Background Moral distress is a well-recognized term for emotional, cognitive, and physical reactions of professionals, when facing conflicts between perceived obligations and institutional constraints. Though studied across medical roles, limited research exists among physiotherapists. Research Question What factors contribute to Moral distress among physiotherapists and how do they cope? Objectives To develop and test a multifaceted model of Moral distress and gain an in-depth understanding of the phenomena. Research Design A 2017–2022 mixed-methods study: (1) Survey of 407 physiotherapists quantitatively testing (...) a literature-based model analyzing relationships between Moral distress, Moral sensitivity, Locus of control, Self-efficacy, Ethical climate perceptions and demographics, analyzed by descriptive and inferential statistics, multiple comparisons and structural equation modelling (SPSS26, SAS, AMOS); (2) Semi-structured interviews with 21 physiotherapists examining Moral distress experiences using meticulous phenomenological analysis. Participants and Context Israeli physiotherapists from various occupational settings recruited via professional networks. Ethical Considerations The Haifa University Ethics Committee authorized the study. Informed consent was obtained for the anonymous survey and before interviews regarding recording, and quote use. Findings Quantitative results showed moderately high average Moral distress, significantly higher among women and paediatric physiotherapists, positively correlating with Moral sensitivity. Qualitative findings revealed intense emotions around Moral distress experiences, inner conflicts between care ideals and constraints, and coping strategies like reflective skills. Senior therapists, despite higher self-efficacy and moral sensitivity, still reported persistent high distress. Discussion Moral distress has complex links with moral sensitivity, self-efficacy, perceived professional autonomy and organizational support. A renewed framework emerged explaining relations between moral distress and personal, professional and organizational factors. Conclusions Multidimensional insights help identify Moral distress causes and coping strategies among physiotherapists, advancing theory. Conclusions can shape ethics training programs and competencies. (shrink)

Two studies demonstrate that a dispositional proneness to disgust (“disgust sensitivity”) is associated with intuitive disapproval of gay people. Study 1 was based on previous research showing that people are more likely to describe a behavior as intentional when they see it as morally wrong (see Knobe, 2006, for a review). As predicted, the more disgust sensitive participants were, the more likely they were to describe an agent whose behavior had the side effect of causing gay men to kiss in (...) public as having intentionally encouraged gay men to kiss publicly— even though most participants did not explicitly think it wrong to encourage gay men to kiss in public. No such effect occurred when subjects were asked about heterosexual kissing. Study 2 used the Implicit Association Test (IAT; Nosek, Banaji, & Greenwald, 2006) as a dependent measure. The more disgust sensitive participants were, the more they showed.. (shrink)

A strange fusion of history and autobiography, this study ranges across the themes of sound and silence, solitude and desert, community and home, combining the past and the present, the historical and the personal, in a unique way. Driven by the conviction that “our sounding world deeply shapes our sense of place and of who we are,” Haines-Eitzen, a scholar of early Christianity, seeks to understand how early monasticism was shaped by the soundscape of the Middle Eastern deserts, but also (...) what it means to orient ourselves to a place through listening. Drawing on her field recordings of desert sounds (recorded in the deserts of Israel and North America and made available in the book through barcodes that can be scanned), Haines-Eitzen argues that hearing the nuances of desert sounds requires a “deep listening” founded on inner quietness, and she evokes this state through tales of the Desert Fathers, who spent decades in the deserts of the Middle East trying to cultivate this inner disposition. Their spiritual quest, according to Haines-Eitzen, was shaped by the “acoustic ecology” of the desert—the ever-present sounds of wind, thunder, water, animals, and even humans; their stories, preserved in early monastic sources, “reveal how monks became part of the natural history of the desert, [and] how they were shaped by their experience of desert sounds.”As an academic study of early monasticism (though I am not sure if the book was intended as such), Sonorous Desert is lacking in critical ways, and the monastic sources do not receive the attention and rigorous treatment they deserve. The monastic test cases examined serve as stepping stones in the author's own quest for inner quietness. But the reader who overcomes initial bewilderment over the book's methodology and style does gain something important: a new sensitivity to “the acoustics of solitude”—to the “striking acoustical paradox of the noisy and silent desert.” The Near and Middle Eastern deserts, far from being empty and silent, were (and still are) richly resonant and sonorous. Not only their landscapes but also their soundscapes helped to shape the religious quest of Christian monks, in late antiquity and beyond. By making us aware of and sensitive to the sonority of early monastic texts, Sonorous Desert contributes to a richer and more holistic view of early monastic spirituality. (shrink)

Lucette's suicide left me indifferent. This time I knew it was coming, but years ago, when I first read Ada, or Ardor, I also felt relatively indifferent (apart from the element of surprise) to learn about her sudden death. I was aware of my indifference at the time and was surprised at my (non)reaction. It surprised me yet again in my recent rereading of the novel. Manipulating and withholding the reader's engagement with the text and empathy toward a character may (...) have been part of the author's intention, of course. But for me, this lack of emotional engagement with Lucette's fate is emblematic of what I find problematic in Nabokov's admittedly brilliant novel: though intellectually challenging and aesthetically pleasing, Ada (unlike Lolita, for example) is not emotionally engaging. Of course, not all readers find such engagement an important feature of the reading experience, but I do. For this reader, its absence makes Ada (both with and without the italics) a gorgeous but empty shell.Ada's reader, activated by an urge to dig out buried clues, finds that deciphering a clue—aside from the joy to which it may give rise—contributes little to the characters’ reality, to the breadth and depth of their fictional humanity. Instead, Van and Ada remain, throughout the novel, more superhuman than human, endowed with almost supernatural excellences and perfections (their intellect, their looks, their way of life, their unique capacities and skills). Nabokov's heroes indeed bring to mind Nietzsche's Übermensch and the philosopher's critique of traditional ethics. It seems to me that his view of what constitutes human greatness is echoed in the charismatic figures of Van and Ada, whose outlook—an outlook privileging virtues such as aestheticism, intelligence, individuality, and human “greatness”—appears to embody a Nietzschean revaluation of values, privileging an aesthetic outlook on morality. As an amateur of Nabokov, therefore, I was surprised to see that very little has been written about this Nietzschean presence in Ada. An aesthetic revaluation of values is, however, what Ada delivers. As Michael Wood observes, “Nabokov would have hated the association [of his own name with Nietzsche's], but... the connection is not arbitrary.”While this association—whether it was intentional or not—surely contributes to the novel's intellectual breadth and complexity, it adds nothing to the psychology of its main characters. Instead, Van and Ada's übermenschliche qualities—their human “greatness”—seem to be inborn, part of their aristocratic nature, rather than acquired through transformative struggle. I suspect that it is this lack of transformation in the characters that undermines the reader's engagement with their fate. This lack makes Nabokov's family chronicle much less memorable than Tolstoy's.In the first sentence of Ada (“All happy families are more or less dissimilar; all unhappy ones are more or less alike”), Nabokov parodies by reversing the famous first sentence of Anna Karenina and thereby, as Robert Alter argues, reverses “the major thematic movement of the novel as a genre”: whereas Tolstoy's novel concerns lost illusions, Ada “is an attempt to return to paradise.” Nabokov's swing away from Tolstoy is startling and impressive but fails to convince me that the paradise inhabited by the happy Veens is superior to the lost illusions of the Karenins. Even in death, Anna is more alive than Ada. (shrink)

Ex-Machina and Morgan, two recent science-fiction films that deal with the creation of humanoids, also explored the relationship between artificial intelligence, spatiality and the lingering question mark regarding artificial consciousness. In both narratives, the creators of the humanoids have tried to mimic human consciousness as closely as possible, which has resulted in the imprisonment of the humanoids due to proprietary concerns in Ex-Machina and due to the violent behavior of the humanoid in Morgan. This article addresses the dilemma of whether (...) or not the humanoids in both films possess high levels of artificial consciousness and its possible consequences regarding focalization, a narrative term that presupposes subjectivity, as well as offer two new categories of posthuman focalization—X-focalization and A-focalization. The issue of captivity also has far-reaching ethical implications when considering the underlying assumption of artificial consciousness—if humanoids are indeed endowed with a subjective inner life, then they are entitled to be treated as moral agents, equivalent to humans rather than animals. (shrink)

The uniquely human emotion of disgust is intimately connected to morality in many, perhaps all, cultures. We report two studies suggesting that a predisposition to feel disgust is associated with more conservative political attitudes, especially for issues related to the moral dimension of purity. In the first study, we document a positive correlation between disgust sensitivity and self-reported conservatism in a broad sample of US adults. In Study 2 we show that while disgust sensitivity is associated with more conservative attitudes (...) on a range of political issues, this relationship is strongest for purity-related issues—specifically, abortion and gay marriage. (shrink)

The realm of bioethics has long been underpinned by the foundational concept of "personhood," which delineates entities meriting moral and legal consideration on the basis of attributes such as con...

Despite the wealth of recent work implicating disgust as an emotion central to human morality, the nature of the causal relationship between disgust and moral judgment remains unclear. We distinguish between three related claims regarding this relationship, and argue that the most interesting claim (that disgust is a moralizing emotion) is the one with the least empirical support.

A popular view in philosophy of science contends that scientific reasoning is objective to the extent that the appraisal of scientific hypotheses is not influenced by moral, political, economic, or social values, but only by the available evidence. A large body of results in the psychology of motivated-reasoning has put pressure on the empirical adequacy of this view. The present study extends this body of results by providing direct evidence that the moral offensiveness of a scientific hypothesis biases explanatory judgment (...) along several dimensions, even when prior credence in the hypothesis is controlled for. Furthermore, it is shown that this bias is insensitive to an economic incentive to be accurate in the evaluation of the evidence. These results contribute to call into question the attainability of the ideal of a value-free science. (shrink)

We address two questions regarding the relationship between political ideology and responses to threatening or aversive stimuli. The first concerns the reason for the connection between disgust and specific political and moral attitudes; the second concerns the observation that some responses to threat (i.e., neuroticism/anxiety) are associated with a moreleft-wingpolitical orientation.

The paper outlines a conceptual framework for the critical assessment of argumentation which differs in some of its core characteristics from conventional approaches: it is resolutely semantic rather than formal in its method; it centers on obligations rather than beliefs; and its analytical focus is on the contingent necessity of conclusions, rather than on their persuasiveness or formal validity. The paper briefly illustrates the applications of this conceptual framework by reanalyzing a couple of examples taken from the argumentation analysis literature.

Balancing Change and Tradition in Global Education Reform is an invaluable resource for policymakers, faculty, students, and anyone interested in how decisions made about the education system ultimately affect the quality of education, educational access, and social justice.

