A Tradução da Estrela: Exploring the Potential of Feminist Translation to Inform Research in Clarice Lispector’s Novel.

1. Introduction

Pilar Godayol (Godayol, 2014) argues that to reclaim a feminine cultural genealogy, which recovers feminine cultural figures that have been silenced and rendered invisible historically, it is important to rely on ‘symbolic mothers and sisters’ (85). These ‘symbolic mothers and sisters’ would help us surpass the historical orphanhood of women’s writing by providing leadership, teachings, influence and enacting as reference points (85). Thus, to approach these figures, their translation and spotlight is highly relevant, with a particular emphasis on conveying their feminist content in translation. This directs our attention to the field of international literature research, with a specific focus on international feminine literature, in order to locate relevant examples, such as the case of Clarice Lispector. Lispector’s literature, similar to Godard’s analysis of hierarchies (1989), involves a deliberate adoption of the feminine role as a form of ‘mimicry’. This subverts the power dynamics that position femininity as subordinate and instead affirms an alternative perspective, challenging hierarchies based on sexual differences (Godard, 1989). Clarice Lispector, a distinguished figure in Brazilian literature during the 20th century, deviated from traditional literary forms, posing a challenge to attempts to classify her distinctive style of writing. Born in Chechelnyk, Ukraine, in 1920, she immigrated to Maceió, Brazil, in 1922. Her contributions to Brazilian literature consist of a substantial compilation of novels, short stories, chronicles, and translations, with the latter frequently overlooked by scholars. This article aims to explore her experimental writing style, particularly in her novella A Hora da Estrela (1977), and how it has posed a significant challenge for translators. The analysis will focus on the English translations by Giovanni Pontiero (1986) and Benjamin Moser (2011), specifically exploring how they handle the complexities of Lispector’s unconventional writing style. Notably, attention will be given to the feminist subversive literary techniques present in her work, and how certain aspects have been neglected or adapted in translation because of various considerations.

In her novella, A Hora da Estrela (The Hour of the Star), published in 1977, Clarice Lispector presents a unique narrative style that delves into societal structures, gender boundaries, and power dynamics. The plot centres around Macabéa, a young woman from the northeastern region of Brazil, who faces the struggles of poverty in Rio de Janeiro. The novel is narrated by Rodrigo, a narrator who offers opposition to Macabéa as an intellectual man who does not struggle with poverty and who attempts to produce a vivid portrayal of her life. This analysis will explore the objectification of Macabéa by the narrator, the author’s deliberate establishment of boundaries between the novel and the reader, the subversion of power dynamics between the narrator and the character in the novella.

Giovanni Pontiero was the first to translate The Hour of the Star into English in 1986. Pontiero was an accomplished translator who played a significant role in introducing Brazilian literature to English-speaking readers, particularly from the United Kingdom. He translated several of Lispector’s works into English, including Near to the Wild Heart, Family Ties, The Foreign Legion, Discovering the World, as well as three of her children’s books: The Woman Who Killed the Fish, Laura’s Intimate Life, and Almost for Real (Esteves, 2016a, p. 30). He translated The Hour of the Star and published it with Carcanet Press, a publisher initially focused on poetry, short fiction, and art criticism, with the participation of both student and senior members from Oxford and Cambridge universities (Carcanet Press: About Us, n.d.). Therefore, the translation appears to have been oriented toward an audience with a specific interest in modernist and poetic writing, possibly catering to a subset of elitist and/or intellectual readers. While Pontiero’s translation contributed to the visibility of Lispector and the establishment of an Anglophone readership in the United Kingdom, this analysis will expose certain feminist subversive elements that were overlooked in his rendition due to its adaptive style. These elements encompass the omission of relevant punctuation, the downplaying of Macabéa’s objectification, and the surprising agency bestowed upon Macabéa in her final moments.

