An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures
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- Update Date：2025-09-06
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- Author：Clarice Lispector
- ISBN：0241371368
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Summary
'One of the very great writers of the last century' Guardian
'Lispector had an ability to write as though no one had ever written before' Colm Tóibín
'He'd wait for her， she knew that now。 Until she learned'
Lóri yearns for love yet is scared of herself， and of connecting with another human。 When she meets Ulisses， a Professor of Philosophy， she is forced to confront her fears。 As both of them will learn， to be worthy of another person， they must first be fully themselves。 The book of which Clarice Lispector said， 'I humanized myself'， An Apprenticeship is about the ultimate unknowability of the other in a relationship， and what it means to love and be loved。
'Lispector had an ability to write as though no one had ever written before' Colm Tóibín
'He'd wait for her， she knew that now。 Until she learned'
Lóri yearns for love yet is scared of herself， and of connecting with another human。 When she meets Ulisses， a Professor of Philosophy， she is forced to confront her fears。 As both of them will learn， to be worthy of another person， they must first be fully themselves。 The book of which Clarice Lispector said， 'I humanized myself'， An Apprenticeship is about the ultimate unknowability of the other in a relationship， and what it means to love and be loved。
Reviews
Julia Eda
，
saí algumas vezes com um cara que nem o ulisses。 mandei tomar no cu。mas a lóri é uma personagem muito adorável e， como acontece com quase todas as protagonistas da clarice， senti uma forte identificação （quando comecei o livro， também me contorcia de cólica como a lóri， e quando ela não conseguia dormir， sentia como se tivesse bebido um copo cheio de café - são coincidências meio bobinhas， mas também ficava remoendo suas questões existenciais e suas divagações）。 percebi também o quanto a clarice saí algumas vezes com um cara que nem o ulisses。 mandei tomar no cu。mas a lóri é uma personagem muito adorável e， como acontece com quase todas as protagonistas da clarice， senti uma forte identificação （quando comecei o livro， também me contorcia de cólica como a lóri， e quando ela não conseguia dormir， sentia como se tivesse bebido um copo cheio de café - são coincidências meio bobinhas， mas também ficava remoendo suas questões existenciais e suas divagações）。 percebi também o quanto a clarice bebe da fonte da fenomenologia。 no fundo， o livro inteiro é a lóri aprendendo a ser-aí。 。。。more
Sungyena
，
V sensual， full of beautiful passages。 “She was drinking her coffee and thinking w/o words: my God， and to say that the night is full and that I’m full of the thick night that is dripping w the perfume of sweet almonds。” “With me you’ll speak your whole soul， even in silence。” Discombobulating format but an effective vehicle to get into the mentality of this feminine torrid whirlwind。 I felt caught in the turbulence。
Jessie
，
I always come away from Lispector's work feeling more strongly related to myself and to God I always come away from Lispector's work feeling more strongly related to myself and to God 。。。more
Oliviab
，
I’d never heard of Clarice Lispector until I read Lorrie Moore’s NY Books piece on her， in which she notes the huge disparity between Latin American and American/British writers’ reception to Lispector: the former unanimously declared her ‘Brazilian literature’s greatest writer’， whereas the latter were notably more ‘tepid’， with one even considering her books a worthy gift for ‘people you don’t like very much’。 As always， Lorrie Moore writes about her subject with astonishing finesse， capturing I’d never heard of Clarice Lispector until I read Lorrie Moore’s NY Books piece on her， in which she notes the huge disparity between Latin American and American/British writers’ reception to Lispector: the former unanimously declared her ‘Brazilian literature’s greatest writer’， whereas the latter were notably more ‘tepid’， with one even considering her books a worthy gift for ‘people you don’t like very much’。 As always， Lorrie Moore writes about her subject with astonishing finesse， capturing Lispector’s inimitable style with the phrase ‘epiphanic collage’。 I was sold by these praises and the literary clout that an undervalued female Latin American virtuoso promised。