The main point of our hypothesis “coloration undermines camouflage” is that many color patterns in plants undermine the camouflage of invertebrate herbivores, especially insects, thus exposing them to predation and causing them to avoid plant organs with unsuitable coloration, to the benefit of the plants. This is a common case of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” and a visual parallel of the chemical signals that plants emit to call wasps when attacked by caterpillars. Moreover, this is also (...) a common natural version of the well‐known case of industrial melanism, which illustrates the great importance of plant‐based camouflage for herbivorous insects and can serve as an independent test for our hypothesis. We claim that the enormous variations in coloration of leaves, petioles and stems as well as of flowers and fruits undermine the camouflage of invertebrate herbivores, especially insects. We assume that the same principle might operate in certain animal–parasite interactions. Our hypothesis, however, does not contrast or exclude other previous or future explanations of specific types of plant coloration. Traits such as coloration that have more than one type of benefit may be selected for by several agents and evolve more rapidly than ones with a single type of advantage. BioEssays 26:1126–1130, 2004. © 2004 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. (shrink)

The present study examined adjustment to higher education among students with disabilities immediately following their first year of study and onwards, with three primary objectives. First, we examined whether students with no disabilities adjust better to higher education than students with disabilities (mental health, physical, sensory, ADHD/LD). Second, we examined differences among the specific disability groups in adjustment to higher education overall and in specific subscales. Finally, we examined the unique pattern of adjustment in each disability group, and sought to (...) determine whether the groups differed with respect to this pattern. Of the 469 students who participated in the study, 234 had disabilities (mental health, sensory, ADHD/LD, physical) and 235 were matched controls. The results indicated that students with disabilities as a whole reported lower adjustment than did controls. A close examination of the differences between the disability groups on the four subscales demonstrated unique adjustment challenges for each of the groups. The findings demonstrate the importance of specifically examining each disability group, to learn about needs and support. (shrink)

The dynamic of changes in the rules in team games materialize from research and debate between experts and coaches before being implemented by the International Federations. In Handball, the last changes occurred in 2016, and one of them was to substitute the goalkeeper with an additional field player allowing teams to play “empty goal” while using the additional field player.This study aimed to analyze and characterize the use of the 7 vs. 6 strategical-tactical option for the attack in the 2020 (...) Men’s European Championship. We also analyzed whether the game time and partial score influenced the use of 7 vs. 6 and its efficiency. Observational methodology and a mixed ad hoc instrument combining field format and category systems validated by experts were used. Data were taken from 28 matches involving teams in the first 12 positions in the 2020 Men’s European Championship. The total number of offensive sequences in an organized attack method in 7 vs. 6 with an empty goal were analyzed. Sequential analysis techniques with lags, prospective and retrospective, and polar coordinate analysis were used. The results showed that these solutions had poor efficiency, except for the Portuguese National Team; teams using the 7 vs. 6 tactic option had no negative consequences or increased risk with the opponent response; partial score influenced the decision to use 7 vs. 6 strategic option, and game time was associated with 7 vs. 6 play options and detected patterns. (shrink)

Reseñado por JAMIE WOOD University of Lincoln, UK [email protected].

A imagem da noite é uma constante em diversas tradições místicas, estando associada à necessidade, expressa pela mística apofática, de transcender às imagens, ao conhecimento e ao nome de Deus, bem como a um método ascético que conduziria a uma experiência que não sendo sensível ou inteligível, não é catalogável pelo nosso sistema de cognição. A noite será uma das imagens mais poderosas e de maior expressividade na poesia de São João da Cruz, representante da mística ibérica do séc. XVI. (...) Uma imagem negativa que nos fala de um processo de negação gradual e progressivo que avança até um ponto limite que onde reste a afirmação absoluta do Nome divino. O artigo pretende, pela análise dos poemas Cântico espiritual e Noite escura, ensaiar algumas conjecturas sobre o significado da metáfora noite escura em São João da Cruz e no discurso místico em geral. Palavras-chaves: São João da Cruz. Poesia mística. Cântico spiritual. Noite escura.: The image of the night is a constant in various mystical traditions, and it is generally related to the need, expressed by the mystical apophatic, of transcending the images, the knowledge, and the name of God. Such image is also comprehended as an ascetic method which would lead to an experience that is neither sensible nor intelligible, and because of that it is not understandable by our system of cognition. The night is one of the most powerful and expressive image in the poetry of São João da Cruz, a representative poet of the Iberian mystical poetry of the nineteenth century. The metaphor of the night is a negative image that speaks us of a process of gradual and progressive denial that moves toward a tipping point where the absolute affirmation of the Divine Name remains. The paper develops, through the analysis of the poems “Spiritual Chant” and “Dark Night”, some conjectures about the meaning of the dark night metaphor in São João da Cruz and in the mystical discourse as a whole Key-words : São João da Cruz. Mystical poetry. Spiritual Chant. Dark Night. (shrink)

Neste texto, procuro encontrar as origens de um dos mais importantes conceitos de Gilles Deleuze, o conceito de Imagem-tempo. Este conceito remete-nos para os primeiros textos de Deleuze dedicados à filosofia de Espinosa e ao problema do autómato espiritual e relaciona-se directamente com o problema da passividade/actividade do espectador. Ou seja, o conceito crucial na sua filosofia do cinema, a Imagem-tempo, esconde uma importante reflexão sobre a Imagem cinematográfica como arte de massas, os (im)poderes do pensamento e o modo fascista (...) de se pensar. This text seeks to find the origins of one of the most important of Gilles Deleuze's concepts, the concept of Time-image. This concept leads us to his first texts regarding Spinoza's philosophy and the problem of the spiritual automaton, and concerns directly with the problem of passivity/activity of the film goer. That is to say that the crucial concept of his film philosophy, Time-image, hides a fundamental consideration on the cinematic image as a mass art, the (un)powers of thinking and the fascist way of thought. (shrink)

Neste artigo o autor aplica a interpretaçãosocial-institucional da constituição ontológicana análise da teoria heideggeriana acerca darelatividade da verdade em relação ao ser doDasein. A presente reconstrução é desenvolvidapor meio da apresentação do assim chamadocarátér de verdade do ser, bem como da interpretaçãoontológico existencial da gênese da ontologiada presentidade a partir dadisponibilidade. No asserir localiza-se a prática recognitiva capaz de instituir acategoria da pura subsistência, na qual reside acondição existencial da possibilidade da verdade.Essa dependência existencial da verdade permiteo reconhecimento da condição (...) da total falta dedescobrimento ôntico: a ausência completa doDasein, que Heidegger chamou de 'noite absoluta'. (shrink)

Em 24 de agosto de 1572, Paris viveu um fato sangrento em sua história: “O Massacre da Noite de São Bartolomeu”, como ficou historicamente conhecido o evento, remete ao assassinato de milhares de huguenotes, a mando da casa real francesa, nas ruas da cidade. Mais um episódio dos conflitos religiosos que dividiram a França do século XVI, o banho de sangue protestante a mando da realeza católica seria, no século seguinte, louvado pelos teóricos seiscentistas da razão de Estado. Seguindo essa (...) linha, Gabriel Naudé, na obra Considérations politiques sur les coups-d'état, elogia o golpe que motivou o massacre, defendendo-o das acusações de tirania e o glorificando como ação legítima e necessária por parte dos governantes franceses. Examinar a apologia de Naudé ao referido massacre, e nela buscar a influência da obra de Nicolau Maquiavel exercida sobre o autor, é o escopo de nosso artigo. (shrink)

Trata-se neste artigo de mostrar como se dá a recepção de alguns elementos da filosofia schopenhaueriana, como a oposição entre intelecto e vontade, na literatura de Machado de Assis. Com efeito, examinado o conto “Noite de almirante”, pode-se dizer que a personagem Genoveva faz as vezes da vontade, ao passo que Deolindo é guiado pelo intelecto.

This paper deals with the reception of some elements of Schopenhauerian philosophy, such as the oposition between intellect and will, in the literature of Machado de Assis. Indeed, if we examine the short story "Noite de almirante", we can see that the character Genoveva represents the will, while Deolindo is guided by the intellect.Trata-se neste artigo de mostrar como se dá a recepção de alguns elementos da filosofia schopenhaueriana, como a oposição entre intelecto e vontade, na literatura de Machado de (...) Assis. Com efeito, examinado o conto "Noite de almirante", pode-se dizer que a personagem Genoveva faz as vezes da vontade, ao passo que Deolindo é guiado pelo intelecto. (shrink)

A proposta de análise dos contos The Night Came Slowly (1894) e A Reflection (1899) de Kate Chopin considera a perspectiva de Lefebve (1980) de que, embora com estruturas distintas, o discurso da poesia e o discurso da narrativa operam do mesmo modo e são capazes da mesma poesia. Intenciona-se mostrar como a prosa poética de Kate Chopin articula imagens líricas e uma linguagem simbólica para tratar de questões metafísicas e atemporais, assinalando o viés de crítica social da autora. Para (...) tanto, a análise será norteada pelos fundamentos teóricos propostos por Massaud Moisés, Octavio Paz, Jean Y. Tadié, entre outros, pelos aspectos simbólicos apontados por Gaston Bachelard e Mircea Eliade bem como por autores que embasam a crítica literária chopiniana.Palavras-chave: Prosa poética. Kate Chopin. The Night Came Slowly. A Reflection. (shrink)

Il s'agit d'une étude à partir de multiples sources : opinions d'hommes politiques et des premières féministes brésiliennes, archives de polices, rapports de médecins, œuvres littéraires, interview d'une personne proche du milieu (vieille couturière d'origine française). Pour s'orienter dans ces multiples sources, il faut un profond sens critique, qui ne manque pas à l'auteur. À la fin du XIXe siècle le statut de la femme brésilienne (de la maîtresse de maison aux salariées) à São Paul...

O ensaio trata do problema da invisibilidade da matéria e do vazio em Dererum natura Como é possível a Lucrécio sustentar, por um lado, que o ânimo ématerial e que o conhecimento é sensível, e, por outro, que os primórdios dascoisas, bem como o vazio e os simulacros dos corpos, são invisíveis e, no limite,inacessíveis aos sentidos? O problema é desenvolvido mediante um comentário aotexto de Lucrécio que retoma criticamente a interpretação de Deleuze em Lógica dosentido com foco na relação (...) entre o caráter oculto da natureza e a diferença develocidade entre, de um lado, sentidos e pe nsamento e, de outro, simulacros ecorpos. A partir disso, o ensaio tira conclusões a respeito da natureza do discurso deLucrécio sobre a natureza das coisas. (shrink)

Resumo: O avanço da internet propiciou uma situação em que a visibilidade que alguns indivíduos, grupos e entidades alcançam dentro de determinados círculos, e até mesmo em todo o globo, tem chegado a níveis de idolatria e reverência que só podem ser comparadas a um culto, uma religião ou seita. Essa construção de significados é processada através da chamada “autocomunicação de massa”, termo cunhado por Manuel Castells, na qual os próprios indivíduos estabelecem quem possui algum tipo de poder. E são (...) essas novas relações midiáticas que constroem novos ídolos para adoração, elevados da noite para o dia da condição de mortais a deuses. O que se pretende apresentar neste texto é como a Teoria do Mundo Ideal de Platão explica a criação de um novo paraíso, um local idílico e perfeito dentro da internet e como, neste “novo céu”, os usuários da rede estão entronizando esses novos deuses e, consequentemente, prestando sua adoração, alimentando e dando poder a esse panteão forjado a partir de likes. Em contraposição a essa situação, iremos entender como a proposta da inversão das ideias de Platão, idealizada por Nietzsche, pode nos ajudar a compreender este fenômeno social e, quem sabe, superar esta idolatria. Palavras chaves: Platão; Mundo Ideal; Ciberespaço; Redes Sociais; Nietzsche. (shrink)

The affect-as-information (AAI) model proposes that emotions influence the accessibility and value of information (Avramova & Inbar, Citation2013). Furthermore, according to the dual-process model of moral judgement, emotions and cognition influence moral judgement (Greene, Citation2007; Greene et al., Citation2001, Citation2008); however, there is no direct evidence of a causal chain to support this model’s proposition. By using a 3 (emotions: positive vs. neutral vs. negative) × 2 (primed rule: save lives vs. do not kill) between-participants design, we examined two (...) hypotheses in two experiments: supraliminal (Experiment 1) and subliminal (Experiment 2) priming. Our results partially supported the AAI model and confirmed that emotions and cognition independently influence moral judgement. Specifically, the positive emotions group made more utilitarian decisions after being primed with the “save lives” rule and more deontological decisions after being primed with the do not kill rule. However, priming did not affect moral judgement in the negative emotion condition. Further, irrespective of whether priming was done, the negative emotion group mostly made utilitarian decisions. Accordingly, we propose a dynamic dual-process model of moral judgement, that can help clarify how emotion and cognition influence moral judgement. (shrink)

Ainda que possa ser visto como clichê sob diversos aspectos, o filme “O Céu da Meia-Noite” (dirigido e protagonizado por George Clooney para a Netflix) traz temas reflexivos na perspectiva existencial. Lançado em dezembro de um ano doloroso para a humanidade, ele teve as suas gravações encerradas pouco antes do início da pandemia, ainda que traga uma atmosfera tão soturna quanto a deste momento histórico.