The second English translation of A Hora da Estrela was released by Benjamin Moser, an American writer and translator, in 2011. Moser has garnered recognition both in Brazil and internationally for his roles as a biographer, editor, and translator of Lispector’s works. His prominence is emphasised by his pivotal role as the Series Editor of an ongoing initiative at New Directions Publishing, which is committed to the translation of Lispector’s complete works into English. His translation of A Hora da Estrela was published by this same publisher, New Directions Publishing, an American press specialising in avant-garde art and founded by James Laughlin following Ezra Pound’s ‘career advice’ (New Direction Publishing: About Us, n.d.), Moser’s translation aligns with a readership akin to that of Pontiero. It suggests a shared orientation towards readers with an interest in avant-garde, experimental, and intellectual spheres, both literary but also a sort of elite readership. This analysis aims to explore the alignment between Moser’s approach and Lispector’s stylistic choices. Nevertheless, it also underscores instances where Moser fails to acknowledge Lispector’s feminist subversive techniques, such as his neglect of pertinent punctuation and a narrow focus on specific sections of the source text.

In analysing the translations of Pontiero and Moser in A Hora da Estrela, discernible nuances emerge, warranting careful examination to further understand how these translations have negotiated the more experimental and subversive aspects of the novel. Esteves’s study (Esteves, 2016b), which compares the stylistic elements of these translations to the source text, serves as a robust analytical framework for comprehending the translators’ methodologies and the ramifications of retranslation. Esteves’ findings assert that Moser’s rendition adheres closer to Lispector’s stylistic choices, navigating the intricate interplay of language, syntax, and register. In contrast, Pontiero’s translation tends to flatten, smoothen, and conform to English language conventions through supplementary elucidations. The objective of this study is to contribute to the ongoing discussion from a feminist translation perspective, highlighting the feminist techniques that have been excluded or compromised in the translations. By examining specific examples from the English translations of A Hora da Estrela, it seeks to contribute to the ongoing dialogue on Lispector’s literary legacy and the challenges of translating her texts. The primary contention maintains that the use of feminist translation practices can yield a more nuanced representation of Lispector’s groundbreaking contributions to literature, ultimately serving to inform future researchers and translators.

2.1 Body Part 1: Research and Feminist Translation

The global influence of Lispector is undeniable, as her initially perceived ‘challenging’ work has acquired popularity in the English-speaking world, thanks to the efforts of several agents. These include the French feminists who first introduced her to France, as well as the Global North. However, there has been scrutiny surrounding the application of the French feminist perspective to the author’s work, with scholars such as Maria Marta Laus Pereira (1995) questioning its accuracy and highlighting the significance of individual temperaments. The research conducted by Pereira on the French reception of Clarice Lispector uncovers the processes and individuals responsible for shaping Lispector’s image using a French feminist perspective, specifically highlighting the impact of different French feminist organisations. Debates and reservations persist regarding this foreign perception of Lispector. It is crucial to note that Hélène Cixous played a pivotal role in framing Lispector’s work, intertwining her writing with Cixous’ theorisation of écriture féminine and igniting debates about potential misappropriation (Esteves, 2016a, p. 25). Scholars, including Carol Armsbruster and Mathieu Lindon (Pereira, 1995, p. 121) have opposed this framing, contending that Cixous’ temperament and value system filtered Lispector’s image. Elena Carrera also expresses reservations while noting that Cixous, having a non-academic character, does not directly cite the texts (Carrera, 1999, p. 91). Despite these debates, Esteves notes that regardless of the modulation of Lispector’s image, this intervention brought readers and prestige to the author abroad (Esteves, 2016a, p. 27). Ultimately, this influence permeates a substantial portion of research conducted in the Global North, creating an emphasis on feminist approaches and écriture féminine. This focus is partly shared by this article, which is centred on the feminist techniques that Lispector offers in her writing and how these have been mediated in translation.

As emphasised by Olga Castro and Maria Spoturno (2020), feminist translation studies should actively uncover the dynamics of knowledge control and advocate for a more inclusive research approach. In the context of Lispector’s scholarship, a focus on her subversive feminist techniques in the source text, that has been inadequately represented in current translations, becomes critical. This approach seeks to redefine Lispector’s position within the scholarship of the Global North, supporting her as an independent theorist rather than a subject of Global North’s academic theorising. In turn, it lays the groundwork for a more conscious and ethical framing of the author’s work. Consequently, future research on A Hora da Estrela could be significantly enriched by delving into the dynamics of feminist translation. This involves techniques that make the translator visible and contextualise the author, elevating both the author’s and the translator’s contributions and offering a more informed readership.

