12/19/16

Mário de Andrade - a landmark precursor of Latin American magical realism. Dramatizing aspects of Brazil in transition (multiracial, Indian versus European, rural versus urban life), Macunaima undergoes sometimes hilarious, sometimes grotesque transformations until his final annihilation and apotheosis as the Great Bear constellation in the heavens




Mário de Andrade, Macunaíma, Trans. by E. A. Goodland, Random House, 1984 [1928]

Announcing a major literary event: here is the first translation into English of a landmark precursor of Latin American magical realism, which has informed the work of contemporary writers from Garcia Marquez to Salman Rushdie. Macunaima, first published in Portuguese in 1928, and one of the masterworks of Brazilian literature, is a comic folkloric rhapsody (call it a novel if you really want) about the adventures of a popular hero whose fate is intended to define the national character of Brazil.

"Inventive, blessedly unsentimental," as Kirkus Reviews has it, and incorporating and interpreting the rich exotic myths and legends of Brazil, Macunaima traces the hero's quest for a magic charm, a gift from the gods, that he lost by transgressing the mores of his culture. Born in the heart of the darkness of the jungle, Macunaima is a complex of contradictory traits (he is, of course, "a hero without a character"), and can at will magically change his age, his race, his geographic location, to suit his purposes and overcome obstacles. Dramatizing aspects of Brazil in transition (multiracial, Indian versus European, rural versus urban life), Macunaima undergoes sometimes hilarious, sometimes grotesque transformations until his final annihilation and apotheosis as the Great Bear constellation in the heavens.



"Sly, ribald and opulent in a hardheaded, buoyant way, the book is a classic (.....) A hallucinative poet suckled on Apollinaire and Laforgue, de Andrade takes in everything, ancient and modern, African and Italian, and creates from it a chirping icon, cosmic and undusty. (...) What an amazing supple text it is, woven together from songs, curses, obscenities, tall tales, erudite letters and primitive improvisation. It is almost beside the point to note that the book's content is just as varied as its manner" - Paul West, The Nation


"E.A.Goodland's translation brings the language across with descriptive passages of considerable eloquence. However, he cannot make Mário de Andrade's folk speak in English as they should. (...) Nonetheless, I am almost ready to forgive anything from Mr.Goodland, who has obviously taken pains to bring such a nutty and happily unserious exercise into English." - Alexander Coleman, The New York Times Book Review


"(A) hilarious folkloric novel (.....) The language, exuberant and vulgar, lifts off the page, creating a huge, richly textured slice of Brazilian life, oozing with rapturous malevolence and peopled by blackguards, victims, paramours and assiduous ticks and ants." - Sunday Times


"Ostensibly, the book follows its roguish titular hero as he travels from his homeland in the northern Amazon to 1920s São Paulo and back, in quest of a talisman which has fallen into the hands of a giant. But digressions are the sunshine, and the book’s principal pleasure lies in Andrade’s meanderings through Brazilian myth and legend. Macunaíma’s adventures often read like a series of short folkloric vignettes. (...) Dodson’s translation captures all the playfulness of the Portuguese text. The Brazilian colloquialisms are transposed to a fizzy American vernacular, but flora and fauna maintain their original names, inviting a surrender to the story’s strange, defamiliarising atmosphere." - Pablo Scheffer, The Telegraph


"(O)ne of the most original novels in Latin American literature, and the work that established the terms of debate for the forging of a distinctive Brazilian aesthetic of modernity. (...) Katrina Dodson’s translation, employing a colloquial American diction with palpable African American and Deep South overtones, gives Macunaíma a consistent, credible voice in English. She inhabits and breathes life into the novel as though she were a revenant from the Brazilian jungle of a century ago. Her afterword is the most complete short account of Andrade’s achievement available in English; her notes on each chapter’s word choices, the result of five years’ research, exceed in their insights even Portuguese-language critical editions such as that co-ordinated by Telê Porto Ancona Lopez, published by Unesco in 1988. (...) It is not only Brazil’s complexity that Mário de Andrade captures, but that of the Americas as a whole, and to some extent that of the entire modern world." - Stephen Henighan, Times Literary Supplement


