{"id":3909,"date":"2017-12-21T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2017-12-21T02:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/tornar-se-notas-sobre-a-vida-secreta-de-clarice-lispector\/"},"modified":"2020-06-08T15:15:50","modified_gmt":"2020-06-08T18:15:50","slug":"tornar-se-notas-sobre-a-vida-secreta-de-clarice-lispector","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/en\/2017\/12\/21\/tornar-se-notas-sobre-a-vida-secreta-de-clarice-lispector\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cBecoming\u201d: Notes on Clarice Lispector\u2019s \u201csecret life\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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1.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

In this year in which we commemorate The Hour of the Star<\/em>, the entry of Clarice Lispector and her alter ego <\/em>(one of many), Macab\u00e9a, into the \u201cpr\u00f3pria profundeza (\u2026) \u2013 a floresta\u201d, the profusion of factual explanations for this or that character, narrative element or writing situation, in bonding and plastering a work already marked by biographical reading, one seems to lose sight of the essential lesson repeatedly stated by this writer and her writing known precisely for the rarity of plot, of facts. If the formulation of such a lesson appears in Agua Viva<\/em> (\u201cN\u00e3o vou ser autobiogr\u00e1fica. Quero ser \u2018bio’\u201d), it is in the \u201cExplanation\u201d of the opening of The Via Crucis of the Body <\/em>that it manifests <\/em>(a key term in Clarice\u2019s poetics) <\/em>itself <\/em>in all its radicalism. The very unmarked position in relation to the other thirteen texts that comprise the volume, which makes it impossible to distinguish graphically or by means of a paratextual element whether it is a preface (by the author) or already a fiction (by a narrator) is reinforced by what \u201cExplanation\u201d says: \u201c\u00c9 um livro de treze hist\u00f3rias. Mas podia ser de quatorze. Eu n\u00e3o quero. Porque estaria desrespeitando a confid\u00eancia de um homem simples que me contou a sua vida. Ele \u00e9 charreteiro numa fazenda. E disse-me: para n\u00e3o derramar sangue, separei-me de minha mulher, ela se desencaminhou e desencaminhou minha filha de dezesseis anos. Ele tem um filho de dezoito anos que nem quer ouvir falar no nome da pr\u00f3pria m\u00e3e. E assim s\u00e3o as coisas\u201d. The fourteenth story, told in the same gesture in which its omission is announced \u2013 an unconfident confidence \u2013, thus resembles \u201cthe fifth story\u201d and eponymous titled story in The Foreign Legion<\/em>: the last, or first, of the stories is the story of the making of the stories, not only implying (folding inward) the life in the work, but also explaining (folding outward) the fiction in reality. In this sense, it is worth recalling that, according to the explanation, the genesis of The Via Crucis<\/em> came from a commission for \u201cthree stories that (\u2026) really happened<\/em>\u201d (emphasis added), and those are, according to the author (or narrator), \u201cMiss Algrave\u201d, \u201cVia Crucis\u201d and \u201cThe Body\u201d, the three parts of the book that are furthest from the proposal, for they consist in, first of all, the parodic rewriting of other texts: in order, mystical experience of Catholic women, the incarnation of Christ, and a short story by Edgar Allen Poe, \u201cThe Tell-Tale Heart\u201d, which Clarice had already translated (or rather, rewritten, giving it the title \u201cThe Denouncing Heart\u201d). Like \u201cUseless Explanation\u201d, from \u201cBack of the Drawer\u201d, the second part of The Foreign Legion<\/em>, which gained autonomy in Not to Forget<\/em>, the \u201cExplanation\u201d complicates more than it supplies a key to reading for the relation of life to literary work and for the genesis (the birth) of fiction in reality \u2013 which was already foreshadowed in the book\u2019s epigraphs, mixing Biblical passages and one attributed to \u201ca character of mine still without a name\u201d and another \u201cI don\u2019t know whose it is\u201d. Thus, on the one hand, Clarice makes <\/em>of a fiction of Poe (or takes it as) a story that really happened <\/em>(what is written has happened, what one writes happens), in a paradoxical literary movement of deliteraturization, masterfully elucidated by Jo\u00e3o