Simone Pereira Schmidt and Ana Gabriela Macedo (2019, p. 1) note the evolution of feminist directions, transcending traditional North-South paradigms and adopting diverse configurations. Considering this shift, a re-examination of A Hora da Estrela, coupled with informing future research and readership of the effects of current translations, holds potential benefits. Its purpose extends beyond raising awareness; it seeks to foster greater interest in an expanded practice of feminist translation, aiming to illuminate the nuanced contents of Lispector’s work. This endeavour contributes to a broader understanding of feminist translation, urging scholars to engage with Lispector’s oeuvre with heightened sensitivity to feminist potential and advocating for diverse perspectives in translating her work. Recent Anglophone scholarship on Lispector, as evidenced by Adriana X. Jacobs and Claire Williams’ edited anthology (After Clarice, 2022), signals a notable shift in interest regarding the author. This departure is particularly evident in the anthology’s focus on various aspects beyond the traditional influence of Hélène Cixous. A significant development is the dedicated section within the anthology centred on the analysis and importance of the translation of Lispector’s works, exploring the English reception of the author as well as translations into other languages such as Chinese and Hebrew. Notably, amidst this surge in global attention and translation, the aspect of feminist translation appears overlooked or disconnected from this broader movement. Recognising that heightened interest in Lispector’s work may lead to more translations or a re-evaluation of existing ones, this article seeks to contribute by closely examining A Hora da Estrela and how The Hour of the Star has navigated the feminist opportunities inherent in the source text. In essence, the article positions itself within the broader trend of global interest in Lispector, offering a focused exploration of the feminist dimensions often present but potentially overlooked in the translation of her works.

As emphasised by Sandra G. Almeida (Almeida, 2011, p. 247), a crucial consideration in contemporary scholarly discourse involves mapping gender representations and constructions of women in new geopolitical, cultural, and socioeconomic spaces. Almeida’s perspective urges a nuanced examination of categories such as exile, migration, and diaspora, recognising their reciprocal impact on gender relations. These categories, she argues, constitute forms of agency and relevant insertions in contemporary discourses, highlighting the interconnectedness of spatialities and gender dynamics. In alignment with Almeida’s framework, this article contributes to the concept of contemporary spatialities through the lens of translation, specifically examining the migration of Lispector’s content. A Hora da Estrela particularly explores the portrayal and subversion of gendered power dynamics. The examination of Lispector’s work in translation allows for an exploration of how gender constructions and power relations manifest and adapt across diverse cultural and linguistic contexts. The feminist agenda of this article aligns with that stated by Schmidt and Macedo (Schmidt & Macedo, 2019, p. 1), which seeks to propose alternative knowledge-power systems that create possibilities for new political agencies and the construction of heterodox and non-hegemonic epistemologies. In this context, the study of Lispector’s migration in translation serves as a microcosm for understanding the broader implications of feminist interventions in challenging dominant paradigms and fostering alternative ways of knowing and being, both in source and target texts.

2.2 Body Part 2: A Comparative Analysis

In the realm of Clarice Lispector’s novella A Hora da Estrela, intricate dynamics of authorship and representation take centre stage. The novella features Rodrigo, a man who serves as the narrator, writing about Macabéa—an impoverished subaltern woman from the Northeastern region of Brazil residing in a Rio de Janeiro slum. Aligned with Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s (Spivak, 2010, p. 20) insightful exploration, addressing the representation gaps and posing the pivotal question, ‘Can the subaltern speak?,’ Lispector’s narrative unfolds as a compelling discourse on the challenges faced by women positioned outside the dominant production narrative. Spivak’s work illustrates how women, especially those placed outside the dominant production narrative, may find themselves inadequately represented or constrained within such frameworks (Spivak, 2010, p. 20). The challenge of capturing the experience and voice of these subaltern women, epitomised by Macabéa, becomes palpable in Rodrigo’s attempts to depict her life—mediated through layers of the authorial voice. Lispector’s complex portrayal of this dynamic prompts reflection on the sufficiency of representation and the limitations when someone in a privileged position, in this case Rodrigo by being the direct embodiment of the dominant production narrative, endeavours to encapsulate a subaltern woman’s experience, echoing Spivak’s concerns.