Before reading ‘An Apprenticeship’， I read ‘Report on the Thing’， an anxious rumination on a clock and its function as a quantifier of time， and found it intriguing， if a little too abstract。 But I enjoyed Lispector’s clear interest in philosophy， and thought it boded well for my venture into her other works; I naively assumed that the density of her metaphysical speculation was part of the short story’s ‘report’ format。 So I feel disappointed - both with Lispector and myself， for being such a philistine - that I found the highly introspective， conceptual quality of An Apprenticeship such a struggle to get through。 This is an intensely cerebral book exploring ontology and existentialism through the narrative of two lovers， whose chaste courtship spans the book’s entire length。 On paper， it sounded fascinating， and there are moments of crystalline insight into the paradox of existence。 But it’s just so protracted。 I like to earn my existential truths， to tease them out from the debris of quotidian life。 For Lori， the protagonist， material life is awash with the anguish of being， and her thoughts are presented in paragraph upon paragraph of raw， undiluted ontological meditation。 Lispector’s reams of prose makes Sartre’s fiction look positively snappy。The book picked up whenever Lori actually did anything。 The party scene， in which a full face of makeup becomes a protective ‘persona’ against the gaze of the other， is a better moment。 But her love interest， Ulisses， is so unbearably patronising and smug that I was longing for an unfortunate end to their love affair。 I suspect the sexy older philosophy professor archetype hasn’t aged too well: Ulisses’ life lessons may have once read as avuncular and sagacious， but now they read like mansplaining， particularly when interspersed with jealous questions about Lori’s sexual history。 If I were to pick this up without knowing Clarice Lispector’s reputation， I would say this book has potential。 It’s reminiscent of Plath， in the way that Lispector presents female turmoil in a rigidly patriarchal society and uses domestic chores as a conduit for existential thought。 But it’s bogged down by excess words， and as it is， it feels like a rough draft。 It looks like I can’t cross the cultural divide on this one。 。。。more
Berra
，
I wasn't sure what to expect of this book going in， given that its summary is so vague。。。 the book itself is strange and can be vague at times as well， but Lori's character was striking in how much she reminded me of myself， and of many other women I know。 There is something about her hold on reality （or lack thereof） that is very essentially feminine， as well as the shame with which she views her body or herself in relation to others。 At the same time， she can come off as a sort of manic pixie I wasn't sure what to expect of this book going in， given that its summary is so vague。。。 the book itself is strange and can be vague at times as well， but Lori's character was striking in how much she reminded me of myself， and of many other women I know。 There is something about her hold on reality （or lack thereof） that is very essentially feminine， as well as the shame with which she views her body or herself in relation to others。 At the same time， she can come off as a sort of manic pixie dream girl， or a narcissist， but there is some overlap between existentialism （to that degree） and narcissism。 One friend told me I was just victim-blaming。 The characters themselves can be sexist at times， Lori herself， as well as Ulisses， but there are times when one thinks that such a dynamic is more out of a desire to be protected and cared for than it is misogyny， although I suppose they might be connected in some way that I won't go into here。 Regardless， Lispector writes hauntingly， and while it might take me several more readings to understand everything she is trying to get at in this book， the things I have understood have left me baffled and touched， all the same。 。。。more
Rubi
，
breathtaking and bizarre
Lindsey
，
yeeeeeeessssssssss yes yes
Emma
，
ler isso foi um privilégio tão grande
Jason
，
