Elisa
También esto pasaráElisa is a close friend of Blanca whose care often takes the form of analysis, but whose friendship is not merely intellectual or conciliatory. She offers practical support after Blanca’s mother dies, then challenges Blanca when she sees her treating other people’s feelings as incidental. Their confrontation exposes both the force of their bond and the strain between Elisa’s concern for relational responsibility and Blanca’s defense of personal freedom.
Friendship and Practical Care
Elisa belongs to a trio with Blanca and Sofía, though the three rarely meet together; Blanca observes that groups of three do not work even in friendship. Their relationships have been passionate and conflict-prone, but they quieted during Blanca’s mother’s long illness. Blanca wonders when that earlier intensity will return, a question that gives the friends’ renewed friction a history rather than making it seem like a sudden rupture.
At a meal with Blanca and Sofía, Elisa advises Blanca to have an item cleaned and put away on the highest shelf of a closet, leaving the decision about what to do with it until later. The counsel is modest and concrete: it makes room for delay rather than demanding that Blanca settle what the object means while grieving. Around them, Sofía brings the equipment for making cocktails, Elisa has brought sushi, and Blanca contributes the remains of dried-out cheese from the refrigerator. Their toast to life, friendship, and summer sits beside Blanca’s uncertainty about the future. Elisa’s contribution to this gathering is neither a grand consolation nor an attempt to erase that uncertainty, but a practical suggestion and her presence among the friends.
An Analytical Temperament
Elisa tends to turn personal subjects into intellectual ones. When Sofía asks about her relationship with Damián, Elisa says that he is sexually demanding and that she is exhausted. The disclosure is candid, yet Blanca characterizes Elisa as capable of treating even sex with a new boyfriend as a serious intellectual topic. Sofía, by contrast, makes whatever is being discussed festive and revolves it around herself. Blanca frames these differences as each person’s persistent refrain: a characteristic manner that can be quieted but does not disappear.
That contrast also shapes the friends’ discussion of Blanca’s plan to spend several days in Cadaqués. Blanca presents the trip as an impulsive escape into sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Sofía applauds the idea, while Elisa responds with concern and an extended analysis of drugs, Freud, grief, and the maternal figure, emphasizing the dangers Blanca may face. The exchange shows Elisa’s habit of interpreting a decision through its psychological and emotional consequences, even when Sofía is more inclined to celebrate it. It does not make Elisa simply a scold: her concern is directed toward a friend whose loss she knows is still acute.
The Dispute over Damián
After an evening with friends, Blanca wakes with a severe hangover and finds Elisa waiting for her. Blanca greets her warmly, recalling the previous night as fun and suggesting that they repeat it. Elisa does not join in that lightness. She looks tired and worried, and says that something she saw the night before troubled and saddened her: Blanca saying goodnight to Damián. Blanca laughs at first, thinking Elisa is joking, then explains that Damián kissed her on the mouth, as he always does.
Elisa’s response makes clear that the gesture has changed meaning for her because she is Damián’s girlfriend. She objects to Blanca’s idea of a new social order in which people understand one another, kiss whom they please, move freely in and out of relationships, and have children across those arrangements. Elisa argues that such freedom only works when other people do not matter. When Blanca denies that indifference, Elisa sharpens the accusation: she says Blanca behaves as though almost nobody matters to her apart from her children and perhaps her mother. The conflict is not simply about whether a kiss occurred; it concerns what Blanca’s apparent ease with intimacy costs the people around her.
Elisa also addresses Blanca’s grief directly. She acknowledges that Blanca’s mother was old and very ill, suffered during her final months, and caused Blanca pain, while insisting that she had also lived a full life: she loved and was loved, had success, friends, and children, enjoyed herself, and did what she wanted. Blanca’s sadness and disorientation are real, Elisa argues, but do not give her the right to overturn everyone else’s life. In this account, Elisa is not denying the loss; she is resisting the use of loss as an answer to the harm Blanca may cause.
Friendship under Pressure
Blanca answers by attacking Elisa’s character. She calls her a coward, connecting that judgment to Elisa’s refusal to try drugs, her decision not to have children, and her need always to have a boyfriend. Blanca presents those choices as signs of fear and describes Elisa’s life as confined. Elisa counters with a class-based rebuke: she calls Blanca privileged, says she lives on rent, has never been in a public hospital, and complains when the friends meet in poorer neighborhoods, including the one where Elisa lives. She turns Blanca’s image of the cage back on her, accusing her of inhabiting a fantasy world far removed from reality.
The exchange leaves neither woman in the position of detached judge. Elisa’s insistence that other people matter is sharpened by her own intimate stake in Damián, while Blanca’s defense of freedom meets Elisa’s insistence that freedom has consequences for friends and lovers. Their attacks draw on knowledge of one another’s habits and choices, making the quarrel both unusually personal and continuous with the passionate, conflict-prone friendship Blanca remembers. Elisa’s role in the story is therefore not only to analyze Blanca’s grief, but to oppose the moment when that grief and Blanca’s appetite for unconstrained living threaten to become an excuse for overlooking the people closest to her.