O primeiro contato aconteceu na sala 305 do CCHL. Era o período letivo acadêmico de 2002/01. Uns quatro ou cinco minutos depois das dezoito horas entra aquele senhor calvo e de óculos. Coloca sua pasta sobre a mesa, acomoda uns textos fotocopiados próximo à pasta; se apresenta. Depois de um sonoro “boa noite”, e de falar o nome da disciplina, diz seu nome: Amadeu Matias. Era o Padre Amadeu. Dezoito anos passaram. Mas ainda ressoa na memória o timbre grave da (...) voz, o riso contagiante e o passo eloquente do seu discurso. Tive o prazer de ser aluno do Padre Amadeu em duas disciplinas que aconteciam sequencialmente uma depois do horário da outra. O ano de ingresso dele na função de professor efetivo da UFPI foi o ano de 2002. Acredito que isso faz de mim um dos membros do grupo de alunas/alunos que pertenceram à primeira turma do Departamento de Filosofia que o Padre Amadeu ministrou aluas. As disciplinas eram Filosofia Medieval e Filosofia da Religião. (shrink)

Este estudo, marcadamente descritivo, foca os rituais do casamento no interior da ilha de Santiago, nos meados do século XIX, procurando compreender como é que o casamento, um ato íntimo entre duas pessoas, podia envolver duas famílias, os vizinhos ou até duas comunidades e quais as etapas percorridas desde a manifestação de interesse do jovem pretendente pela rapariga, até ao casamento. Assim, começa-se por fazer a contextualização de um casamento tradicional, arranjado e realizado, no interior de Santiago, passando pelas diferentes (...) etapas, desde o pedido de noiva aos preparativos que antecedem o dia da cerimónia religiosa e uma série de rituais realizados na residência dos pais da noiva ao longo do dia do casamento, e à noite, antes e depois da consumação do matrimónio. Esta pesquisa bibliográfica, documental e de campo, baseada em entrevistas semiestruturadas, pretende contribuir para a descrição do casamento tradicional, recorrendo a testemunhos de figuras reconhecidas da cultura tradicional e de alguns anciãos respeitados na sua comunidade. Foi possível concluir que tanto o namoro como o casamento, nos dias que correm, são arranjados e realizados em moldes diversos e que os rituais envolventes pouco ou nenhuma relação têm com os eventos descritos no presente trabalho. de Santiago, passando pelas diferentes etapas, desde o pedido de noiva e os preparativos que antecedem o dia da cerimónia religiosa e uma série de rituais realizados na residência dos pais da noiva ao longo do dia, do casamento, e à noite, antes e depois, da consumação do matrimónio. Este trabalho pretende contribuir para a descrição do casamento tradicional recorrendo a testemunhos de figuras reconhecidas da cultura tradicional e de alguns anciãos respeitados na sua comunidade, complementarmente, reforçados pela revisão da parca bibliografia existente sobre este assunto. Foi possível, através desta pesquisa, concluir que tanto o namoro como o casamento, nos dias que correm, são arranjados e realizados em moldes diversos e que os rituais envolventes pouco ou nenhuma relação têm com os eventos descritos neste trabalho. (shrink)

O objetivo foi descrever a ocorrência da violência sofrida por profissionais de saúde na Urgência e Emergência de um hospital do norte do país. Identificar a violência no setor de urgência e emergência possibilita gerar informações sobre a realidade de hospitais, o que colabora em sanar tais problemas que ocorram nos mesmos. A metodologia foi de abordagem quantitativa, com a aplicação de questionário com questões sobre violência sofrida e praticada no trabalho e sobre dados das vítimas e dos agressores, junto (...) aos profissionais do centro de urgência e emergência do hospital pesquisado. Os resultados da pesquisa apontaram a conclusão de que o principal autor de violência laboral é o paciente de 31 a 40 anos e as maiores vítimas são as mulheres que trabalham no turno da noite, recebem entre R$ 1.000 e 2.999 e não contam com pós-graduação. Portanto, são necessárias estratégias saneadoras para o problema da violência entre profissionais de saúde. (shrink)

Na história da filosofia americana, há um filão de pensamento sobre os signos na natureza. Animais, insetos, árvores, flores, o clima, paisagens e a noite estrelada são todos encontrados expressivos de diversos significados. Além disso, esses fenômenos naturais são considerados por pensadores, como Ralph Waldo Emerson e Charles S. Peirce, como dotados de um caráter representativo no seu núcleo ontológico. A minha apresentação baseia-se nesta tradição, explorando a semiose da natureza em toda a sua extensão e no que diz respeito (...) ao seu ser fundamental. O seu objetivo é desvendar alguns fundamentos metafísicos que apoiariam a semiose universal, bem como defender a primazia de uma dimensão estética no centro da atividade semiótica. (shrink)

Em suas análises de Édipo-Rei, Michel Foucault recorda que a manifestação da verdade no interior da peça de Sófocles depende necessariamente de indivíduos que possam afirmar: eu vi com meus próprios olhos e eu escutei com meus próprios ouvidos. Do alto de seu poder autocrático, Édipo é aquele que tudo viu e tudo ouviu e por isso tudo sabe e tudo pode, mas vê-se ao final obrigado a se exilar, andando a esmo através do mundo na noite de sua cegueira. (...) Partindo dos deuses e passando pelos reis e pelos escravos, é o desvelamento da verdade que o leva a furar os próprios olhos e, para sempre, abrir os ouvidos. (shrink)

Se queremos analizar as causas do ascenso electoral do PP e a conquista da alcaldía, deberiamos ter en conta que durante moitos anos o PSOE traballou para o PP, abandonando na Coruña a política de esquerdas e unha pedagoxía política progresista, e centrando o seu obxectivo en recoller votos da dereita. Cando o impulsor desa política é «desterrado» ao Vaticano, o PP non tivo máis que recoller os votos que previamente sementara o propio PSOE. E aí están os resultados. Este (...) libro completa unha triloxía iniciada coa publicación en 2003 de A Coruña de Paco Vázquez e en 2007 con Outra Coruña é posíbel, que poden ser ferramentas útiles para que a cidadanía e futuras xeracións poidan coñecer un pouco mellor a historia dos últimos corenta anos. Os auténticos valedores de Carlos Negreira, o mesmo que de Paco Vázquez, son os poderes fácticos da Coruña, é dicir, aqueles que sempre mandaron e nunca se presentan ás eleccións. Antonio Fontenla, presidente da Confederación de Empresario, presentaba así a Carlos Negreira: «Es un amigo con el que puedes contar; con pocas personas nos hemos entendido tan bien, casi sin hablar». Esta sintonía entre o poder económico e político continuou durante os catro anos do goberno de Negreira, favorecendo os intereses do capital, de grandes empresarios e promotores inmobiliarios, e procurando manter as honras a fascistas concedidas durante a ditadura. Está nas nosas mans acabar con esta longa noite de pedra. (shrink)

Romance sui generis, sua estrutura narrativa se tece a partir de contos interconectados, sempre eivados de paixões intensas a ponto de pôr em cheque não só os limites entre fantasia e fato, como também a própria noção de realidade. Sua densa trama psicológica, exuberantemente simbólica, toca aspectos profundos da existência humana. Seu título é uma referência à menção de G.W. Hegel à 'Coruja de Minerva', em que afirma que apenas quando as civilizações aproximam-se de sua decadência final, de sua derradeira (...) agonia, pode a Filosofia expressar algo de substancial conteíudo acerca de sua história, pois tais verdades mais profundas a respeito só poderiam ser capturadas ao saírem de cena ao sobrevir do "crepúsculo", ou seja, apenas em retrospecto. Portanto, a reflexão dos filósofos abordaria a história humana de maneira análoga ao olhar da coruja de caça ao sobrevoar os campos ao cair da noite. Estaria uma última 'Coruja de Minerva' já pairando sobre a humanidade neste século 21, tão obscurecido por temores e sinais apocalípticos? (shrink)