“The Sun，” writes social anthropologist， librarian， and monkeyshines maven Georges Batailles in 1931， “exclusively loves the Night and directs its luminous violence， its ignoble shaft， toward the earth， but it finds itself incapable of reaching the gaze or the night， even though the nocturnal terrestrial expanses head continuously toward the indecency of the solar ray。” The essay from which this is excerpted—perhaps more accurately designated a pamphlet—is called “The Solar Anus，” and if its ant “The Sun，” writes social anthropologist， librarian， and monkeyshines maven Georges Batailles in 1931， “exclusively loves the Night and directs its luminous violence， its ignoble shaft， toward the earth， but it finds itself incapable of reaching the gaze or the night， even though the nocturnal terrestrial expanses head continuously toward the indecency of the solar ray。” The essay from which this is excerpted—perhaps more accurately designated a pamphlet—is called “The Solar Anus，” and if its antic provocations may at times seem half embarrassing， surely we who have had occasion to live beyond the means of our blinkered nervous systems are content to let Bataille have his cake and his excrement too if it helps hims keep potentially annihilating forces at work for the good guys （as it were）。 Welcome to planet earth。 If you want the full human package you are going to have to construct for yourself， though the tribe will surely balk， a bold and robust totally personal comsmology。 It is chancy。 Make it so personal that it becomes the whole universe as it has ever been， infinite and fluxal， like a river and its tide， swamp gas， Andrei Tarkovsky’s version of the planet Solaris， always at once moving more than two directions。 Look at this planet’s coordinated/discoordinated systems of weather， from the vantage of outer space。 Look at an MRI， the body and its weather。 While we’re at it and why not。 To get situated here is to be on an infinitely flat plane infinitely open。 That’s an open fact， meant to be used in an ongoing and versatile capacity。 Clarice Lispector， my hero， may be literature’s great waveform topologist to the undulant cosmos through which she is teaching herself and us to move， a matter addressed directly in 1969’s ecstatically transmogrifying AN APPRENTICESHIP OR THE BOOK OF PLEASURE， follow-up to the more universally known/beloved THE PASSION ACCORDING TO G。H。， which I think it has just surpassed as my personal favourite text in all the dadblasted pantheon， scout’s honour。 It is Lóri， foremost voice of the foam of the crest of this five-in-the-morning voice-wave， who thinks of herself as lunar， and though Bataille has plenty to say on the lunar just as he does the solar， I am already almost completely beyond need of him。 Simply: I have Lóri， the lunar one， or the lunar one betimes， beholden to inscrutable cycles， she who “pretends she’s clever enough to undo the knots of ship’s rope that were binding her wrists， pretends she has a basket of pearls just in order to look at the color of the moon since she is lunar…” Lóri， naturally， is yet another Lispector avatar dropper into the thick of the chaos and its magical homeostasis so as to work out a spiritual and creative practice in the face of a mode of intensive exposure at the limits where “on the verge of death and of the stars is a tenser vibration than the veins can stand。” Again， welcome to earth。 This is the deal。 For Lóri， uniquely in the Lispector oeuvre （especially should we relegate matters to the novels）， this exposure to the most intense of living intensities fields itself with respect to an “apprenticeship” which is unambiguously not only a love story but the most credible and immediately personally goddamn necessary such one that I've ever read in the whole of my outrageously volatile life。 To be ready for love in the universe is to have already fallen in love with the universe， and to be positively invaded by the effulgent physical experience of this supernatural love （complete with body without organs， nerve meter， and the whole Tantric Branching Christmas Tree， especially the feet and the tail bone and the perineum and all the lower parts the dancer Martha Graham demonstrates make us move）。 To live with the intensity and the nerves and the requisite care of self necessary to sustain a passion and an exhaustive taxonomy of the great pleasures: all there is to it， life and death， tee hee。 “She kept holding back a little as if holding the reins of a horse that could gallop off and taker her God knows where。” Not to burn up in the outer atmosphere; run a manual transmission。 The copulation of the sun and the moon may produce ecstasy just as it produces eternally rejuvenating rot， but the lunar Lóri， in experiencing the limits of desire for the beloved and the full intensive range of erotic excitation through the postponement of consummation with and within the beloved， beholds directly the living eternal that throws itself into the industrious labour of not getting burned up by that solar or losing the pleasure， becoming the apple core or wilted rose， falling prey to erotic fatedness of the sad passion and morbid reflection。 