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In his treatise on falconry, Zuniga mentions the Bahari falcon, propagated principally among the mountains of Penacerrada. My ancestors originally called themselves Martinez de Baroja. One Martin had a son who was known as Martinez. The Martinez de Barojas lived in that country for many years; they were hidalgos, Christians of old stock. And there is still a family of the name in Penacerrada.
It would be difficult to find two men who, dealing with the same ideas, bring to them more antagonistic attitudes of mind than Baroja and Blasco Ibanez. For all his appearance of modernism, Blasco really belongs to the generation before 1898.
In the eighteenth century, one of the family, my great-grandfather Rafael, doubtless possessing more initiative, or having more of the hawk in him than the others, grew tired of ploughing up the earth, and left the village, turning pharmacist, setting up in 1803 at Oyarzun, in Guipuzcoa. This Rafael shortened his name and signed himself Rafael de Baroja.
For all his concern with current questions, his accurate news instinct, he is fundamentally a romantic of the last century, with more than one plain touch of the downright operatic. Baroja is a man of a very different sort. A novelist undoubtedly as skilful as Blasco and a good deal more profound, he lacks the quality of enthusiasm and thus makes a more restricted appeal.
The professors of my childhood and my youth rise up before my eyes like the ghost of Banquo, and proclaim: "Baroja, you will never amount to anything." When I go down to the seashore, the waves lap my feet and murmur: "Baroja, you will never amount to anything."
Baroja is the analyst, the critic, almost the cynic. If he leans toward any definite doctrine at all, it is toward the doctrine that the essential ills of man are incurable, that all the remedies proposed are as bad as the disease, that it is almost a waste of time to bother about humanity in general. This agnostic attitude, of course, is very far from merely academic, monastic.
Francis Xavier, Don Teodosio de Goni, Pero Lopez de Ayala, Aviraneta a saint, a revered worthy, an historian, a conspirator these are our family gods. Now let me take my stand with Chateaubriand as attaching no importance to such things. Baroja is a hamlet in the province of Alava in the district of Penacerrada. According to Fernandez Guerra, it is an Iberian name derived from Asiatic Iberia.
Martinez Ruiz wrote me a long letter concerning the book by return mail; on the following day he sent another. Poveda handed me the letters to read and I was filled with surprise and joy. Some weeks later, returning from the National Library, Martinez Ruiz, whom I knew by sight, came up to me on the Recoletos. "Are you Baroja?" he asked. "Yes." "I am Martinez Ruiz."
"Come," shouted Dicenta, "we shall settle this matter at once." "I have nothing to settle with you," replied the young man. "Yes, sir, you have; you have stated in an article that my ideas are not revolutionary." "I never stated anything of the kind." "What is that?" "No, sir." "But aren't you Pio Baroja?" "I am not, sir." Dicenta turned on his heel and marched back to his seat.
The Zornozas boast an escutcheon which is embellished with a band, a number of wolves, and a legend whose import I do not recall. Indeed, wolves occur in all the escutcheons of the Baroja, Alzate and Zornoza families, in so far as I have been able to discover, and I take them to be more or less authentic. We have wolves passant, wolves rampant, and wolves mordant.
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