‘Katrina Dobson’s translation, employing a colloquial American diction with palpable African American and Deep South overtones, gives Macunaíma a consistent, credible voice in English. She inhabits and breathes life into the novel as though she were a revenant from the Brazilian jungle of a century ago…It is not only Brazil’s complexity that Mário de Andrade captures, but that of the Americas as a whole, and to some extent that of the entire modern world.’— Stephen Henighan, Time Literary Supplement


‘Macunaíma is a self-consciously nation-founding novel that reads like a thick broth of painful historical truth, quoted myth, and irreducible pleasures. Rarely is so much pleasure given and pain revealed by overlapping languages.’— Arto Lindsay


‘An explosion of language… The obvious comparison for English speakers would be Ulysses, as an encyclopedia of styles, of language forms.’— Fredric Jameson


‘He’s an anti-hero hero, questioning and contradictory. Macunaíma is an emblem of the marvelous, metamorphosed into the errant question mark of his one-legged constellation. An anti-normative hero who points to a future, eventually more open, world.’— Haroldo de Campos


‘Mário wrote our Odyssey and, with a swing of his native club, created our classical hero and the national poetic idiom for the next fifty years.’— Oswald de Andrade


‘A deliberately provocative text, slangy, comical, antiliterary, assuming all the apparent contradictions of the struggle against European seriousness in its various forms.‘— Pascale Casanova


‘Macunaíma is a miracle. There’s nothing like it in all of literature. Katrina Dodson is a hero.’— Mario Bellatin, author of Beauty Salon


‘We are so fortunate that Mário de Andrade’s rollicking Macunaíma is finally reappearing in English in Katrina Dodson’s dazzling translation.’— John Keene, author of Counternarratives


‘Dodson, a PEN Award–winning translator of Clarice Lispector, breathes new life into this spirited modernist classic from Brazillian writer de Andrade…Electrifying and perplexing, this cornerstone of Brazilian literature shouldn’t be missed.’— Publishers Weekly, starred review


Macunaíma opens with the birth of its titular hero, described not as 'the hero with no character' of the subtitle but rather:

In the depths of the virgin-forest was born Macunaíma, hero of our people.

As to his hero's 'lack of character', Andrade explains, in the second preface he wrote to the novel, it is: "Lack of character in the double sense of an individual with no moral character and with no set characteristics" -- and he certainly shows these throughout the story.

Macunaíma is often referred to simply as 'the hero' in the rest of the story as well, though he mostly seems out for his own pleasure and fun. If, ultimately, a man of action, at least in the sense of a great deal happening around and to him, he is only reluctantly so -- as is made clear by his oft-repeated catchphrase (or, indeed, motto): "Ah ! just so lazy ! ...".

Macunaíma is also no ordinary man, but, in this novel filled with the fantastical, a shapeshifter: already as a young child he transforms into a full-grown adult "ardent prince", so he can have his way with his brother Jiguê's "gal". He comes to play around with her more, too:

Macunaíma stayed home alone with Jiguê's gal. Then he turned into the quenquém ant and bit Iriqui to cuddle with her. But the girl hurled the quenquém far away. So then Macunaíma turned into an urucum tree. The lovely Iriqui laughed, gathered its seeds and dolled herself up painting her face and distinctive parts. She was ever so lovely. And Macunaíma was so delighted he turned back into a person and shacked up with Jiguê's gal.

Macunaíma also takes up with the beautiful "Ci, Mother of the Forest", a warrior-queen with a: "body ravaged by vice and painted with jenipapo". When they part -- Ci ascending "a vine up to the sky", where she becomes Beta Centauri -- she gives him "a famous muiraquitã amulet". Macunaíma loses this tempetá, and to the extent that Macunaíma has a plot it can be called a quest tale, as he tries to retrieve it, leading him also to the big city -- São Paulo.

