This essay explores figurations of death in Lispector’s The Passion According to G.H. and Água Viva. As the other side of life, death in these novels is tied to the work of the unconscious desire that introduces generative rupture to the narrators’ experience of being, thinking, and writing. In making one wander at the limits of thought, language, and being, death also signals the encounter with femininity which leads to the disintegration of the human montage. While in Água Viva the (...) encounter with death unfolds through the instant – as the fleeting yet irreducible nowness – in The Passion it manifests through a gustatory and aural encounter with the mute cockroach and the absent maid’s mural. Along the way, the essay explores the specific savoir coming from death in Lispector’s novels alongside the clinic of psychoanalysis, primarily the recent work of the Freudian School of Quebec that has placed special focus on the links between the death drive and the aesthetic experience. I bring Lispector’s novels into conversation with psychoanalysis to propose that Clarice’s writing – just like the psychoanalytic clinic – fundamentally arises from the desire to uphold the unsayable dimension of death whose creative unfolding enables new modes of being, hearing, and thinking in – and with – the world. Indeed, in Clarice’s novels, to be on the side of writing is to be on the side of death that is both the herald of writing and the ravaging reverberation of the force of writing itself. (shrink)

Clarice Lispector’s texts are a peculiar combination of socio-political analysis and cosmological excess. Commentators on her works have explored either of these two dimensions but have not yet brought them into a singular dialogue. I argue that Lispector insists upon an ethical responsibility in her refusal to disregard the microcosm of a “marginal” life even within a cosmos of her own creation. For this reason, her critique is inextricable from these excesses. The displacement of narrative authority in a method of (...) literary production that refuses conquest opens upon an underlying, and not yet “pre-coded,” primordial cosmology characterized by night, incompleteness, and (sensory) impression, rather than self-assertive knowledge. I focus on The Hour of the Star and The Besieged City, two works that illustrate this dynamic, to capture how the interstices of social marginalization is the site from which a cosmo-political vision takes shape. Lispector’s works do not promote supra-territorial community over a privileged nationalist singularity, but rather the vertiginous excess of open possibility. (shrink)

For Clarice Lispector, language is a sacrament on dazzling display in her work, where the celebration of writing and the emergence of a creative consciousness through the act of writing about writing access an immanent experience of grace beyond any historical religious sensibility. In this, she simultaneously accesses the “great potency of potentiality” that is an experience of freedom undoing anything bound up by language. She embraces the failure of language as the “glory of falling,” the useless experience of grace, (...) and of experiencing the gift of having a body beyond whatever words we can place upon it. In the struggle to behold the “it” underneath language, she strives for an impersonal love – a joy – that respects the inviolability of nature, the “Force of what Exists and that is sometimes called God.” If “the absence of the God is an act of religion,” as she claims, the inviolability of nature is that which preserves an experience of immanent grace in our world. Rather than describe the limitless potential of the self, one’s immersion in the joyful failure of language points toward the self in unique and profound ways without offering definitions, instead allowing internal contradictions to condition one’s selfhood. In Lispector’s fiction we thus confront the pure paradox of the self: an internal, singular individual who yet maintains within themselves (hence, its immanence) a plurivocal affirmation of existence itself and a redefining of God. (shrink)

At first glance, Clarice Lispector’s An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures (1969) might read like a regression from her earlier feminist and anti-Hegelian Passion According to G.H. (1964), given the female protagonist Lóri’s deference in large part to the male character Ulisses. I argue in this essay that any suspicion of such a philosophical letdown can be easily dispelled if we attend to Lóri’s attunement to affects and her immersion in them. As will be explicated in this essay, such (...) an affective investment signals, on the one hand, a return to Spinoza’s philosophy, thus suggesting a resistance toward the claim of a Hegelian philosophical system to surpass Spinoza; on the other hand, this investment, which exceeds the parameters of Spinoza’s philosophy as well, allows Lóri to put into practice an affective philosophy that is not only feminist but also nonanthropocentric. (shrink)

