Daydreams and Drunkenness of a Young Lady by Clarice Lispector ***** (#15)
I was so looking forward to the inclusion of Clarice Lispector in the Penguin Moderns series, and am happy to report that Daydreams and Drunkenness of a Young Lady, the fifteenth book, is my favourite so far. I have not read much of Lispector’s work to date, but find her writing glorious, and the perspectives which she uses fascinating. The three stories collected here – ‘Daydream and Drunkenness of a Young Lady, ‘Love’, and ‘Family Ties’, all of which were published in 1960, and have been translated by Katrina Dodson – promise the blurb, are ‘three intoxicating tales of three women – their secret desires, fears and madness – from a giant of Brazilian literature.’
There is a peculiar beauty to each of these tales; they have an almost otherworldly quality to them, even when Lispector is writing about rather mundane things. The titular story in this volume begins: ‘Throughout the room it seemed to her the trams were crossing, making her reflection tremble. She sat combing her hair languorously, before the three-way vanity, her white, strong arms bristling in the slight afternoon chill. Her eyes didn’t leave themselves, the mirrors vibrated, now dark, now luminous… Her eyes never pried themselves from her image, her comb working meditatively, her open robe revealing in the mirrors the intersecting breasts of several young ladies.’
Daydreams and Drunkenness of a Young Lady is both emotive and absorbing, and is filled with intelligent nuances. Lispector’s voice is searching and perceptive. I was utterly swept away with the three stories here, and absolutely loved each one of them.
An Advertisement for Toothpaste by Ryszard Kapuscinski ***
Before picking up An Advertisement for Toothpaste, I had not read anything by Ryszard Kapuscinski. The sixteenth Penguin Modern was translated from its original Polish by William R. Brand, and consists of several essays, all of which were written in 1963 and published in 2017. In these essays, states the blurb, ‘the great traveller-reporter finds an even stronger and more exotic society in his own home of post-war Poland than in any of the distant lands he has visited.’
An Advertisement for Toothpaste consists of the title essay, as well as ‘Danka’, ‘The Taking of Elzbieta’, and ‘The Stiff’. I was not sure what to expect in this volume, but found myself really enjoying Kapuscinski’s descriptions; in ‘Danka’, for instance, he describes the way in which he ‘went back into the town. I won’t give its name, and the reportage will explain why. It lies in the northern part of Bialystok province, and there is no one who has not seen, at least once in their life, one of a hundred little towns like this. There is nothing distinctive about any of them. They put on a drowsy face, damp patches growing with lichens in the furrows of their crumbling walls, and anyone who walks across the town square has the impression that everything is staring at him insistently from under half-closed, motionless eyelids.’ Kapuscinski certainly uncovers some interesting things, and meets a whole cast of interesting people along the way. Whilst I found these essays interesting enough to read, it has not sparked in me a desire to read any more of the author’s work.