Or only just perhaps。 Eternally， anxiously 'perhaps。' At any rate， we know， whatever the confusion of certain commentators， that the cosmology and the pragmatic-balletic living ethic in AN APPRENTICESHIP OR THE BOOK OF PLEASURES is exactly the same as it was in THE PASSION ACCORDING TO G。H。， namely: affirmation of “the unquestionable blessing of existing materially，” though， yes， this blessing can be， in fact always is， to varying degrees like—à la Bakersfield， California country legend Buck Owens—getting y’all’s self hold of a tiger by the tail。 My journey with Clarice Lispector began in late May of 2016 when I commenced reading the handsome New Directions hardcover edition of the collected stories; I have subsequently gone on to read all the novels published in English translation， a campaign to which we largely owe the concerted efforts of Benjamin Moser。 Lispector’s body of work can be broken roughly into two distinct phases。 The authorial surrogates or avatars operative in Lispector’s early works are fundamentally split， very often presented as highly perspicacious and aggressively unconventional female subjects who experience an ontological or metaphysical vertigo of apperception made intelligible by the abyss of a gaze that gazes upon itself as indeterminately-valenced object of any number of potential other gazes， this naturally the condition of any desiring subject who desires and experiences cosmic flux from the standpoint of a tenuous and highly-excited corporeal conditionality。 In Lispector’s astonishing debut， 1943’s NEAR TO THE WILD HEART， the protagonist， Joana， uncomfortable with her persistent status as split subject of the apperceptive-phenomenal， in the Kantian sense， yearns to merge with the “thing in itself，” a communion that does not appear to finally arrive at a site of proper creative and indeed genuine poetical-spiritual praxis until 1964’s magisterial THE PASSION ACCORDING TO G。H。 and ’69's AN APPRENTICESHIP， proper romantic twin to its immediate predecessor， from which the conveniently confused appear to regularly believe it a somewhat confounding deviation， this doubtlessly having something to do with some of the legacy of second wave feminism and perhaps a sense of betrayal some readers experience in a woman’s fulfillment found to be localized within the internalized experience of mystical rapture achieved through deference to a reified agent of patriarchal authority rather than through some kind of resistant form of female solidarity， though for Lispector the point would have to be moot， as her love story is first of all about the condition of extreme preciousness or rarity that makes all intensive bonds necessary， life and death， rather than merely flattering or pacifying。 For Lóri， well along the path of an apprenticeship that is intended to bequest for her the living fulfillment that is her occluded birthright as risen manifestation of a rarified and obscure tradition， this an apprenticeship both imposed and elective， there is a mandate attendant to the gift and curse （the Pharmakon， if you will） of a rarefied status that has to be of and within the God: “I can’t have a petty life because it wouldn’t match the absoluteness of death。” The absoluteness of death cancels out the petty life which instantaneously makes room for the absoluteness of life within the absoluteness of death which is the living eternal which already opens the door to the door which loves promises to open （meaning that this is a novel， like our lives， set， until it isn’t， in an antechamber）。 Whatever else we know about the living eternal and the myriad means to gain its proximity， we know that it only courts—and only lends itself to external seduction by—a rare breed of inscrutably-selected adept。 Hélène Cixous， placed on the side of life by her death-shrouded friend Jacques Derrida， was an early Clarice Lispector superfan and advocate， authoring 2016’s DEATH SHALL BE DETHRONED in due course， its title consciously， I think， divesting Lispector’s old apples of any incipient wormy decay。 It is what is gained when we gain love， gain God， and gain the whole infinite riddle-in-show: we gain the de-occupation of that death's throne。 What Lóri gains and will doubtlessly lose again and gain again， cyclic， seasonal or supraseasonal: “She wondered for an instant if death could interfere with the heavy pleasure of being alive。 