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A review by aelumi
Água Viva by Clarice Lispector
3.0
you are a form of being i, and i a form of being you: those are the limits of my possibility.
the experience of reading água viva is like being submerged underwater, engulfed in thousands of whispers incessantly shaping the ever-passing instant.
it never began and never will end.
meditative in every sense of the word, it’s a laboriously seducing read that seems to linger on upon the moment of closing, however strangely.
i love the ugly with the love of equals (…) i—i am my own death.
(…) the horrible duty is to go to the end.
the experience of reading água viva is like being submerged underwater, engulfed in thousands of whispers incessantly shaping the ever-passing instant.
it never began and never will end.
meditative in every sense of the word, it’s a laboriously seducing read that seems to linger on upon the moment of closing, however strangely.
i love the ugly with the love of equals (…) i—i am my own death.
(…) the horrible duty is to go to the end.