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The Hour of the Star

Clarice Lispector

Paperback | Pages: 96 pages

Rating: 4 | 15053 Users | 1217 Reviews

Present Out Of Books The Hour of the Star

Title	:	The Hour of the Star
Author	:	Clarice Lispector
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	Special Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 96 pages
Published	:	February 17th 1992 by New Directions (first published October 26th 1977)
Categories	:	Fiction. Classics. Cultural. Brazil

Explanation As Books The Hour of the Star

The Hour of the Star, Clarice Lispector's consummate final novel, may well be her masterpiece. Narrated by the cosmopolitan Rodrigo S.M., this brief, strange, and haunting tale is the story of Macabéa, one of life's unfortunates. Living in the slums of Rio de Janeiro and eking out a poor living as a typist, Macabéa loves movies, Coca-Cola, and her rat of a boyfriend; she would like to be like Marylin Monroe, but she is ugly, underfed, sickly, and unloved. Rodrigo recoils from her wretchedness, and yet he cannot avoid realization that for all her outward misery, Macabéa is inwardly free. She doesn't seem to know how unhappy she should be. Lispector employs her pathetic heroine against her urbane, empty narrator--edge of despair to edge of despair--and, working them like a pair of scissors, she cuts away the reader's preconceived notions about poverty, identity, love, and the art of fiction. In her last novel she takes readers close to the true mystery of life, and leaves us deep in Lispector territory indeed.

Declare Books During The Hour of the Star

Original Title:	A Hora da Estrela
ISBN:	0811211908 (ISBN13: 9780811211901)
Edition Language:	English
Setting:	Rio de Janeiro(Brazil)

Rating Out Of Books The Hour of the Star

Ratings: 4 From 15053 Users | 1217 Reviews

Weigh Up Out Of Books The Hour of the Star

"I swear this book is made without words. It is a mute photograph. This book is a silence. This book is a question."Benjamin Moser's translation of Clarice Lispector's final work is extraordinary. He preserves her unusual word order and her way of bringing new meaning to ordinary words, and the result is an absorbing work that brings the reader right up against existential questions of language and life, questions Lispector was confronting as she completed this novella shortly before her death.

Ive been putting off any attempt at writing on this one because: A) its rather a challenge without spoilers (although, depending on how one reads the title, the very idea of spoiler is rather silly) and B) this is one I would expect casual readers to dislikeintensely. Which leads me to: You have confused the true and the real. A line that Elizabeth Hand, in Fantasy & Science Fiction calls Dhalgrens minatory epigraph. Im not a reader of F&SF or Ms Hand, but, dammit, they both deserve

4.5/5It was a grave mistake to commit to a binge of 200 or less page works, especially after so long a stint of the eighth longest novel in existence, third longest in English (looking at you, Women and Men) because I had forgotten how utterly manic tiny works can leave me. Can, because this is not a common complaint, as the last time this happened was with poor Zweig's Chess Story that left me bawling in my brain and stone cold in my expression. You should try it some time. I don't really mean

I returned to Clarice Lispector in the hopes of finding an appreciation for her that I missed in The Passion According to G.H., which confounded and tortured me in its nonsensical, philosophical maze. I hoped to redeem my less-than-stellar opinion of her by reading this, her last work.Sadly, even in the first few paragraphs, I was sighing. Clarice! For fuck's sake... Clarice, as it turns out, is still Clarice. And by that I mean, Clarice is a brilliant wackadoodle whose utter originality sets

So Mr. Moser does the Lispector biography which I plan on reading soon as it arrives in my waiting hands, but then I read this bit here that Moser himself translated and he is making his comments of gushing praise for it saying that the book was the very first exposure he had to Lispector's genius and I am at the very same time finding myself getting a little bit sick to my stomach with all this loving on her, though I do realize she was beautiful in a Marlene Dietrich sort of way, and I also

"(If the reader is financially secure and enjoys the comforts of life, he must step out of himself and see how others live. If he is poor, he will not be reading this story because what I have to say is superfluous for anyone who often feels the pangs of hunger. Here I am acting as a safety-valve for you and the tedious bourgeoisie. I know that it is very frightening to step out of oneself, but then everything which is unfamiliar can be frightening. The anonymous girl of this story is so ancient

In this remarkable novella Clarice Lispector uses an intricate narrative structure in order to represent a peculiar state of mind, something I found utterly refreshing. That mind belongs to Rodrigo, a well-off and cultured man, struggles to tell the story of Macabéa, an unhygienic, sickly, unlovable, completely forgettable person, and an altogether unideal typist living in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. She is taken almost directly from stereotype. What Lispector does with her however, is