And the answer was that not even the idea of death could manage to disturb the boundless dark field in which everything was throbbing thick， heavy and happy。 Death has lost its glory。” This is the why and question， and once it has cracked open your ribcage like a footlocker there probably isn’t any going back， hence the need for that standard transmission and the ministrations of the God and of the lover who mutely heals and is mutely healed。 “He was a man， she was a woman， and a miracle more extraordinary than this could only be compared to the falling star that crosses the black sky almost imaginarily and leaves as its trail the vivid amazement of a living Universe。 He was a man and she was a woman。” The basic elements are what start to give the chaos form， and there is no more basic element than two coupled bodies， separate and not， writhing or serene， given over to the heat， or quiet in the anxious momentarily painless pause of a lunar silence。 Early in AN APPRENTICESHIP OR THE BOOK OF PLEASURES we have a version of Lóri who belongs to the lineage of those earlier split Lispector avatars， not surprising then that we find this gazing gazed-upon subject apprising herself in the mirror， as the young Lispector often has her characters do。 “It then seemed to her， mulling things over， that there wasn’t a man or woman who hadn’t chanced to look in the mirror and been taken aback。 For a fraction of a second the person saw herself as an object to be looked at， which could be called narcissism but， already influenced by Ulisses， she’d call: pleasure in being。 To find in the external figure the echoes of the internal figure: ah， so it’s true I wasn’t just imagining it: I exist。” There is an unmistakable echo of THE PASSION ACCORDING TO G。H。 a page later， as “time is divided， three thousand years according to what Lóri felt，” during the time it takes for her to walk to the window。 Another salient parallel with PASSION here is the repeated reference to “the God，” a terminological quirk that the older， longer practicing amorous/spiritual supplicant， the philosophy professor Ulisses， actually compels Lóri to explain， which she more than capably does， tapping the Spinzoist core of Lispector， this a matter of thought and soul and God and material things （modes and attributions） all being， as Lóri states， “substantive like substance。” To gain God is to gain the Other， the World， and the Dormant God-Self。 Earlier in the novel: “A party， my God， the world is a party that ends in death and in the scent of a wilted carnation in a buttonhole。 I love you， God， precisely because I don’t know if you exist。 I want a sign that you exist。 I knew an ordinary woman who didn’t ask herself questions about God: she loved beyond the question about God。 So God existed。 When I die I want carnations attached to my white dress。 But not jasmine， which I love so much and which would suffocate my death。 After my death I’ll only wear white。 And I’ll meet the one I want: the person I want will also be wearing white。” It just so happens that I read AN APPRENTICESHIP OR THE BOOK OF PLEASURES having found the one I want， a woman younger than myself， currently residing in a different city from myself， she all the different kinds of white and more and all the different kinds of blackest black also， rarest rarity， the only dream that has to be real and has to come true because it is what Gertrude Stein and Clarice Lispector would equally prioritize as the true impossible。 This impossible and absolutely certain younger woman， certainly the certainty of the ineffaceable arrival of herself， to whom I am finding myself giving this impossibly full time to the waiting-for-of， is， like Lóri， an ascended ancient， pure continuity of archaic form， and also afraid of pain， vexed at the having-to-eventually-die of life， talk of compost and cycles not especially effective at opening the gates to the sacred pleasures when the pall descends on her （as it does and shall do）。 Lóri begins with the physical pain of confusing， terrorizing worlded life that is like a bucket of slop with the pleasures hidden at the bottom。 “She thought now that the ability to bear suffering was the measure of a person’s greatness and saved that person’s inner life。” That's why an apprenticeship， firstly。 For the young woman I am attempting to learn to love the way she and only she needs to be loved: I had to learn all the languages of suffering and learn to love the God that is the Other and Me and Everything Else and though I cannot teach you how to do that with language and doctrines， I can model it in my living practice and I can do the work of having lived my destiny messily to this exact doorstep so that I might finally get this thing right。 