A Breath of Life

Clarice Lispector Johnny Lorenz Benjamin Moser


A Breath of Life

A Breath of Life

  • Title: A Breath of Life
  • Author: Clarice Lispector Johnny Lorenz Benjamin Moser
  • ISBN: 9780811219624
  • Page: 298
  • Format: Paperback



A mystical dialogue between a male author a thinly disguised Clarice Lispector and his her creation, a woman named Angela, this posthumous work has never before been translated Lispector did not even live to see it published.At her death, a mountain of fragments remained to be structured by Olga Borelli These fragments form a dialogue between a god like author who inA mystical dialogue between a male author a thinly disguised Clarice Lispector and his her creation, a woman named Angela, this posthumous work has never before been translated Lispector did not even live to see it published.At her death, a mountain of fragments remained to be structured by Olga Borelli These fragments form a dialogue between a god like author who infuses the breath of life into his creation the speaking, breathing, dying creation herself, Angela Pralini The work s almost occult appeal arises from the perception that if Angela dies, Clarice will have to die as well And she did.


Recent Comments "A Breath of Life"

The warning label on the cover should read; only a few paragraphs, at most two pages at a time. This is the breathless language of a woman dying-both the narrator and the author herself-who is, in my reading, searching to locate and exist in the true present moment of unadulterated experience. Lispector writes in a way that creates for the reader this experience. How this is done is not explainable. I'm not sure I want it explained willing to leave some things to magic. This feat does make, A Br [...]

“This is not a lament, it’s the cry of a bird of prey. An iridescent and restless bird. The kiss upon the dead face.I write as if to save somebody’s life. Probably my own. Life is a kind of madness that death makes. Long live the dead because we live in them.”I loved the above section from this author’s book.Clarice Lispector began this book in 1974 and finished it in 1977, on the eve of her death. She was slowly dying from ovarian cancer. This author was a tremendous loss to Latin Ame [...]

4.5/5There will be a year in which there will be a month, in which there will be a week in which there will be a day in which there will be an hour in which there will be a minute in which there will be a second and in that second will be the sacred not-time of death transfigured.I read what I'd written and thought once again: from what violent chasms is my most intimate intimacy nourished, why does it deny itself so much and flee to the domain of ideas?Everyone has a ritual, yes? I'd say religi [...]

Clarice Lispector may well have been a genius – indeed I think it likely given both her reputation in Latin America and the reactions of readers I respect here on – but so far, over four books, my experience has been one of, mostly, not feeling up to the task of reading her, I suspect because I lack the necessary trust to follow her on her seemingly mapless flights. The Passion of G.H. I liked, because, being wedded to a described external reality, it seemed less mapless, and its lurches in [...]

I am going to exercise caution, and out of respect for others faith and strong beliefs I will refrain from commenting too strongly on what I have just finished reading here. It is obvious to me that Clarice Lispector thought a great deal about her own death and dying. The book is highly meditative. It also felt quite Catholic to me, and I have no idea whether Lispector was Catholic or not. I myself was raised a Lutheran which frankly ended badly for me. I am also a recovering alcoholic and drug [...]

In order to write I must place myself in the void. In this void is where I exist intuitively. But it’s a terribly dangerous void: it’s where I wring out blood. I’m a writer who fears the snares of words: the words I say hide others — which? maybe I’ll say them. Writing is a stone cast down a deep well.*I write very simple and very naked. That’s why it wounds. I’m a gray and blue landscape. I rise in a dry fountain and in the cold light.*Could I be betraying myself? Could I be alter [...]

of the four lispector novels released by new directions this year, this is the only one not to have appeared previously in english translation. originally published the year after she died, a breath of life (sopro de vida) finds the brazilian writer revisiting the familiar milieu of existential musings, meditative reveries, and contemplations on the nature of mortality common throughout her works. cleverly offered as an ongoing dialogue between the author (an autobiographically-tinted male count [...]