Upon examining Clarice Lispector’s novella through Julia Kristeva’s theoretical framework, her use of feminist subversion is revealed through the interplay of symbolic and semiotic dynamics. Kristeva’s conceptualisation posits the interplay between the semiotic and symbolic, forming a signifying process wherein the subject emerges through language. According to Kristeva, these modalities are distinct psychological registers that acquire gendered connotations, with semiotic aligning with the feminine/maternal and symbolic embodying the masculine/paternal. Although Kristeva asserts the absence of political or feminist connotations between them in one essay (Kristeva, 2004, pp. 204–205), she contends that within the symbolic, traditionally associated with patriarchal structures, a subversive semiotic force exists—a modality of language devoid of structure, rules, or order (Kristeva, 1987, p. 5). In Lispector’s narrative, this signifies attributing the symbolic to language and structure, both elements entrenched in the patriarchal system, while the semiotic, nestled within the symbolic, operates as a subversive force, expressed through features like glossolalia and poetic language.

 Within the narrative, the power dynamic strategically depicted positions Macabéa as reliant on Rodrigo’s authorial prowess, symbolically intertwined with language and the overarching patriarchal order. In turn, Rodrigo casts Macabéa into the role of the objectified ‘other’ within the narrative’s complex power structure. This intricate portrayal makes Macabéa emblematic of the broader struggles confronted by subaltern women, grappling with their representation within the dominant discourse. Lispector’s narrative lays bare the hierarchical nature of language, with Rodrigo’s control over the narrative serving as a microcosm of a larger societal paradigm. Macabéa’s dependence on Rodrigo’s voice mirrors the systemic silencing and subjugation of subaltern women, relegating them to passive recipients rather than active participants in constructing their own narratives. This nuanced exploration underscores Lispector’s insightful commentary on the power dynamics imprinted in language and societal structures.

As we delve into the layers of Lispector’s work, the enduring themes of misogyny and objectification within the narrator’s portrayal of Macabéa come into focus. Macabéa, portrayed through the male gaze of Rodrigo as a virgin of extreme innocence, and a body full of holes laden with lasciviousness, becomes a poignant symbol embodying the struggle against ingrained gender biases. These persistent themes serve as critical reflections of societal norms and power imbalances, compelling readers to confront the oppressive structures that permeate the narrative:

Section A of Lispector’s novella highlights Macabéa’s body as the main focus, portrayed vividly through the depiction of a “corpo cariado”. This term refers specifically to dental cavities and is used to describe the state of Macabéa’s body (corpo). Pontiero translated it as ‘a body as withered as hers’. This choice of Pontiero creates a more conventional description that distances itself from the source text. This translation choice, while possibly aligning with a conventional understanding of Macabéa’s affliction with consumption, deviates from the explicit meaning of ‘cariado’ as implying ‘(dental) cavities,’ a crucial aspect of the source text’s description. Conversely, Moser’s translation, opting for ‘cavity-ridden body,’ embraces a more literal approach that maintains proximity to the source text. The term ‘cavity’ here is particularly significant, accurately conveying the decay of ‘caries’ (cavities) described in the source text and implying the presence of ‘holes’. This particular translation effectively depicts Macabéa’s body, punctured with holes, serving as a stark representation of Rodrigo’s objectification and the theme of illness. In other words, Moser’s version not only captures the decay implied by ‘cariado’ but also intensifies the visual imagery associated with a body marked by both cavities and holes. Moreover, Moser’s following translation, ‘so much lasciviousness could fit,’ parallels Lispector’s use of a cavity in the sense of ‘a hole’, as it implies that it can fit copious amounts of lasciviousness. This emphasis on ‘holes’ intensifies the objectification of Macabéa, portraying her as a body defined by voids. This element strategically enhances the impact of the male gaze portrayed by the narrator and delves into Macabéa’s ontology, suggesting these holes as spaces that fascinate Rodrigo but remain inaccessible. These voids can also be ascribed to symbolise the silence of Macabéa, signifying elements of her existence that Rodrigo cannot completely comprehend or access. The term ‘withered’ chosen by Pontiero, while maintaining a sense of decay, diminishes the explicit visual imagery associated with a body marked by cavities/holes. Consequently, this translation diminishes the significance of the initial depiction and modifies the extent of objectification portrayed in Lispector’s narrative.

