The Hour of the Star
Narrated by the cosmopolitan Rodrigo S.M., this brief, strange, and haunting tale is the story of Macabéa, one of life's unfortunates. Living in the slums of Rio and eking out a poor living as a typist, Macabéa loves movies, Coca-Colas, and her rat of a boyfriend; she would like to be like Marilyn Monroe, but she is ugly, underfed, sickly and unloved. Rodrigo recoils from her wretchedness, and yet he cannot avoid the realization that for all her outward misery, Macabéa is inwardly free/She doesn't seem to know how unhappy she should be. Lispector employs her pathetic heroine against her urbane, empty narrator--edge of despair to edge of despair--and, working them like a pair of scissors, she cuts away the reader's preconceived notions about poverty, identity, love and the art of fiction. In her last book she takes readers close to the true mystery of life and leave us deep in Lispector territory indeed.
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Community Reviews
The Hour of the Star isn’t a book you read for plot—it’s a quiet philosophical storm, a meditation in contrasts. It holds up MC Macabéa like a mirror to our self-important, ever-dissatisfied lives, asking how someone with so little—no beauty, no intellect, no love, no future—can still manage to exist with a strange, naïve kind of joy. And it makes you uncomfortable, because you almost want to scoff at her happiness. But then you catch yourself. The book doesn’t let you sit easy in your superiority. It makes you question what we value, how we measure worth, and why we believe suffering must come with insight.
Macabéa’s foolishness isn’t foolish at all—it’s unsettling, tender, and defiant in its own way. In her ignorance, there’s a purity we’ve lost. And through her, Clarice Lispector doesn’t just tell a story—she pokes at the soul, asking what it really means to be.
I’m not an expert in metafiction, but I can confidently say that Lispector has crafted an impressive work. Her choice of Roberto as a character, his prejudices, serves the author’s intentions brilliantly. The book is undeniably morbid, yet the portrayal of Macabéa’s naivety, combined with a tasteful use of humor often made me chuckle. I know I’ve likely missed many of the thematic depths within this book ( particularly regarding the Spanish and Portuguese colonial "competition" and the effects of globalization "Americanization" ) but I still found it quite engaging.
Clarice Lispector can do no wrong in my eyes.
Prior to reading this novella, I've only ever read her short stories, which were outstanding. I had no idea what to expect going into this one and I was absolutely shocked at all the humor! The tragedy that was Maca's life was what I was used to when reading Clarice, but not the humor. Well, unless you count "The Chicken" because that one was hilarious.
I will need to read this one a few more times before I can really set down my thoughts on this one, but I think Clarice used this story to talk about herself and feelings about her writing. That's about as far as I can get with it for now.
Prior to reading this novella, I've only ever read her short stories, which were outstanding. I had no idea what to expect going into this one and I was absolutely shocked at all the humor! The tragedy that was Maca's life was what I was used to when reading Clarice, but not the humor. Well, unless you count "The Chicken" because that one was hilarious.
I will need to read this one a few more times before I can really set down my thoughts on this one, but I think Clarice used this story to talk about herself and feelings about her writing. That's about as far as I can get with it for now.
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