ua viva (1973 original; edició 2012)

A fascinating attempt to write a philosophical 'novel,' and one which should appeal to readers of the Camuses and Satres as well as those searching for new forms! I say attempt, because I'm pretty sure this is a failed attempt! Lispector's translators all bemoan the difficulty of getting her idiosyncratic Portugese into English, and I have to think, from the two novels I've read, that nobody's succeeded, because this (and The Passion) both sound like over-awed teenagers who've just realised they're allowed to use their brains, but don't really have the skills with words needed to, you know, get their brains out into the public!

Lispector was clearly very intelligent; her thought in here is much better than the older existentialist-novel types, and would probably repay close study! But I just can't read books in which every sentence seems like it should have Spanish-style exclamation points before and after! Is this just because I'm so hemmed into the Anglophone tradition that I've lost touch with my inner excitable child?! Perhaps! But I'm too old to really care! If I want to read musings on the nature of time and memory, I'll stick to Proust, Woolf and, in a pinch, Bergson! And even Henri's a little too over the top for me! So Lispector probably never stood a chance! ( )

Lispector's novel is, well a novel may not be the right word, a collection of philosophical musings or the distillation of a landscape of thought might be a better way to put it. Either way it is an excellent read that engages a deep and idiosyncratic specificity that blossoms outward to the universal. Her authorship is arresting and befuddling in the best way possible. I can't wait to come back to Água Viva. ( )

Comincia in maniera straordinaria e poi finisce per annoiare. Ok, è un flusso di coscienza e come tale va letto, ma non è coinvolgente in alcun modo. Perde il brio della primissima parte, purtroppo. ( )

Un lunghissimo flusso di coscienza, quasi scrittura automatica per raccontare il proprio amore per la vita, l'unico ininterrotto desiderio di inventarsi.
Un libro meraviglioso, intenso in cui ritroviamo i temi cari all'autrice: l'incomunicabilità tra chi si ama, il dolore, la morte. ( )

Makes me wonder if we gave up on our stupid high school questions about life too soon. The questions remain, we can either sit with them or ignore them. ( )