To the beset and sometimes bewildered beloved who has hurt and learned to fear hurt， the beloved with her fear of the corporeal form reduced to meaningless gore， I would have myself turn over a picture of the whole cosmos as a living， sensitized dermis， an erotic playground， and a breathing whale-thing。 For Clarice， no principle has a living worth until it becomes Nietzsche’s dancing star。 Sometimes we advise people to make gratitude lists。 The young woman I am learning to love recently suggested to her perpetually harried mother that the progenitor give the exercise in question a shot。 Lispector’s Lóri， pursuant of the titular apprenticeship in All， has what I think might be an even better idea: a list of things to do （one of which is “be forgiven for the vanity of living”）。 For the young provocateur Georges Bataille it may be as simple as “The earth sometimes jerks off in a frenzy， and everything collapses on its surface。” All well and good， but if you want an exhaustive taxonomy of constantly reconfiguring chaotic-formal eruption， you need Clarice Lispector…and maybe also a moon bath。。。。 。。。more
Angélica Carreira
，
Não sei nem por onde começar。 O livro é tão intenso， prazeroso e ao mesmo tempo doloroso。 Traz a superfície sentimentos e reflexões sobre a vida， sobre o ser。 Uma protagonista em busca de si coloca em cheque padrões e questiona seu viver e aprende que não adianta querer cortar a dor。 É preciso vivê-la， sem medo。 Se entregar ao próprio ser para um dia， quando lhe perguntarem seu nome， você possa responder "EU"。 Escrevo essa Review com a esperança de me encontrar assim como Lori se encontrou。 Eu a Não sei nem por onde começar。 O livro é tão intenso， prazeroso e ao mesmo tempo doloroso。 Traz a superfície sentimentos e reflexões sobre a vida， sobre o ser。 Uma protagonista em busca de si coloca em cheque padrões e questiona seu viver e aprende que não adianta querer cortar a dor。 É preciso vivê-la， sem medo。 Se entregar ao próprio ser para um dia， quando lhe perguntarem seu nome， você possa responder "EU"。 Escrevo essa Review com a esperança de me encontrar assim como Lori se encontrou。 Eu ainda não posso 'ser'， mas espero um dia me reconhecer e abrir as portas da vida， um recomeço dos sofrimentos passados。 。。。more
Noah
，
This was my first exposure to Clarice Lispector and I'm about to grab a wheelbarrow， head to the bookstore， and throw in everything she's ever written。 Absolutely gorgeous writing and there was something that resonated deep within me on every page。 "In some way， she'd already learned that each day was never common， was always extraordinary。 And that it was up to her to suffer through or take pleasure in the day。 She wanted the pleasure of the extraordinary which was so simple to find in common t This was my first exposure to Clarice Lispector and I'm about to grab a wheelbarrow， head to the bookstore， and throw in everything she's ever written。 Absolutely gorgeous writing and there was something that resonated deep within me on every page。 "In some way， she'd already learned that each day was never common， was always extraordinary。 And that it was up to her to suffer through or take pleasure in the day。 She wanted the pleasure of the extraordinary which was so simple to find in common things: the thing didn't need to be extraordinary in order for her to feel the extraordinary in it" 。。。more
Antonio Delgado
，
living is an impasse， living is difficult， more difficult than dying， but living is dying and dying in the waiting for loving someone， another impasse that forces the self to surrender even one’s solitude， which can also be passed to that other person， but living is also living one with oneself and talking to oneself as one talks to the God…This novel explores the same the similar topics and preoccupations Lispector addresses since her first novel， 'Near to the Wild Hard'， through 'The Passion A living is an impasse， living is difficult， more difficult than dying， but living is dying and dying in the waiting for loving someone， another impasse that forces the self to surrender even one’s solitude， which can also be passed to that other person， but living is also living one with oneself and talking to oneself as one talks to the God…This novel explores the same the similar topics and preoccupations Lispector addresses since her first novel， 'Near to the Wild Hard'， through 'The Passion According to GH，' until her last one， 'The Hour of the Star。' Like most of her novels， ‘An Apprenticeship or the Book of Pleasures’ is better read in one it in order to capture the train of thought and the intuition that appears in every page。 。。。more
