Questões: Faculdade Cásper Líbero — com gabarito

The Brazilian Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis is, to English-language readers, perhaps the most obscure of world literature’s great short-story writers. Producing work between 1869 and 1908, Machado wrote nine novels and more than 200 hundred stories, more than 60 of the latter appearing after 1880. This date marks the point at which Machado metamorphosed from a writer of romantic trifles into a master of psychological realism, seemingly overnight. The Brazilian poet and critic Augusto Meyer compared the shift to the one between Herman Melville’s earlier works and Moby-Dick.

The evolutionary leap is unquestionable, although the precise reasons for it are unclear. Indeed, many uncertainties surround the biography of Machado, who was an intensely private person. Perhaps it’s no surprise that such a man should create a body of work that prizes the puzzle above the certainty. Meyer called ambiguity Machado’s most prominent theme and the translators Jake Schmitt and Lorie Ishimatsu agree, seeing it as being “in part the result of his subjective, relativistic world view, in which truth and reality, which are never absolutes, can only be approximated; no character relationships are stable, no issues are clear-cut, and the nature of everything is tenuous.” Machado writes with pleasurable clarity – he worked as a journalist for a time – but the straightforwardness of his stories is a camouflage for less obvious, more troubling cargo.

(...)

Machado’s most recent English translator, John Gledson, says the difficulty of translating him is capturing the right balance of distance, understanding and sympathy. Trapdoors to the unexpected open constantly in his work, from the sadism of “The Hidden Cause”, or the bleak violence of “Father versus Mother”, to the subtle play of what Michael Wood terms his “quiet, complicated humour”. Reading him prompts thoughts of so many different writers that he can only be unique. Poe’s chilling shadow falls across “The Hidden Cause” and “The Fortune-Teller”. “The Alienist” glitters with Swiftian satire. Machado’s shrewd, even devious work with the point of view of his narrators positions him alongside Henry James. Numerous stories anticipate the moral ambiguity of Chekhov’s mature work, in particular “A Singular Occurrence”. Machado’s literary mapping of Rio reaches back to the St Petersburg of Gogol and Dostoevsky, and anticipates the Dublin of Joyce. Finally, some of his more obviously strange works (nearly all of it is strange to some degree, which is part of its brilliance) evoke Borges and Kafka. Given all this, it’s little wonder that writer and critic Kevin Jackson would feel confident enough to claim that Machado “invented literary modernity, sui generis”.

(...)

At its most pessimistic, as at the conclusion of “Dona Paula”, all pleasure lies in a past that proves impossible to meaningfully access.

This conception of a hollow, unreal present tied to a genuine but obliterated past finds a binary in Machado’s interest in the duality of the self, and the exploration of characters whose outer and inner personae differ radically. In “The Diplomat” this idea is expressed through the description of a man’s unexpressed passion for a friend’s daughter. In “A Famous Man” a hugely successful composer of polkas is wracked by his inability to compose ‘serious’ music. But it is in an earlier treatment of this theme, 1882’s “The Mirror”, that Machado captures the phenomenon most memorably. Alone in a desolate plantation house, Jacobina, a sub-lieutenant in the National Guard, finds his reflection growing dimmer and less distinct. The only way to bring it back into focus, and thus cling to reality, is to spend a period several hours each day standing before the mirror in his uniform. Jacobina steps out of this strange, haunting story to take his place alongside Chekhov’s Dmitri Gurov and Joyce’s Gabriel Conroy, men whose fatally divided selves leave them trapped in a limbo between their public and private personae. Just as the characters belong together, so do their creators; writing about Machado in 2002 Michael Wood complained, “Everyone who reads him thinks he is a master, but who reads him, and who has heard of him?” Not nearly so many as he deserves.

Source:POWER, Chris,The Guardian, Books Blog, Posted by Chris Power on Friday 1 March 2013 15.28 GMT http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2013/mar/01/survey-short-story-machado (Adapted) Access November, 2014

The Brazilian Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis is, to English-language readers, perhaps the most obscure of world literature’s great short-story writers. Producing work between 1869 and 1908, Machado wrote nine novels and more than 200 hundred stories, more than 60 of the latter appearing after 1880. This date marks the point at which Machado metamorphosed from a writer of romantic trifles into a master of psychological realism, seemingly overnight. The Brazilian poet and critic Augusto Meyer compared the shift to the one between Herman Melville’s earlier works and Moby-Dick.