INTRODUCTION BY NANCY FUMERO What is a translation that stalls comprehension? That, when read, parsed, obfuscates comprehension through any language – English, Portuguese. It is inevitable that readers expect fidelity from translations. That language mirror with a sort of precision that enables the reader to become of another location, condition, to grasp in English in a similar vein as readers of Portuguese might from João Guimarães Rosa’s GRANDE SERTÃO: VEREDAS. There is the expectation that translations enable mobility. That what was (...) written in one language be accessible in another. And that a translator is to serve as a mediator, acting ultimately in service to ideas within the source text. To disperse them. However, this notion of translation is partly antithetical to the ideas in Rosa’s work. Or, alternately, to convey the despair of terrain slipping beneath one’s feet, and to encounter the heightened suspense of magic, the translation, as part of its strategy, cannot devotedly rely on its original language, not as its source text. The work undertaken by Felipe W.Martinez is a new form of translation that risks everything in order to encounter the same treacherous knowing Rosa had traversed. And it takes its risks by not taking risks: by being, almost word for word, a literal translation. This is an approach that reductively converts, as opposed to translates. The idiomatic differences between English and Portuguese are not accented. The syntax is not finessed. Liberties are not assumed on account of improving readability. What stands, resoundingly amid such absences, is the awakened challenge of reading. The genuine peril of not knowing. That is, this translation, one that purports to know nothing, creates access into the guileful world Rosa had created in Portuguese. But not by translating. If anything, GRANDE SERTÃO: VEREDAS is speaking a cosmic language through a linguistic one. And W.Martinez does us the service of recognizing this, as what configures the shapes of words and sentences is not as simple as neologisms, portmanteaus, and digressions, but as terrifying as the path the fool traverses: all paths. As such, this translation doesn’t speak English, just as the original does not speak Portuguese. It is the assemblage of paradox as a new logic that can be navigated, if only one could suspend the comfort of readability, of expectation. If one could descend a mountain in the pitch dark of night, each step shocking the body, unable to acclimate to the unleveled heights. Without a doubt, the translation is incongruous to the Portuguese. Taking a small excerpt to compare: Eh, well, thereafter, the rest the Sir provide: comes the bread, comes the hand, comes the god, comes the dog. What is striking is the interplay between “god” and “dog”. To most English speakers, this anagram is a familiar one. But in Portuguese the words god (“deus”) and dog (“cão”) are not so closely linked. In fact, there is no direct mention of “deus” in Rosa’s text: Eh, pois, empós, o resto o senhor prove: vem o pão, vem a mão, vem o são, vem o cão. Both are fascinating. In Rosa’s excerpt, the rhythm is unmistakable and precise, despite, of course, the indices of hesitation: the commas, the Eh, the uncomfortable way of searching through prolongation and wait. This is the sort of paradox Rosa can engage within a sentence. W.Martinez’s does this as well, at a scale that reverberates beyond the sentence, and with one noticeable addition: deus. What may appear to be an overstep, to add such a weighted word that draws out wordplay but is, nevertheless, not in the source text, is exemplary of risk. The translation buzzes because of it. This is because throughout the text we encounter dogs frequently, as some primal beast on par with humans. The dog is one that masters and can be mastered. A creature that is at times its face, and at others a mask. It is a powerful presence. For the translator to be attuned to the reverent undercurrent attributed to this animal, and create within the translation such charged play in English from what was only an implication in Portuguese, is in tribute to the grand beauty within dissonance. What aberrant modes of writing and translation can teach us most assuredly, is that things, words, are not in states of rightness or wrongness, but of oscillation. This isn’t so different from what Rosa says himself: The Sir look…see: the most important and beautiful, of the world, is this: that the people are not always same, still were not completed — but that they go always shifting. They tune or detune. We find this so readily in W.Martinez’s translation, this tuning and detuning. Nancy Fumero Los Angeles GRAND SERTÃO: VEREDAS BY JOÃO GUIMARÃES ROSA TRANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE BY FELIPE W.MARTINEZ Nonothing. Shots that the Sir heard were man brawling not, God be. Bleach white sights on the tree in the backyard, down in the river. By my right. I do this every day, I like; from the bad of boyhood. Thereof they came to call on me. Case of a calf: a white calf, errorful, eyes of to not be—saw selves—; and with a mask of a dog! They told me; I didn’t want to catch a sight. Same that, by the defects of birth, upturned lips, looked to be a laughing man. Folkface, dogface: they determined—it was the devil. Bananas. Killed it. Do not know who owned it. They came to borrow my guns. I caved. I’ve no power to impose. Oh, sir, you laugh certain laughs…Look: when it’s a true shot, first the dogs begin to bark, instantly—after, then, you see who’s handed death. Sir, endure, this is the Sertão. Some want that it is not: that situated Sertão is in and out of those general fields, they say, end of the road, highlands, the other Urucuia. Toleima. For those of Cortino and of Curvelo, then, isn’t here said Sertão? Ah! That there’s more! To place the Sertão it’s told: it’s where the pastures lack latches; where one can tear off ten, fifteen leagues without running into a houseinhabitant; where criminalousness lives out its christ jesus. Sifted out from the tightening grip of the law. The Urcuia comes from the western mountains. But today, its banks, give all—farmlands of farms, pastures of meadows of good yield, low tides, cultures that go kill for kill, until these virgins there are. The general fields run round. These general fields are without size. Ultimately, whichever one one approves, the Sir knows: bread or breads, it’s a question of heads…the Sertão is everywhere. Of the devi? No comment. Sir ask the dwellers. Falsely I fear they unspeak that name of his—only say: whatsitcalled. Volt! no… Whosoever over avoids it, lives with it. In the sentence of one Aristides—who exists in the first palm grove on the right hand side, called Vereda-of-Cow-Calm-of-Saint-Rita—everyone believes: he can't pass in three designated places: then can be heard the tiny cry, behind, a little voice warning:— "Here I come! Here I come!... "— that is the Capirote, the whatsitcalled... And one Jise Simplicio—who anyone from here will swear he keeps an imp in house, a little satanite, imprisoned and obliged to help in all greedful deeds; reason that Simplicio emprises en route to complete riches. As such, for this they say too that his beast bristles and refuses, denying his banner, unyielding, when he wishes to mount... Superstition. Jise Simplicio and Aristides, continue getting fatter, thence unheard or heard. Still the Sir study: right now, in these days of time, you have people purporting that the devil proper stopped, mid-passage, in Andrequice. A boy out of there, to whom'd appeared, and there lauded that, to get here—normally, by horse, a day-n-half—he was capable of such with only some twenty minutes enough... by coasting the River of Chico by the headwaters! Or, too, who knows—sans offense—will not have been, for example, even yourself the Sir who announced such, when you passed by there, for fun run funny? Thereof, not my given crime, I know that wasn't. And evil I wanted not. Only that one question, in hours, at times, brightens peaceful reason. But, the Sir understand: if such a boy, there was, he wanted to dupe. Because, hey, that, to cut the river off by the springs, would be the same thing as one redoubling in the internals of this our state of ours, costant of a journey of some three months... Then? Whatsitcalled? Dodo. The fantastication. And, the respect of giving him such these names of delicacy, is what it is for one to want to invoke that he form of form, with his presence! Not that is. I, personally, almost that have lost in him the creed, deserving to Deus; is the that to the Sir I say, to pure-secret. I know that it is well established, that it greases our Saintly-Gospels. On occasion, I conversed with a young seminarian, super suitable, conferring in the book of prayers and coated in vestments, with a stick of black-sage in hand—prosed that he went auxilitator to the father, to extract the Cujo, from the body living of an oldwoman, in Waterfalls-of-Bulls, he went with the vicar of Field-Round... I conceive. The Sir not is as I? I didn't believe a single thing. Compadre mine Quelemem describes that that which reveals effect are the low spirits meager, of third, adoing in the worst darkness and with anxieties of connecting selves with the livers—they give support. Compadre mine Quelemem is who much me consoles—Quelemem of Goias. But he has to live far from here, in Jijuja, Vereda of Buriti Dark... Ahrr, I leave myself there, that in enevildemonment or with support—the Sir too must have had known diverse, men, women. As not yes? For me, umpteen I've seen, that I've learned. Ma-Neigh, Blood-o'Other, or Legion-Lips, or Tear-em-Down, Cold-Cutter, or Sissy-Goat, one Treciziano, or Verdigris... or Hermogenes... o'them, pileload. If I could forget so many names... I'm not a man for calming horses! And, same, whom of yes of to be jagunço self enters, yea is for some competence entrant of demonion. Will it not? Will it? From first, I made and mixed, and to think not I thought. I didn't have the deadlines. I lived pulling difficult from difficult, fish alive on griddle: who lives asp'rously, no fantasies. But, now, fete of fate to me comes, and sans little disquietudes, I'm from creaky net. And myself invented in this like, of to speculate ideas. The devil exists and nonexists? I say the saying. Opennouncement. These melancholies. The Sir sees: exists waterfall; and since? But waterfall is gulch of ground, and water so pouring from it, retumbling; the Sir consume that water, or undo that bankment, remainder waterfall any? To live is negotiation much perilous. I explain to the Sir: the devil vigors inside of human, the wrinkles of human— or is the human ruin, or the human of adversess. I free, per se, citizen, is that not has devil notone. Notone!