Sep 5, 2010
Clarice Lispector, I am certain, did not write for an audience. Although she aimed at clarity, at expressing thoughts coherently (at times) the process of writing was for her a meditation, a journey to discovery of meaning, of language, of emotion. She wrote to dispel thoughts, cast them out like ugly demons so that the world could too understand them; or rather that through the world's lens she could see them more clearly. Her audience was the mystery of herself - that hidden piece that she did not understand, that came to her through the written word. Her stories, her characters - they're nothing more than second skins, other lives she might have led, her trying on different identities, different hats or Gods or constructions of herself - it's hard to live in the real world when you're constantly desiring some other life - more sordid, more lucid, more real than that which you already inhibit. She longed for the mystery that life and existence held out as possible - the animalistic, the unconscious - but that which a mundane life forced her to wear. So she wrote, she escaped, she hid on self-journeys in her loneliness and solitude and safety of the journey that was all her own.
some days I remember the lies you told me and i laugh at both of us at me, for wanting so badly to believe you at you, for having t...
A lot of scientific epistemology or historiography focus on the methodology of discovery, the paradigm shifts of humans and the viability an...
outlining, on the ground in blood chalk the structure of that thing that you need or feel that you need in order to feel full.
Sadly, I could not comment on this article via the NYT website because I read it too late. Thank goodness for blogs though! Reading throu...