On Brazilian Literature: The Beginning
by Julia Vaz
The political unleash of chains in Brazil was arduous. It started with the title of an independent country, progressed to a republic, was suppressed by a dictatorship, and culminated in the society I know today; flawed, artistic, yet hopeful. Filled with different cultures brought together by centuries of history. Living in a country created by so many different voices makes it hard to find your own. Luckily, I found books.
As a hard-headed young girl desperate to make an impact, I read books about revolutions—female leads engaging with causes that encapsulated demands of a whole people. I was always struck by the power a society carries, and by the human disposition to resist oppression. Still, it was only inside a classroom, and later by adventuring myself on the required reads, that I understood how my country’s true identity parallels my own, how I found freedom through the in-betweens of verses and paragraphs.
Rooted in activism, Brazilian literature expresses a culture created by fragmented realities. Its authors criticized the hypocrisy of the persistent colonial values, challenged slavery, represented the language of the marginalized, and highlighted oppression at every literary movement. More than just beautiful words on a page, our literature constructed a colorful mural of a plural identity, adding more pieces throughout time as we continually redefined what being Brazilian meant.
From humorous remarks to touching descriptions of the struggles and wonders of daily life, Brazilian literature is a lesson on how the voice of a nation can be heard through ink on paper. Just like many other countries that were made colonies, Brazil’s autonomy was a long-discussed topic. Even after freedom, it was hard to pinpoint what was legitimately our creations and not simply reproductions of European models with subtle hints of Brazilian personality.
Throughout time, many challenged such constraints. Álvares de Azevedo, for instance, in the poem “It’s her! It’s her!” ironically wrote about falling in love with a washerwoman as she snorts in her sleep during the peak of the idealized Romantic movement. Gregório de Matos was, ironically, nicknamed “Hell’s Mouth” in the 17th century due to his satirical remarks about the corruption and the colony’s elite in the midst of the Baroque, a school that focused on the individual and the ambiguity between man and religion. Machado de Assis ignored many of the characteristics of Realism to create, in an extensive production, the most profound representation of the Brazilian values and social problems of his time, intelligently addressing themes that are still extremely valid like the power of writing: “Each word tugs another one along, one idea another, and that is how books, governments and revolutions are made – some even say that is how Nature created her species."
Moreover, when the concept of everything needed to be redefined, Clarice Lispector explored living through phrases that overflow with lyricism and transcendence: “I am before, I am almost, I am never.”
As exemplified above, no matter the context, there was always a Brazilian point of view slipping through there was always this necessity to show the ignored, to fight for something bigger than what it was expected. Still, such ideas were only truly encapsulated by the Modernism movement in the 20th century that claimed a revolution capable of fomenting an independent literary scene.
Published in 1928, the Anthropophagic Manifesto, written by the poet Oswald de Andrade, described Brazil as a flux of different cultures that deserved its own space in the literary world; “I am only interested in what’s not mine (...). We want the Cariba Revolution. Bigger than the French Revolution. For the unification of all the efficient revolutions for the sake of human beings (...). Our independence was never proclaimed (...).”
Such affirmations would not only change the way Brazilian authors looked at writing—now seeing it as part of a bigger project to contribute to the artistic freedom of their country—but it would also become a clear example of the importance of literature to nations and cultures. The possibility of freely and openly discussing the social scenario in Brazil created a rich artistic space that would serve as a path to resistance in favor of democracy and equality in the years to come.
If writing allows us to understand the world through the context of others, Brazilian authors decided to use this facet to transport us to the overlooked realities, to the change we should all be fighting for, and to the beauty within our country that is filled by a multitude of different narratives.
Inspired by such a powerful manifesto, by the necessity to share the universal lessons contained in the Brazilian literature, and my own journey navigating it, this column was created to serve as a vibrant space to discuss some of the most important works, in my humble opinion, that Brazil has to offer. Hopefully, by the end of this series, you will feel compelled to dive deeper into our shiny mural, selecting pieces that can be part of your own identity, just like I did.
— Julia Vaz is a Staff Writer from Brazil.