This essay explores the place in Clarice Lispector’s literature that seeks to touch a primary ground of the living with a language that exceeds the symbolic in order to read it from an anthropocenic, posthuman, and feminist present. It argues that the story “A menor mulher do mundo” (Laços de família, 1960) takes to an extreme what happens in all of Lispector’s literature at the point that we can find in Macabéa’s character from A hora da estrela (1976), a sort (...) of continuation of the smallest woman in the world. In both – the story and the novel – materiality comes to life and it is associated with a neutral background that goes beyond the difference between the human and the nonhuman, the feminine and the masculine, and that coincides with language, with the word. Both characters are residue and resistance, and operate in the stories in the same way that the word operates in Lispector’s writing. The Deleuzian concept of minor and its continuation on the concept of immanence are therefore read not only as a way to think beyond the species, but also as that which operates by destabilizing the concept of “woman” as a universal. Lispector’s writing, then, allows us to separate contemporary feminisms from an affirmation of the identity of the feminine and the masculine, to take them instead into an order that – regardless of whether embodied in woman – is outside the patriarchal. (shrink)

In her last novella, The Hour of the Star, Lispector makes plain that the brilliance of life – any life whatever – lies in its capacity to endlessly contemplate itself and that as such it is inseparable from its mode of contemplation. As we will suggest in this article, Lispector’s view of life as living contemplation resonates with Giorgio Agamben’s conception of being as potentiality. In the last installment of his Homo Sacer series, The Use of Bodies, Agamben tries to (...) offer an alternative paradigm of life to that of Western biopolitics, whose power operates on its separation of bare life from forms of life. Central to this new ontology is Agamben’s notion of a life as inseparable from its mode or form, as he highlights using a hyphen: form-of-life. By form-of-life, Agamben means that one’s living is never reducible to the biological or economic facts of existence because it essentially concerns itself with its potentialities, its singular modes of being. Life that contemplates itself is a life which simply is without being reducible to its function. In The Hour of the Star, Lispector’s heroine, Macabéa is not simply a figure of bare life as some critics have suggested by reducing her life to her factual circumstances. She is rather a figure whose life is affected by its own sensation of existing – its unborn possibilities. (shrink)

Clarice Lispector puts forth nothing less than a complete philosophy of time in her writings, that is, a cohesive philosophical examination of what time is, of its physics and metaphysics, of how humans and animals perceive time, and even an innovative aesthetic theory in which time is the inspiring force giving rise to literary and artistic creation. Her view of time is unique in the Western philosophical canon, offering original solutions to many of time’s classic difficulties. For Lispector, time is (...) pure actuality. Reality is an unwavering present that never stops being, is fully material, and is ceaselessly attentive to itself. The present, matter, and attention form the unquestionable unit of the real and the core of Lispector’s philosophy of time. Supporting this structure is her inventive metaphysics of time, anchored in her notion of the “fourth dimension of the instant-now,” which is given close attention. (shrink)

This text gives an account of the experience of reading Clarice Lispector’s Água Viva in the form of a brief dialogue with the text. It foregrounds the writing voice’s address of a second person and the attention this address brings to the acts of writing and reading that hold the two pronouns in relation, producing at once an infinite and nonexistent distance from being to being. The dialogue observes Lispector’s insistent return to the formulation “atrás do pensamento,” which has been (...) translated into English as “beyond thought” and can also be translated as “behind-thought” or as the background of thought, in a more spatial sense. Nancy reads the translation into French, where this spatial nuance is preserved, in consultation with Lusophone interlocutors about the specificities of the Portuguese original. The dialogue interrogates the link across this dimension, the recurrence of the pronoun it in the original Portuguese version of Água Viva, and the acts of writing and reading a text that brings awareness to a living, pulsing, ongoing, and escaping instant beyond meaning that is nonetheless the cause of the address in the first place. The dialogue follows the thread of this movement as it slips out behind thought, where Água Viva meets other books attuned to the instant and in which the dialogue’s “I” feels their vitalizing effects. (shrink)

For the past forty years, philosophers and critical theorists around the world have been fascinated by Clarice Lispector’s writing; her work, however, carries its own, unique theoretical dimension,...