— is the that I say. The Sir approve? Me declares total, frank— is high merit that me make: and to beg might, increased. This case— by rashtravagance that me they see— is of mine certain importance. God grant not was... But, not say that the Sir, awised and instructed, that agrees in people of them?! Not? You I appreciate! Your high opinion composes my value. Yea I knew, waited for it— yea the field! Ah, a we, in oldness, we lack of to have plowing of rest. You I appreciate. Is devil notone. Nor esprit. Never I've seen. Someone ought to see, then was I myself, this your servant. Was I you to tell... Well, the devil regulate his state black, ins creatures, ins womens, ins humans. E'en: ins childrens— I declaim. Since not is said: "boy—trainee of the devil"? And ins thes uses, ins plants, ins waters, in terra, in wind... Manures. …The devil in the street, in the middle of the vortex... Hey? Hey? Ah. Figuration mine, of worse by back, the certain memories. Mal-make me! I suffer pain of to tell not…Meliorate, if chillingly: well, in a ground and with equal format of branches and leaves, not give to cassava-calm, that is eaten common, and the cassava-mad that kills? Now, the Sir yea saw a strangeness? A cassava-sweet can rapidly to turn agonizing— motives not I know, at times is said that is for replanted in the terrain always, with mutations then, of caules—go embittering, of s’much in s’much, of its self takes poisons. And, well look: the other, the cassava-mad, too is that at times can fix calm, the estimate, of is to eat sans notone mal. And what this is? Eh, the Sir yea saw, for to see, the ugliness of hate pleated, facetorqued, on the faces of one cobrarattlesnake? Observed the porker fat, capita day more felicity brute, capable of, could, snort and engulf for its own dirty coziness the world total? And sparrowhawk, blackbird, some, the features of they yea represent the need of cleave for before, rend and shred by beak, appears a knife much fine for ruin I desire. Total. Has even twisted races of stone, horrorous, venomous— that spoil mortal the aquas, if they are buried beneath of well; the devil inside of them sleeps: they are the devil. Is known? And the demon— that is only thus the significance of one mercury malign— have order of to follow the path of him, have license to brag?! Arr, he is variegated in all! What the what wastes, goes spending the devil of inside of the people, by itttybits, is the reasonable to suffer. And the delight of love—compadre mine Quelemem says. Family. Really? Is, and not is. The Sir think and not think. Total is and not is… Almost all more grave criminous ferocity, always is much good husband, good son, good father, and is good-friend-of-your-friends! I know of those. Solo that have the afters— and Deus, joined. I spy many nimbi. But, in veracity, son, too, softens. Look: one called Aleixo, resident a league from Step-of-Sour, in Of-Sand, was the man of major badness calm that yea you saw. Me agreed that near the house of his had a weir, amidst the palms, with traíras, for souls of enormous, desenormous, to the real, that received fame; the Aleixo gave of to eat to them, in hours just, they self accustomed to if assuch of lunacies, in order to gobble, seemed to be fishes instructed. One day, solo for grace rustic, he killed an oldman who by there passed, destitute begging alms. The Sir not doubt—have people, in this bored world, that kill solo in order to see someone make grimace… Eh, well, thereafter, the rest the Sir provide: comes the bread, comes the hand, comes the god, comes the dog. This Aleixo was man afamilied, had children small; they were the love of his, total, absurdity. Gave good, that not even a year there passed, of to killed the oldman poor, and the children of Aleixo there they asickened. Smallepidemic of measles, they said, but complex; they never heal. When, then, they healed. But the eyes of theirs vermillionized high in an inflame of spraining to rebellion; and nexthing— the that not I know is if they went of at once, or one later and later other and other— they remained blind. Blind, sans remission of one sweet of light of this Ours! The Sir imagine: stairset— three boys and one girl— all blind. Sans remediable. The Aleixo not lost the judgment, but he changed; ah, mutated complete— now lives of band of Deus, sweating to be good and charitous in all his hours of night and of day. Appears even that he fixed the felicity, that before not was. He himself says he was a man of luck, because Deus wanted to have pity of him, to transform for there the route of his soul. That I heard, and me it gave rage. Reason of the children. If being castigated, what culpa of the let-there-bes of Aleixo those little children had?! Compadre mine Quelemem reproved my uncertainties. That, for certain, inother life returnaound, the children too had been the most wicked, of the mass and part of the father, demons of the same kettle of place. Sir the what thinks? And the oldman, assassinated? — I know the Sir goes to discuss. Well, too. In order that he had a sin of crime, in the body, by to pay. If the people— conforming compadre mine Quelemem is who says— if the people turn to to incarnate renovated, I contemplate even that enemy of death can come as son of the enemy. Look see: if to myself I say, has a subject Pedro Pindo, neighbor of here more six leagues, man of good for all in all, he and the woman of his, always been good, of goodness. They have a son of some ten years called Valtei—name modern, is the that the population of here now appreciates, the Sir knows. Well this-little-thing, thislet, since that some understanding illuminated in him, deed demonstrated the that is: petition stepfather, acid burner, likeful of ruin of inside of the profundity of the species of its nature. In which that torments, to the slowly, of all beasts or raisinglings little that quarrel; one time he found a creole woman hooched foolish sleeping, he arranged a shard of bottle, lashed at three points on the stern of the legs of hers. The what this boy drooled seeing, is bleeding hen or to knife pig.— “I enjoy of to kill…”— one occasion he teeny me told. He opened in me a fright; because: birdy that self leans over— the flight yea is ready! Well the Sir oversee: the pa, Pedro Pindo, mode of to correct this, and the ma, they give in him, misery and mast—they cast the boy sans to eat, they tied to trees in the yard, he nude, unplumed, even in June cold, they tilled the bittybody of his with the trammel and with the goblet, after they cleansed the skin of the sanguine, with bottle gourd brine. The people know, spy, fix wasted. The boy yea relowered of thinness, the eyes entering, caress of bones, enskulled, and tuberculated, the time total hacking, coughness of the that draw parched pectorals. Arr, that now, visible, the Pindo and the woman self habituated of on him hit, of little bit in little they were creating in this a pleasure ugly of diversion— as they regulate the canings in hours certain comfortable, until they call people to see the example good. I think that boy not endure, yea there is in the ta-da, not arrive for the lent to come… Ooee-ooee, then?! Not being as compadre mine Quelemem to want, that explication is that the Sir bestowed? That boy had to be a man. He should, in swing, terrible perversities. Soul of his was in the pitch. Demonstrated. And, now, paid. Ah, but, happens, when he’s crying and paining, he suffers equal that as was as a boy good… Bird, I saw all, in this world! Yea I saw even horse with hiccups… —the that the thing most costous that is. Good, but the Sir may say, should of: and in the start— for offenses and arts, the people— as for that was that s’much amended was started? Ey, ey, ey all collided. Compadre mine Quelemem, too. Am solo a sertanite, in these high ideas I navigate mal. Am much poor poor-thing. Envy my pedigree and of ones conform the Sir, with total reading and doctoration. Not is that I be illiterate. I spelt, years and middle, midly speller, memory and palmer. I had master, Master Lucas, in the Curralinho, he memorized grammar, the operations, rule-of-three, even geography and study patria. On leaves great of paper, with caprice I traced handsome maps. Ah, not is for to speak: but, since of the start, me they thought sophisticated of side. And that I merited of to go to course latin, in Lesson Waterlily—that too they said. Time nostalgic! Going today, I appreciate a good book, despaced. On the farm The Lilittlelemon, of one mine friend Vito Soziano, so sign of this almanac thick, of logoglyphs and conundrums and other divided matters, all year come. In s’much, I place primacy is in the reading advantageous, life of saints, virtues and examples— missionary astute engambling the Indians, or Saint Francis of Assis, Saint Anthony, Saint Gerald… I like much of moral. To ratiocinate, exhort the others for the good way, to acounsel to just. Mine woman, that the Sir knows, vigils for me: much prayer. She is a blessable. Compadre mine Quelemem always says that I may to aquiet my fears on conscience, that being well-attended, terrible good-esprits me protect. Eep! With like… As is of saint effect, I help with mine to want to accredit. But not even always can I. The Sir knew: I total the mine life I thought for me, lining, I am born different. I am and I same. I divert of total the world… I almost that nothing not I know. But I disconfide of many things. The Sir, conceding, I say: in order to think long, I am dog master— the Sir loose in mine front an idea ease and I research that by profundity of total the backwoods, amen! Look: the should of to have, was of so reunited-selves the wise, politicos, constitutions graded, closed the definitive the notion— to proclaim for one time, art assemblies, that not have devil notone, not exists, not possible. Valor of law! Solo assuch, they gave tranquility good to the people. Because the government not cares?! Ah, I know that not is possible. Not me settled the Sir for philistine. One this is to place ideas arranged, other is to deal with country of people, of flesh and sanguine, of thousand-and-many miseries… S’many people—gives scare of to know—and notone so calms: All nascenting, crescendoing, so wedding, wanting collocation of employment, consumables, health, abundance, to be important, wanting rain and affairs good… Of luck that lacks of so to choose: or we t’weave of to live in the salacious common, or care solo of religion solo. I could to be: father clergyman, if not chief of jagunços; for other things not was I birthed. But mine oldness yea principaled I erred of total account. And the rheumatism… There as whom says: in the primers. Ahem. Hey? Hey? The that more I think, I testify and explain: all-the-world is mad. The Sir, I, we, the people all. For this is that so lacks principally of religion: in order to desendodorize, to disdodoate. Pray is that heals of lunacy. In the general. This is that is the salvation-of-the-soul…Much religion your servant! I here, not I lose occasion of religion. I profit of all. I drink water of all rivers… One solo, for me is little, maybe not me arrives. I pray christian, catholic, I burrow the certain; and I accept the prayers of compadre mine Quelemem, doctrine of he, of Kardec. But, when I can, I go in the Mindubim, where one Matias is believer, methodist: the people so accuse of sinner, reads high the bible, and why, singing hymns beautiful of his. Total me quiets, me suspends. Whatever small shade me refreshes. But is solo much provisory. I wanted to pray— the time total. Many people not me approve, they think that law of Deus is privileges, invariable. And I! Doof! I Detest! The what I am? — the what I do, that want, much curia. And in face of total I face, executed. I? —not I trammel. Look: I have a black girl, Maria Leoncia, long from here not she lives, the prayers of her afame much virtue of power. Well to her I pay, every month— ordering of to pray for me one third, every saint day, and, on the Sundays, a rosary. Value, so values. Mine woman not sees mal in this. And I am, yea mandated word for an other, of the voyage-voyage, a Izina Calanga, in order to come here, I heard of that prayer too with grand mermermerits, I go to effect with she treatment equal. I want handful of those, me defending in Deus, reunited of me in volta… Cuts of Christ! To live is much perilous… To want the good with too much force, of incertain way, can yea to be being so wanting the mal, per to initiate. These humans! All they pull the world for itself, for the to concert amended. But capita one solo sees and understands the things of one his world. Amountain, the most supro, most serious was Mediero Vaz. That one man ancient… his Joaozy Ben-Ben, the most brave of all, no-one never can decipher how he by inside consisted. Joca Ramiro— grand man prince!