The evolutionary leap is unquestionable, although the precise reasons for it are unclear. Indeed, many uncertainties surround the biography of Machado, who was an intensely private person. Perhaps it’s no surprise that such a man should create a body of work that prizes the puzzle above the certainty. Meyer called ambiguity Machado’s most prominent theme and the translators Jake Schmitt and Lorie Ishimatsu agree, seeing it as being “in part the result of his subjective, relativistic world view, in which truth and reality, which are never absolutes, can only be approximated; no character relationships are stable, no issues are clear-cut, and the nature of everything is tenuous.” Machado writes with pleasurable clarity – he worked as a journalist for a time – but the straightforwardness of his stories is a camouflage for less obvious, more troubling cargo.

(...)

Machado’s most recent English translator, John Gledson, says the difficulty of translating him is capturing the right balance of distance, understanding and sympathy. Trapdoors to the unexpected open constantly in his work, from the sadism of “The Hidden Cause”, or the bleak violence of “Father versus Mother”, to the subtle play of what Michael Wood terms his “quiet, complicated humour”. Reading him prompts thoughts of so many different writers that he can only be unique. Poe’s chilling shadow falls across “The Hidden Cause” and “The Fortune-Teller”. “The Alienist” glitters with Swiftian satire. Machado’s shrewd, even devious work with the point of view of his narrators positions him alongside Henry James. Numerous stories anticipate the moral ambiguity of Chekhov’s mature work, in particular “A Singular Occurrence”. Machado’s literary mapping of Rio reaches back to the St Petersburg of Gogol and Dostoevsky, and anticipates the Dublin of Joyce. Finally, some of his more obviously strange works (nearly all of it is strange to some degree, which is part of its brilliance) evoke Borges and Kafka. Given all this, it’s little wonder that writer and critic Kevin Jackson would feel confident enough to claim that Machado “invented literary modernity, sui generis”.

(...)

At its most pessimistic, as at the conclusion of “Dona Paula”, all pleasure lies in a past that proves impossible to meaningfully access.

This conception of a hollow, unreal present tied to a genuine but obliterated past finds a binary in Machado’s interest in the duality of the self, and the exploration of characters whose outer and inner personae differ radically. In “The Diplomat” this idea is expressed through the description of a man’s unexpressed passion for a friend’s daughter. In “A Famous Man” a hugely successful composer of polkas is wracked by his inability to compose ‘serious’ music. But it is in an earlier treatment of this theme, 1882’s “The Mirror”, that Machado captures the phenomenon most memorably. Alone in a desolate plantation house, Jacobina, a sub-lieutenant in the National Guard, finds his reflection growing dimmer and less distinct. The only way to bring it back into focus, and thus cling to reality, is to spend a period several hours each day standing before the mirror in his uniform. Jacobina steps out of this strange, haunting story to take his place alongside Chekhov’s Dmitri Gurov and Joyce’s Gabriel Conroy, men whose fatally divided selves leave them trapped in a limbo between their public and private personae. Just as the characters belong together, so do their creators; writing about Machado in 2002 Michael Wood complained, “Everyone who reads him thinks he is a master, but who reads him, and who has heard of him?” Not nearly so many as he deserves.

Source:POWER, Chris,The Guardian, Books Blog, Posted by Chris Power on Friday 1 March 2013 15.28 GMT http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2013/mar/01/survey-short-story-machado (Adapted) Access November, 2014

