain as its U.S. minister in the early to mid 1800's. I picked up The Tales of the Alhambra while visiting the Alhambra and have been reading and re-reading it ever since. It was in the room in Alhambra's Nasrid Palace with a plaque dedicated to Irving and his prodigeous scribbling that my classmate Hudson encountered an impressive fan following of Spanish pre-teens.

But I've gone too far ahead already - I'm supposed to be telling you about our visit to the Alhambra: The city of Granada, the Alhambra, the Generalife - all were by far my favorite part of visiting Spain. The history is awe-inspiring, to say nothing of the architecture and craftsmanship that went into building the fortress, palaces, and their gardens. I wish I had Irving's way with words and could describe it the way he did, but I don't so I'll let him introduce the place to you:

"The peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace is its power of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory and the imagination....Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest and the traces of Moorish elegance and splendour exist in almost their original brilliancy.

Earthquakes have shaken the foundations of this pile and rent its rudest towers, yet see, not one of those slender columns has been displaced, not an arch of that light and fragile colonnade has given way, and all the fairy fretwork of those domes, apparently as unsubstantial as the crystal fabrics of a morning's frost, yet exist after the lapse of centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand of the Moslem artist.

I write in the midst of the mementoes of the past, in the fresh hour of early morning, in the fated Hall of the Abencerrages. The blood-stained fountain, the legendary monument of their massacre, is before me; the lofty jet almost casts its dew upon my paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale of violence and blood with the gentle and peaceful scene around! Everything here appears calculated to inspire kind and happy feelings, for everything is delicate and beautiful. The very light falls tenderly from above through the lantern of a dome tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands.

Through the ample and fretted arch of the portal I behold the Court of Lions with brilliant sunshine gleaming along its colonnades and sparkling in its fountains. The lively swallow dives into the Court and then surging upwards darts away twittering over the roofs; the busy bee toils humming among the flower-beds and painted butterflies hover from plant to plant and flutter up and sport with each other in the sunny air. It needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some pensive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of Oriental luxury.

He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shadows of evening temper the brightness of the Court and throw a gloom in to the surrounding halls. Then nothing can be more serenely melancholy or more in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur.

***

"To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and poetical, the Alhambra of Granada is as much as object of veneration as is the Kaaba or sacred house of Mecca to all true Moslem pilgrims. How many legends and traditions, true and fabulous, of love and war and chivalry are associated with this romantic pile! The following papers are the result of my reveries and researches during that delicious thraldrom. If they have the power of imparting any of the witching charms of the place to the imagination of the reader, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in the legendary halls of the Alhambra."

From The Tales of the Alhambra by Washington Irving, published 1832.