This text gives an account of the experience of reading Clarice Lispector’s Água Viva in the form of a brief dialogue with the text. It foregrounds the writing voice’s address of a second person and the attention this address brings to the acts of writing and reading that hold the two pronouns in relation, producing at once an infinite and nonexistent distance from being to being. The dialogue observes Lispector’s insistent return to the formulation “atrás do pensamento,” which has been (...) translated into English as “beyond thought” and can also be translated as “behind-thought” or as the background of thought, in a more spatial sense. Nancy reads the translation into French, where this spatial nuance is preserved, in consultation with Lusophone interlocutors about the specificities of the Portuguese original. The dialogue interrogates the link across this dimension, the recurrence of the pronoun it in the original Portuguese version of Água Viva, and the acts of writing and reading a text that brings awareness to a living, pulsing, ongoing, and escaping instant beyond meaning that is nonetheless the cause of the address in the first place. The dialogue follows the thread of this movement as it slips out behind thought, where Água Viva meets other books attuned to the instant and in which the dialogue’s “I” feels their vitalizing effects. (shrink)

This article presents Clarice Lispector’s view on writing, showing that for her literature is the writing of the act of writing itself. In question is the writing of the act while acting, the is-being of existence. In this sense, Lispector described her writing as the writing of a screaming object, as abstract writing, almost a painting. Following some central passages of different works, the article is an attempt to seize the main traits of what could be called the gerundive act (...) of literature of Clarice Lispector. (shrink)

Clarice Lispector has been studied thoroughly against the backdrop of Western ontology and feminism, but she has not often been read in relation to postcolonial theory and Black studies. Yet, their critique of coloniality and the radicality with which they conceive of a different world, can provide a fitting frame for understanding what is at stake in Lispector’s thought. When put in dialogue with the work of Édouard Glissant and Denise Ferreira da Silva, Lispector makes a key contribution to the (...) reconfiguration of the relation between the subject and the world that can be understood as an attempt to, echoing Sylvia Wynter, “unsettle the coloniality of being.” Where Glissant effectuates “creolization” and Silva a “hacking” of the subject, Lispector attempts to transgress our colonial relation to the world through a reconfiguration of fertility. In our study of The Passion According to G.H., supported by fragments from the Chronicles, we show: (1) how the passion of G.H., is the passion of a specifically colonial subject; (2) how fertility is an essential link between subjectivity and coloniality, ensuring an atavistic chain of filiation and hence the continuation of a colonially dominated world; and (3) how Lispector reconfigures fertility as a possibility of being deeply affected by the world, so much so that the colonial subject perishes and the chain of filiation is disrupted. As a consequence, we argue that Lispector’s project must not primarily be understood as ontological or in search of pre-discursivity, but as concerned with the revolutionary question of dismantling the colonial subject and its world in order to open up a potential of life otherwise. (shrink)

The essay develops a parallax between Lispector and Heidegger with regard to the question of being: being not as an idea or a concept, or as anything substantive, but being in the spatio-temporal sense of being in being, of the event which lets each instant of “in being” take place. Instantiating this proximity, the essay focuses on dis-humanization and the role that openness to nothingness plays in this context. Lispector’s writings, especially Passion, illustrate how what hinders the true humanity of (...) human beings is not barbarity or animality but what she calls “false humanization,” which sets humans apart from all other beings as if separate from life and nature. Heidegger’s critique of humanisms and their machinational approach to things and the world opens a similar perspective on being. Although presented in markedly different tonalities of writing, Lispector’s and Heidegger’s texts concern the “same” of the passion/pathos of being. (shrink)

I teach with water. It’s nothing very remarkable and I myself do not remember how I settled upon water as a most convenient introduction to what I have to teach, which is to say, to learn. Did not everything begin with water? My own beginnings, in any case, would border on the banal, if they did not signify so much about where I live (race and class) and how I teach (tradition, institution, location), the liberties I can responsibly take, or (...) the sheer length to which one might have to go to register and partake of a sense of wonder – and of outrage – on the impossible path toward a collective experience of learning. In this particular instalment, learning with water is very much about recalling what we know, knowing what we do with the knowledge that we have. I teach with water. I start my class by quietly, if ostensibly, depositing in front of the class, or at the center of the seminar table, a bottle of “spring water.” I then invite the students to attend to this classroom instance of the proverbial elephant, though not necessarily true to the desperate manner of the three blind men. (shrink)