Macunaíma is a quick-fire tale, a tour through the jungle-depths and cultures -- indigenous and colonial -- of Brazil, covering both the natural (and the supernatural ...) world as well as urban modernity. As Andrade writes in his second preface to the novel: "Legend, history, tradition, psychology, science, national objectivity, the participation of adapted foreign elements all pass through it".

Macunaíma's experiences and adventures -- and there are very many of them -- often mirror or are variations on local tales and myths, especially of the Tupi. (In prefatory notes he prepared for the novel but never published Andrade goes so far as to suggest: "In the end, this book is no more than an anthology of Brazilian folklore".) There's also a constant engagement with colonial history -- with, for example, one chapter entirely in the form of a 'Letter to the Icamiabas' which, as translator Katrina Dodson explains in her endnotes, is clearly: "a parody of the founding document of Brazilian history -- scribe Pero Vaz de Caminha's 1500 letter to Portugal's King Manuel I recounting the "discovery" of Brazil".

Central to the novel is this idea of being 'without character' -- neither with moral character nor with 'set characteristics'. As Andrade explains in his first preface, he came to such a depiction because he finds that the Brazilian, in general, has no character:

He's just like a twenty-year-old kid: we might observe general tendencies more or less, but it's still not time to affirm anything whatsoever. I believe, optimistically, that it is from this lack of psychological character that we derive our lack of moral character. Hence our none-too-clever chicanery (the elasticity of our honor), the lack of appreciation for true culture, our improvisation, the lack of an ethnic sensibility in families. And, above all, an (improvised) existence living by our wits (?), while in the meantime a wildly imaginative delusion -- following the lead of Columbus as its figurehead -- searches this land with eloquent eyes for an El Dorado that can't possibly exist, amid cleaning rags and climates that are good and bad in equal measure, colossal hardships that can only be weathered with the frankness of accepting reality. It's ugly.

Macunaíma, and especially its hero, reflect this view very well, in Andrade's very creative portrayal.

Language -- or languages -- are also central to the novel, beginning with Andrade noting, at one point, that: "Macunaíma made the most of waiting around by honing his proficiency in the two languages of the land, spoken Brazilian and written Portuguese". Macunaíma is also full of indigenous term -- especially of flora and fauna, which often play a major role in the story -- and there is a great deal of dialect as well. The foreign enters too, if often playfully twisted -- not just Latin but, in Dodson's translation:

"Tell me something, do you speak Igpay Latin ?"

"Never heard of it !"

"Well the, my foe: Ogay eatay itshay !"

With all its language- and word-play, the book is clearly a great challenge to translate. Dodson's Afterword addresses this in some detail, including the interesting explanation of part of her approach:

One major challenge was figuring out how to convey Macunaíma's peculiar effect on Brazilian readers, for whom the novel feels alternately close to home and impenetrably foreign. My solution for approximating this correspondence was to make the translation seem irrevocably Brazilian and American at the same time. Just as Andrade "deregionalized" Brazil, I collapsed North and South America, displacing what we in the United States insist is the America. Macunaíma needs an American English translation because the novel is so deeply American.

With many of the terms -- especially the flora and fauna -- also left untranslated, as well as many references and allusions, Macunaíma does require annotation, and Dodson chooses to present it in the form of; "endnotes as chapter summaries with key terms in bold". These work reasonably well -- including the separate section at the end of many of the chapter-summaries focused specifically on the mentions of "Selected flora, fauna, and food" -- with Dodson arguing:

This format allows for the heady pleasure of reading the novel straight through, letting the music of unfamiliar words disorient you as Andrade intended, without the constant interruption of numbered footnotes droning like a swarm of mosquitoes.

Fair enough, though I must say I would have much preferred on-site footnotes, page after page, given just how much there is on each that is unfamiliar.

