A review by alexandrahorner
The Chandelier by Clarice Lispector
5.0
The sheer interiority of Lispector's The Chandelier is dizzying. The novel is violently sincere in its dialogue, which acutely examines thematic concerns regarding the construction of thought and existence, the intricate nature of relationships and the complexities (and at times the overwhelming reality) of our subjective mediations on childhood. The prose of Lispector's idiosyncratic novel reminded me of Virginia Woolf's most experimental work The Waves at its most eccentric and expansive. I think I will need time to fully and earnestly digest this book, but for now, I will summarise it as such: The Chandelier is a hauntingly stirring work that is both deeply gratifying yet profoundly existential.
However, in a book with practically no paragraphs or formal structure this novel is uniquely dense - which makes it difficult to follow at times. I sympathise with those who have left previous reviews that they struggled to make it past page 100, yet mourn the rich experience of Lispector's prose they are forgoing.
However, in a book with practically no paragraphs or formal structure this novel is uniquely dense - which makes it difficult to follow at times. I sympathise with those who have left previous reviews that they struggled to make it past page 100, yet mourn the rich experience of Lispector's prose they are forgoing.