The Hour of the Star

Clarice Lispector is a newly found favorite of mine. The hour of the star is a novella that plays with form, like much of Lispector's works. Her ability to stretch, poke, and prod at the fourth wall in a way that does not feel contrite is one of the most enjoyable parts of her writing.

The narrator is simultaneously divorced from the reality of the protagonist's world and intimately privy to its details. He is a character in and of himself, anxious and unsure of himself. He pities, and is often disgusted by, the pitiful protagonist Macabea. The two are foils- she has every reason to be unhappy and yet she is ultimately not. He has many reasons to be content, and yet he is deeply disturbed by life and his role in it.