Lendo Clarice Lispector, "Perdoando Deus"

Leitura do conto de Clarice Lispector, "Perdoando Deus," publicado em  Felicidade Clandestina.

Colaboração com a biblioteca sonora "Clarice 100 Ears," organizado por Marília Librandi com apoio do Brazil LAB, Princeton University.

Link para podcast com leitura do conto.

Um pouco mais sobre Clarice Lispector e o projeto "Clarice 100 Ears"

“Entre o relógio, uma máquina e o silêncio havia uma orelha à escuta…”

“Amidst the clock, the typewriter and the silence there was an ear listening…” 

With these opening words, the twenty-three years old Clarice Lispector (1920-1977) burst onto the literary scene with her debut novel Perto do Coração Selvagem (Near to the Wild Heart) in 1943. 

The award-winning book inaugurated Clarice’s career spanning over three decades as an ever-probing novelist, short-story writer, journalist, translator, children’s-book author and columnist, and establishing her as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century and beyond. 

Clarice 100 Ears is a multilingual and open-ended sonic library, celebrating Clarice’s centennial. The platform gathers writers, artists, scholars, and everyday readers from Brazil and around the world giving voice to Clarice’s writings.

The podcasts respond to this initial question: 

O que Clarice sussurra ao seu ouvido? 

What does Clarice whisper in your ear? 

Born in Ukraine on December 10, 1920, to parents fleeing anti-Semitic persecution, Clarice Lispector arrived in northeastern Brazil in 1922, where she was reborn brasileira: a Brazilian woman from the Northeast, as was Macabéa, the memorable protagonist of A Hora da Estrela (The Hour of the Star), published right before Clarice’s untimely passing in 1977. 

To celebrate Clarice’s life and work is a way to embrace all immigrants, all languages and silences, and the freedom of imagination. 

“Sinto que já cheguei quase à liberdade. A ponto de não precisar mais escrever. Se eu pudesse, deixava meu lugar nesta página em branco: cheio do maior silêncio. E cada um que olhasse o espaço em branco, o encheria com seus próprios desejos.” 

“I feel I have almost achieved my freedom. To the point of no longer needing to write. If I could, I would leave my space on this page blank: filled with the greatest silence. And readers, on seeing this blank space, would fill it with their own desires.”