¿Por qué amé este libro? Lo cuento en mi entrada: todo-mi-ser/2016/Porque no encontramos la salvación en esta vida e intentamos buscar una realidad distinta.Porque vivimos en el primer instante, pero morimos en el siguiente.Porque escribimos dentro de nuestras propias limitaciones.Porque nacemos por pura casualidad y morimos por obligación.Porque nuestras palabras no llevan tinta, sino sangre.Porque

Yow. This was new and different for me. Checked out a bunch of her other works and am excited to read more.

Creo que mi implacable voracidad lectora juega en contra de libros como este. Libros cuya brevedad, lejos de incitar el consumo a contrarreloj, implica un descenso de la velocidad necesario para detenerse a contemplar el paisaje. Y es que Un soplo de vida es una de las mejores meditaciones sobre la inspiración y creatividad literaria que he leído nunca. Un asombroso ejercicio de reflexión sobre el oficio de escritor, el proceso de construcción de una obra y el poder transformador de la liter [...]

An unnamed male author creates a female character, Angela Pralini, to act as a vessel for his thoughts. The two sets of dialogues soon become conjoined; the myriad reflections on writing, identity, and anxiety become a discourse the two share, proving that a fictionalization of oneself—for an artist—is akin to living if only through someone else.Lispector's fragmentary style, which is wonderfully done in The Passion According to G.H is here even more fragmentary and a bit less contained for [...]

A Breath of Life is another superb book by Clarice Lispector, read many years ago and a 5-stars read. Review to follow.

Awestruck and no words ~ can't begin to think capture is possible ~ of relating what can only be experienced by reading (and certainly not just once) these slim but packed gemstones (read 5 of her novels (so far)) between two covers of an author who writes as dreamily as she herself appears. These ethereal meditations, ostensibly stories with narrators and characters are voyeur scenes designed to draw the reader into intimacy of group experience oneness like séance gatherings where spontaneous [...]

Oh my. What a writer! Clarice Lispector is a beautiful writer, a brutally honest writer, which isn't to say she doesn't lie or weave fictions, but she gets at the heart of things. She gets at the bloody messy root of things with practically every sentence. I probably shouldn't have started with A Breath of Life, her last and most obscure (not to mention unfinished) work, but I couldn't help it. As soon as I picked up the book in the store and read the first few sentences, I was irrevocably drawn [...]

Complejo diálogo profundamente metafísico entre un autor y su creación literaria que le sirve para tratar reflexivamente sobre el fenómeno creativo; parece mentira que esta fuera la primera obra que leía de la autora pero el misticismo subyacente en la conversación me resultó particularmente hermoso en su inaccesibilidad.

This was my pick for the Read Harder task "set in Central or South America, written by a Central or South American author."I chose Lispector because I'd never heard of her, wanted to know more, and to my knowledge I haven't read a book set in Brazil or by a Brazilian author. It is hard to explain my reaction to this book. It is about an author who creates a character and then watches this character live and then die. I found it moving and disturbing. It also reminded me of Sputnik Sweetheart in [...]

- The book is obviously written by a dying person as reflection of life, which makes it hard for a reader like me, who lacks worldly experience to relate to it.- The book has no plot, it is a book about nothing. instead, the narrative is pure stream of consciousness about feelings and associations.- There is some interesting gender confusion when it comes to narrator. The "author" is implied to be a man, but Lispector's own voice sometimes breaks through and occasional feminine pronouns are used [...]

I'm a little surprised by the glowing reviews this has received. Although I'm in favor of taking from books those parts that speak to you--and there is much in this book that speaks to anyone who writes or otherwise attempts to "wring out blood" in the creative act--I feel that A Breath of Life is, on the whole, a minor work and one that suffers from the fact that it was incomplete at the time of Lispector's death. Its rawness has a certain energy to it, but it feels too uneven to be considered [...]