Fast-paced, raucous, and often raw, Macunaíma is also full of the beautifully surreal ("Then he turned Jiguê into a telephone machine, called up the giant and cursed his mother"). It's a whirlpool ride of a read, with its mix of Brazilian folklore, myths, and history, practically leaving one breathless. John Keene's Introduction, Dodson's Afterword, and Andrade's own prefaces help give a fairly good sense of all that Andrade tries and manages to do here, but it's still a lot to chew on and swallow.

Multifarious, and with a very dubious hero, Macunaíma is certainly a text of considerable interest -- and good, if often very strange fun, a fascinating take on national epic.- M.A.Orthofer

https://www.complete-review.com/reviews/brazil/andrade_macunaima.htm


Dodson, a PEN Award–winning translator of Clarice Lispector, breathes new life into this spirited modernist classic from Brazillian writer de Andrade (1893–1945), whose other translated works include Hallucinated City. A frequent refrain—“Ants aplenty and nobody’s healthy, so go the ills of Brazil!”—captures only a hint of the 1928 novel’s frenetic energy and satirizing humor. Over the course of hundreds of years, Macunaíma, a young man with ever-changing characteristics, travels with his brothers Jigue and Maanape from their homeland in the wild north of Brazil to the heart of São Paulo and back. Their mission is to retrieve a magical amulet, muiraquitã, from cannibal giant Venceslau Pietro Pietra. Along the way, de Andrade incorporates Indigenous Tupi and Pemon folklore, a West African Candomble religious ritual that allows people to communicate with deities, formal correspondence, popular vernacular, and continent-spanning botany. Macunaíma derives from an Indigenous Carib and Arawak shape-shifting trickster god, and de Andrade uses him as a blank canvas to explore Brazil’s mass of contradictions; he is at various times Black, white, and Indigenous; wild and urbane; comically officious and boorishly crude, and morally inconsistent. In other words, according to de Andrade, “quintessentially Brazilian.” Electrifying and perplexing, this cornerstone of Brazilian literature shouldn’t be missed. - Publishers Weekly


The novel follows a young man, Macunaíma, "a hero without a character," born in the Brazilian jungle and possessing strange and remarkable abilities (Mostly Shapeshifting), as he travels to São Paulo and back again. The protagonist is often considered a representation of the Brazilian personality. The novel employs a composite structure using elements of what would later be called magic realism and a number of dialects of both interior Brazil and São Paulo. It is based on Andrade's research in language, culture, folklore, and music of the indigenous peoples in Brazil.
Macunaíma was an attempt on the part of Andrade to write a novel which represented pan-Brazilian cultura and language.[citation needed]. The author desired to write Macunaíma in the spoken language of Brazil. Macunaíma's catch phrase "Ai, que preguiça!" is a pun in both Tupi language and Portuguese as "Ai" is a Tupi word for sloth and "preguiça" is Portuguese for sloth. This is an example of Andrade using a fused language to write this text, which begins with a simple description "In the depths of the virgin jungle was born Macunaíma, hero of our people. He was jet black and son of the fear of the night".
Considered a "rhapsody" by Andrade himself, Macunaíma is a melding of the cultures of Brazil. Most of the folk lore contained within the text is taken directly from native stories; Lucia Sá has shown that Andrade's novel draws heavily on the narratives of the Pemon people that were collected and recorded by Theodor Koch-Grünberg.[1]
In the tale, Macunaíma travels from his home tribe in the jungle to São Paulo and back again, with chase scenes that go all over the country of in between, in order to retrieve an amulet which he lost. The amulet had been given to him by his lover, Ci before she ascended into the sky to become a star. He encounters all sorts of folk legends and orixas along the way. The interactions which Macunaíma had with most of these characters was imagined by Andrade, though the essence of the folk lore remains true. - wikipedia


A beautiful Brazilian modernist novel in an incredibly well-achieved translation into English. This books exudes fantasy, colours, smells (and ants), without ever losing the sense of being part of a universal cultural history. The perfect antidote to the essentialism of magical realism. - Fernando Sdrigotti



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