A review by annalouise
Água Viva by Clarice Lispector

5.0

The storygraph AI feature compares this to Virginia Woolf and Franz Kafka. While I agree with this, I would like to take the opportunity to espouse Anaïs Nin a little bit. I see very strong parallels between this and A Spy in the House of Love, and I feel that although both can presumably be compared to the works of male writers, they speak of a uniquely feminine experience. Both Sabina and the narrator here are seeking affirmation in the other, and which they are unable to find in themselves. They are alone in the world and dream of being known, and through that loved. Where Sabina strays from her husband, believing that she cannot get the understanding that she needs from him, the narrator here knows that 'you' cannot give them the love they want, but refuses to stray from them, and instead writes and writes, knowing that they will not be heard but hoping nonetheless. 

‘There’s a love song of theirs that also says monotonously the lament I make my own: why do I love you if you don’t return my love? I send messengers in vain; when I greet you you hide your face from me; why do I love you if you don’t even notice me?’

This passage, along with many others, are particularly heartbreaking. The narrator's writing is a cry for help - which is invoked many times - and the entire story is an attempt to be seen which is never to be realised. It is unclear whether the 'you' that the narrator addresses is still in their life or not, with a contrast between the content of the writing (which suggests a lost love) and specific addresses which refer to their meeting. 

‘We will meet this afternoon. And I won’t even talk to you about this that I’m writing and which contains what I am and which I give you as a present though you won’t read it. You will never read what I’m writing. […] I’m writing you because you can’t accept what I am.’

The above passage also reminds me of Norwegian Wood, when Midori writes a letter to Toru while he is buying them drinks. In it, she is angry that after ignoring her for months, he has seen her, but still managed to ignore her (didn't notice a new haircut), because he is so focused on his own problems. Although we do not get the perspective of the 'you' in Àgua Viva, it is rather plain to see that the narrator writes to them because 'you' cannot see 'me', which is hurtful to the narrator, yet merely an aspect of the human condition. The narrator's identity appears plain to them, yet 'you' are still unwilling to attempt  understanding, and by extension, love. R.D. Laing, in The Divided Self, says that much madness would have been prevented or cured by love, which is rooted in understanding another's perspective. The narrator of Àgua Viva feels this deeply.