A schematic summary would say as follows: At a founding time, romantic fiction saw the peculiarities of the Brazilian family life under the picturesque and the national identity signs, over which it laid some more or less feuilletonist fabling. The combination, in line with the needs of the young country, was very successful. Although irreverent, the emphasis on mirroring and its somewhat regressive accomplice character formed a positive sign on our particular traits. One generation later, Machado used in a different manner the same thematic, ideological, and aesthetic complexity, this time without the covering mists of local color and patriotic self-congratulation. The large Brazilian family was now observed from the point of view of the enlightened dependent, who was part of it and transformed it into a problem. This is a special system of relationships, with its own structure, resources and problems, which needed to be analyzed. Its difference was a sign of primitiveness, because the tacit measure of the dependent was the Rights of Man, which were effective, in principle, in other regions. The narrator’s fondness shifted to the heroine’s struggles against injustice, which was also portrayed in a feuilletonist fashion. As for the opposing side, it was inevitable that the conflict arrangement, as it developed from book to book, made more visible the negative traits of the landowner. These traits absorbed and reflected precisely, as a fault, the absurd lack of balance between the classes. Using the consequences of this very lack of balance, which gave no signs of internal regeneration, Machado invented the formula that would characterize his mature works and make him a great writer. He did not surrender to the easy delights of romantic picturesqueness. Likewise, he now renounced the unanimous fondness towards the moderate narrator and his good causes.

The new artistic device dealt indirectly with dependents’ frustrations and directly with their abandonment by landowners – the peripheral society incapable of integration resonated. The scope of the formal arrangement, which challenged the secular spirit’s superstitions, especially the trust in progress and in benevolence, is uncomfortable to this day. The insinuating personification of an elite narrator enviably civilized and deeply involved in oppressive relationships, which he arranges and judges himself, is a chess move that disarranges the narrative board, making the game more real. The process challenges readers in every line: it teaches them to think by themselves; to discuss not only the issues, but also their presentation; to consider the narrators and authorities – always the interested party – from a distance, even if they are eloquent; to doubt the civilizing and national commitment of the privileged, particularly in young countries, where this intention plays a major role; to feel an aversion to the imaginary consolations of romanticism, manipulated by the narrative authority to its own benefit. The process teaches, above all, that the combination of the cosmopolitan and the excluded spheres may be stable, without a feasible solution. This demonstration is a juicy one because it illustrates and examines the nation’s “delicious” mechanisms – to use the Machadian term – of the non-bourgeois reproduction of the bourgeois order. However, the demonstration is also universal to some extent, because globally, unlike what it seems, this reproduction is the rule, not the exception.

The heroines of the first novels are not very interesting because their precarious social status is distorted by the romantic cliché. Their vicissitudes, however, stress the antagonistic class traits, whose figure has literary originality. In the novels of the second phase, once the angle is inverted, it is the poor who appear in the subjective mirror of owners, where the prisms are either that of bourgeois individualism or of paternalistic domination, according to the selfish convenience impudence. The dependent becomes extraordinarily relevant in that light. They are portraits of the powerless that get no recognition for the value of work, no rights protected, and no compensation by divine providence. It is the social vacuum generated by modern slavery to freedom without possessions, another issue that, mutatis mutandis, lives on.

In the same line of advanced resonance of the primitiveness, notice how the extra bourgeois aspect of local issues works, and also the narrative relationship itself: at times it is only a shift in the rule; at times it is a movement in its own right, which escapes the dominating definitions and discovers unknown land. To give an idea, compare the part of authority in the definition and dissolution of characters, themselves or others; the relationships between personal separation and the experience of time, between command and insanity – often by the ones in charge; the extra scientific dimensions of science, with its authoritarian and sadistic roles; the overall difference that generates a point of view, etc. In this manner, Machadian fiction and the advanced literature of his time converged – both tried to release other realities under the bourgeois reality. As a mere indication, it is worth mentioning a few similarities, rather at random, in the innovative field, such as Dostoievski, Baudelaire, Henry James, Tchekov, Proust, Kafka, and Borges. Machado’s classical derivations are countless and have led critics to find his merit there, which hinders the understanding of the up-todateness and advanced character of his experimentation. 

A schematic summary would say as follows: At a founding time, romantic fiction saw the peculiarities of the Brazilian family life under the picturesque and the national identity signs, over which it laid some more or less feuilletonist fabling. The combination, in line with the needs of the young country, was very successful. Although irreverent, the emphasis on mirroring and its somewhat regressive accomplice character formed a positive sign on our particular traits. One generation later, Machado used in a different manner the same thematic, ideological, and aesthetic complexity, this time without the covering mists of local color and patriotic self-congratulation. The large Brazilian family was now observed from the point of view of the enlightened dependent, who was part of it and transformed it into a problem. This is a special system of relationships, with its own structure, resources and problems, which needed to be analyzed. Its difference was a sign of primitiveness, because the tacit measure of the dependent was the Rights of Man, which were effective, in principle, in other regions. The narrator’s fondness shifted to the heroine’s struggles against injustice, which was also portrayed in a feuilletonist fashion. As for the opposing side, it was inevitable that the conflict arrangement, as it developed from book to book, made more visible the negative traits of the landowner. These traits absorbed and reflected precisely, as a fault, the absurd lack of balance between the classes. Using the consequences of this very lack of balance, which gave no signs of internal regeneration, Machado invented the formula that would characterize his mature works and make him a great writer. He did not surrender to the easy delights of romantic picturesqueness. Likewise, he now renounced the unanimous fondness towards the moderate narrator and his good causes.