Fernanda Rocha
，
Um livro encantador sobre a trajetória de uma mulher em busca de si mesma， para além da dor。
Joey Shapiro
，
Like every Clarice Lispector book， it feels like wading through the densest most beautiful prose on the planet and just submitting to the fact that her writing is so meticulous and loaded with meaning that you'll never fully understand it all on a first read。 Clarice never missteps and I loved it！！ Imagine if people read this， a book about learning to live and be deserving of love and exist in the world， instead of lame self-help books！！ The world would be that utopia meme。 Like every Clarice Lispector book， it feels like wading through the densest most beautiful prose on the planet and just submitting to the fact that her writing is so meticulous and loaded with meaning that you'll never fully understand it all on a first read。 Clarice never missteps and I loved it！！ Imagine if people read this， a book about learning to live and be deserving of love and exist in the world， instead of lame self-help books！！ The world would be that utopia meme。 。。。more
Cristina
，
Según la propia Clarice， el libro "requirió una libertad muy grande que tuve miedo de darla" y para una， del otro lado， de recibirla。 De cualquier modo， todo lo resume en poseer sin ocupar porque "se aprendiaba amar más， a esperar más。 Se pasaba a tener una especie de confianza en el sufrimiento y en sus caminos tantas veces intolerables" Según la propia Clarice， el libro "requirió una libertad muy grande que tuve miedo de darla" y para una， del otro lado， de recibirla。 De cualquier modo， todo lo resume en poseer sin ocupar porque "se aprendiaba amar más， a esperar más。 Se pasaba a tener una especie de confianza en el sufrimiento y en sus caminos tantas veces intolerables" 。。。more
Julia Duarte
，
“Quando desligou o telefone， a noite estava úmida e a escuridão suave， e viver era ter um véu cobrindo os cabelos。 Então com ternura aceitou estar no mistério de ser viva”。 Clarisse， para nao perder o costume， escreveu uma prosa poética de tirar o fôlego。 Este livro é impecável。 Impressionante o que ele faz o leitor sentir。 Da vontade de abraça-lo e junto a ele， contemplar a pequinês do ser humano。 Leiam。
Gesika
，
Que livro lindo e sensível！！！！
Matt Miles
，
This might be the most accessible of Lispector’s works because it’s technically a love story， but it’s also a deep dive into a person’s attempt to humanize herself。 Maybe two。 Definitely another hypnotically written masterpiece from Lispector。
Airam
，
Um livro que gritou para nascer。
Filipa Galrão
，
Como resolver uma crise existencial？ Com o amor。Ulisses é professor de filosofia mas é Lóri quem mais filosofa e se angustia com a vida e consigo própria。 Um livro pequeno mas onde se asssiste de perto à Aprendizagem de ser mulher e de se conhecer a si própria。 E aprender quem é leva-a， por fim， a conseguir compreender e amar o outro。Livro difícil mas muito bonito。
Sara Mona
，
Entiendo que este libro es chulisimo pero no lo he leído en un momento de la vida en el que me hiciera especial mella。 Me impacientaba cómo la mente de la protagonista divaga entre sensaciones y sentimientos。 No obstante he tenido que terminarlo porque la trama central me ha creado curiosidad
Ana Claudia
，
Lóri sou eu。 Eu sou Lóri。 Portanto， agora quando me perguntarem "qual livro mais te marcou na vida？"， terei uma resposta。Lori is me。 I am Lori。 Then， now when I'm asked "what is your favourite book？"， I'll finally have an answer。 Lóri sou eu。 Eu sou Lóri。 Portanto， agora quando me perguntarem "qual livro mais te marcou na vida？"， terei uma resposta。Lori is me。 I am Lori。 Then， now when I'm asked "what is your favourite book？"， I'll finally have an answer。 。。。more
Carol Oliveira
，