In Section B, the recurrence of ‘corpo cariado’ by Rodrigo to describe Macabéa underscores what was previously indicated – the divergence between Pontiero and Moser’s translations. Pontiero’s version, in this instance, deviates from the objectification evident in Moser’s translation, opting for ‘diseased’ as the rendering for ‘cariado’. The translated text remains consistent with the broader depiction of Macabéa’s struggle with consumption, thus upholding thematic coherence with Section A. The employment of the term ‘disease’ in Pontiero’s translation establishes a connection with Macabéa’s health adversities, situating her within the larger framework of poverty and societal negligence. Conversely, Moser’s translation emphasises the concept of ‘cavity’ (cariado) to heighten the impact of ‘holes,’ opting for ‘full of holes’. This version accentuates the vivid imagery associated with Rodrigo’s male gaze, contributing to a portrayal that objectifies Macabéa and underscores the themes of misogyny and objectification present in the source text. In these examples, it becomes evident that different themes are explored, each relevant to the narrative in distinct ways, yet both limiting the scope for double interpretation.

The two translations essentially offer contrasting interpretations of the imagery. Pontiero underscores the idea of disease, aligning with Macabéa’s broader health struggles, while Moser highlights the notion of holes, centring on Rodrigo’s objectifying viewpoint of Macabéa. Nevertheless, it is of utmost importance to emphasise that the narrator explicitly declares that calling her ‘cariado’ is the most brutal remark he could make. This insight into the narrator’s perspective centralises the focus on Rodrigo’s judgment, laying bare a stark difference in the narrative platforms crafted by the translations. In Pontiero’s version, the narrator deems a ‘diseased body’ as the most brutal descriptor for Macabéa. This choice underscores the interplay between disease and poverty, highlighting the socio-economic struggles faced by Macabéa. A diseased body, particularly one belonging to a subaltern woman lacking access to proper medical support, becomes the epitome of vulnerability within the socio-economic confines of the literary space she occupies. In contrast, Moser’s version asserts it is a ‘body full of holes,’ drawing attention to Rodrigo’s objectification as a practice that places Macabéa as the epitome of vulnerability of the literary space that she occupies by virtue of being a woman being objectified, while discarding the association with disease. In contrast, Moser’s rendition posits that it is a ‘body full of holes,’ thereby highlighting Rodrigo’s commodification as a custom that positions Macabéa as the epitome of vulnerability within the literary sphere she occupies as a result of her objectified state, while disregarding the association with illness. As such, in Moser’s version, Rodrigo’s value system lies within the domain of commentary on misogyny and patriarchal power. The platform shift brings about a significant transformation in the narrative tone. One version highlights the brutality stemming from societal power structures associated with socio-economic class and its impact on physical health. The other version explores gender bias and objectification as a consequence of other prevailing power structures that oppress Macabéa, particularly the patriarchal system. As a result, the ethical and moral balance within Rodrigo’s character is reconfigured and negotiated in each translation differently.

Lispector’s resolution to the power play between Rodrigo and Macabéa is executed through a radical act—the simultaneous obliteration of both characters in a cathartic death. As the narrator, Rodrigo not only orchestrates Macabéa’s demise through his writing, but also asserts that she is killing him, effectively narrating his own death. This critical juncture marks a narrative shift as Rodrigo relinquishes the narration, potentially allowing Lispector’s voice to take precedence. The literary co-dependency between Rodrigo and Macabéa becomes apparent, as their deaths are inextricably linked, offering a release from the narrative tension/synergy they embody. This resolution challenges and subverts the conventional Lacanian model, which posits non-reciprocal relationships (Blyth & Sellers, 2004, p. 21). In the novel, Macabéa functions as Rodrigo’s narrative umbilical cord. Her death, portrayed as liberating, severs this connection, leaving Rodrigo devoid of self-definition within the narrative structure. Consequently, the narrative undergoes a transformative shift, disrupting the boundaries between the textual realm and reality. This rupture extends to the separation between sign and signifier, unravelling established structures that govern narrative and identity in the novel, as seen in the following excerpt:

