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(Writer : 1920 - 1977)

by Rachel Gutierrez 

Translated by Carla Sherman

Clarice Lispector

















































Clarice Lispector


1920: Clarice Lispector is born on December 10, 1920, in Tchechelnik, a small village in the Ukraine, the homeland of her parents, Pedro and Marietta Lispector. - 1921: In February 1921, when she is just two months old, Clarice arrives in Maceió, capital of the state of Alagoas, Brazil, with her parents and two sisters, Elisa and Tanya.  Brazilian Portuguese would be young Clarice’s native language. - 1924: The family moves to Recife, capital of the state of Pernambuco. - 1928: She goes to João Barbalho Elementary School. -1929: Marietta Lispector, her mother, dies when Clarice is not yet nine years old. - 1932: She enters Junior High School.  - 1934: Pedro and the girls move to Rio de Janeiro; they travel on the ship Island Monarch, property of the Royal Mail Line. - 1937: She works as a school teacher. - 1939: She goes to college, preparing to be a lawyer. - 1940: Her father dies. Clarice Lispector starts working as a writer for the Agência Nacional [Brazilian News Agency].  This is the period of the Estado Novo [New State], under the presidency of Getúlio Vargas. -1941: She also works for the newspaper A Noite [The Night]. - 1942: Shortly after she turns 22, Clarice obtains her first working papers. - 1943: She graduates from college and marries Maury Gurgel Valente. He passes the admission exams and joins the Brazilian Diplomatic Corps, starting a career in diplomacy. Clarice is forced to leave Brazil for “about sixteen years”. - 1944: She publishes her first novel, Perto do Coração Selvagem [Close to the Wild Heart]. The couple moves to Europe during the Second World War. - 1945: For her first published novel, the young author receives the Graça Aranha Prize, awarded by the Brazilian Academy of Letters. Italian painter De Chirico paints her portrait. - 1946: Publication of her second novel, O Lustre [The Lamp], which she started writing in Brazil and finished in Naples, Italy. She returns to Europe with her husband, this time relocating to Berne. - 1947: She sees snow for the first time. - 1948: Her first son, Pedro, is born. She finishes A Cidade Sitiada [The Besieged Town ], published in 1949, when she returns to Rio de Janeiro. - 1950: She goes back to Europe, this time to Torquay, England. -1952: She is back in Rio, writing for the newspaper Comício [Rally]. She writes a column named “Entre Mulheres” [Among Women]. She relocates to Washington with her family. - 1953: Her second son, Paulo, is born in the United States. His godparents are Mafalda and Southern Brazilian writer Érico Veríssimo. Both are close friends of the couple. - 1954: The first French edition of Perto do Coração Selvagem is published by Editions Plon, with a cover designed by Henri Matisse. - 1956: She finishes A Maçã no Escuro [The Apple in the Dark]. - 1959: From Washington, she publishes her articles in the Brazilian magazine Senhor [Gentleman], starting with the first issue, in March. She is separated from her husband, Gurgel Valente. She relocates to Rio de Janeiro and starts writing her own column in the newspaper Correio da Manhã [Morning Gazette]. - 1960: Her first book of short stories, Laços de Família [Family Ties], is published in Brazil. She has a second column in the newspaper Diário da Noite [Evening Daily News]. -1961: A Maçã no Escuro, her second novel, is finally published. - 1964: Her second book of short stories, A Legião Estrangeira [The Foreign Legion], is considered by many to be her masterpiece. A paixão segundo G.H. [The Passion According to G.H.] - 1967: She starts publishing her stories in the newspaper Jornal do Brasil [Brazilian News], until the early seventies. In her apartment in the neighborhood of Leme, Rio de Janeiro, in the early hours of September 14, she falls asleep while smoking a cigarette. When she notices the fire, she tries to put it out with her own hands. Clarice is seriously injured. Her right hand, the one she uses for writing, is seriously injured. - 1968: In Diálogos possíveis com Clarice Lispector [Possible Dialogues with Clarice Lispector], she interviews celebrities for the magazine Manchete [Headline]. On June 22, she takes part in a popular demonstration against the military dictatorship, together with a great number of intellectuals. It became known as Passeata dos Cem Mil [Demonstration of the Hundred Thousand]. She publishes A mulher que matou os peixes [The Woman Who Killed the Fishes], a book for children. - 1969: She publishes her “hymn to love”: Uma Aprendizagem ou O Livro dos Prazeres [An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures]. - 1971: Felicidade Clandestina [Clandestine Happiness], a book of short stories. - 1972: The painter Carlos Scliar paints two portraits of the writer. - 1973: Água viva [Live Water] and A imitação da rosa [The Imitation of the Rose], short stories. - 1974: A Vida íntima de Laura [Laura’s Intimate Life], for children; Via crucis do corpo [The Way of the Cross of the Body], short stories; Onde estivestes de noite? [Where Were You at Night?], a book of short stories. - 1975: She takes part in the Witches World Congress, in Bogota, Colombia. - 1976: She’s awarded a prize by the Fundação Cultural do Distrito Federal [Federal District Cultural Foundation], for her work as a whole. -1977: She publishes A hora da estrela [The Hour of the Star]. On December 9, the day before of her birthday, Clarice Lispector dies of cancer, in Rio. 1978:  Three books are published after her death.  Um sopro de vida [A Breath of Life] , Pulsações [Pulsations], Para não esquecer [Not to be Forgotten], a compilation of short stories, and Quase de verdade [Almost True], a book of interviews. - 1979: Bela e a fera [Beauty and the Beast], a compilation of some of the stories of her youth and stories written shortly before her death.  - 1984: A descoberta do mundo [The Discovery of the World], a compilation of stories published in the Jornal do Brasil, from 1967 to 1973. 