Camillo Penna, and that appears already in Near to the Wild Heart, <\/em>when Steppenwolf, a character in the book of the same name by Hesse, and therefore a literary reference<\/em>, figures as a life memory<\/em> of Joana\u2019s. On the other hand, in a game with the editor\u2019s commission, she inserts into this book of stories, of fictions, three <\/em>other stories (\u201cThe Man Who Showed Up\u201d, \u201cDay After Day\u201d and \u201cFor the Time Being\u201d) that sound, by the diction and resumption of dates and facts mentioned in the \u201cExplanation\u201d, like non-fiction, in every regard close to Clarice\u2019s chronicles. That is, the writer at the same time complies to the letter and doubles the bet placed by the editor to fictionalize real facts: indeed, from the very opening of the book, as we have seen, life becomes fiction, but what is fictionalized (or realized) are not only certain facts, but the writing of the book itself, the commission and its realization, the life of the writer and of writing, in sum, the very relation between life and literary work, reality and fiction. It\u2019s as if, for Clarice, literary fiction, the \u201cas if\u201d, constituted a two-way street, through which the non-existent gains  life<\/em> only to the degree that \u2018real life\u2019 becomes unreal, that is, it occurs from a recreation of the given, as we can see in this famous passage in which the birth of writing coincides with the non-birth (death) of the writer, or rather, with reciprocal transformation (and intersection) \u2013 a face-to-face \u2013 of reality and of fiction: \u201cEscrever \u00e9 tantas vezes lembrar-se do que nunca existiu. Como conseguirei saber do que nem ao menos sei? assim: como se me lembrasse. Com um esfor\u00e7o de mem\u00f3ria<\/em>, como se eu nunca tivesse nascido. Nunca nasci, nunca vivi: mas eu me lembro, e a lembran\u00e7a \u00e9 em carne viva\u201d (emphasis in the original).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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2.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The \u201cExplanation\u201d appears to poetically formulate a much sought after and worked for solution, combined and of financial origin, to a double problem which plagued her: the necessity to write cr\u00f4nicas <\/em>every day, and, therefore, to \u2018talk about oneself\u2019, take<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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3.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

If, as Joana states, \u201cnada existe que escape \u00e0 transfigura\u00e7\u00e3o\u201d, this feminine excess that is in everything that exists and that is confused with existence itself as a transformation (including, and this is the point, transformation of what is <\/em>the female), the problem of gender shows itself right away as a problem of genre, with the progressive transfiguration of the narrative form of the novel, which, starting in the third person (unmarked position, i.e., masculine, and, in a certain sense, isomorphic to the divine omniscience of the phallic, Father creator ex nihilo<\/em>) and with the father writing, gradually he is being contaminated by the female first person, the voice of Joana, who gives the last enunciation. The movement of formal transfiguration, the feminization of the narrative form, is not restricted to Near to the Wild Heart<\/em>, but traverses through Clarice\u2019s novels, having as its apex The Passion According to G.H.<\/em>, now entirely in the first person, with the protagonist narrator facing the challenge of not relying more on a \u201cthird person\u201d and on the eye that \u201cvigiava a minha vida\u201d (the omniscient third person?), and, to that end, and in return, inventing a male path: from a he that creates and talks about a she, we pass to a she that creates and talks about a he. In Agua Viva<\/em>, after this strange body (and, for this reason especially important) that is An Apprenticeship<\/em>, she resumes the structure of G.H., but now free of any plot other than the writing itself and her desire to capture the \u201cinstant-already\u201d, which is the \u201csemente viva\u201d, the \u201cinstantes de metamorfose\u201d, the exact moment of transformation, of becoming oneself. It\u2019s not startling, therefore, that it is not presented as a novel, but as \u201cfiction\u201d (or as \u201cthing\u201d, as H\u00e9lio P\u00f3lvora disparagingly\u2014but attuned to Clarice\u2014classified it in his opinion of Agua Viva <\/em>for the National Book Institute). But as nothing in Clarice escapes transfiguration, the final two long prose works, The Hour of the Star <\/em>and A Breath of Life<\/em> (also not \u201cnovels\u201d, but \u201cnovela\u201d and \u201cpulsations\u201d, respectively), produce a further twist: in them, we find ourselves facing first-person male narrators writing books about (creating) female characters, in a gesture packed with critique of the criticism that Clarice \u2013 and women\u2019s literature in general \u2013 suffered. Think, for example, of the old flaw of sentimental or intimate literature, that is, the accusation of always talking about oneself, and how Rodrigo S.M., \u201cthe most cynical narrator ever created by Clarice Lispector\u201d, according to \u00cdtalo Moriconi, cannot help but project himself and his stereotypes onto Macab\u00e9a, to the point where she sees his image when looking in the mirror \u2013 and this coming from an engaged writer, documentary, interested only in \u201cfatos sem literatura\u201d, and who complains that \u201cescritora mulher pode lacrimejar piegas\u201d. And, to talk about the \u201cnordestina amarelada\u201d, about the \u201ccadela vadia\u201d, in the name of Macab\u00e9a, Rodrigo S.M. must necessarily attribute to her not only the total absence of a voice and consciousness, as even, by narrative means, a name. On the other hand, however, it is emblematic that the final movement of A Breath of Life<\/em> resumes that of Near to the Wild Heart<\/em>, with \u00c2ngela, a character, coming from fiction to the world, and the Author losing the words, in an inversion of the fate of another creature, Macab\u00e9a:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cE agora sou obrigado a me interromper porque \u00c2ngela interrompeu a vida indo para a terra. Mas n\u00e3o a terra em que se \u00e9 enterrado e sim a terra em que se revive. Com chuva abundante nas florestas e o sussurro das ventanias.<\/p>

Quanto a mim, estou. Sim.<\/p>

\u2018Eu\u2026 eu\u2026 n\u00e3o. N\u00e3o posso acabar.\u2019<\/p>

Eu acho que..\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

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4.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

In a cr\u00f4nica<\/em> that confronts this series of issues\u2013 the classification of her books, in particular GH, the form of her narratives and the rarified plot, and the relation between life and fiction \u2013, Clarice exposes in a theoretical key the coming into the world of \u00c2ngela (and other characters, such as Joana, since Near to the Wild Heart <\/em>concludes in media res<\/em>, with the protagonist traveling, leaving the bonds of the family and the narrator to another, unknown place): \u201cO que \u00e9 fic\u00e7\u00e3o? \u00e9, em suma, suponho, a cria\u00e7\u00e3o de seres e acontecimentos que n\u00e3o existiram realmente mas de tal modo poderiam existir que se tornam vivos\u201d. It\u2019s not a matter of proximity <\/em>or appearance<\/em> of truth or reality (an internal or external verisimilitude), but of an entry into life<\/em>: fictional creation names, for Clarice, a certain intensification in the way of being of the possible or the nonexistent (\u201cde tal modo\u201d), which makes it <\/em>\u2013 transforms it\u2013 alive. In this sense, the Spinozist conception intoned by Joana, \u201cTudo \u00e9 um\u201d, should be read in the broadest sense possible \u2013 everything participates of the same substance, including fiction and nonexistent beings: \u201cTudo \u00e9 um, tudo \u00e9 um\u2026, entoara. A confus\u00e3o estava no entrela\u00e7amento do mar, do gato, do boi com ela mesma. A confus\u00e3o vinha tamb\u00e9m de que n\u00e3o sabia se entrara \u2018tudo \u00e9 um\u2019 ainda em pequena, diante do mar, ou depois, relembrando. No entanto a confus\u00e3o n\u00e3o trazia apenas gra\u00e7a, mas a realidade mesma. Parecia-lhe que se ordenasse e explicasse claramente o que sentira, teria destru\u00eddo a ess\u00eancia de \u2018tudo \u00e9 um\u2019. Na confus\u00e3o, ela era a pr\u00f3pria verdade inconscientemente, o que talvez desse mais poder-de-vida do que conhec\u00ea-la. A essa verdade que, mesmo revelada, Joana n\u00e3o poderia usar porque n\u00e3o formava o seu caule, mas a raiz, prendendo seu corpo a tudo o que n\u00e3o era mais seu, imponder\u00e1vel, impalp\u00e1vel.