As exemplified in this instance, the narration of the demise of both characters rests in Rodrigo’s voice. He explicitly asserts that through one’s death, a moment of self-encounter emerges—a moment divorced from dependency on ‘the other’ for self-awareness. Within this particular context, Pontiero’s translation of Lispector’s ‘Macabéa me matou’ is ‘Macabéa has murdered me’, thus adding a level of criminal responsibility (murder) and infusing the text with ethical complexities from Macabéa’s perspective. Throughout the narrative, Macabéa remains portrayed as oblivious to the ongoing narration, lacking awareness of Rodrigo. Consequently, Pontiero’s translation introduces a sense of premeditation, awareness, and agency, qualities that are seldom attributed to Macabéa by the narrator. This translation, while humanising and personalising Macabéa, opts for a more fluid formula from the target language, simultaneously distancing the text from both Lispector’s style and Rodrigo’s control over Macabéa. Conversely, Moser’s version remains closer to the source text, translating it as ‘Macabéa killed me.’ While this still implicates Macabéa in Rodrigo’s demise, it avoids the criminal connotations found in Pontiero’s rendition. Instead, it offers a broader interpretation in which Macabéa, typically denied significant agency, causes the narrator’s death unknowingly and without active agency, resembling a force akin to a disease. The translation by Moser, with its nuanced approach, successfully maintains the proximity to the source text and preserves the subtleties of Macabéa’s characterisation within the narrative.

In the subsequent passage, Lispector declares, ‘Ela estava enfim livre de si e de nós,’ which Pontiero translates as ‘She is finally free of herself and of me’. The translation suggests Macabéa’s emancipation from herself and from Rodrigo exclusively. This is indicated by the exclusion of ‘nós’ (us) from the rendition, thereby excluding the option of including Rodrigo, Lispector, and the reader. Nevertheless, it should be noted that the use of ‘nós’ in the source text conveys a collective ‘us,’ emphasising the involvement of Rodrigo, Lispector, and the reader in this power dynamic. In this context, Macabéa’s constraints, outlined in the Portuguese text as herself (reflecting bodily and socio-economic restrictions), Rodrigo (and Lispector) as the narrator who captures and simultaneously constrains Macabéa in the literary sense, and the reader—active agents who reinforce this power dynamic by being spectators and consumers of the narrative—become apparent. Lispector unveils the reader’s role in the narrative’s economy, which is disrupted by the obliteration. This positions Macabéa in one of the lower levels of the hierarchical structure, while also acknowledging the restrictive or oppressive nature of the active participants towards her. Ultimately, as Macabéa frees herself from their grasp, she becomes inaccessible to these agents. On the contrary, Moser’s rendition asserts that Macabéa is freed from herself and everyone else, ‘She was finally free of herself and of us,’ encompassing Rodrigo, the reader, and possibly Lispector. Moser’s nuanced translation showcases an acute awareness of the tensions present in Lispector’s text concerning the philosophical debates embedded in the narrative. Furthermore, it portrays the absolute freedom that its state of bliss, which may align with the ‘Real’ as theorised by Lacanian theory, has to offer. This freedom, articulated in Moser’s version, transcends the constraints imposed by language, narration, and intellectual constructs, emphasising a profound liberation achieved through the obliteration of characters and their symbolic roles.