came from a mystery.                                 
And left for another.                                  
We remain in ignorance                               
of the essence of the mystery.                        
Or the mystery was not essential,                                
it was Clarice traveling in it.

Carlos Drummond de Andrade


 … always this urgency:
to make resonate in our century the echo of this
Voice that comes from the origins.

                                                                                    Hélène Cixious


























Clarice Lispector publishes A maçã no escuro [The Apple in the Dark].


















Clarice Lispector























"Fear" -  painted by Clarice



















Clarice Lispector


























Clarice Lispector


































Portrait of Clarice, painted by De Chirico


Clarice Lispector has extraordinarily added to Brazilian literature. Her contribution to the Portuguese language, considered by Portuguese writer Fernando Pessoa to be the nation, is as big as that of author Guimarães Rosa. But when she spoke, people thought she was a foreigner. A great light in our literature, she had a hard time pronouncing words containing r’s.

My first language was Portuguese. Do I speak Russian? No, absolutely not. () My tongue is tied. () some people used to ask me if I was French, because of the way I pronounce the r’s. (Interview)

Clarice was Brazilian and it was by sheer luck that she was born in a small village in the Ukraine. She knew English and French well, but she wrote only in Portuguese, her native language. And as far as we know, she never spoke Yiddish or Hebrew. Once she learned how to read and write, she became an avid reader.

When I learned to read and write, I devoured books! I thought books were like trees, like animals: a thing that was born! I could not find out what an author was! Then, at a certain point, I found out what an author was! So I said:  I want that too.  (Interview)

Her career starts with Perto do coração selvagem [Close to the Wild Heart]. This title is reaffirmed throughout her novels, short stories, stories for children and all her other texts. With her catlike eyes, slantingly open upon the world, Clarice Lispector always remained close to the heart of life, as wild as nature in the rural area of her childhood in Pernambuco. She was different, inaugural, transgressing. She was always recreating herself, devouring herself. Like a sun that illuminates as it burns itself up. A sun that provides heat because it consumes itself.

Clarice devours herself.
                         (Lúcio Cardoso)

As Clarice herself stated, the compulsion to write made her feel dead when she was not writing.

I was born to write. () Each one of my books is a painful and happy opening.  (Interview)

Clarice’s writing is illuminating, without totally revealing itself. As in poetry, silence  -- all that she does not clarify -- is present in the author’s incantatory prose, as though when speaking of existence, she wished to cover it with yet other veils. Maybe this is why the sortilege of her language is so seductive.

She does not tell stories, she writes life itself. She writes the act of writing itself.

