If Adonias Filho had published this short novel in any language other than Portuguese, and in any country other than Brazil, his name would have been put forward for the highest literary honors on the planet. Being Brazilian, of course, that did not happen. Never mind… This book, however, possesses the qualities that define a masterpiece. And it makes that old theme, so artificially and unfortunately handled by authors of the past, truly interesting: here, the natural aversion to it disappears. For the rest, suffice it to say the following: for its excellent writing, its stimulating narrative technique, the story’s unparalleled intensity, and the authenticity of the characters, this is one of the best novels Brazilian literature has ever produced.
Category: Notes
If, as in the East, Writers Were Trained…
If, as in the East, writers were trained through a kind of apprenticeship, a good master would say right away, at the very first meeting with the apprentice: “First of all, we must resolve your financial situation. You must, if you do not already have them, create the conditions so that you never depend on, nor expect, money from any of your writings.” So, before grammar, before reading the classics, before anything else, the disciple would have to practice mathematics: calculate how much he would need, monthly, to live; calculate how much he would need to save to have that income, or what kind of work he could do, alongside writing, to raise the amount or secure that monthly income. Without a very well-defined financial plan—the success of which means overcoming the problem of money, freeing oneself from all sorts of financial disturbances—every writer tends to end up, with luck, like Mário de Sá-Carneiro; with bad luck, like others not worth mentioning. Cioran is right: any physical labor is preferable to paid textual work; the need for money must not contaminate the act of writing.
Freedom… Certainly, I Was Lucky…
Freedom… Certainly, I was lucky to have devoured books on finance before discovering literature, that is, to have understood the mechanics of money before committing the folly of dropping everything to become a writer. That way, I was able to do something no one could have taught me: I devised a financial plan, parallel to my study plan, to enable me to write. I prepared myself, through a plan that is still in place, to take the plunge with confidence. Has there ever been a penniless writer with the same luck? I was saved by this very special circumstance. Without it, if I had come across all this talk of freedom, I would have ended up very, very badly.
Cioran, in an Interview With Michael Jakob…
Cioran, in an interview with Michael Jakob:
M. J. : Aviez-vous décidé avant votre arrivée en France de ne pas travailler dans ce pays non plus ?
C. : Oui, c’est d’une façon ultra-lucide que j’ai compris qu’il faut accepter n’importe quelle humiliation ou souffrance pour se refuser à exercer un métier, à faire des choses qu’on n’aime pas et qu’on ne peut pas aimer, à exercer tout travail impersonnel. Seul j’aurais accepté un travail physique. J’aurais accepté de balayer les rues, n’importe quoi, mais pas d’écrire, de faire du journalisme ! Il fallait tout faire pour ne pas gagner sa vie. Pour être libre il faut supporter n’importe quelle humiliation et c’était presque le programme de ma vie.
Freedom and humiliation! Perhaps no two words are so closely linked. Such a response clearly reveals the feeling that pulsates within a true writer. And this writer, whether he likes it or not, will do little more than bear a life that, for others, would be unthinkable. There is no such thing as recognition in literature. The man dedicates his life to building a body of work, financially becomes a nobody, perseveres against all odds, renounces everything else—and yet, he must hope to remain in the peace of anonymity, to never be read. When that luck does not come, he is envied by his peers and insulted by the first imbecile. In the end, however, it is worth it, because the writer who accepts this, in truth, chooses an authentic life, and can be proud of having sustained it without betraying himself.