\u201d If everything participates in the same substance, if the difference between things is not of nature, of essence, but of manner, of form, then there follows a continuity not only between human and animal, but also between the organic, live, and the inorganic, supposedly dead, and, moreover, between existing and non-existent beings: it is thus a matter of questioning the prerogative of human exceptionality, of biological life and ontological superiority of the currently existing, and, at the same time, since everything participates in the same substance, changing only its form, to postulate the universal possibility of metamorphosis and transfiguration, in short, of life. \u201cTudo \u00e9 um\u201d means that everything can be modified, that everything is alive \u2013 including, <\/em>and this is the extension we want to emphasize, the fictional beings, who are as alive as existing beings. <\/em>Following the Shakespearean maxim \u2013 \u201cWe are such stuff as dreams are made on<\/em>\u201d \u2013, Clarice seems to postulate a radical monism, which can be seen in a series of her formulations or of her characters in which creation doesn\u2019t refer to an other whose reality or life is inferior, as when G.H. states: \u201cTerei que fazer a palavra como se fosse criar o que me aconteceu? Vou criar o que me aconteceu. S\u00f3 porque viver n\u00e3o \u00e9 relat\u00e1vel. Viver n\u00e3o \u00e9 viv\u00edvel. Terei que criar sobre a vida. E sem mentir. Criar sim, mentir n\u00e3o. Criar n\u00e3o \u00e9 imagina\u00e7\u00e3o, \u00e9 correr o grande risco de se ter a realidade\u201d. Perhaps this explains why the experience of the \u201cthing\u201d is always accompanied by an experience of language in her fictions, because, when entering the \u201cbio\u201d before the biographical, the \u201cneutral\u201d, \u201cit\u201d, the \u201craw material\u201d, the \u201cforest\u201d, the \u201cforbidden fabric of life\u201d, the zone prior to individuation and separation of genders, where \u201cShe\/he\u201d reigns, the \u201cHe\/She\u201d of Where You Were at Night<\/em>, the Clarice characters feel the need to write, fictionalize, for they see, like Joana, their bodies connected by a root to everything that is no longer theirs\u2013 all the other things, all the other beings, among them the non-existent. \u201cHaving the reality\u201d of the experience of the oneness of the world therefore implies creating<\/em>, as a gesture of becoming alive<\/em>, of intensifying a way of being <\/em>that normally appears not only dead, but nonexistent. Thus it is not by chance that, in Agua Viva<\/em>, the narrator-protagonist, after experiencing the \u201cstate of grace\u201d, describing it as \u201cse viesse apenas para que soubesse que realmente se existe e existe o mundo\u201d, states that \u201cdepois da liberdade do estado de gra\u00e7a tamb\u00e9m acontece a liberdade da imagina\u00e7\u00e3o. (\u2026) A loucura do invento\u201d. The \u201cstate of grace\u201d comes only to know that one really exists and the world exists \u2013 and that, among them exists the non-existent, which fiction has the power to make alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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5.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

An Apprenticeship or The Book of Delights <\/em>opens with the protagonist Dori facing a situation of extreme anguish, fictionalizing, in a succession of \u201cmake-believe\u201d described as \u201cos movimentos hist\u00e9ricos de um animal preso\u201d, which \u201ctinham como inten\u00e7\u00e3o libertar, por meio de um desses movimentos, a coisa ignorada que o estava prendendo\u201d. This transvaluation of a typically (stereotypically) feminine scene, associating, as in Agua Viva,<\/em> creation and freedom, brings us to the true Clarice date, or rather, Clarice time par excellence, between two dates, possibly invented in the writing of The Via Crucis of the Body<\/em>. If \u201cExplanation\u201d states that \u201cToday is May 12, Mother\u2019s Day\u201d, the date on which the three stories that \u201creally happened\u201d would have ended, the \u201cP.S.