This capacity to renew myself as time passes, this is what I call living and writing  (Interview)

With an intensity and a density never before attained and that never fade, Clarice Lispector achieves the improbable balance of walking on a razor’s edge without tearing up the veils of reality and showing what was until then unspeakable: the unsaid of the thinking impulses, of consciousness and the pulsations of writing. When her character Martin is getting ready to write, this process is evoked:

 ... Around him, an emptiness blew, in which a man finds himself  when he is going to create. Desolated, he provoked the great solitude. (...) And, like an old man who has not learned to read, he measured the distance that separated him from the word. [A maçã no escuro - The Apple in the Dark]

Clarice’s writing occupies this unlikely space, the immeasurable: the distance that separates us from the words. It’s the measure of a void, of an abyss that opens itself in the infinitesimal instant in which the words acquire sense. That’s why it feels as if she is writing right in front of us, in order to reveal to us, in its total nakedness, in its pungent abandonment, the act of writing itself.

The heart beating in solitude. [A maçã no escuro - The Apple in the Dark]

She writes in the present, from within the beingness of being, as if she had made of the delirium of Molly Bloom a method – not in order to remember vicissitudes or adventures, but in order to think with us the life of us all. Hers is a constant questioning. This need to question, to inquire about life, about death, about love, is present in all of Clarice’s texts, from the simple magazine chronicles to the most dense and metaphysically dramatic texts such as A maçã no escuro [The Apple in the Dark] and A paixão segundo G.H. [The Passion According to G.H.] This questioning is metaphysical: Why does the world exist instead of nothing? What is it to be alive? What does it mean to live, to love, to die? In her writing, there is a certain touch of Socrates, an irony and a maieutical approach. It all happens as if she had preserved her childhood questioning and developed it aesthetically. As if she had not forgotten what it is to be a child in the world, in the fact that a child possesses a philosophy. And when she focuses on the experience of love, as she does in Uma aprendizagem ou O livro dos prazeres [An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures], the result is the report of an initiation or an ascetic path.

The early morning opened itself in a vacillating light. For Lori, the atmosphere was that of a miracle. She had reached the impossible of herself. Because she felt that Ulysses was again attached to the pain of existence, she said:

- My love, you don’t believe in the God, because we made a mistake when we humanized Him. We humanized Him because we did not understand Him, then it didn’t work out. I’m certain that He is not human. But although He’s not human, He sometimes makes us divine. Do you think --

- I think, the man interrupted and his voice was slow and muffled, because he was suffering from life and love; here’s what I think:

This novel, that inserts itself in the possible, begins with a comma and does not end; it is simply interrupted with a colon, in this way suggesting a painting in which the master lines had cut themselves off the great mystery that contains everything. The experts say that the Talmud is characterized by having more questions than answers, or better yet, for always leaving an open space for doubt and questioning. In this sense, Clarice would be taking the very spirit, the essence of Judaism itself, in order to insert it, with absolute adequateness, into the contemporary world. In several parts of her work, it’s possible to identify an undeniable affinity with Kabala texts, as shown in the essay A ética cabalística de Clarice Lispector [The Kabalistic Ethics of Clarice Lispector].

She did not come to reveal the mystery, she came to reaffirm it. (Ester Schwartz).

Her own choice of titles for her books is very expressive and significant, in that they evoke the steps of the kabalistic path, which passes through the spheres of the body and sensations, of love, passion and pleasure, of initiation, darkness, perplexity or strangeness, splendor, etc.  Some examples:  The Way of the Cross of the Body, Close to the Wild Heart, The Passion According to G.H., The Apple in the Dark, An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures, The Foreign Legion, Vision of the Splendor.

In the face of the originality of Clarice Lispector’s writing, it’s not hard to understand the assertion made by scholars who say that in the 20th century, literature ceased to be the writing of adventure to become the adventure of writing, an initiation and a learning process. The act of writing itself is lived and revealed in a state of exalted and exacerbated consciousness, which evokes a unique and lonely mystical experience.

In truth, I think that we should make contact with the supernatural in silence and in a profound and lonely meditation.  (Interview)

Nevertheless, when her two sons were young, Clarice got in the habit of writing seated on the couch in her living room, so she would not be apart from them.

