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4.04 AVERAGE
4.04 AVERAGE
dark
funny
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
My second read from Lispector, and she may already be one of my favorite authors. A short, simple story of a girl, but told with such unique narration.
fast-paced
Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad because what is fully mature is very close to rotting
Menuda maravilla 💔
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I just finished The Hour of the Star, and I still feel a bit lost. I can’t stop thinking about Macabéa not because she was full of life, but because she had so little of it, and still tried to make the best of what she had. She was invisible to the world, ignored, unloved, and poor. But she wasn’t bitter. She was quiet, soft, and somehow full of hope, even when life gave her no reason to be.
What really stayed with me is how she accepted her suffering like it was normal. The narrator, Rodrigo, says, “She thought it was natural to suffer.” That broke my heart. It made me think about people who are treated badly for so long that they forget they deserve anything else. Macabéa didn’t even know what she was missing love, kindness, attention and maybe that’s what makes her death even harder to take.
There’s a part where she visits Madame Carlota, the fortune teller, and for the first time in her life, someone tells her something good. “Your life is going to change,” Carlota says. And Macabéa believes it with her whole heart. She lights up. She finally feels seen. But instead of a happy ending, she steps out and dies. That hit me in a way I didn’t expect. I was angry. I kept thinking, why give her false hope? Why let her dream for the first time, only to take it away? But maybe that’s the point Clarice Lispector wanted to make. Sometimes the world gives people a small taste of hope a lie and then leaves them with nothing.
There’s a line that really destroyed me:
“Macabéa, half ferocious, half clumsy, planted a cracking kiss on Madame Carlota’s cheek. And she felt again that the life was already getting better, right then and there: because it was good to kiss. When she was little, since she didn’t have anyone to kiss, she’d kissed the wall. When she caressed someone else caressing herself.”
That image is so sad and so human. A girl who had no one to love or touch, who kissed walls as a child, now believing that one kiss might be the beginning of a better life. It broke me.
Even Rodrigo, the narrator, admits that he struggles to tell her story. He says, “I’m more real than the character I’m inventing.” And that really bothered me, because even in death, Macabéa is surrounded by people who can’t fully see her, not even the person telling her story.
This book left me feeling grief, guilt, and tenderness. I wanted Macabéa to live. I wanted her to feel real joy. She didn’t. But Clarice Lispector made sure I felt for her. And maybe that’s what makes this book so unforgettable.
What really stayed with me is how she accepted her suffering like it was normal. The narrator, Rodrigo, says, “She thought it was natural to suffer.” That broke my heart. It made me think about people who are treated badly for so long that they forget they deserve anything else. Macabéa didn’t even know what she was missing love, kindness, attention and maybe that’s what makes her death even harder to take.
There’s a part where she visits Madame Carlota, the fortune teller, and for the first time in her life, someone tells her something good. “Your life is going to change,” Carlota says. And Macabéa believes it with her whole heart. She lights up. She finally feels seen. But instead of a happy ending, she steps out and dies. That hit me in a way I didn’t expect. I was angry. I kept thinking, why give her false hope? Why let her dream for the first time, only to take it away? But maybe that’s the point Clarice Lispector wanted to make. Sometimes the world gives people a small taste of hope a lie and then leaves them with nothing.
There’s a line that really destroyed me:
“Macabéa, half ferocious, half clumsy, planted a cracking kiss on Madame Carlota’s cheek. And she felt again that the life was already getting better, right then and there: because it was good to kiss. When she was little, since she didn’t have anyone to kiss, she’d kissed the wall. When she caressed someone else caressing herself.”
That image is so sad and so human. A girl who had no one to love or touch, who kissed walls as a child, now believing that one kiss might be the beginning of a better life. It broke me.
Even Rodrigo, the narrator, admits that he struggles to tell her story. He says, “I’m more real than the character I’m inventing.” And that really bothered me, because even in death, Macabéa is surrounded by people who can’t fully see her, not even the person telling her story.
This book left me feeling grief, guilt, and tenderness. I wanted Macabéa to live. I wanted her to feel real joy. She didn’t. But Clarice Lispector made sure I felt for her. And maybe that’s what makes this book so unforgettable.
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
emotional
funny
inspiring
fast-paced