PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Jamie OsbornIn conversation with Sasha Dugdale
(PN Review 240)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
OUP PNR 246 Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
Next Issue Alex Wong embarks on Ausonius's Moselle Christine Blackwell recalls Jonas Mekas Lives of Graves, Trilling and Curnow visited New poems by Lisa Kelly and Jodie Hollander Andy Croft on the 'poetry industry'

This report is taken from PN Review 60, Volume 14 Number 4, March - April 1988.

Vision of Clarice Lispector Carlos Drummond De Andrade

In December it is the tenth anniversary of the death of Clarice Lispector in 1977, the same year her novel The Hour of the Star was published. Born in the Ukraine in 1925, Lispector was brought up in Recife, Brazil; she published her first novel in 1944 to critical acclaim, and was one of the most distinguished of contemporary Brazilian writers. It is fitting that she should be memorialized by Brazil's greatest twentieth-century poet, Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987), in a poem from his volume Spring Discourse (1977).


Clarice
issued from some mystery and departed for another.

We cannot fathom its essence.
The mystery was not essential,
it was Clarice travelling inside.

It was Clarice stirring in the lowest depths,
where the word appears to find
its true meaning, portraying mankind.

What Clarice expressed, what Clarice
lived for us in the form of a story
in the form of a dream of a story
in the form of a dream of a dream of a story
(in the middle was there a cockroach
or an angel?)
we can neither repeat nor invent.
These are things, gems peculiar to Clarice
we use on loan. She is mistress of all.

Clarice was no cliché,
identity card or portrait.
Di Chirico painted her? Of course.
But the clearest portrait of Clarice
is obscured ...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image