I use a portable typewriter, an Olympia, which is light enough for my weird habit: I write with the typewriter on my lap. It flows well, it flows smoothly(…) it stirs up my feelings and thoughts. (Interview)


Her thoughts and feelings are at the source of an uneasy questioning. They reflect the perplexity of our modern uncertainties, the revision and change of paradigms, the fragmentation of knowledge, the world of the image and the splitting up of the image; “the modern I-don’t-know-what, I-don’t-quite-get-what” in the words of poet Fernando Pessoa. It’s a generous questioning. To question is to open, to unveil; it’s to have a glimpse and expand horizons. To answer is to establish limits, to close, to lock up. To ask is to eternally restart, it’s life being born again and broadening itself in its infinite possibilities, including that of making mistakes and restarting. Questioning has the weight of critical consciousness and the lightness of imagination. To question is to think. The main character, the true protagonist that reappears in each one of her short stories, acquiring a greater dimension in Clarice’s novels, is thought itself.


To take care of the world demands also a lot of patience: I have to wait for the day in which an ant will show up.

Água Viva (Live Water)


One could say that Heidegger influenced her thinking; hers is a thinking process that “takes over Being”.  Being which, as we know, is Time. Time, or the “instant-now”, that she wants to capture in Água Viva [Live Water], the unending book that is a saga, a struggle of writing against Time and Death. In this book, more than in any other, she was capable of the “intuition of an instant”, in Bachelard’s terminology. She recognized the possibility of ecstasy in the impalpable instant. It’s experience that attracts her, not its result or its significance, as is also the case with Joyce. And she knows how to transform the fleeing instant into an absolute.


I know what I’m doing here: I count the instants that drop and are thick with blood. (...)

I am a concomitant being: in myself, I gather the time past, the present and the future, the time that pounds in the ticktack of the clocks.

Água Viva [Live Water].


Clarice represents an inimitable turning point in Brazilian literature. What she does, in an original and inaugural manner, is to create moments of illumination and revelation. Using a word so dear to Joyce and to Clarice, she creates an epiphany.  Epiphany is the living sensation of the inapprehensible fluidity of reality, which is saved by art.


If Kafka were a woman; if Rilke were a Brazilian Jewish woman born in the Ukraine; if Rimbaud had been a mother, if he had reached his 50’s; if Heidegger had been able to stop being German, if he had written the Novel of the Earth. (...) It’s in this ambiance that Clarice Lispector writes. There, where the most demanding works breathe, she advances. There, further ahead, where the philosopher loses his breath, she continues, still further, beyond all knowledge.

(Hélène Cixious, in: The Hour of Clarice Lispector)


Her work is not made of books like everybody’s work, as Cixious had already recognized in 1979, still under the impact provoked in her by A Paixão Segundo G.H. [The Passion According to G.H.]; in a text called L’Approche de Clarice Lispector [The approach of Clarice Lispector], she writes:

Clarice Lispector: this woman, our contemporary, a Brazilian woman (…) it is not books that she gives us, but the act of living saved by books, narratives, constructions that make us step back. And then, through her window-writing, we enter into the frightening beauty of learning how to read: and we pass, through the body, to the other side of the I. To love the truth of what is alive, that which seems ungrateful to Narcissus eyes, (…) to love the origin, to be personally interested in the impersonal, in the animal, in the thing. (Hélène Cixious in: Entre l’écriture )

The thought of this “window-writing” is eminently feminine, welcoming and loving as an embrace.  Her language flows and involves you like a Debussy tune, the composer that she loved so much.  Yes, music, the most dialectic of the arts, for it only becomes as it stops being and is only complete in the silence, just like life. She dedicates A hora da estrela [The Hour of the Star] to Schoenberg and Stravinsky, among others -- a fact that demonstrates how in tune she was, not only with the most audacious and experimental writers, but also with contemporary music, atonal and dodecaphonic, as well as with abstraction in Art. In the essay called “O figurativo inominável” [The unnamable figurative], Lúcia Helena Vianna revealed another language explored by Clarice – painting. She didn’t show her paintings to anyone, not even her own family. In her amateurish exercises, she shows certain affinities with modern Abstract Expressionism.


 Angela inherited from me the desire to write and paint. And if she inherited this part of me, it’s because I cannot imagine a life without the art of writing or painting or making music.