Hydrological landscapes played a significant role in the elaboration of Gaston Bachelard’s and Martin Heidegger’s historical epistemologies. More specifically, both philosophers relied on hydroelectric landscapes to explore nonlinear time and profound epistemological shifts in the history of knowledge. The landscapes they invoke are composed of hydroelectric dams, thunderstorms, and related landmarks like mountains, rivers, and lakes. Together, these varied yet connected elements offer rich environmental and conceptual terrains that I revisit to situate human knowledge formation within a much older natural (...) history, and to lay the groundwork for a deep time theory of knowledge. Such theories promote timefulness and geological consciousness by establishing less anthropocentric historical narratives – or what Dipesh Chakrabarty calls “planetary history” – on more suitable epistemological grounds. (shrink)

The paper addresses some rhetorical uses of the figure of water management from the perspective of an affirmative approach to contamination which Derrida saw as constitutive of affirmation itself. Contaminated water and its discontents discussed in the text frequently appears in various kinds of writings as a frightening figure of contamination which simultaneously brings in the figure of water management as a way of controlling the purity of cultural exchanges and transmissions in which, as Caroline Petronius puts it, contagion journeys (...) out of medicine into culture. The paper also addresses water and its management from the perspective of Astrida Neimanis’s liquidizing of the border between the solid and the fluid as a border between the human and the inhuman. This perspective opens up the sphere of mutual contamination of the human and the inhuman and translates posthumanist theoretical positions into spheres of affirmative exchanges managed not by masters, but by Donna Haraway’s companion species whom, or which, we all are. (shrink)

The water’s voice is tetchy, angry even. It is something to do with measurements and enclosures. Or perhaps with humanity in general. The water speaks to no one in particular. A gargling monologue about vastness and death, its exoplanetary itineraries and its chthonic hideaways, its elements and qualities, even its lack of voice. Even so, the water’s voice enters a subaquatic communication with two other bodies, genderless, formless, in constant becoming. These are both human and non-human bodies, their ways of (...) touching require no skin, moving along primordial confluences and elemental conflicts. (shrink)

In this essay, I examine the relationality between life and water in the context of its intercorporeal manifestations. Drawing on key aspects of Merleau-Pontian phenomenology, my concern is to reflect on water’s enfleshment of life and its complex ecologies of intercorporeity. These Merleau-Pontian key aspects, I note, are in close dialogue with a number of Indigenous cosmo-epistemologies that envisage the world as constituted by profound ecologies of intercorporeal relationality. The loci of my analysis are the Sonoran Desert and the lands (...) of the Tohono O’odham people, all situated within the ongoing violent relations of power unleashed by the forces of settler colonialism, including the partitioning of Indigenous nations by the Mexico–US border, the ecological devastation left in the wake of the construction of the Trump border wall and the increasingly fraught situation of undocumented migrants attempting to cross the US border. The bodies of water that I discuss in this essay disclose the cycles of life and death that turn on the presence and absence of water. These cycles are increasingly ensnared in aquapolitical regimes of governmentality that, in settler colonial contexts, unleash lethal effects that kill both bodies of water and the entities that depend on them for life. (shrink)

Water does rather than is. It wets, humidifies, evaporates, crystallizes, permeates, fills, leaks, drips, trickles, softens, hardens, congeals, dilutes, shapes, drills, erodes, corrodes, bonds, dis...

There are not enough mouths to utterAll your fleeting names, O water.– Wisława Szymborska, “Water”Wisława Szymborska’s poetic take on water is driven by a paradox. On the one hand, the poem speaks...

This article pivots around the work of early modern legal scholar Hugo Grotius to consider the political stakes of ontological assessments of the sea and water in the context of Dutch imperialism. It draws on links with land reclamation projects in the Netherlands, while at the same time ties these to urgent questions within contemporary critical water and ocean studies around water, ontology, and race. Suggesting a rethinking of Grotius’s understanding of the ocean as perpetual res nullius – perpetually ownerless (...) property – it destabilizes renditions of Grotius’s free sea as free from ownership. The ocean remains firmly within the orbit of property, the property of mankind, thereby excluding those considered non-human, including racialized, gendered, and more-than-human life forms. Grotius’s mare liberum as perpetual res nullius does not form an exception from territorial, personal, and national conceptualizations of property, but rather preconditions it – preparing the world for its thingification. I examine how this understanding of the ocean and of water has colonized our thinking of the ocean, law, being, and belonging. At the same time, the ocean’s very materiality seems to resist Grotius’s legal narrative. Although Grotius’s conquest of maritime imagination continues to justify global models of capital accumulation, the ocean always already shores up against and spills out of such reductive imaginaries. (shrink)

