{"id":4601,"date":"2019-12-04T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2019-12-04T03:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/a-conversao-pelo-odio\/"},"modified":"2020-12-15T11:59:26","modified_gmt":"2020-12-15T14:59:26","slug":"a-conversao-pelo-odio","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/site.claricelispector.ims.com.br\/en\/2019\/12\/04\/a-conversao-pelo-odio\/","title":{"rendered":"Conversion through hatred"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Caetano Veloso says that when he played his song \u201cOdeio\u201d (I hate), which would be included on the C\u00ea <\/em>album, for his friend and composer Jorge Mautner, while still at his guitar the latter cried and told him that it was the most beautiful love song that he had ever heard. The refrain, which repeats \u201cI hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate,\u201d when sung in a low voice, suggests a feeling of gentleness instead of the expected aggressiveness: \u201cit seems sweet,\u201d he explains. Caetano himself declared that when he composed \u201cOdeio,\u201d he was in fact thinking about how love and hate can easily be converted into each other: \u201cwhen you have a love fight, you get very angry,\u201d he commented in an interview for Rolling Stone<\/em> magazine at the time of the album\u2019s release, in 2012.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Based on this observation, it is possible to think of an axis in which love and hate are located at two extremes of a single affective mobilization. In other words, hate is love that recedes, despite being equally radical in its passion, while indifference is its opposite. Caetano\u2019s refrain takes advantage of this ambivalence by synthesizing in just one verse \u2014 \u201cI hate you\u201d \u2014 both the anger of hatred (in words) and the sweetness of love (expressed in the melody and in the \u201cgrain\u201d of the singer\u2019s voice). The effect, according to the composer, is to be able \u201cto express love as \u2018I hate.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is the theme of the short story \u201cThe Buffalo,\u201d by Clarice Lispector, whom Caetano has been reading since adolescence, when the writer\u2019s first texts were published in the Senhor<\/em> magazine. The story, included in the book Family Ties<\/em>, begins inadvertently, as if the facts were already in progress: \u201cBut it was spring. Even the lion licked the lioness\u2019s smooth forehead.\u201d Little by little, we find out that the protagonist had been to the Zoological Gardens to learn with the animals how to hate, and she intended to kill. About the motive for the unusual mission, there are two vague and sparse indications in the text. The first, when the narrator briefly describes the submissive posture of the woman before her boyfriend or husband: \u201ceverything was caught in her chest. In her chest that knew only how to give up, knew only how to beg forgiveness [\u2026].\u201d The second, in a quick flashback, when she finally gathers the courage to tell him that she hated him \u2013 \u201c\u2018I hate you\u2019, she said in a rush;\u201d however, \u201cshe didn\u2019t even know how you were supposed to do it. How did you dig in the earth until locating the black water?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The couple\u2019s fight unleashed the woman\u2019s murderous impetus. Did she go to vent tyrannically at the animals the contained anger to which she was unable to give free reign in her amorous relationship? We also do not know why she believes that the lesson of hatred could be learned from the animals. Is it because they only have instinct? Whatever the reason, she goes from cage to cage and, at each attempt, gets frustrated: the lions licked each other and loved each other exhaustively; the giraffe, like whatever is \u201clarge and nimble and guiltless,\u201d was foolish and innocent; the \u201cmoist hippopotamus\u201d conveyed a \u201chumble love in remaining just flesh;\u201d in the monkey cage, a mother breastfed her child and an old monkey with cataracts stared at her sweetly \u2013 the woman, upset, looks away and escapes. The bestiary continues with the sweet elephant whose strength is overwhelming but not crushing; the patient camel with \u201cdusty eyelashes,\u201d and the coati with a childish and questioning gaze.     <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Until the spiral guard rail makes the woman lose her center; one no longer knows whether she is outside or inside the cages. She then trades places with the animal and goes from subject to object: \u201cHer forehead was pressed against the bars so firmly that for an instant it looked like she was the caged one and a free coati was examining her.\u201d In concert with animal behavior, the movement of nature only inspired in her notions of freedom and offering: \u201ceverything being born, everything flowing downstream;\u201d \u201cout of pure weeds sprouted between the tracks in a light green so dizzying [\u2026].