Clarice Lispector ✓ Um sopro de vida Pulsações Mobi
Um sopro de vida Pulsações Book ¹ 167 pages Download Å Clarice lispector ✓ A mystical dialogue between a male author a thinly disguised Clarice Lispector and hisher creation a woman named Angela this posthumous work has never before been translated Lispector did not even live to see it pubO his creation the speaking breathing dying creation herself Angela Pralini The work’s almost occult appeal arises from the perception that if Angela dies Clarice will have to die as well And she d of the four lispector novels released by new directions this year this is the only one not to have appeared previously in english translation originally published the year after she died a breath of life sopro de vida finds the brazilian writer revisiting the familiar milieu of existential musings meditative reveries and contemplations on the nature of mortality common throughout her works cleverly offered as an ongoing dialogue between the author an autobiographically tinted male counterpart and a character of his creation angela a breath of life was posthumously assembled from the disorganized and unrevised manuscript by a close friend ever present despite the pain and agony with which she apparently finished this book is lispector's magnificent prose and singular styleincluded in this edition is a brief and interesting epistolary exchange between series editortranslatorlispector biographer benjamin moser and pedro almodóvar where moser reuests of the famed film director an introduction to the book which save for his response he did not provide i've always wanted to find someday a person who would live for me because life is so full of useless things that i can only bear it through extreme muscular asthenia i suffer from moral indolence in living i tried to make angela live in my place but she too wants only the climax of life translated from the portuguese by johnny lorenz
Mobi × Um sopro de vida Pulsações ✓ Clarice Lispector
A mystical dialogue between a male author a thinly disguised Clarice Lispector and hisher creation a woman named Angela this posthumous work has never before been translated Lispector did not even li “This is not a lament it’s the cry of a bird of prey An iridescent and restless bird The kiss upon the dead faceI write as if to save somebody’s life Probably my own Life is a kind of madness that death makes Long live the dead because we live in them”I loved the above section from this author’s bookClarice Lispector began this book in 1974 and finished it in 1977 on the eve of her death She was slowly dying from ovarian cancer This author was a tremendous loss to Latin American literature and to those individuals in the rest of the world who had read her translated works So I was delighted when I came across this translation from the Portuguese by Johnny LorenzFor Clarice Lispector my friend A Breath of Life would be her definitive book;” so stated Olga Borelli who “for eight years lived with Clarice Lispector participating in her creative process I wrote down her thoughts typed her manuscripts and most of all shared in her moments of inspiration As a result she and her son Paulo entrusted me with the organization of the pages of a “Breath of Life” And so it was done”I had never read the works of this author before but the title happened to inspire me for some obscure perhaps a spiritual reason for after all breathing is the most important part of our existence Where would we be without it?I began this book and first of all I was confused with the author’s ideas illogical musings and writing style and then I gradually fell into the way that her thought processes worked I must confess that I have never in my life been so entranced with the metaphysical thoughts of an individual such as Clarice I’m calling her by her Christian name which is unusual for me as I don’t know this woman at all but she in all fairness touched my heart strings She actually made me weep as she relentlessly raced towards her own destiny Was she frightened of death? Well I believe she was We all as we know have an appointment with death at some stage in our lives Some have a uick ending which is merciful – I think that it’s best personally to be shot – uick and to the point if the right place is shot of course and others linger which is sad for the individual involved but even sadder for the loved ones who have to cope and live with this ever increasing nightmareNow as for Clarice did she cope? When Clarice began this book she took the pragmatic approach and invented a kind of alter ego an unnamed man She had no idea what direction it would take It was all a uestion of wait and see All she knew was that she had to create an unnamed male “protagonist” and soon this individual or Clarice decided that another individual had to be invented “Creating a being who stands in opposition to me is within the silence A spiraling clarinet A dark cello But I manage to see however dimly Angela standing beside me”The skill of Clarice’s writing is remarkable because as soon as Angela Pralini appears Clarice finds fault with the former’s writing skills and her diaries are soon running in parallel with our unnamed narrator The skillful artifice of the author is soon apparent because we have Angela initially subordinate to the unnamed author and then her competitive streak enters into the euation and she gradually “devours” her “leader”’ the man and then? Well what do you think as a reader could possibly have happened? It is for you to find out in this remarkable mental and thought provoking odyssey of survival life and deathMixed into the fabric are thoughts of belief in God but there are also contradictory beliefs that cause one to truly reflect; as I did myself In fact the moment I finished this book I began to wonder about life generally It was all a uestion of wait and see and I began to compare the May fly as I always do to the brevity of life and also the nonsense of our life as humans What is the point
Text Um sopro de vida Pulsações
Um sopro de vida PulsaçõesVe to see it publishedAt her death a mountain of fragments remained to be “structured” by Olga Borelli These fragments form a dialogue between a god like author who infuses the breath of life int In order to write I must place myself in the void In this void is where I exist intuitively But it’s a terribly dangerous void it’s where I wring out blood I’m a writer who fears the snares of words the words I say hide others — which? maybe I’ll say them Writing is a stone cast down a deep wellI write very simple and very naked That’s why it wounds I’m a gray and blue landscape I rise in a dry fountain and in the cold lightCould I be betraying myself? Could I be altering the course of a river? I must trust that abundant river Or maybe I’m damming a river? I try to open the flood gatesI want to watch the water gushing out I want every sentence of this book to be a climaxIn every word a heart beats Writing is that search for the intimate truth of life Life that disturbs me and leaves my own trembling heart suffering the incalculable pain that seems necessary for my maturity — maturity? I’ve lived this long without itAnd is there another way to be saved? besides creating one’s own realities?