The new artistic device dealt indirectly with dependents’ frustrations and directly with their abandonment by landowners – the peripheral society incapable of integration resonated. The scope of the formal arrangement, which challenged the secular spirit’s superstitions, especially the trust in progress and in benevolence, is uncomfortable to this day. The insinuating personification of an elite narrator enviably civilized and deeply involved in oppressive relationships, which he arranges and judges himself, is a chess move that disarranges the narrative board, making the game more real. The process challenges readers in every line: it teaches them to think by themselves; to discuss not only the issues, but also their presentation; to consider the narrators and authorities – always the interested party – from a distance, even if they are eloquent; to doubt the civilizing and national commitment of the privileged, particularly in young countries, where this intention plays a major role; to feel an aversion to the imaginary consolations of romanticism, manipulated by the narrative authority to its own benefit. The process teaches, above all, that the combination of the cosmopolitan and the excluded spheres may be stable, without a feasible solution. This demonstration is a juicy one because it illustrates and examines the nation’s “delicious” mechanisms – to use the Machadian term – of the non-bourgeois reproduction of the bourgeois order. However, the demonstration is also universal to some extent, because globally, unlike what it seems, this reproduction is the rule, not the exception.

The heroines of the first novels are not very interesting because their precarious social status is distorted by the romantic cliché. Their vicissitudes, however, stress the antagonistic class traits, whose figure has literary originality. In the novels of the second phase, once the angle is inverted, it is the poor who appear in the subjective mirror of owners, where the prisms are either that of bourgeois individualism or of paternalistic domination, according to the selfish convenience impudence. The dependent becomes extraordinarily relevant in that light. They are portraits of the powerless that get no recognition for the value of work, no rights protected, and no compensation by divine providence. It is the social vacuum generated by modern slavery to freedom without possessions, another issue that, mutatis mutandis, lives on.

In the same line of advanced resonance of the primitiveness, notice how the extra bourgeois aspect of local issues works, and also the narrative relationship itself: at times it is only a shift in the rule; at times it is a movement in its own right, which escapes the dominating definitions and discovers unknown land. To give an idea, compare the part of authority in the definition and dissolution of characters, themselves or others; the relationships between personal separation and the experience of time, between command and insanity – often by the ones in charge; the extra scientific dimensions of science, with its authoritarian and sadistic roles; the overall difference that generates a point of view, etc. In this manner, Machadian fiction and the advanced literature of his time converged – both tried to release other realities under the bourgeois reality. As a mere indication, it is worth mentioning a few similarities, rather at random, in the innovative field, such as Dostoievski, Baudelaire, Henry James, Tchekov, Proust, Kafka, and Borges. Machado’s classical derivations are countless and have led critics to find his merit there, which hinders the understanding of the up-todateness and advanced character of his experimentation. 

A schematic summary would say as follows: At a founding time, romantic fiction saw the peculiarities of the Brazilian family life under the picturesque and the national identity signs, over which it laid some more or less feuilletonist fabling. The combination, in line with the needs of the young country, was very successful. Although irreverent, the emphasis on mirroring and its somewhat regressive accomplice character formed a positive sign on our particular traits. One generation later, Machado used in a different manner the same thematic, ideological, and aesthetic complexity, this time without the covering mists of local color and patriotic self-congratulation. The large Brazilian family was now observed from the point of view of the enlightened dependent, who was part of it and transformed it into a problem. This is a special system of relationships, with its own structure, resources and problems, which needed to be analyzed. Its difference was a sign of primitiveness, because the tacit measure of the dependent was the Rights of Man, which were effective, in principle, in other regions. The narrator’s fondness shifted to the heroine’s struggles against injustice, which was also portrayed in a feuilletonist fashion. As for the opposing side, it was inevitable that the conflict arrangement, as it developed from book to book, made more visible the negative traits of the landowner. These traits absorbed and reflected precisely, as a fault, the absurd lack of balance between the classes. Using the consequences of this very lack of balance, which gave no signs of internal regeneration, Machado invented the formula that would characterize his mature works and make him a great writer. He did not surrender to the easy delights of romantic picturesqueness. Likewise, he now renounced the unanimous fondness towards the moderate narrator and his good causes.