\u201d All around, everything therefore opposed her desire for revenge. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dissatisfied, she walks aimlessly. She then realizes that she is in the amusement park of the Zoological Gardens, in line for the rollercoaster, behind a few couples. Her turn arrives and she sits by herself. The ordinary situation sets off an unsuspected relation with Christian morality: \u201cshe looked like she was sitting in a Church.\u201d As the train departs, the character undergoes a physically liberating and sensorially vertiginous experience (which is formally accompanied, in the text, by the sequence of coordinate clauses that list, with repetitions, reminiscences, screams, and situations):            <\/p>\n\n\n\n

[\u2026] but all of the sudden came that lurch of the guts, that halting of the heart caught by surprise in midair, that fright, the triumphant fury with which her seat hurtled her into the nothing and immediately swept her up like a rag doll, skirts flying, the deep resentment with which she became mechanical, her body automatically joyful \u2013 the girlfriends\u2019 shrieks! \u2013 her gaze wounded by that great surprise, that offense, \u2018they were having their way with her,\u2019 that great offense \u2013 the girlfriends\u2019 shrieks! \u2013 the enormous bewilderment at finding herself spasmodically frolicking, they were having their way with her, her pure whiteness suddenly exposed.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

While riding on the rollercoaster, she becomes mechanical like the machine; she becomes depersonalized. And she loses her reference to the ground. On this aspect, it is worth mentioning a comment by the Italian writer Giulio Carlo Argan, in his book Storia dell\u2019arte come storia della citt\u00e0<\/em> (History of art as history of the city). <\/em>By criticizing the obsession of architects and urbanists for a city of the future built so that life occurred on elevated surfaces, he observes that the relation of people with space and each other presupposes ground level as a humanistic reference. It is only based on a common plane, he argues, that all people, in the act of spinning on their own axis, can locate themselves, simultaneously, at the center of the world and periphery of their fellow human beings, who for their part are also centers of themselves and peripheries of others.      <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The character\u2019s dehumanization provoked by the experience on the rollercoaster can likewise be understood through the dilacerations of the body \u2013 \u201cthat lurch of the guts.\u201d The fragmentation of the image of the human body \u2013 characteristic of vanguard movements from the beginning of the 20th<\/sup> century, such as Cubism and Surrealism \u2013 is an expression of denial of the elevated view of the human in favor of a low materialism that accepts the obscure forces of nature. That is what Georges Bataille qualified as \u201cevil,\u201d in the well-known book Literature and Evil<\/em>, that is, the idea of an unmeasured life that is ideally intense and that therefore must be lived in the transgression of goodness and the morality associated with its conservation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not by chance, at the end of the violent experience on the rollercoaster \u2013 which totally exposed her! \u2013, the character comes back down to earth and to the humanistic morality of the ground. Pale, \u201cweak and disgraced,\u201d as if she had been \u201ckicked out of a Church,\u201d she \u201cstraightened out her skirts primly,\u201d without looking at anyone, like a pariah. Something remains, however, that ferments within her: \u201cthe sky was spinning in her empty stomach; the earth, rising and falling before her eyes, remained distant for a few moments, the earth that is always so troublesome.\u201d It is precisely on the troublesome earth \u2013 to which she stretches her hands like a \u201ccrippled beggar\u201d (still mutilated, therefore) \u2013 that she will continue, transformed by evil and by her lesson of hatred alongside the animals. Finally, the link between love and hate is revealed:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, born from her womb, it rose again, beseeching, in a swelling wave, that urge to kill [\u2026] it wasn\u2019t hatred yet, for the time being just a tormented urge to hate like a desire, the promise of cruel blossoming, a torment like love, the urge to hate promising itself sacred blood and triumph, the spurned female had become spiritualized through her great hope. But where, where to find the animal that would teach her to have her own hatred? the hatred that was hers by right but that lay excruciatingly out of reach? where could she learn to hate so as not to die of love?\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