"Quero escrever movimento puro" Estou ouvindo música. Debussy usa as espumas do mar morrendo na areia, refluindo e fluindo. Bach é matemático. Mozart é o divino impessoal. Chopin conta a sua vida mais íntima. Schoenberg, através de seu eu, atinge o clássico eu de todo o mundo. Beethoven é a emulsão humana em temspestade procurando o divino e só o alcançando na morte. Quanto a mim, que não peço música, só chego ao limiar da palavra nova. Sem coragem de expô-la. Meu vocabulário é [...]

My bullshit meter is broken. Or else, this book made it go haywire. My opinion changed line to line. So many beautiful passages resonated with me. But then some parts made me laugh out loud at their moody pretentiousness. Phrases like "the apocalyptic orgasm of my existence." Then again, "wanting to understand is one of the worst things that could happen to me."

Every book I read by Clarice Lispector is better than the last.

A Breath of Life is a collection of hundreds of fragments, structured and arranged by Olga Borelli after the death of Clarice Lispector, at 57, of ovarian cancer. More than any of Lispector’s other works, this final book is for the true believers, the obsessive fans -- a group not small in number! Specifically, it is right to turn to this book if you loved Agua Viva, a book in some ways similar. If you read Agua Viva and thought, “What’s the point?”, then turn to the stories or to the cr [...]

It's Clarice Lispector. This book was not put together before she died. But when every sentence is its own world, does it matter? Not for me. Here are some quotes:"The future is a past that has not yet come to pass. Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?""Everything I just said is worthless, no more than foam.""To write I begin by stripping myself of words. I prefer the poor words left over.""This is a book of non-memoirs. It is happening right now, it doesn't matter when this righ [...]

Un libro para gente que lleva el deseo fuerte de morir, de recurrir al corte vital del pulso, poético, antropogénico. Leer a Lispector con el pecho abierto es contraproducente para la familia del suicida, leerla con las sombras cerca y la mente en ralentí puede ser interesante si se desea vivir en muerte o morir en vida pero sin tener la más mínima intención de matarse o al menos de morir pronto. Lúcida compañía para el amparo que nunca tendremos, lleno de referencias musicales, literar [...]

ANGELA: I love you as much as if I were always bidding you farewell. When I'm too alone, I fasten rattles to my ankles and wrists. That way almost all my thoughts are externalized and return to me as replies. My slightest energy makes them vibrate immediately in a quiver of light and sound. I have to be my friend or else I can't bear the solitude. When I am alone I try not to think because I am afraid of suddenly thinking a thing too new for myself.

Reading Clarice Lispector makes me feel like I am losing my mind, but losing it in the right direction. Stars don't feel like the right rating system—more like actual stars, like if you hold them you burn your hand.

I'm not gonna pretend I got it entirely, but this book is nevertheless one of the best I've ever read.

Another "miss" for me--This is my fourth Lispector, but I had a bad feeling when I read the book's summary that it's about a dialogue between an author and the literary character he creates (a metafictional move that I'm allergic to), and the bad feeling proved prophetic. Like her Agua Viva, this book didn't do it for me because of the seeming pointlessness of the "dialogue" (though that may be the point and there were some interesting thoughts about artistic creation because of it), leaving me [...]

I am enamoured. Clarice Lispector's language sparkles with depth and her philosophical assertions leave me breathless. This book is incomplete, published after her death, which makes the book's obsession, even love, of death so much more significant. But perhaps the most obvious focus of the book was its central theme of writing, creation and existence as a created being (out of words?). There is a lot of talk about signification, and the author in the book communicates with his own literary cre [...]

Yah, yah, indeed I'm going to be rereading this over the weekend (along with some Lacan/Jung which I kept thinking back to whilst reading this). Even when I edit this with the book fresh in mind, if you're looking for a proper review of this book then you're reading the wrong one. There are a few experiences had which weaves itself effortlessly into this novella that writing about it to explain why I gave this book five stars whilst simultaneously "properly reviewing" is going to be impossible. [...]


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    Published :2018-09-14T19:07:10+00:00