{"id":12319,"date":"2021-07-08T07:27:37","date_gmt":"2021-07-08T10:27:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/?p=12319"},"modified":"2021-10-20T10:49:59","modified_gmt":"2021-10-20T13:49:59","slug":"between-mystery-and-politics","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/en\/2021\/07\/08\/between-mystery-and-politics\/","title":{"rendered":"Between Mystery and Politics"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The numerous commentators who not only in Brazil but also throughout the world investigate Clarice Lispector\u2019s work encounter several aspects to highlight in her multifaceted writing.1<\/a><\/sup> From the fruitful tension between transcendence and contingence to the profound and refined attention to the human condition, one can encounter an immense variety of dimensions in her body of writings. There is, however, an aspect of Clarice\u2019s texts that is \u2013 it seems to us \u2013 less observed. It concerns the social and political sensitivity of the writer. And because it seems to us extremely important, we will dwell precisely on this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clarice reveals in her texts \u2013 novels, chronicles, or short stories \u2013 a true openness to the other and its difference and, above all, its vulnerability. Even characters like GH, a wealthy bourgeois woman, will learn to commune with the whole in her maid\u2019s room.   But in a special way, Clarice\u2019s gaze will dwell on and identify with the northeastern girl Macab\u00e9a, whose cavity-ridden body and life of \u201cless\u201d lead her by the hand in the narrative at the same time that they question her crudely. This last novel, so to speak, \u201crescues\u201d this feature of writing in a prophetic and explicit manner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is she herself who says in one of her chronicles, \u201cLiterature and justice:\u201d \u201cEver since I have come to know myself, the social problem has been more important to me than any other issue: in Recife the black shanty towns were the first truth that I encountered.\u201d Always inhabited by the thirst for justice, Clarice declares that this is a constitutive feature of her identity, a feeling so obvious and basic that it cannot surprise her. And that is also why she cannot write about it, since for her it never concerned a search, but a confirmation of something existing in herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the same time, the conscious and lucid writer is amazed by the fact that this obviousness which inhabits her does not occur with the same obviousness to all of her peers. As Silviano Santiago affirms, \u201cthe more the Jewish immigrant adapts and conforms to the new national frame, the more indignant and pessimist she becomes with regard to the world as presented to her.\u201d Injustice is something that she internally abhors, and Clarice openly declares so on several occasions. She even takes concrete actions against this injustice, such as, for example going to the March of the One Hundred Thousand, participating in clandestine political gatherings, etc.  Silviano Santiago calls this attitude \u201cparticipant indignation, declaring it to be a matter of survival in a society under military dictatorship and a state of exception.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Clarice\u2019s perspective on injustice and evil is personalized. It considers a person and from him or her it arrives at the collective that he or she represents. This is how the narrator of The Hour of the Star<\/em> captures the desperate gaze of a northeastern girl in the middle of the crowd.2<\/a><\/sup> And this gaze brings him discomfort and compassion, as he compares the girl\u2019s situation to his own, living in abundance and comfort and realizing that the northeastern woman represents the majority of the population in the country where she lives.3<\/a><\/sup> That is how Macab\u00e9a is born, from the writing of the narrator who is Clarice Lispector\u2019s character, but who is also Clarice herself, whose gaze captures the suffering and pain of others, the fruit of injustice, and deposits them in her book. From there, the narrator shapes Macab\u00e9a\u2019s body, which is oppressed by poverty and sadness. He confesses his discomfort and difficulty in undertaking this adventure of narrating Macab\u00e9a: \u201cWith this story I\u2019m going to sensitize myself, and I am well aware that each day is a day stolen from death. I am not an intellectual, I write with my body.\u201d4<\/a><\/sup> And he adds: \u201cIf I know almost everything about Macab\u00e9a it\u2019s because I once caught the eye of a jaundiced northeastern girl. That glance gave me every inch of her.\u201d