In the hyper-morality achieved by the character, love and hate are equal in intensity and become inseparable. Until then, she only knew how to bear, \u201chave the sweetness of unhappiness.\u201d The hatred for which she so longed was the same that served as raw material for her forgiveness. Between sudden bursts of activity and torpor \u2013 which demonstrated her disorientation \u2013 she rests her hot face on the cold and rusty iron bar of the railings. The temperature shock and the textures provoke in her the sensation of being hated. There is a symbolic rebirth \u2013 \u201copened her eyes slowly,\u201d \u201ca certain peace at last,\u201d \u201cof someone who had just died.\u201d      <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, she arrives at the cage of the black buffalo. She fixes her gaze on it \u2013 the animal stares back. Attentive to the slightest movements of that \u201ca body blackened with tranquil rage,\u201d she realizes that she is being noticed and becomes absorbed. A \u201cwhite thing\u201d spreads within her \u2013 a substance that is similar to the vital \u201cwhite mass\u201d eaten by G.H. and expelled from the cockroach like ripened fruit from the horror, in the book The Passion According to G.H.<\/em> \u201cDeath droned in her ears\u201d like an enticing breath of evil \u2013 a metaphor for living a life of risk. From then on, the character reaches a sort of primordial purity. With her face \u201ccovered in deathly whiteness,\u201d she painfully feels the \u201cfirst trickle of black blood\u201d flow within her: hatred, at last. The buffalo has its back turned to her. She grabs a rock on the ground and tosses it inside the cage. It turns around and faces her, motionless. That is when the woman declares her sentence:            <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love you, she then said with hatred to the man whose great unpunishable crime was not wanting her. I hate you, she said beseeching the buffalo\u2019s love.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

The character\u2019s search comes to an end in a paroxysm: not the unconditional, \u201cpure love,\u201d of nature, which brings to life \u201cweeds sprouted between the tracks in a light green,\u201d but the love among people who, to become fully realized, requires its opposite: hatred \u2013 according to Freud, the basic human affect, from which love is erected as a construct. Hatred is also the basis of the political theory of Thomas Hobbes, in the Leviathan<\/em>, when he defines sovereignty. According to his maxim, man, wolf to men, fears violent death, and for that reason, the self-preservation instinct, subsidized by hatred of the other, establishes the regulatory state of collective life. Self-love adds rigor to the relation among equals. However, it is before the buffalo \u2013 in a sort of bullfighting ceremony \u2013, and not anyone else, that the character feels threatened and threatening, \u201ctrapped in this mutual murder.\u201d This is the moment in which hatred arises as a self-defense impulse and she feels anger at what could destroy her. Here we discover the reason why the lesson on hatred was sought at the Zoological Gardens. If one cannot call hatred that which in animals is merely instinct, it is in the so-called animal instinct of man that hatred resides. And that is how the short story ends: the woman falls on the ground in slow vertigo. One does not know if she dies or faints. But was not death \u2013 whether real or metaphorical \u2013 the North Star of this love story?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*Image of the title page taken from the book Death in the Afternoon, by Ernest Hemingway. Unidentified author.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Caetano Veloso says that when he played his song \u201cOdeio\u201d (I hate), which would be included on the C\u00ea album, for his friend and composer Jorge Mautner, while still at his guitar the latter cried and told him that it was the most beautiful love song that he had ever heard. The refrain, which repeats […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":4782,"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],"tags":[596,597,598,599,600,601,602,603,604,605,606,607],"class_list":["post-4601","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essays","tag-amor-en","tag-caetano-veloso-en","tag-cubismo-en","tag-freud-en","tag-georges-bataille-en","tag-giulio-carlo-argan-en","tag-jorge-mautner-en","tag-mal-en","tag-moralidade-en","tag-odio-en","tag-surrealismo-en","tag-thomas-hobbes-en"],"yoast_head":"\nConversion through hatred - 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\/2019\/12\/04\/a-conversao-pelo-odio\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Conversion through hatred - Clarice Lispector\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Caetano Veloso says that when he played his song \u201cOdeio\u201d (I hate), which would be included on the C\u00ea album, for his friend and composer Jorge Mautner, while still at his guitar the latter cried and told him that it was the most beautiful love song that he had ever heard. 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