\u201d that supplements it (or rewrites) and on which other stories of the volume would have been written is dated another <\/em>today, after the \u201cdomingo maldito\u201d: \u201cHoje, 13 de maio, segunda-feira, dia da liberta\u00e7\u00e3o dos escravos \u2013 portanto da minha tamb\u00e9m\u201d. One can read this sequence, this association or succession between motherhood and freedom in two ways, not necessarily contradicting each other. On the one hand, as the liberation from slavery of the characters, especially the feminine ones, from the social, family role, epitomized in reproduction<\/em>, in maternity \u2013 the transition from mother to liberated. In this sense, it would be about the radicalization of the movement that intensifies in Clarice\u2019s writing starting with what Jos\u00e9 Miguel Wisnik called the separation trilogy\u2013 Family Ties<\/em>, The Foreign Legion<\/em> and The Passion According to G.H. <\/em>In it, family bonds, socially familiarized, not only unite, but also bind, arrest, serving as instruments of domestication that allocate each to their place. Yet, on the margins of the familiar, the edges of the ties of the domesticated, a series of figures that will dominate Clarice\u2019s later fiction begin to emerge: crazies, servants, animals (hens, dogs, cockroaches, horses, etc.), \u201cnatural\u201d spaces domesticated in the city, surrounded by it (gardens \u2013 private, zoological or botanical), etc. Like a true foreign legion \u2013 in a sense completely opposite to the military formation with that name \u2013, these figures increasingly gain more and more the center of the scene, questioning and revealing the violence of the domesticated and domesticating relations to the point where, in The Via Crucis<\/em>, multiplicity can longer be alien to the family body of that time\u2013 gays, lesbians, transsexuals, prostitutes, nuns and widows full of carnal desire, beggars, in short, \u201ceverything that has no worth\u201d, to use the words of a worthless politician. Thus, for example, the duo of short stories \u201cMonkeys\u201d and \u201cThe Smallest Woman in the World\u201d, articulating racism and speciesism, brings out the role of violent exoticism, even when pious, which is at the base of the process of familiarization (of humanization) in our society. Such questioning, however, is not limited to a denial of the given, a reverse affirmation; rather, it seeks to convert the affirmation into a question, in what appears to be a movement that runs through Clarice\u2019s writing: \u201cEste livro \u00e9 uma pergunta\u201d, claims Rodrigo S.M.; \u201cEscrever \u00e9 uma indaga\u00e7\u00e3o. \u00c9 assim: ?\u201d, we read in A Breath of Life<\/em>; \u201csou uma pergunta\u201d, says the narrator in Agua Viva<\/em>, a phrase that is also the title of a cr\u00f4nica<\/em>; and, to offer just one more example, the strongest of them: \u201cO \u00fanico modo de chamar \u00e9 perguntar: como se chama? At\u00e9 hoje s\u00f3 consegui nomear com a pr\u00f3pria pergunta. Qual \u00e9 o nome? e este \u00e9 o nome.\u201d It is thus not only about denying existing ties, or of affirming others in their place, but to open space for the experimentation with other relations\u2013 that is why liberation is only the first step in a movement of inquiry that cannot stagnate at an affirmation, at a name: \u201cLiberdade \u00e9 pouco. O que eu quero ainda n\u00e3o tem nome\u201d. Take the short story \u201cThe Foreign Legion\u201d. In it, we are faced with a family configuration that is at minimum strange. The members of the narrator\u2019s own family are not named and hardly appear. Who occupies the place of prominence, in the first moment, is a chick who, terrified, makes the children ask their mother that she be the mother of that animal, of someone who doesn\u2019t properly belong to the family, and not even to the human race \u2013 a motherhood role that the narrator says she doesn\u2019t know how to fulfill. It is this \u201cunfamiliar\u201d scene (to use a term that appears three times in Family Ties<\/em>, and is a possible translation for Freud\u2019s Unheimlich<\/em>) that makes her remember another, the familiarity with Ophelia, the daughter\u2019s neighbor and another stranger to whom she was a mother. If, on the one hand, the narrator seems to hold a certain attraction for her, to the point where the child visits her every day, on the other hand, the relationship seems socially inverted, for it is Ophelia who behaves like an adult, as the embodiment of obedience to behavioral social norms (the theme will reappear