Imagine being twenty-three and accidentally breaking a whole country's literary tradition. That is basically what happened when Clarice Lispector published Near to the Wild Heart (Perto do Coração Selvagem) in 1943. She wasn't trying to be a revolutionary. Honestly, she was just a law student writing in a rented room, trying to figure out what it felt like to be alive.
When the book hit the shelves in Rio de Janeiro, critics didn't know whether to give her a prize or an exorcism. It was weird. It was "foreign." It sounded like nothing else in Portuguese. One critic, Francisco Assis Barbosa, called her "Hurricane Clarice." People kept asking her if she’d spent years studying James Joyce or Virginia Woolf. Her answer? She hadn't even read them yet.
What Actually Happens in the Book?
Not much. At least, not on the outside.
If you’re looking for a tight plot with a beginning, middle, and an explosion, you’re gonna be disappointed. The story follows Joana. We see her as a child, then as a woman trapped in a pretty miserable marriage to a guy named Otávio. There’s an affair, a death, and eventually, a departure.
But the "plot" is just a skeleton. The real meat of Near to the Wild Heart is what’s happening inside Joana's head. Lispector uses a stream-of-consciousness style that feels less like reading and more like eavesdropping on a soul. Joana isn't exactly "nice." She’s often described as a "viper" or a "cold animal" by the people around her.
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She’s amoral. Not immoral—amoral. She doesn't see things through the lens of "good" and "bad" that her aunt or her husband use. She just sees. She feels the vibration of the air, the coldness of a mirror, the strange "wild heart" of life that the title (a nod to Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man) hints at.
Why Near to the Wild Heart Changed Everything
Before 1943, Brazilian literature was very focused on regionalism and social realism. Writers were obsessed with the "northeast" or the "drought" or "politics." Then Clarice shows up with this introspective, jagged, almost psychedelic book about a woman’s internal landscape.
It shifted the center of gravity.
The Mystery of Clarice Lispector Near to the Wild Heart
One of the biggest misconceptions about this book is that it’s just a "feminine" novel about feelings. That’s a huge mistake. It’s a philosophical interrogation. Joana asks questions like, "What do you get when you become happy?" Her teacher couldn't answer it. Can you?
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The book is structured in two parts, but the timeline is a mess. It jumps between Joana’s childhood—where she throws books at old men’s heads and makes up poems for her father—and her adulthood, where she watches her husband’s infidelity with a weird, detached indifference.
Specific things you'll notice:
- The Animal Metaphors: Joana is constantly compared to snakes, birds, and cats. She feels a kinship with things that don't have to explain themselves.
- The Language: The Portuguese in this book is famously "wrong." Clarice bent the grammar to fit the feeling. It’s rhythmic and sometimes frustrating.
- The Ending: No spoilers, but it’s an awakening. It’s not a "happy ending" in the Hollywood sense. It’s more of a spiritual escape.
The "Joycean" Controversy
Critics in the 1940s were convinced Clarice was a copycat. They pointed at the title, which comes from a line in Joyce: "He was alone, unheeded, near to the wild heart of life." But she didn’t pick the title. Her friend Lúcio Cardoso did. She had been reading Spinoza, not Joyce. This is a crucial detail because it proves her "modernism" wasn't a fashion choice. It was a natural frequency. She was just tuned into a different station than everyone else in Brazil at the time.
Is it Hard to Read?
Kinda. You can't skim it. If you try to read Near to the Wild Heart while checking your phone, you’ll lose the thread in three sentences. It requires a sort of "active surrender." You have to let the words wash over you.
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Some people find Joana repulsive. She’s cold. She’s selfish. But she’s also terrifyingly honest. She refuses to play the role of the "good wife" or the "grateful orphan." In a world that wanted women to be soft and predictable, Joana was a jagged piece of glass.
Takeaway for Readers
If you're going to pick up a copy—and you should—look for the translation by Alison Entrekin. It captures that weird, "foreign" energy that original readers felt in 1943.
Actionable next steps for your reading journey:
- Don't worry about the "story." Focus on the sensations. How does Joana describe the light? How does she feel about the sand on the beach?
- Read the epigraph first. It sets the tone for the entire "wildness" of the text.
- Compare it to her later work. If you find this book too "structured" (believe it or not, it's one of her most traditional books), move on to Água Viva. If you want more character, try The Hour of the Star.
- Look for the gaps. Much of the meaning in Lispector’s work lives in what she doesn't say.
This book isn't just a classic. It’s a challenge. It’s been over 80 years since it came out, and it still feels more "modern" than most of the stuff on the bestseller lists today.