Um sopro de vida (A Breath of Life)


One could say that her writing is a soliloquy mediated by the many faces of her several characters. Through them, always with the same voice, she unfolds herself into infinity. Clarice’s characters are not types. She doesn’t create types. Also, there are many things that she doesn’t do like everybody else, because she doesn’t need to do them. For instance, her work doesn’t have anything to do with the scatological pseudo-realism that is so fashionable nowadays. In her books, the conflict that feeds the novel or drama is not a conventional one, such as the misunderstanding between characters or the struggle of passions, even though they are present. All her work is, finally, a passion – in the sense of the passion of Joan of Arc or the Paixão segundo G.H. [Passion according to G.H.], the passion of Martim in A maçã no escuro [The Apple in the Dark], or that of Macabéa in A hora da estrela [The Hour of the Star]. The pathos of her work is in the questions that are formulated by her writing, it’s the existential angst of the beings that represent her and live in her. For it’s only apparently that creatures and creator describe things, objects, animals, and small day-to-day events. What her writing describes -- or, as Guimarães Rosa would say it, “descrives” (N.T. Portuguese “descrevive”, a combination of descrever (to describe) and viver (to live) -- is the being-in-the-world itself. She tells us about the mystery of being in the world, the mystery of being a person -- G.H. stands for Gênero Humano (Human Genus – humankind). It also becomes evident that the protagonist in A hora da estrela [The Hour of the Star] – Macabéa – represents the Brazilian disgrace in all the oppression she is subject to: being poor, being unable to adapt, being a woman.

Macabéa is the face of Brazil. She is what everybody is. She’s a feminine version of Macunaíma (T.N.  a popular character from Mário de Andrade’s novel, Macunaíma, o herói do Brasil), an anti-heroine from Brazil, but possessing a huge universality.
(Suzana Amaral, moviemaker, director of The Hour of the Star)

Macabéa is our most tragic face. Above all, in the words of the Sorbonne scholar,

This is a meditation on the last hour. The wonderful and unthinkable hour, the hour towards which we lean, as though towards truth. My truth, our truth, this foreigner, this stranger whose face we were promised we would see in the end.

(Hélène Cixious, in: The Hour of Clarice Lispector)

Besides the philosophical thinking that expresses itself through feminine and Socratic irony, there is an ethic in Clarice’s writing: an authentic charity and a profound respect for her fellow creatures, for the child and the beggar, for the mismatched family ties, for unhappy love stories, for our finitude.

But don’t let yourself be tricked. She also wrote stories. A rich young woman meets a beggar. In six pages, it’s the Gospel, or the Genesis. No, I’m not exaggerating...

(Hélène Cixious, op. cit.)


Her watery eyes reflect the world. Thence the permanent plunge into the beingness of things, the constant exercise of philosophical wonder – the perplexity of the first thinkers.

Clarice said forever in Água viva [Live Water]:

I, who live sidewise, I’m to the left of whoever comes in. And in me the world trembles.

And very often, the world of our misery too. Nevertheless, it’s essential to stress that, unlike Kafka, Beckett, Maurice Blanchot or Cioran – her peers – who remained necessarily in the closeness of being, in the deadlock and the angst, she celebrates uncertainty! ... For the first time, there appears in a literary work the acceptance and the celebration of the act of questioning as a privileged form of courage. The courage of hope:


Do you know that hope sometimes consists only of a question without an answer?

A maçã no escuro [The Apple in the Dark]


It’s the acceptance and the celebration of the necessity and the neediness, of the human incompleteness itself. In the last pages of her Passion she says:

Oh! My love, don’t be afraid of neediness: it is our greatest destiny.

Like the poet who expands and dissolves himself in the world and nature, in the manner of the Creator, Clarice, who is not afraid of incompleteness, grows and expands herself in the last paragraphs of A Paixão segundo G.H.:


I was now so much bigger that I could not see myself anymore. As big as a landscape in the distance. I was in the distance. More perceptible in my ultimate mountains and in my most remote rivers.

(…) how can I say it, if not timidly like this: life is it self my self. Life is it self my self, and I don’t understand what I say. And then I adore.


Clarice Lispector’s work is a long poem in prose that performs an oblique cut into reality in order to illuminate it with her vision and to carve in it the adventure of her writing.



Clarice at the piano




In the first public meeting of the ALACL (Association of Readers and Friends of Clarice Lispector’s ), which took place at the Biblioteca Nacional (National Library) in Rio, 1995, we asked all those present why they were interested in Clarice’s work. Actress Maria Esmeralda, her constant collaborator, declared:

Clarice fascinates me and frightens me, because she seems to know more about me than myself.