In a parallel vein, both translators bring distinct emphases on their characterisation of tensions in the text, particularly in their treatment of ‘Disculpai-me esta morte.’ Pontiero’s rendition crafts a narrative where Rodrigo seeks forgiveness for his own death, stating, ‘Forgive my dying.’ Conversely, Moser’s translation introduces an element of indistinctness by omitting explicit identification of whose death is at hand, using, ‘Pray forgive me this death.’ This deliberate lack of specificity aligns more closely with the ambiguity found in Lispector’s text, where the flexibility and attribution of responsibility for Rodrigo’s crime differ notably. Furthermore, Moser’s translation introduces the word ‘Pray,’ serving as a religious invocation and a marker of humility in Rodrigo’s character. This addition starkly contrasts with the narrator’s initial portrayal, potentially offering a reading centred on the deconstruction of Rodrigo’s obliterated identity—dissolved, fused, separated from, or with Macabéa’s. In Pontiero’s interpretation, Rodrigo’s guilt or fault primarily hinges on his own death as a consequence of Macabéa’s demise. Pontiero’s portrayal positions Rodrigo as fundamentally responsible for his own death. In contrast, Moser’s rendition allows for an interpretation where Rodrigo bears responsibility for his own death and/or Macabéa’s. This nuanced difference in attribution of responsibility contributes to the complexity of Lispector’s narrative, as Moser introduces layers of ambiguity and multifaceted implications that resonate with the source text.

As can be observed in the preceding sections, wherein both characters confront their mortality, the semiotic investigation is firmly grounded in the subversive endeavour of portraying a male narrator interacting with the subaltern woman, ultimately experiencing annihilation alongside her in a multifaceted negotiation of power dynamics. Lispector’s revaluation of the symbolic power wielded by Rodrigo over Macabéa unfolds through the dramatic obliteration of both characters. Within this intricate dynamic, Macabéa’s death, orchestrated by Rodrigo, serves as the catalyst for his own demise. Consequently, this intricate process dismantles the established symbolic power structure, offering a semiotic resolution that transcends the confines of the symbolic realm.

Lispector’s examination of power dynamics extends beyond the relationship between Rodrigo and Macabéa, encompassing the dynamic between the novella and its reader. In a contrasting exploration found in the chronicle “Machine Writing,” from 1971, Lispector envisioned a publication featuring a blank page, inviting readers to project their interpretations onto it: ‘If I could, I would leave my place on this page blank: replete with a resounding silence. And everyone who gazed at the blank space would fill it with their own desires’ (Lispector, 2013, p. 442). This dynamic interaction with ‘the other’ serves as a central element in A Hora da Estrela, where Rodrigo intentionally thwarts reader projection by encasing one of its many titles within full stops. This is the case of the title: ‘.Quanto ao futuro.’ which includes both full stops, one at the beginning and one at the end of the title. The use of full stops in the title ‘.Quanto ao futuro.’ is consistent with the source’s use of full stops in the list of titles found at the beginning of the novella. This list is a paratexts that serves a literary purpose of creating an echoing effect throughout the novella. The titles in the list refer to central themes of the novella and are explicitly referenced within the text, creating a literary device of call and recall. However, when the recall of ‘.Quanto ao futuro.’ takes place, a relevant inconsistency happens in both translations:

Upon comparing the three texts, it becomes apparent that the full stops in ‘.Quanto ao futuro.’ have not been preserved in the translations, although the translations still describe the title as if the periods were there: ‘preceded and followed by a full stop’ and ‘which is preceded by a period and followed by another period’. Within the realm of feminist translation, Lispector’s intricate exploration of boundaries and reader projection takes on profound significance. As a woman commenting on the power dynamics inherent in her work, Lispector’s deliberate use of full stops around the title in ‘.Quanto ao futuro.’acts as a poignant commentary on the imposition of boundaries and the restriction of reader projection. This choice becomes a feminist act, illustrating Lispector’s agency in shaping how her narrative is engaged with. The absence of periods in both translations can be attributed to a preference for adhering to conventional norms in the target culture or limitations imposed by the translation’s production process. Benjamin Moser commented on the attempts to ‘smooth out’ Lispector’s peculiarities: “Translators tried to smooth her out, to correct her odd punctuation and her weird phrasings. It’s an understandable impulse, but it does her a disservice: if you take out the weirdness of Clarice, you take out Clarice. Some of the translations, like The Hour of the Star, which I have just published in my own version, took this to an extreme, filling her every caesura with overly explicit phrasings that made her prose plodding instead of poetic.” (Moser, 2011) Moser’s acknowledgement of the challenge in rendering Lispector’s unique style underscores the complex task of balancing the source’s unique style with the need for reader accessibility. However, despite Moser’s commentary and his consistent adherence to the source style in the previous examples, it is worth noting the subtle homogenisation of Lispector’s unconventional style at some points. This could potentially dilute the subversive power dynamics within her texts, as this example demonstrates the dismissal of purposeful punctuation in the published translation. Despite Moser’s expressed commitment to closely preserving Lispector’s style, this alteration subverts the source text’s intention of preventing reader projections. Consequently, the translations afford readers the opposite effect of the source text: an invitation to wonder, project, and question. The metaphorical function of full stops, bereft of an in-text sign, actively engages with the reader’s subjective processes of imagination. This absence of a ‘body’ to these signs disrupts source boundaries, providing readers with a novel and highly unique experience that departs from the specific effect of the source text, which is to deter any form of projection. Within this exploration of meaning, the translations carve out rhetorical space for projection and imagination, in the similar vein as Lispector ponders about in ‘Machine Writing’.