in a tragic way in \u201cThe Obedient Ones\u201d), it\u2019s up to the hostess to indeed bow and define the tie between them paradoxically: \u201cj\u00e1 me tornara o dom\u00ednio daquela minha escrava\u201d. The turning point comes when Ophelia hears a chick (another) in the kitchen, and the narrator allows her and encourages her to play with the animal, which she ends up doing, against all the rigidity imposed on her by her own family. It\u2019s not surprising that in the description of the event again we come across an image that has already become familiar: \u201cA agonia de seu nascimento. At\u00e9 ent\u00e3o eu nunca vira a coragem. A coragem de ser o outro que se \u00e9, de nascer do pr\u00f3prio parto, e de largar no ch\u00e3o o corpo antigo. (\u2026) J\u00e1 h\u00e1 alguns minutos eu me achava diante de uma crian\u00e7a. Fizera-se a metamorfose\u201d. It is in a relationship that is not exactly maternal that motherhood gains an opening of meaning, that new ties between the narrator and Ophelia, between this girl and the world and with herself, can be experienced: here, motherhood (\u2018improper\u2019) designates the opening of the door to disobedience<\/em>, so that one can get out of family ties, so that one can make contact with the stranger, and thus modify oneself, \u201cbe the other that one is\u201d. Thus we can return to the succession of dates of \u201cExplanation\u201d and see them in another way, complementary to this first: motherhood as a liberation from given relationships, possibility of recreation of the given, including motherhood itself, since the most maternal figure (including literally) of The Via Crucis of the Body <\/em>is the transsexual Celsinho\/Moleir\u00e3o, \u201cmais mulher que Clara\u201d, her friend (\u2018biologically\u2019 a woman) and rival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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6.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The strength and uniqueness of Clarice\u2019s conception of fiction, and its relation to life, lies in this attention <\/em>to those who\/that are on the margins, as if the power to make fiction alive, its power to liberate, were related to the \u201cpower-of-life\u201d of the radically other\u2013 and \u201cattention\u201d is another of the crucial words, also associated with the feminine, with her writing: \u201cL\u00f3ri era uma mulher, era uma pessoa, era uma aten\u00e7\u00e3o, era um corpo habitado olhando a chuva grossa cair\u201d. In her beautiful text on The Hour of the Star<\/em>, H\u00e9l\u00e8ne Cixous points out the minutia of this attention and its consequences: \u201cThe greatest respect I have for any work whatsoever in the world is the respect I have for the work of Clarice Lispector. She has treated as no one else to my knowledge all the possible positions of a subject in relation to what would be \u201cappropriation\u201d, use and abuse of owning. And she has done this in the finest and most delicate detail. What her texts struggle against endlessly and on every terrain, is the movement of appropriation: for even when it seems most innocent it is still totally destructive. Pity is destructive; badly thought out love is destructive; illmeasured understanding is annihilating. One might say that the work of Clarice Lispector is an immense book of<\/em> respect<\/em>, book of the right distance<\/em>. And as she tells us all the time, one can only attain the right distance through a relentless process of de-selfing, a relentless process of deegoization. The enemy as far as she is concerned is the blind self.\u201d Thus, for Clarice, paying attention to the other would require a \u201cdepersonalization\u201d or \u201cobjectification\u201d of oneself, the entry into the neutral, the \u201cnon-birth\u201d of oneself, movement without which her conversion into an \u201cinhabited body\u201d is not possible, the \u201cInvoluntary Incarnation\u201d a story\/cr\u00f4nica<\/em> speaks of and that seems to be a good name for fiction according to C.L.: \u201c\u00c0s vezes, quando vejo uma pessoa que nunca vi, e tenho algum tempo para observ\u00e1-la, eu me encarno nela e assim dou um grande passo para conhece-la (\u2026) J\u00e1 sei que s\u00f3 da\u00ed a dias conseguirei recome\u00e7ar enfim a minha pr\u00f3pria vida. Que, quem sabe, talvez nunca tenha sido pr\u00f3pria, sen\u00e3o no momento de nascer, e o resto tenha sido