The new artistic device dealt indirectly with dependents’ frustrations and directly with their abandonment by landowners – the peripheral society incapable of integration resonated. The scope of the formal arrangement, which challenged the secular spirit’s superstitions, especially the trust in progress and in benevolence, is uncomfortable to this day. The insinuating personification of an elite narrator enviably civilized and deeply involved in oppressive relationships, which he arranges and judges himself, is a chess move that disarranges the narrative board, making the game more real. The process challenges readers in every line: it teaches them to think by themselves; to discuss not only the issues, but also their presentation; to consider the narrators and authorities – always the interested party – from a distance, even if they are eloquent; to doubt the civilizing and national commitment of the privileged, particularly in young countries, where this intention plays a major role; to feel an aversion to the imaginary consolations of romanticism, manipulated by the narrative authority to its own benefit. The process teaches, above all, that the combination of the cosmopolitan and the excluded spheres may be stable, without a feasible solution. This demonstration is a juicy one because it illustrates and examines the nation’s “delicious” mechanisms – to use the Machadian term – of the non-bourgeois reproduction of the bourgeois order. However, the demonstration is also universal to some extent, because globally, unlike what it seems, this reproduction is the rule, not the exception.

The heroines of the first novels are not very interesting because their precarious social status is distorted by the romantic cliché. Their vicissitudes, however, stress the antagonistic class traits, whose figure has literary originality. In the novels of the second phase, once the angle is inverted, it is the poor who appear in the subjective mirror of owners, where the prisms are either that of bourgeois individualism or of paternalistic domination, according to the selfish convenience impudence. The dependent becomes extraordinarily relevant in that light. They are portraits of the powerless that get no recognition for the value of work, no rights protected, and no compensation by divine providence. It is the social vacuum generated by modern slavery to freedom without possessions, another issue that, mutatis mutandis, lives on.

In the same line of advanced resonance of the primitiveness, notice how the extra bourgeois aspect of local issues works, and also the narrative relationship itself: at times it is only a shift in the rule; at times it is a movement in its own right, which escapes the dominating definitions and discovers unknown land. To give an idea, compare the part of authority in the definition and dissolution of characters, themselves or others; the relationships between personal separation and the experience of time, between command and insanity – often by the ones in charge; the extra scientific dimensions of science, with its authoritarian and sadistic roles; the overall difference that generates a point of view, etc. In this manner, Machadian fiction and the advanced literature of his time converged – both tried to release other realities under the bourgeois reality. As a mere indication, it is worth mentioning a few similarities, rather at random, in the innovative field, such as Dostoievski, Baudelaire, Henry James, Tchekov, Proust, Kafka, and Borges. Machado’s classical derivations are countless and have led critics to find his merit there, which hinders the understanding of the up-todateness and advanced character of his experimentation. 