This essay reflects on the concept of “hydropower” – the corrosive power of seawater to amalgamate Life and Nonlife in the context of migrant deaths in the waters of the Mediterranean. Through a focus on drowned bodies’ dissolution and eventual sedimentation into their deep-sea surroundings, my approach interrelates the order of biopolitical violence enacted by Europe’s restrictive migration policies and the thick time of the geophysical. The degradation of bodies under the influence of hydropower reveals residual ontologies marked by porousness (...) between embodied forms of Life and their geophysical environments, putting significant pressure on the putatively watertight divide between Life and Nonlife in the Anthropocene. Parsed from the lens of residuality, hydropower reveals humans’ full ontological coincidence with matter writ large, their endurance and solubility in geological life forces, but also the necessity to think agency in terms of human/inhuman continuity in excess of biopower’s regimenting forces. Against the attempted biopolitical suppression of a certain form of humanity, the residual dwelling enacted by hydropower champions the inclusion of new constellations of matter in our political thought processes. (shrink)

Bridging feminist new materialism and feminist phenomenology, Astrida Neimanis’s volume, Bodies of Water, discusses water in terms of nurturing maternality based on a figural reservoir of what she terms “amniotics” and “planetary breastmilk” in order to posit this maternality as the material condition of the embodiment of life. In this article I show that this imagery is a construction consistently haunted by figures of anxiety and loss. I do this by first revisiting earlier interventions in deconstruction concerning materiality and feminist (...) theory as follows. First, pointing out a resonance between this figuration of wateriness and Kant’s notion of the dynamic sublime, I turn to Paul de Man’s reading of materiality in the Kantian sublime in order to suggest that Neimanis’s figuration of maternal water is an effect of an aesthetic ideology. Subsequently, I will revisit Diana Fuss’s reading of Irigaray – Neimanis’s main feminist resource – to show that the ontological status of water as maternal is constructed via an Irigarayan distinction between metaphor and metonymy. Finally, in order to show ways in which the maternal materiality of water is haunted by figures of anxiety and loss, I will consult Elissa Marder’s more recent work on the maternal function. (shrink)

The Cochabamba water war in 2000 was the first water war of the twenty-first century. During the mobilizations in Bolivia, a factory workers’ manifesto read: “We don’t want private property nor state property, but self-management and social property.” The social practices of many Cochabambinos and Cochabambinas did not defend water as an object. They supported forms of life in common and a way of practicing democracy in the politics of presence. They recalled traditional usos y costumbres, which have been reconfigured (...) in their encounter with other unprecedented practices, situations, and legal systems. Finally, the water war insurgents aimed to restore another practice of democracy and different property relations. Social property (propiedad social) was born in the social and political context of the water war mobilizations. In this article, I investigate social property as a practice that exceeds the current legal definition of ownership and discloses new legal forms of relationship with water. Methodologically, it is about extracting theory from practice – extracting from concrete social practices new concepts that require thinking about. (shrink)

By bringing queer ecologies to bear on the blue humanities, this essay promotes a queer hydropoetic investigation that attends to the forms, aesthetics, and politics of pools. Pools are sites of aquatic enjoyment, sport, and revelation that have long been understudied within the blue humanities. We ask whether the promises and failures of swimming in these geographies can provide a queer heuristic in which submersion, immersion, and staying afloat subtend coming out, queer eroticism, and queer of color coalitional politics. Our (...) tripartite examination engages the independent film Saved! (2004), the ecosexual documentary Water Makes Us Wet (2019), and the young adult novel and graphic novel adaptation of Gabby Rivera’s Juliet Takes a Breath (2016/2019 and 2020, respectively). Our analysis of pools, as intimate bodies of water that capture media and literature alike, reorients the blue humanities to consider closer proximities and smaller scales of water’s queer potentiality. (shrink)