— was politico. Zé Bebelo wanted to be politico, but had and not had luck: fox that lingered. So Candelario so demonized, by to think that was with illness mal. Titao Passos was the by the appreciation of friends: solo per via of them, of his same amities, were that such high so ajagunçoed. Antonio Do— severe bandit. But by half, grand majority half that be. Andalecio, in the profound, a good man-of-good, being raving in his total justice. Ricardao, same, wanted was to be rich in peace: for this he warred. Solo the Hermogenes was that born formed tiger, and assassinite. And the “Ofidios White”? Ah, not me speak. Ah this… joyless mischeivious, that was— that was a poor boy of the destiny… So good, congruous. The Sir heard, I you told: the ruin with the ruin, they terminate by the spine-bushes so to crack— Deus awaits that spendance. Boy!: Deus is patience. The contrary, is the devil. So consumes. The Sir file knife on knife— and file— that so they scrape. Even the rocks of the profound, one of in the other, they go-so aroundabounding even, that the rivulet rolls. Per enquantity, that I think, total as hath, in this world, is because so merits and lacks. Afterly precise. Deus not so reports with rifle, not garrotes the regulation. For what? Quit: goof with goof—one day, some illumination and learn: smart. Solo that, at times, for most auxiliar, Deus begets, in the middle, a pinch of pepper… Therebe? Well, for example: some time, I went of train, there in Seven-Lagoons, for parts of to consult a medical, of name me indicated. He went vested well, and in car of first, by via of the doubts, not me they shadowed for jagunço ancient. It goes and happens, that, close same of me, enfront, he took aseat, returning from the wild North, a mac Jazevedao, delegate professionale. Came with a capanga of his, an undercover, and I well knew the two, of that s’much a was ruin, as the other ruin was. The veracity to say, first I had the strict of me to surpasss for one lonng, to mutate of my place. Judgement me told, meliorate stay. Well, looking, I looked. And— you I tell: never I saw face of man furnished of brutez or malady more, of the them in that. As that was ogre, trussed of thickset, relustered of crude in the eyes small, and armed a chin of stone, toweringbrow; not of mid nor forehead. Not laughed, not so laughed not even one time; but, speaking or silent, the people appeared always to him some teeth, prey pointed of canids. Arr, and blustered, an ittybit. Solo growled curt, low, the mid-words grizzled. He came relooking, historicizing the documents— one by one the leaves with portraits and with the blacks of the digits of jagunços, lifters of horses and criminouses of death. That application of work, in one thing of those, generated the ire in the people. The undercover, busybodyguard, total close, seated joined, attending, excelling of to be dog. Me made a dread, but solo in the goof of the corpus, not in the intern of the courages. One hour, one of those reports fell— and I bent quickly, I knew there precisely by why, not I wanted, not I thought— even today I raise shame of this— I picked the paper of the ground, and delivered to him. Thereof, I say: I had more rage, because I did that; but there yea it was done. The man not even me looked, not even said notone thankfulment. Event he soles of the shoes of his— solo looking— that soles rough thick, bent of enormous, appearing iron bronzed. Because I knew: This Jazevedao, when he apprehended someone, the primary quiet thing that proceeded was that he came entering, sans to have to to say, feigning some hurry, and go stepping on the top of the feet of the poorthings. And that on these occasions he gave laughters, gave… Well, geck! I delivered to him the leaf of paper, and went leaving of there, by to have hand on me of not to destroy by shots that subject. Meat that much they weigh… And umbilicated beginning of belly pot bellied, that me created will… With my lightness, joyful that I’d kill. But, the barbarities that this delegate made and happened, the Sir not even has callus in heart to be able me to hear. He achieved of many men and women to cry blood, for the simple universolo ours here. Sertão. The Sir knows: sertão is where mandates who is strong, with the guile. And bullet is a tidbit of metal… S’much, I say: Jazevedao— one assuch, should of to have, needed? Ah, need. Leather ruined is that calls goad of point. That there be that, after— business particular of he— in the life or in the other, each Jazevedao, accomplished the that he has, desclimbs in his time of pain, too, until to pay the that he gave— compadre mine Quelemem is there, in order to fiscalize. The Sir knows: the peril that is to live… But solo of the mode, of these, by ugly instrument, was that the jagunsaga so finished. Sir thinks that Antonio Do or Olivino Oliviano were going to fix goodies by pure spelling of itself, or by begging of the infelicitous, or by always to hear sermon of father? You I think! In the aims… Of jagunço comported active in order so to repent in the middle of his jagunsagas, solo I lay of one: called Joe Cazuzo— was in smashing of one shotshow, for on the summit of the place Sierra New, district of river rusted, on the stream Traçadal. We made mal minority small, and they closed in order summit of us the personnel of one Coronel Adalvino, forted politico, with many soldiers uniformed in the center, commanding of the Lieutenant Epiphany Helm, that after fixed captain. We lasted hour more hour, and yea gave almost of encircled. There, of misslip, that Joe Cazuzo— man much valiant— so kneeled turned on the ground of the thick, lifted the arms that not even shoots of Jatoba dry, and solo yell, howl clear and howl deaf:— “I saw the Virgin Ours, in the resplendor of the Heavens, with her children of angels!... ” He screamed not touched. — “I saw the Virgin!... ” He ensouled? We desequaled. Bolt for my horse—that I thought— I leaped in mal seat, noteven I knew in which rupture-time I unfastened the halter, of tied up it foot of timber. I flew, arrived. Bullet come. The pasture roared. In the brush, the fear of the people so goes to the whole, one fear intentional. I could to lash out, fated burro brute, giv-that, giv-that. Some two or three bullets so drovein the pad of the mine saddle, they perforated of to tear away almost much the kapok of the filling. Horse trembled in pro, in middle of gallop, I know: thinks in the owner. I not fit of to be more well shrunken. Bulleted came to the sack that I had on the back, with few mine things. And other, of fusil, in ricochet decreed, heated my thigh, sans me wound, the Sir see: bullet does the what to want—so pierced impressed, between in me and the harness! Times crazy… Burumbum!: the horse so kneeled in the fall, dead perhaps, and I yea falling for front, embraced in foliage full, branched and linias, that me swayed and skewered, done I was pendulating in web of spider… Whither? I traversed that life total… Of fear of anxiety, I ruptured to read with mine corpus that forest, I know there — and me fell world below, rolled for the hollow of a grotto closed of shrubs, always me grasped— rolled same assuch: after: after, when I saw mine hands, total on they that not was withdrawn sanguine, was smeared green, on the digits, of leaves living that I pulled and mashed… I landed on the sedge of the profound— and a beast dark gave a releap, with a sneeze, too mad of fright: that was a papa-mel, that I descried; in order to flee, this is solely. Bigger being I, me doused mine overcoat; I spigotted total. And of one bit of thought: if that beast irara lying there then there not had cobra. I took the place of his. Existed cobra notone. I could me to lose. I was solo spineless, softness, but that not deadened, inside, the collisions of the heart. I gasped. I conceived that they came, me kill. Not even did mal, me mattered not. Assuch, some moments, at least I guarded the license of term in order me to rest. Conforming I thought in Diadorim. Solo I thought was in he. One joão-congo sang. I wanted to die thinking in my friend Diadorim, hand-o-bro, who was on the Sierra of WoodO’Bow, almost on the border baiana, with our other half of the so-candelarios… With my friend Diadorim me embraced, sentiment my went-flew right for he… Ay, arr, but: that this mine mouth not has order notone. I am accounting outside, things divagated. In the Sir me confide? Til-that, til-that. Say the angel-of-the-guard… But, conforming I came: after so knew, that same the soldiers of the Lieutenant and the goats of Coronel Adalvino remitted of to respect the blast of that Joe Cazuzo. And that this ended being the man most pacificious of the world, fabricator of oil and sacristan, in the Saint Sundays White. Times! For total, cleaned revelation, I fix thinking. I like. Meliorate, for the idea if well to open, is travelling in train-of-iron. Could, lived to top and to bottom, inside of it. Information that I ask: same in the Heavens, end of end, how is that the soul wins so to forget s’much sufferments and maladies, in the received and in the given? The how? The Sir knows: are things of hideous ofmuch, have. Pain of corpus and pain of idea mark forted, that forted as the total love and rage of hate. Goes, sea… Of luck that, then, the Firmiano, by appellationed Louse-of-Snake, so leoprosized with the leg disconformed, thickening, of that disease that not so cures; and not discern almost more, constant the branchials in the eyes, of the cataracts. Of before, years, had to of so disarray of the jagunsaga. Well, one occasion, some was on the ranch of his, on the High Jeuitai, after accounted—that, turns time, comes subject, he would say: “Me give yearning is of to seize a soldier, and such, for one good flay, with knife blind… But, first, to castrate…” The Sir conceive? Who has more dose of demon in self is Indian, any race of brusque. Folk see nation ofthese, for there profound of the generals of Goias, theofwhere has vagarous grand rivers, of aquas always so clear pleasantly, running of down crystal rosed… Louse-of-Snake gave of sanguine of heathen. Sir me will say: but that he pronounced that out of mouth, manner of to represent that yet not was old decadent. Opus of to oppose, for fear of to be tame, and cause in order so to see respected. Total listened for such rule: palavered of ruins, for more so valued, because we to the environs is hard durability. The worst, but, is that they finish, through the same ford, given of one day to execute the declared, in the real. I saw s’much crudity! Pain not pays to account; if I go, I collide. And me dedrip, three that me sicken, this total. Me convokes that the personnel, today in day, is good of heart. This is, good in the trivial. Malices wildwants, and perversities, always have some, but scarcities. Generation mine, true, was not assuch. Ah, goes to turn a time, in which not is used more to kill people… I yea am old. Good, I was saying: question, this that me excavates… Ah, I formed that question, for compadre mine Quelemem. That me responded: that, for close to heaven, we so amplified so, that total the uglies past so exhaled of not to be—fated sans-modus from time of youngster, mal-arts. As we not lack of to have remorse of the which divulged in the pulsation of his nightmares of one night. Assuch that: fleeced-so, flourished-so! Ahem. For this said, is that the journey to the Heavens is delayed. I confide with compadre mine Quelemem, the Sir knows: reason of creed same that has—that, for total the mal, that so does, one day so repays, the exact. Subject assuch rises three times, in ante of to want to facilitate in any minutia reprehensible… Compadre mine Quelemem never speaks vacant, not subtreats. Solo that this to he not I go to expose. We never should have to declare that accept entire the alien—that is what is the rule of the king! The Sir look…see: the most important and beautiful, of the world, is this: that the people are not always same, still were not completed — but that they go always shifting. They tune or detune. Truth major. Is the that the life me taught. This that me animates, mound. And, other thing: the devil and the brutes; but Deus is treacherous! Ah, a beauty of treacherous— gives like! The force of his, when he wants— boy!