"I write because I have nothing else to do in the world: I was left over and there is no place for me in the world of men. I write because I'm desperate and I'm tired, I can no longer bear the routine of being me and if not for the always novelty that is writing, I would die symbolically every day. But I am prepared to slip out discreetly through the back exit. I've experienced almost everything, including passion and its despair. And now I'd only like to have what I would have been and never was."
The Hour of The Star is the first book I finished this year and I think I have found my favorite book of the year on the first week of the first month. I highlighted passages almost on every page on the first half of the book. I am in awe with how Lispector wrote the interiority of her characters, how she could translate her feelings and thoughts into words. And how I could find myself in the many words she strung into sentences gave a bewildering feeling. The passage above reminds me of what I wrote about writing some time ago. If only I possessed a small tiny amount of capacity to write so beautifully.
I fell even deeper into admiration when I read the afterword. I have known that her writing is something special before I read any of her books but I had never read about her political activities, although of course this book displays her deep empathy for the marginalized people. Reading her son's words about her gave me the same exact feeling as when I was reading Simone de Beauvoir's The Woman Destroyed. It's this feeling of yearning to belong to a family that stands on the right side. It strangely gave me two kinds of longing.
