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“But the skeleton is free of life and when I'm alive I shudder all over. I won't get the final nudity. And I still don't want it, it seems.

This is the life seen by life.”

I was absorbed this evening drinking in the words of Clarice Lispector. Loving this slim volume although it seems to be less than popular on Litsy.

Maybe the words got lost in translation...because I could not go beyond the first few pages because none of the sentences were making any sense 🤔

Through few years that is my third unsuccessful attempt to read Clarice Lispector ….

Dense, stream of consciousness. Narrator addressing former lover? Friend? Exhausted from looking after the world. Alternate realities. Oblique life. Dreams. Time. Freedom. “This instant-now.” Words vs. images. State of grace. Dying a little. “To live this life is more an indirect remembering than a direct living.” Strong translation. 1973, trans. 2012.

a letter to a son. shares themes with Chandelier. short. secrets. the instant. the “disarticulation” of birth. grace. binary opposition. limitation of form. god is irrelevant or a monster. freedom (in death?).

4 stars

This is the last book Lispector wrote before she died, and it was organized by one of her friends. Maybe that is why at times it‘s hard to follow? Or maybe that was always Lispector‘s intention?

This book is about the Author and his creation Angela Pralini. Through the book, they have dialogue about creation, freedom and music.

I really liked the writing style as it‘s so easy to get lost in. I would definitely read more by her in the future.

Oh how cold. I prefer the word brilliants to diamonds. I‘m not sure why: maybe because the word “brilliant” actually seems to shine brilliantly with its flashes of diagonal light [...] But a diamond is something chained to the earth, it‘s solid, and the word “diamante”, “diamond”, is a bit opaque despite its first two syllables: “dia”, “day”. And the end “amante”, “lover”, reveals a cardinal and imperishable love. (p 119)

#foodabdlit #Brazil

Angela is losing it. What do I care about the clothes she bought? She is sometimes an Austrian waltz. And when she speaks of God she becomes Bach. Moreover, she‘s hooked on possessing. She confuses possessing for living. That‘s why a dress can enrich her soul. Poor soul. She‘s vulgar. But she has one charming quality: she‘s a jug from which fresh water bubbles. (p 53)

#foodandlit #Brazil

But, having seen that which eyes, upon seeing, diminish, she had put herself in danger of being “herself”—a thing tradition did not protect. -Preciousness