Others had already said:

It was Clarice playing
Deeper still
Where the word seems to meet
Its reason for being
And portraying man.



Clarice doesn’t denounce, she doesn’t tell, she doesn’t narrate nor does she picture anything – she carves a tunnel in which she suddenly replaces the searched for object in its unexpected essence.

LÚCIO CARDOSO, writer, moviemaker, painter and a great friend.


Clarice’s work recodifies and reinterprets in contemporary poetic prose the Kabalistic beliefs. For the Kabala, as well as for Clarice herself, existence reveals itself explicitly and structures itself in the certainty of the Mystery that allows humanity to exercise its freedom (ZOHAR); Creation is not a comprehension, it’s a new mystery -- Visão do esplendor [Vision of the Splendor].

ESTER SCHWARTZ, M.A., professor, co-director of ALACL


 … (You get a thousand waves that I don’t get, I feel like a little radio, only receiving the station on the corner and you receive radar, television, and short waves. It’s funny, you hit me and you enrich me at the same time, and that hurts a little,  it makes me feel less safe and secure.

RUBEM BRAGA, writer and friend.



The development of certain important themes in the fiction of Clarice Lispector belongs in the context of the philosophy of existence, composed of doctrines which, although differing in their conclusions, have the same starting point: the Kierkegardian intuition of the pre-reflexive, individual and dramatic character of human existence. It deals  with issues such as angst, nothing, failure, language, communication between consciousness, some of which traditional philosophy had ignored or relegated to a second plane.

BENEDITO NUNES, philosopher, critic, writer.


I didn’t write to you about your short stories book, Family Ties, for sheer shyness of telling you what I think. Here it is: it is the most important collection of stories published in this country since Machado de Assis.

ÉRICO VERÍSSIMO, writer and friend.


Where were you at night
You who return in the morning
with the ultra-world in your veins 
among abyssal flowers?

We were in the most distant
that the letter can reach:
reading Clarice’s book,
mystery and key in the air.


There is a Brazilian literature B. C. (before Clarice) and another A.C. (after Clarice). From the national narrative, inherited from the founding fathers of fiction in the 19th century and renovated in the 20th century through the modernist avant-gardes “à la chose”, to Clarice’s text, in which what is narrated is not exactly the most important thing, the distance was immense.

MARIA CONSUELO CAMPOS, PhD, professor, writer, co-director of ALACL

Clarice Lispector requires researchers that are willing to work with specific books, refusing the totalizing model of historiographic criticism.

REGINA ZILBERMAN, PhD, professor, writer.

Nowadays it is not excessive anymore to say that, in the culture of modernity, Clarice belongs in the lineage of creators touched by uneasiness, of those who follow the imperatives of the pulsion more than the laws that preside over formal conventions.

LÚCIA HELENA VIANNA, PhD, professor, writer, co-director of ALACL.




CIXOUS, Hélène

Entre l’Écriture, Des femmes, Paris, 1986

A Hora de Clarice Lispector, Exodus, Rio, 1999 , Bilingual edition, translated by Rachel Gutiérrez


GOTLIB, Nádia Batella

Clarice, Uma vida que se conta,  Editora Ática, São Paulo, 1995   

Obras Completas, Rocco, 1999

NUNES, Benedito
O dorso do tigre, Editora Perspectiva, São Paulo, 1969
O Drama da Linguagem, Ática, São Paulo, 1989

VIANNA, Lúcia Helena
O figurativo inominável, lecture presented at the Casa de Rui Barbosa, Rio de Janeiro, for the Association of Readers and Friends of Clarice Lispector (ALACL), in 1998. Published in Clarice Lispector, a narração do indizível (Clarice Lispector, the narration of the unspeakable), Artes e Ofícios, Porto Alegre, 1998

Waldman, Berta
O estrangeiro em Clarice Lispector (The Foreigner in Clarice Lispector), in Clarice Lispector, a narração do indizível, op.cit.

zilberman, Regina
A estrela e seus críticos(The Star and its Critics), in: Clarice Lispector, idem.

SCHWARTZ, Ester Wengrover
A ética cabalística em Clarice Lispector (Kabbalistic Ethics in Clarice Lispector’s Work), lecture presented at the Casa de Leitura, Rio de Janeiro, for the ALACL, in 1997.


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