Macab\u00e9a only has weaknesses and subtractions in her life. She is a woman, she is a northeastern migrant alone in the big city, she is a virgin, innocuous, dreary, ugly. The narrator describes her \u201cslumped shoulders like those of a darning-woman,\u201d with a \u201ccavity-ridden body.\u201d She was \u201ca fluke. A fetus tossed in the trash in a newspaper.\u201d  Writing about her causes discomfort, since the writing is heavy with brutality. \u201cI promise you that if I could I would make things better. I\u2019m well aware that saying the typist has a body full of holes is more brutal than any bad word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The narrator actually sees in the humiliated poverty of the northeastern girl something incomprehensible, greater than herself. The girl\u2019s helplessness makes Clarice approach a profound mystery: \u201cWhy should I write about a young girl whose poverty isn\u2019t even adorned? Maybe because within her there\u2019s a seclusion and also because in the poverty of body and spirit I touch holiness, I who want to feel the breath of my beyond. To be more than I am, since I am so little.\u201d This poverty that diminishes, that oppresses, that belittles, is imagined by the narrator to perhaps be a choice on the part of Macab\u00e9a herself and therefore the source of her infinite dignity: \u201cMaybe the northeastern girl had already concluded that life is extremely uncomfortable, a soul that doesn\u2019t quite fit into the body, even a flimsy soul like hers… Because, no matter how bad her situation, she didn\u2019t want to be deprived of herself, she wanted to be herself\u2026 So she protected herself from death by living less, consuming so little of her life that she\u2019d never run out.\u201d This deadly \u201csavings\u201d is more painful for Clarice than anything else in her character, since it constitutes a brutal denunciation of the injustice that victimizes the northeastern girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The narrator confesses how difficult it was to make his character die. And this occurs because, touching her poverty in body and soul, he feels that he has touched holiness, the virgin core of the human condition that has nothing of his own, nothing upon which to draw and is destined for contempt, oppression, and humiliation until the end of her life. That is why he describes her hit-and-run (a term he uses in place of death) like this: \u201cShe lay helpless on the side of the street, perhaps taking a break from all these emotions, and saw among the stones lining the gutter the wisps of grass green as the most tender human hope.\u201d And the feeling of dying is one of exaltation and not of despair: \u201cToday, she thought, today is the first day of my life: I was born.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Death is what finally makes Macab\u00e9a into a star, like the movie stars she so admired. In death she received the kiss, the definitive embrace. And above all, she rested from the painful and useless effort to live. The last word that comes out of her mouth is \u201cfuture.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Among the cobblestones and passersby, her struck body agonizes. And the narrator \u2013Clarice, actually \u2013 sees the pain of this poor girl as an epiphany. \u201cShe\u2019d gone to seek in the very deep and black core of her self the breath of life that God gives us.\u201d Macab\u00e9a, just like all those who day by day seek life in the midst of oppression and injustice, now receives the embrace of death as a joy. \u201cThen \u2014 lying there \u2014 she had a moist and supreme happiness, since she had been born for the embrace of death. Death which is my favorite character in this story.\u201d She wishes for life and knows that only death will give it to her. Hearing Macab\u00e9a say her last word, \u201cfuture,\u201d the narrator asks himself: \u201cWould she have longed for the future?\u201d

Life triumphs in Macab\u00e9a, about whose death the narrator exclaims: \u201cYes, that\u2019s how I wanted to announce that \u2014 that Macab\u00e9a died. The Prince of Darkness won. Finally the coronation.\u201d The cavity-ridden body was now a luminous, transfigured body. The hour of the star had sounded and Macab\u00e9a shone upon the darkness that could not swallow her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The narrator, humiliated in his conscience, confirms that he was actually the one who died. Macab\u00e9a \u2013 now \u201cfree of herself and of us\u201d \u2013 killed him.  Clarice\u2019s social sensitivity, her political conscience, sees in the diminished life of the northeastern girl the grim work of the injustice that plagues the country that is her own. And because she cannot do away with it, she writes. She prophetically denounces the poverty that is a mystery of suffering and holiness of the victims who every day experience death as the only thing that will one day finally free them from the life that they did not choose but are condemned to live.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is symptomatic and eloquent that Clarice\u2019s last novel, The Hour of the Star<\/em>, is so clearly marked by her gaze to the margin, to the northeastern girl who incarnates the marginality of poverty and of contempt. Gazing at Macab\u00e9a and her life of \u201cless,\u201d the writer dies from her alienation and is transformed, learning to be aware of her privileges and of the oppression of the poor who constitute the overwhelming majority of the population in the country where she lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The writer\u2019s \u201cparticipant indignation\u201d occurs when she looks and sees a body without a place to be, a body that is hardly comfortable in life, a body that does not find a meaning and whose plenitude only occurs in death. In this star that is dark on the outside and suddenly bright on the inside, which has neither grace nor beauty to attract the eye, which is like hair in soup that turns the stomach and spoils the appetite, is the secret, the mystery of life and of its Creator that has always fascinated and challenged the Jewish Clarice Lispector.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\n

Notes<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

1<\/sup> Translated from the Portuguese by Marco Alexandre de Oliveira.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2<\/sup> About The Hour of the Star, see our article \u201cVia Crucis e gozo pascal,\u201d in Geraldo de Mori and Virginia Buarque (Eds.) Escritas de ser no corpo, SP, Loyola, 2017, p. 105-122.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

3<\/sup> The Hour of the Star, op. cit., p. 15: \u201cBecause on a street in Rio de Janeiro I glimpsed in the air the feeling of perdition on the face of a northeastern girl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

4<\/sup> This quote and all others belong to the book The Hour of the Star.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Clarice reveals in her texts \u2013 novels, chronicles, or short stories \u2013 a true openness to the other and its difference and, above all, its vulnerability. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":21,"featured_media":12315,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[564,1],"tags":[565,621],"class_list":["post-12319","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essays","category-uncategorized","tag-a-hora-da-estrela-en","tag-a-paixao-segundo-g-h-en"],"yoast_head":"\nBetween Mystery and Politics - Clarice Lispector<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/2021\/07\/08\/between-mystery-and-politics\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Between Mystery and Politics - 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