3. Conclusion

This comparative analysis of the source text and target texts comprising A Hora da Estrela and both The Hour of the Star unveils valuable insights into the intricate relationship between translation and literary feminist contributions. The analysis sheds light on the choices and renditions made in both The Hour of the Star, with the overarching goal of highlighting Lispector’s feminist literary techniques that have not been fully rendered in translation. Central to this exploration is the navigation of various power dynamics and tensions within the text, particularly the feminist techniques employed by Lispector. These techniques are crucial for depicting the male gaze, addressing gendered power dynamics, and commenting on the intricate relationship between reader and text. Nevertheless, the study indicates that the existing English translations of A Hora da Estrela do not adhere to feminist translation practices, which intentionally aim to avoid the suppression of feminist elements. As a result, there is a potential risk that these translations maintain the silencing effects on the feminist commentary of the novella. This concern aligns with that of various scholars who have spoken or noted the silencing effects of translation (Baker, 2013; Translocalities/Translocalidades, 2014; Ergun & Castro, 2017; Castro & Spoturno, 2020).

As highlighted in the earliest Anglophone publication edited by Adriana X. Jacobs and Claire Williams (After Clarice, 2022), Lispector scholarship is undergoing a transformative phase in research, moving away from previous affiliations with French Feminism, particularly Hélène Cixous—a common practice in the Global North that has faced criticism from Brazilian scholars. This departure signifies a shift in interest from écriture féminine towards a focus on commentary about Lispector’s global presence and the translations stemming from the increasing popularity of the author. Considering this evolution, it becomes pertinent to observe that feminist translation has not yet been associated with Lispector’s scholarship and research on her translations.

There is a pressing need for feminist translation practices to accommodate the evolving perspective on Lispector’s work in the English-speaking world, addressing the needs of both the general audience and scholarly endeavours. The scope of this advocacy surpasses a one-size-fits-all approach, as it acknowledges the potential silencing effects that can arise from adopting a singular perspective. It emphasises the importance of embracing a diversity of voices and perspectives, which intricately enriches the feminist tapestry present in Lispector’s writings. By surpassing the conventional limitations of commercialised and invisible translation, this article underscores the significance of feminist literary involvement in the translation and scholarly examination of Lispector’s works. It asserts that a feminist translation practice is particularly suitable for authors who possess unconventional or experimental styles, such as Lispector’s. By contributing to a deeper understanding of the interplay between translation and feminism, this exploration issues a persuasive call for translators and researchers to approach Lispector’s oeuvre with heightened sensitivity to its feminist potential. It emphasises the imperative of recognising and preserving nuanced layers that might otherwise be silenced during the translation process. In this context, feminist translation practice entails considering feminist interpretations and providing visibility to the translator through commentary. This serves to enlighten readers about the intricacies and ambiguities of the source text. Furthermore, it involves departing from the conventions of the target culture when necessary, preserving crucial stylistic decisions and social commentary embedded in the source text.