encarna\u00e7\u00f5es\u201d. Exemplified by the incarnation in a missionary and later in a prostitute (an always present pairing), the operation, which I have called oblique, often occurs before, or in relation to, figures of an extreme otherness, especially animals. It is a matter of adopting the perspective of the other and, in this way, estranging oneself (hence the importance of the intensity of the difference), as in \u201cDry Sketch of Horses\u201d (\u201cE veria as coisas como um cavalo v\u00ea\u201d), or in \u201cIn Search of a Dignity\u201d, in which the perspective of inversion is fully enunciated: \u201cUlisses, se fosse vista a sua cara sob o ponto de vista humano, seria monstruoso e feio. Era lindo sob o ponto de vista de c\u00e3o. Era vigoroso como um cavalo branco e livre, s\u00f3 que ele era castanho suave, alaranjado, cor de u\u00edsque. Mas seu pelo \u00e9 lindo como a de um energ\u00e9tico e empinado cavalo. Os m\u00fasculos do pesco\u00e7o eram vigorosos e a gente podia pegar esses m\u00fasculos nas m\u00e3os de dedos s\u00e1bios. Ulisses era um homem. Sem o mundo c\u00e3o\u201d (The children\u2019s book Almost True<\/em> will pull this thread even further, as it is narrated by the \u201csame\u201d dog Ulysses, Clarice\u2019s life companion, and it is up to her to transcribe or translate his barking into writing). However, the movement does not end there: we would not be faced with a true birth, a true becoming, a transformation, if such an incarnation were not to establish a relationship with life, were not to become alive itself, we would not be changed, it would not make us reborn. It is necessary, therefore, that the perspectivist  transformation be a way of looking at each other through the eyes of the others and that we be looked at by them<\/em>, not only to see the world through the eyes of the others, but also to see ourselves by this gaze, see ourselves in another way, changing us. At least, this seems to be the \u201cexperi\u00eancia maior\u201d which Clarice speaks of, and that her fictions keep searching for: \u201cEu antes tinha querido ser os outros para conhecer o que n\u00e3o era eu. Entendi ent\u00e3o que eu j\u00e1 tinha sido os outros e isso era f\u00e1cil. Minha experi\u00eancia maior seria ser o outro dos outros: e o outro dos outros era eu. \u201cA experi\u00eancia maior\u201d, while becoming another from contact with the other <\/em>is not reduced to being the others <\/em>(an experience not flush with reverse egotism); rather, it constitutes an experiment of subjectivity anchored in transfiguration, through which, traversing the non-birth of oneself and the birth of the other in us, we access the \u201cterra em que se revive<\/em>\u201d of which A Breath of Life <\/em>speaks, <\/em>where we recreate\u2013 or we are recreated. Fiction makes the other alive in us, to make our life another. <\/em>It provides the liberty to question oneself and one\u2019s ties to the world and to inquire of other relations, for which we do not yet have names, for which the question is the only possible name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

7.<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Starting from a mirrored formulation of A Breath of Life<\/em>, \u201cA sombra de minha alma \u00e9 o corpo. O corpo \u00e9 a sombra de minha alma\u201d, the young scholar of Clarice\u2019s works Let\u00edcia Pilger said that the author\u2019s relationship with the posthumous book could be defined in an analogous way: indeed, the fictional work is the shadow of Clarice\u2019s life, provided we take the reciprocal as true, <\/em>namely that Clarice\u2019s life is also the shadow of her fiction. After all, to paraphrase Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, if everything, including fictional beings, is alive, then life is also a fiction, is something else \u2013 everything is one (becoming).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alexandre Nodari<\/strong> is Professor of Brazilian Literature and Literary Theory at the Federal University of Paran\u00e1, where he is also a collaborator in the graduate programs in Humanities and Philosophy. He is also editor of the periodical Letras<\/em> and coordinator of SPECIES \u2013 speculative anthropology research group: http:\/\/speciesnae.wordpress.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

1. 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