Acho que esse livro se tornou um dos meus favoritos， talvez por ter sido tão pessoal。 Os atravessamentos de Lori me atravessam e arrebatam de formas tão semelhantes que， por vezes， me senti extremamente exposta， como se Clarice tivesse falando sobre mim。 Um viagem que começa por todos os lados e termina em mim， eu。 O eu como limitador， danoso， mas também a cura e salvação。 Ainda me incomoda um pouco a figura do Ulisses。 Eu entendo Lori o ver como o guia， mas o que o faz pensar que é o farol？ Por Acho que esse livro se tornou um dos meus favoritos， talvez por ter sido tão pessoal。 Os atravessamentos de Lori me atravessam e arrebatam de formas tão semelhantes que， por vezes， me senti extremamente exposta， como se Clarice tivesse falando sobre mim。 Um viagem que começa por todos os lados e termina em mim， eu。 O eu como limitador， danoso， mas também a cura e salvação。 Ainda me incomoda um pouco a figura do Ulisses。 Eu entendo Lori o ver como o guia， mas o que o faz pensar que é o farol？ Por que ele decide o fluxo da relação e quando ela estará pronta？ Alguém está pronto？ De qualquer maneira， o que fica é que os meios talvez sejam os fins; que aprender sobre amor é aprender sobre si。 É sobre perder o medo da profundidade e passar a ser o que se é。 。。。more
Lucas
，
Livro que me abriu os olhos， graças a ele， passei momentos muito felizes com uma pessoa muito especial
Malena Lorenzo
，
Habria que leer a Clarice Lispector para comprender mejor el mundo。 Una experiencia en si misma
Maria Brito
，
Clarice é uma confusão de palavras， sentimentos， vontades， exageros， privações e no meio de toda a loucura de tentar ser quem se é， Clarice nos coloca mais próximos do que somos， nos questionando “Se eu fosse eu” o que seria， o que faria。 O processo de desabrochar que acompanhamos em Lori durante o livro também ocorre em nós， já que compartilhamos suas dúvidas e certezas， e ao chegar ao final não sabemos o futuro de Lori， assim como não sabemos o que irá acontecer conosco， mas sabemos que vivemo Clarice é uma confusão de palavras， sentimentos， vontades， exageros， privações e no meio de toda a loucura de tentar ser quem se é， Clarice nos coloca mais próximos do que somos， nos questionando “Se eu fosse eu” o que seria， o que faria。 O processo de desabrochar que acompanhamos em Lori durante o livro também ocorre em nós， já que compartilhamos suas dúvidas e certezas， e ao chegar ao final não sabemos o futuro de Lori， assim como não sabemos o que irá acontecer conosco， mas sabemos que vivemos juntos com a personagem um processo de aprendizagem。 。。。more
Luís
，
The heart has to present itself to the Nothing alone and alone to beat in silence from a tachycardia in the darkness。The protagonist's experience shows affinities with the beautiful Psyche's trials， from the Greek myth， and with the mystical adventure of the soul， when going through the night in the "Spiritual Song" of São João da Cruz。Like a painting whose main lines cut it out from the great mystery that contains everything， this book that asked for greater freedom is the narrative of initiati The heart has to present itself to the Nothing alone and alone to beat in silence from a tachycardia in the darkness。The protagonist's experience shows affinities with the beautiful Psyche's trials， from the Greek myth， and with the mystical adventure of the soul， when going through the night in the "Spiritual Song" of São João da Cruz。Like a painting whose main lines cut it out from the great mystery that contains everything， this book that asked for greater freedom is the narrative of initiation and an extraordinary hymn to love。 Lóri， the woman， takes a long journey to the depths of herself and comes to the full awareness of being。 She says: I am; the man， Ulysses， a philosophy professor who has formulas to explain the world， becomes something more straightforward， a simple man。 Both will initiate: Ulysses closes his ears to the other mermaids because he is only available to Lóri， whose real name is Loreley， as the character of Heine and Apollinaire， an undine or mermaid who used to attract boatmen from the Rhine to the rocks。 Each one will find himself in the face of the other。Because it is work， asceticism， travel， the love of Lóri and Ulisses overcomes the difference， the strangeness， overcomes even death， or the fear of death。 And the finally physical delivery of the characters takes place with a tantric force of ecstasy， epiphany。 For Lóri， the atmosphere was miraculous; Ulysses was suffering from life and love。Nothing ends; however， the moment announces new dawn: Both were pale， and both were beautiful。 Clarice， who inserts herself wisely in the possible， closes the narrative that had started with a comma with two points。 。。。more
Ana
，
O melhor dela。 As vezes Clarice parece tão íntima desse mundo que me faz sentir estrangeira nessa vida。 Ela que inventou a madrugada e o cheiro do peixe fresco， nós apenas convivemos com tudo。 É como ler as impressões de alguém que habita a terra há séculos。
Marina Vitorino
，
Lispector’s books helps me understand about what it is to be alive and question myself on what happiness really is， about founding pleasure in tiny little things。
Jamille
，