— me gives the fear dread! Deus comes coming: no one not sees. He does in the law of gentle— assuch is the miracle. And Deus attacks beautiful, so amusing, so economizes. The well: one day in a tannery, the little knife mine I had dropped inside of a tank, solo soup of bark of tan, stryphnodendron adstringens, angico, there I know. —“Tomorrow I try…”— I said, withmyself. Because it was of night, light notone I not disputed. Ah, then, I found: on the other day, early, the knife, the iron of it, had been gnawed, almost by half, by that aqua dark, total quiet. I left, for more to see. Crack, fuse! Know the what was? Well, in that same of afternoon, there: of the little knife solo so found the handle… The handle, for not to be of cold metal, but of horn of deer. There is: Deus… Good, the Sir heard knows, the that knows me understands… We sum, not think that religion fractures. Sir think the contrary. Visible that, those other times, I painted—belief that the neoglaziovia variegata lifts the flower. Ah, good my joy… Boyhood. But boyhood is task for more later so to deny. Too, I of that of to think in vague in s’much, lost mine hand-of-man for the management hot, in the middle of all. But, today, that I ratiocinated, and think the endeavor, not nor for this not I give for low my competence, in a fire-and-iron. The to see. Would approach would come here with war on me, with bad parts, with other laws, or with excessive looks, and I even draw to ignite this zone, ay, if, if! Is in the mouth of the blunderbuss: is in the rete-te-tem… And lonelyonly not I am, there-of-the. For not this, I was I placed encircle my mine people. Look the Sir: here, close, vereda below, the Paspe — cropper my — is mine. More league, if that, have the Herpetotheres, and have the compadre Ciril, him and three children, I know that they serve. Band of that hand, the Alaripe: knew the Sir the that is that so boasts, in rifleation and by the knife, one cearense did this! After more: the João Innatal, the Quipes, Lophiosilurus-of-claws. And the Fafafa— this gave fights high, all side with me, in the combat old of the Anteater-such: we cleaned the wind of whom not had order of to respirate, and ante these we desencompassed… The Fafafa has a mass of mares. He raises horses good. Even a little more distant, on the ped-of-sierra, of band mine was the Sesfred, Jesualdo, the Nelson, and João Concliz. Some others. The Triol… And not I go valuing? I leave terra with them, of theirs the what is mine is, we close that we not even brothers. For what I want to gather richness? They are there, of arms aireated. Enemy to come, we cross called, gathering: is hour of one good shotshowerment in peace, they exp’riment to see. I say this to the Sir, of confidence. Too, not go to think in double. We want is to work, propose tranquility. Of me, person, I live for mine woman, that total mode-meliorate merits, and for the devotion. Well-to want of mine woman was that me assisted, prayers of hers, graces. Love comes of love. I say. In Diadorim, I think too— but Diadorim is the mine nebulina… Now, well: not I wanted to touch on this more— of the Tineaous; arrive. But has a nevertheless: I ask: the Sir believe, think trust of truth in that parlance, of with the demon so to able to deal with pact? No, no is no? I knew that not there. I spoke of favas. But I like of total good confirmation. To vend you proper soul… Inventionate false! And, soul, the what is? Soul of has to be thing internal supremed, much more of the of inside, and is solo, of the that one if thought: ah, soul sheer! Decision of to vend soul is fearless moll, fantasied of moment, has not the obedience legal. Can I to vend those good terras, thereof of between the Veredas-Four— that are of one Mr. Admiral, who resides in the capital federal? Can I some? Then, if one boy boy is, and for this not so authorizes of to negotiate… And we, this I know, at times is solo fated boy. Mal that in mine life I prepared, I was in a certain infancy in dreams — total runs and arrives so swift —; will be that if hath flame of responsibilities? If dream; yea so did… I gave rapadura to the chump! Ahem. Well. If his soul, and has, it is of Deus established, not even that the person want or not want. Not is vendible. The Sir not thinks? Me declare, frank, I beg. Ah, you I appreciate. You so see that the Sir knows much, in idea firm, beyond of to have letter of doctor. You I appreciate, for much. Your company me gives high pleasures. In terms, I liked that I would live here, or close, was a help. Here not so has conviviation that to instruct. Sertão. Knows the Sir: sertão is where the thought of the people so forms more forted of the than power of the place. To live is much perilous… Eh, that you so go? Yeayea? Is that not. Today, no. Tomorrow, no. Not I consense. The Sir me forgive, but in endeavor of mine friendship accept: the Sir stay. After fifth of-morning-early, the Sir wanting to go, then goes, same me leaves feeling your absence. But, today or tomorrow, no. Visit, here in house, with me, is for three days! But, the Sir really intends to trespass the field this sea of territotires, for sortment of to confer the what exists? You have your motives. Now— I say for me — the Sir comes, came late, Times were, the customs mutate. Almost that, of legitimate loyal, little surplus, not even no excess more nothing. The bands good of valientoughs they reparted their end; many who were jagunço, by ouch pain, beg alms. Same as the herdsmen they doubt of to come in the commerce vested of clothes entire of leather, they think that garb of jerkin is ugly and boor. And even the herd in the shrubbed pasture goes waning less mad, more educated: casted of zebu, dissee with the rest of corralers and captiveborns. Always, in the generals is to the poverty, to the sadness. A sadness that even gladdens. But, then, for a crop reasonable of bizzarancies, I recounsel of the Sir to entest journey more dilated. Not were my desmight, by acids and rheumatism, there I went. I guided the Sir till total. March 2013 San Diego, CA ORIGINAL TEXT NONADA. TIROS QUE O SENHOR ouviu foram de briga de homem não, Deus esteja. Alvejei mira em árvores no quintal, no baixo do córrego. Por meu acerto. Todo dia isso faço, gosto; desde mal em minha mocidade. Daí, vieram me chamar. Causa dumbezerro: um bezerro branco, erroso, os olhos de nem ser – se viu –; e com máscara de cachorro. Me disseram; eu não quis avistar. Mesmo que, por defeito como nasceu, arrebitado de beiços, esse figurava rindo feito pessoa. Cara de gente, cara de cão: determinaram – era o demo. Povo prascóvio. Mataram. Dono dele nem sei quem for. Vieram emprestar minhas armas, cedi. Não tenho abusões. O senhor ri certas risadas... Olhe: quando é tiro de verdade, primeiro a cachorrada pega a latir, instantaneamente – depois, então, se vai ver se deu mortos. O senhor tolere, isto é o sertão. Uns querem que não seja: que situado sertão é por os campos-gerais a fora a dentro, eles dizem, fim de rumo, terras altas, demais do Urucuia. Toleima. Para os de Corinto e do Curvelo, então, o aqui não é dito sertão? Ah, que tem maior! Lugar sertão se divulga: é onde os pastos carecem de fechos; onde um pode torar dez, quinze léguas, sem topar com casa de morador; e onde criminoso vive seu cristo-jesus, arredado do arrocho de autoridade. O Urucuia vem dos montões oestes. Mas, hoje, que na beira dele, tudo dá – fazendões de fazendas, almargem de vargens de bom render, as vazantes; culturas que vão de mata em mata, madeiras de grossura, até ainda virgens dessas lá há. O gerais corre em volta. Esses gerais são sem tamanho. Enfim, cada um o que quer aprova, o senhor sabe: pão ou pães, é questão de opiniães... O sertão está em toda a parte. Do demo? Não gloso. Senhor pergunte aos moradores. Em falso receio, desfalam no nome dele – dizem só: o Que-Diga. Vote! não... Quem muito se evita, se convive. Sentença num Aristides – o que existe no buritizal primeiro desta minha mão direita, chamado a Vereda-da-Vaca-Mansa-deSanta-Rita – todo o mundo crê: ele não pode passar em três lugares, designados: porque então a gente escuta um chorinho, atrás, e uma vozinha que avisando: – “Eu já vou! Eu já vou!...” – que é o capiroto, o que-diga... E um José Simpilício – quem qualquer daqui jura ele tem um capeta em casa, miúdo satanazim, preso obrigado a ajudar em toda ganância que executa; razão que o Simpilício se empresa em vias de completar de rico. Apre, por isso dizem também que a besta pra ele rupeia, nega de banda, não deixando, quando ele quer amontar... Superstição. José Simpilício e Aristides, mesmo estão se engordando, de assim nãoouvir ou ouvir. Ainda o senhor estude: agora mesmo, nestes dias de época, tem gente porfalando que o Diabo próprio parou, de passagem, no Andrequicé. Um Moço de fora, teria aparecido, e lá se louvou que, para aqui vir – normal, a cavalo, dum dia-e-meio – ele era capaz que só com uns vinte minutos bastava... porque costeava o Rio do Chico pelas cabeceiras! Ou, também, quem sabe – sem ofensas – não terá sido, por um exemplo, até mesmo o senhor quem se anunciou assim, quando passou por lá, por prazido divertimento engraçado? Há-de, não me dê crime, sei que não foi. E mal eu não quis. Só que uma pergunta, em hora, às vezes, clareia razão de paz. Mas, o senhor entenda: o tal moço, se há, quis mangar. Pois, hem, que, despontar o Rio pelas nascentes, será a mesma coisa que um se redobrar nos internos deste nosso Estado nosso, custante viagem de uns três meses... Então? Que-Diga? Doideira. A fantasiação. E, o respeito de dar a ele assim esses nomes de rebuço, é que é mesmo um querer invocar que ele forme forma, com as presenças! Não seja. Eu, pessoalmente, quase que já perdi nele a crença, mercês a Deus; é o que ao senhor lhe digo, à puridade. Sei que é bem estabelecido, que grassa nos Santos- Evangelhos. Em ocasião, conversei com um rapaz seminarista, muito condizente, conferindo no livro de rezas e revestido de paramenta, com uma vara de maria-preta na mão – proseou que ia adjutorar o padre, para extraírem o Cujo, do corpo vivo de uma velha, na Cachoeira-dos-Bois, ele ia com o vigário do Campo-Redondo... Me concebo. O senhor não é como eu? Não acreditei patavim. Compadre meu Quelemém descreve que o que revela efeito são os baixos espíritos descarnados, de terceira, fuzuando nas piores trevas e com ânsias de se travarem com os viventes – dão encosto. Compadre meu Quelemém é quem muito me consola – Quelemém de Góis. Mas ele tem de morar longe daqui, na Jijujã, Vereda do Buriti Pardo... Arres, me deixe lá, que – em endemoninhamento ou com encosto – o senhor mesmo deverá de ter conhecido diversos, homens, mulheres. Pois não sim? Por mim, tantos vi, que aprendi. Rincha- Mãe, Sangued’Outro, o Muitos-Beiços, o Rasgaem-Baixo, Faca-Fria, o Fancho-Bode, um Treciziano, o Azinhavre... o Hermógenes... Deles, punhadão. Se eu pudesse esquecer tantos nomes... Não sou amansador de cavalos! E, mesmo, quem de si de ser jagunço se entrete, já é por alguma competência entrante do demônio. Será não? Será? De primeiro, eu fazia e mexia, e pensar não pensava. Não possuía os prazos. Vivi puxando difícil de dificel, peixe vivo no moquém: quem mói no asp’ro, não fantaseia. Mas, agora, feita a folga que me vem, e sem pequenos dessossegos, estou de range rede. E me inventei neste gosto, de especular idéia. O diabo existe e não existe? Dou o dito. Abrenúncio. Essas melancolias. O senhor vê: existe cachoeira; e pois? Mas cachoeira é barranco de chão, e água se caindo por ele, retombando; o senhor consome essa água, ou desfaz o barranco, sobra cachoeira alguma? Viver é negócio muito perigoso... Explico ao senhor: o diabo vige dentro do homem, os crespos do homem – ou é o homem arruinado, ou o homem dos avessos. Solto, por si, cidadão, é que não tem diabo nenhum. Nenhum! – é o que digo. O senhor aprova? Me declare tudo, franco – é alta mercê que me faz: e pedir posso, encarecido. Este caso – por estúrdio que me vejam – é de minha certa importância. Tomara não fosse... Mas, não diga que o senhor, assisado e instruído, que acredita na pessoa dele?! Não? Lhe agradeço! Sua alta opinião compõe minha valia. Já sabia, esperava por ela-já o campo! Ah, a gente, na velhice, carece de ter sua aragem de descanso. Lhe agradeço. Tem diabo nenhum. Nem espírito. Nunca vi. Alguém devia de ver, então era eu mesmo, este vosso servidor. Fosse lhe contar... Bem, o diabo regula seu estado preto, nas criaturas, nas mulheres, nos homens. Até: nas crianças – eu digo. Pois não é ditado: “menino – trem do diabo”? E nos usos, nas plantas, nas águas, na terra, no vento... Estrumes. ... O diabo na rua, no meio do redemunho... Hem? Hem? Ah. Figuração minha, de pior pra trás, as certas lembranças. Mal hajame! Sofro pena de contar não... Melhor, se arrepare: pois, num chão, e com igual formato de ramos e folhas, não dá a mandioca mansa, que se come comum, e a mandioca-brava, que mata? Agora, o senhor já viu uma