    A Independência (que tem seu ponto de partida na transferência da corte portuguesa em 1808) assinala a estruturação do Estado Brasileiro, o que determina, com a configuração da nova individualidade nacional que o Brasil passava a apresentar, a grande e variada série de consequências que derivam da inclusão no próprio país e sobre a base exclusiva de nacionais, do seu centro político, administrativo e social. A inspiração, orientação e direção do conjunto da vida brasileira se farão daí por diante a partir de seu próprio interior onde se localizarão seus estímulos e impulsos, o que torna possível definir, propor e realizar as aspirações e interesses propriamente nacionais. Do ponto de vista estritamente econômico, destaquemos unicamente o que a estruturação do Estado nacional representaria como fator de ampliação das despesas públicas, com reflexo imediato nas particulares; e portanto de ativação de vida econômica e financeira, aumento da renda nacional e do consumo que isso representa. O efeito conjugado desses fatores resultará, em consequência da brusca transformação ocorrida, no profundo desequilíbrio financeiro e nas crises que caracterizam a vida do Império até meados do século. E constitui circunstância que influi poderosamente no sentido de estimular a integração nacional da economia brasileira. Isso será tanto mais sensível e de efeitos mais amplos, que acresce um fator de ordem político-administrativa a atuar no mesmo sentido. Até a Independência, as capitanias brasileiras, depois províncias e hoje Estados, se achavam dispersas e cada qual muito mais ligada à metrópole portuguesa que às demais. A administração sediada no Rio de Janeiro era de fato, no que respeita ao conjunto da colônia, puramente nominal, e sua jurisdição não ia realmente além da intitulada capital e sede do Vice-reinado e das capitanias meridionais. A transferência da corte torna o Rio de Janeiro efetivamente em centro e capital do país que se articulará assim num todo único. Essa situação se consolidará com a efetivação da Independência e a formação do Estado nacional brasileiro, que constituem assim a definitiva integração territorial do país antes disperso e interligado unicamente através e por via da metrópole.

    De maior proporção ainda, no que respeita à transformação da antiga colônia em coletividade nacional integrada e organizada, são estes primeiros passos decisivos da incorporação efetiva da massa trabalhadora à sociedade brasileira que consistem na supressão do tráfico africano (1850) e seus corolários naturais: o estímulo à imigração europeia de trabalhadores destinados a suprir a falta de mão-de-obra provocada pela supressão daquele tráfico, e a abolição da escravidão (1888). (Caio Prado Júnior. A revolução brasileira.) 

By Peter Kornbluh

“For the better part of two years, a group of editors, journalism students, and human rights lawyers in Santiago, Chile, have been gathering evidence against their country’s leading media mogul, Agustín Edwards, to, at minimum, have him expelled from the press guild, the Academy of Chilean Journalists. The editor of the leftist magazine Puncto Final, Manuel Cabieses, has filed a formal petition accusing Edwards of violating the academy’s code of ethics by conspiring with the Nixon White House and the CIA between 1970 and 1973 to foment the military coup that overthrew the elected government of Salvador Allende and brought General Augusto Pinochet to power, thirty years ago this month. ‘Doonie’, as Edwards is known to his closest friends, is the patriarch of the press – a Chilean Rupert Murdoch. His media empire encompasses Chile’s renowned national newspaper, El Mercurio, a second national paper, Ultimas Noticias, and Santiago’s leading afternoon paper, La Segunda, along with a dozen smaller regional journals. In September 1970, when Chileans narrowly elected Allende, a Socialist, to the presidency, Edwards was widely considered to be the richest man in Chile – and the individual with the most to lose financially from Allende’s election.

The ethics charges against Edwards are likely to receive a boost from a careful analysis of formerly secret U.S. documents that shed considerable new light on CIA covert media operations in Chile. Since 1975, when a special congressional committee chaired by Idaho Senator Frank Church issued its report, Covert Action in Chile: 1963-1973, it has been no secret that the CIA provided significant funding to El Mercurio, put reporters and editors on its payroll, and used the paper, in the committee’s words, as ‘the most important channel for anti-Allende propaganda.’ But with the declassification of thousands of CIA and White House records at the end of Clinton administration, the history of the ‘El Mercurio Project’ emerges in far greater detail. Among the key revelations in the documents:

• Even before Allende was inaugurated as president of Chile, Edwards came to Washington and discussed with the CIA the ‘timing for possible military action’ to prevent Allende from taking office. • President Nixon directly authorized massive funding in the newspaper. The White House approve close to $2 million dollars – a significant sum when turned into Chilean currency on the black market.

• Secret CIA cables from mid-1973 identified El Mercurio as among the ‘most militant parts of the opposition’ pushing for military intervention to overthrow Allende.

• In the aftermath of the coup, the CIA continued to covertly finance media operations in order to influence Chilean public opinion in favor of the new military regime, despite General Pinochet’s brutal repression.”

From: KORNBLUH, Peter. “The El Mercurio File”. Columbia Journalism Review. New York, p.14-15, September/October 2007.