estranhez? A mandioca-doce pode de repente virar azangada – motivos não sei; às vezes se diz que é por replantada no terreno sempre, com mudas seguidas, de manaíbas – vai em amargando, de tanto em tanto, de si mesma toma peçonhas. E, ora veja: a outra, a mandiocabrava, também é que às vezes pode ficar mansa, a esmo, de se comer sem nenhum mal. E que isso é? Eh, o senhor já viu, por ver, a feiúra de ódio franzido, carantonho, nas faces duma cobra cascavel? Observou o porco gordo, cada dia mais feliz bruto, capaz de, pudesse, roncar e engolir por sua suja comodidade o mundo todo? E gavião, corvo, alguns, as feições deles já representam a precisão de talhar para adiante, rasgar e estraçalhar a bico, parece uma quicé muito afiada por ruim desejo. Tudo. Tem até tortas raças de pedras, horrorosas, venenosas – que estragam mortal a água, se estão jazendo em fundo de poço; o diabo dentro delas dorme: são o demo. Se sabe? E o demo – que é só assim o significado dum azougue maligno – tem ordem de seguir o caminho dele, tem licença para campear?! Arre, ele está misturado em tudo. Que o que gasta, vai gastando o diabo de dentro da gente, aos pouquinhos, é o razoável sofrer. E a alegria de amor – compadre meu Quelemém, diz. Família. Deveras? É, e não é. O senhor ache e não ache. Tudo é e não é... Quase todo mais grave criminoso feroz, sempre é muito bom marido, bom filho, bom pai, e é bom amigo-de-seus-amigos! Sei desses. Só que tem os depois – e Deus, junto. Vi muitas nuvens. Mas, em verdade, filho, também, abranda. Olhe: um chamado Aleixo, residente a légua do Passo do Pubo, no da-Areia, era o homem de maiores ruindades calmas que já se viu. Me agradou que perto da casa dele tinha um açudinho, entre as palmeiras, com traíras, pra-almas de enormes, desenormes, ao real, que receberam fama; o Aleixo dava de comer a elas, em horas justas, elas se acostumaram a se assim das locas, para papar, semelhavam ser peixes ensinados. Um dia, só por graça rústica, ele matou um velhinho que por lá passou, desvalido rogando esmola. O senhor não duvide – tem gente, neste aborrecido mundo, que matam só para ver alguém fazer careta... Eh, pois, empós, o resto o senhor prove: vem o pão, vem a mão, vem o são, vem o cão. Esse Aleixo era homem afamilhado, tinha filhos pequenos; aqueles eram o amor dele, todo, despropósito. Dê bem, que não nem um ano estava passado, de se matar o velhinho pobre, e os meninos do Aleixo aí adoeceram. Andaço de sarampão, se disse, mas complicado; eles nunca saravam. Quando, então, sararam. Mas os olhos deles vermelhavam altos, numa inflama de sapiranga à rebelde; e susseguinte – o que não sei é se foram todos duma vez, ou um logo e logo outro e outro – eles restaram cegos. Cegos, sem remissão dum favinho de luz dessa nossa! O senhor imagine: uma escadinha – três meninos e uma menina – todos cegados. Sem remediável. O Aleixo não perdeu o juizo; mas mudou: ah, demudou completo – agora vive da banda de Deus, suando para ser bom e caridoso em todas suas horas da noite e do dia. Parece até que ficou o feliz, que antes não era. Ele mesmo diz que foi um homem de sorte, porque Deus quis ter pena dele, transformar para lá o rumo de sua alma. Isso eu ouvi, e me deu raiva. Razão das crianças. Se sendo castigo, que culpa das hajas do Aleixo aqueles meninozinhos tinham?! Compadre meu Quelemém reprovou minhas incertezas. Que, por certo, noutra vida revirada, os meninos também tinham sido os mais malvados, da massa e peça do pai, demônios do mesmo caldeirão de lugar. Senhor o que acha? E o velhinho assassinado? – eu sei que o senhor vai discutir. Pois, também. Em ordem que ele tinha um pecado de crime, no corpo, por pagar. Se a gente – conforme compadre meu Quelemém é quem diz – se a gente torna a encarnar renovado, eu cismo até que inimigo de morte pode vir como filho do inimigo. Mire veja: se me digo, tem um sujeito Pedro Pindó, vizinho daqui mais seis léguas, homem de bem por tudo em tudo, ele e a mulher dele, sempre sidos bons, de bem. Eles têm um filho duns dez anos, chamado Valtei – nome moderno, é o que o povo daqui agora apreceia, o senhor sabe. Pois essezinho, essezim, desde que algum entendimento alumiou nele, feito mostrou o que é: pedido madrasto, azedo queimador, gostoso de ruim de dentro do fundo das espécies de sua natureza. Em qual que judia, ao devagar, de todo bicho ou criaçãozinha pequena que pega; uma vez, encontrou uma crioula bentabêbada dormindo, arranjou um caco de garrafa, lanhou em três pontos a popa da perna dela. O que esse menino babeja vendo, é sangrarem galinha ou esfaquear porco. – “Eu gosto de matar...” – uma ocasião ele pequenino me disse. Abriu em mim um susto; porque: passarinho que se debruça – o vôo já está pronto! Pois, o senhor vigie: o pai, Pedro Pindó, modo de corrigir isso, e a mãe, dão nele, de miséria e mastro – botam o menino sem comer, amarram em árvores no terreiro, ele nu nuelo, mesmo em junho frio, lavram o corpinho dele na peia e na taca, depois limpam a pele do sangue, com cuia de salmoura. A gente sabe, espia, fica gasturado. O menino já rebaixou de magreza, os olhos entrando, carinha de ossos, encaveirada, e entisicou, o tempo todo tosse, tossura da que puxa secos peitos. Arre, que agora, visível, o Pindó e a mulher se habituaram de nele bater, de pouquinho em pouquim foram criando nisso um prazer feio de diversão – como regulam as sovas em horas certas confortáveis, até chamam gente para ver o exemplo bom. Acho que esse menino não dura, já está no blimbilim, não chega para a quaresma que vem... Uê-uê, então?!Não sendo como compadre meu Quelemém quer, que explicação é que o senhor dava? Aquele menino tinha sido homem. Devia, em balanço, terríveis perversidades. Alma dele estava no breu. Mostrava. E, agora, pagava. Ah, mas, acontece, quando está chorando e penando, ele sofre igual que se fosse um menino bonzinho... Ave, vi de tudo, neste mundo! lá vi até cavalo com soluço... – o que é a coisa mais custosa que há. Bem, mas o senhor dirá, deve de: e no começo – para pecados e artes, as pessoas – como por que foi que tanto emendado se começou? Ei, ei, aí todos esbarram. Compadre meu Quelemém, também. Sou só um sertanejo, nessas altas idéias navego mal. Sou muito pobre coitado. Inveja minha pura é de uns conforme o senhor, com toda leitura e suma doutoração. Não é que eu esteja analfabeto. Soletrei, anos e meio, meante cartilha, memória e palmatória. Tive mestre, Mestre Lucas, no Curralinho, decorei gramática, as operações, regra-de-três, até geografia e estudo pátrio. Em folhas grandes de papel, com capricho tracei bonitos mapas. Ah, não é por falar: mas, desde o começo, me achavam sofismado de ladino. E que eu merecia de ir para cursar latim, em Aula Régia – que também diziam. Tempo saudoso! Inda hoje, apreceio um bom livro, despaçado. Na fazenda O Limãozinho, de um meu amigo Vito Soziano, se assina desse almanaque grosso, de logogrifos e charadas e outras divididas matérias, todo ano vem. Em tanto, ponho primazia é na leitura proveitosa, vida de santo, virtudes e exemplos – missionário esperto engambelando os índios, ou São Francisco de Assis, Santo Antônio, São Geraldo... Eu gosto muito de moral. Raciocinar, exortar os outros para o bom caminho, aconselhar a justo. Minha mulher, que o senhor sabe, zela por mim: muito reza. Ela é uma abençoável. Compadre meu Quelemém sempre diz que eu posso aquietar meu temer de consciência, que sendo bem-assistido, terríveis bons-espíritos me protegem. Ipe! Com gosto... Como é de são efeito, ajudo com meu querer acreditar. Mas nem sempre posso. O senhor saiba: eu toda a minha vida pensei por mim, forro, sou nascido diferente. Eu sou é eu mesmo. Diverjo de todo o mundo... Eu quase que nada não sei. Mas desconfio de muita coisa. O senhor concedendo, eu digo: para pensar longe, sou cão mestre – o senhor solte em minha frente uma idéia ligeira, e eu rastreio essa por fundo de todos os matos, amém! Olhe: o que devia de haver, era de se reunirem-se os sábios, políticos, constituições gradas, fecharem o definitivo a noção – proclamar por uma vez, artes assembléias, que não tem diabo nenhum, não existe, não pode. Valor de lei! Só assim, davam tranqüilidade boa à gente. Por que o Governo não cuida?! Ah, eu sei que não é possível. Não me assente o senhor por beócio. Uma coisa é pôr idéias arranjadas, outra é lidar com país de pessoas, de carne e sangue, de mil-e-tantas misérias... Tanta gente – dá susto de saber – e nenhum se sossega: todos nascendo, crescendo, se casando, querendo colocação de emprego, comida, saúde, riqueza, ser importante, querendo chuva e negócios bons... De sorte que carece de se escolher: ou a gente se tece de viver no safado comum, ou cuida só de religião só. Eu podia ser: padre sacerdote, se não chefe de jagunços; para outras coisas não fui parido. Mas minha velhice já principiou, errei de toda conta. E o reumatismo... Lá como quem diz: nas escorvas. Ahã. Hem? Hem? O que mais penso, testo e explico: todo-omundo é louco. O senhor, eu, nós, as pessoas todas. Por isso é que se carece principalmente de religião: para se desendoidecer, desdoidar. Reza é que sara da loucura. No geral. Isso é que é a salvaçãoda- alma... Muita religião, seu moço! Eu cá, não perco ocasião de religião. Aproveito de todas. Bebo água de todo rio... Uma só, para mim é pouca, talvez não me chegue. Rezo cristão, católico, embrenho a certo; e aceito as preces de compadre meu Quelemém, doutrina dele, de Cardéque. Mas, quando posso, vou no Mindubim, onde um Matias é crente, metodista: a gente se acusa de pecador, lê alto a Bíblia, e ora, cantando hinos belos deles. Tudo me quieta, me suspende. Qualquer sombrinha me refresca. Mas é só muito provisório. Eu queria rezar – o tempo todo. Muita gente não me aprova, acham que lei de Deus é privilégios, invariável. E eu! Bofe! Detesto! O que sou? – o que faço, que quero, muito curial. E em cara de todos faço, executado. Eu não tresmalho! Olhe: tem uma preta, Maria Leôncia, longe daqui não mora, as rezas dela afamam muita virtude de poder. Pois a ela pago, todo mês – encomenda de rezar por mim um terço, todo santo dia, e, nos domingos, um rosário. Vale, se vale. Minha mulher não vê mal nisso. E estou, já mandei recado para uma outra, do Vau-Vau, uma Izina Calanga, para vir aqui, ouvi de que reza também com grandes meremerências, vou efetuar com ela trato igual. Quero punhado dessas, me defendendo em Deus, reunidas de mim em volta... Chagas de Cristo! Viver é muito perigoso... Querer o bem com demais força, de incerto jeito, pode já estar sendo se querendo o mal, por principiar. Esses homens! Todos puxavam o mundo para si, para o concertar consertado. Mas cada um só vê e entende as coisas dum seu modo. Montante, o mais supro, mais sério – foi Medeiro Vaz. Que um homem antigo... Seu Joãozinho Bem-Bem, o mais bravo de todos, ninguém nunca pôde decifrar como ele por dentro consistia. Joca Ramiro – grande homem príncipe! – era político. Zé- Bebelo quis ser político. (shrink)

This article examines Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector’s contributions to the women’s pages of the newspapers Correio da Manhã and Diário da Noite between 1959 and 1961. While Lispector’s fictional output has spawned a steady flow of scholarly and academic studies from a wide array of disciplines and fields of study, her journalistic production, in particular the women’s pages she crafted under a pseudonym, has hardly received any critical attention. The “women’s page” is a fixed section in magazines and newspapers entirely (...) dedicated to women, addressed specifically to a female readership, and generally authored by a woman or a female persona. The purpose of this article is to redress this critical oversight and complement the only study so far of this corpus – Aparecida Maria Nunes’s Clarice Lispector Jornalista – by arguing that, in Lispector’s hands, these pages become spaces of potential cultural and political intervention. Through their nuanced parody of other comparable discursive spaces and their overemphasis on what is culturally constructed as feminine, Lispector’s pages perform a transvestite gesture that unsettles normative models of femininity and dislodges a heteronormative temporality predicated upon birth, marriage, reproduction, and death. (shrink)