Hour of the Star: Nonhaving or Having? (March 5)

A. First: A Surface-Level Reading

In “Hour of the Star,” Clarice Lispector introduces us to Macabéa, a Northeast Brazilian girl living in Rio de Janeiro’s slums. Through Rodrigo S.M., the narrator, we see not only Macabéa’s life but also a critique of the societal disregard she faces. Rodrigo’s musings, “[s]ee the northeastern girl looking in the mirror…in the mirror appears my weary and unshaven face. We’re that interchangeable” (Lispector 14), reveal Macabea’s invisibility. Rodrigo sketches Macabéa’s life as a cycle of basic survival, yet, Macabéa carves moments of identity, like painting her nails red, against a backdrop of neglect. Further, her interactions with fellow Northeasterner, Olímpico, exposes the contrast between their approaches to their identities. Olímpico de Jesus is determined to redefine his identity and move up in society. He calls himself a “metallurgist” (Lispector 36) to emphasize the class standing of his blue-collar career; he adds “Moreira Chaves” to his name even when “de Jesus” is the “name of those who have no father” (Lispector 36); and he leaves Macabéa for Gloria, who “was born and bred in Rio” meaning that she “made her belong to the longed-for clan from the South” (Lispector 50). Olímpico foils against Macabéa’s acceptance of her circumstances, shown in their conversation when she doesn’t “think [that she’s] people” (Lispector 39). Throughout the novel, Rodrigo describes Macabéa as robotic and inhuman as she “never broke her habits” (Lispector 18) and had “no consciousness of herself… [she] thought she was happy” despite her unfortunate situation (Lispector 60). Interestingly, Macabea’s dream of becoming a movie star and achieving a moment of glory is ironically fulfilled only in her death, where she becomes the center of attention. This moment, where “people sprouted in the alleyway out of nowhere and gathered around Macabea” (Lispector 71), grants her the visibility she never had in life.

B. A Deeper Analysis: Societal Reinforcement of the Visibility of People and the Idea of “Non-Having”

Rodrigo’s Role

At a glance, the story explores Macabéa’s perceived low self-esteem, highlighted through Rodrigo S.M.’s narration, which discusses her “shameful” life. A deeper dive reveals the societal pressures shaping Macabéa’s identity and her struggle for recognition within a system that consistently marginalizes her. Specifically, the narrator Rodrigo’s storytelling goes beyond mere recounting; he actually partakes in the societal oversight Macabéa endures. He explicitly comments on Macabéa’s lack of self-image, suggesting it is due to “shame because she’s modest or because she’s ugly” (Lispector 14). This observation by Rodrigo does more than depict Macabéa’s personal insecurities; it underscores how societal attitudes, influenced by factors like socio-economic status and gender, play a significant role in her self-alienation and the broader issue of her invisibility. Through Rodrigo’s narrative lens, we see how the narrator’s portrayal itself acts as a mechanism that perpetuates the systemic neglect Macabéa experiences. Further, Rodrigo portrays Macabéa as “liv[ing] in an impersonal limbo, without reaching the worst or the best. She just lives, inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling. Actually—why should she do anything more? Her existence is sparse.” (Lispector 15). Again, Rodrigo negatively reinforces Macabéa’s existence, suggesting she lives a life diminished to its barest essentials, where dreams and desires find little room to flourish. In contrast, I believe Macabéa does try to assert her identity—be it through engaging with advertisements to learn new facts or painting her nails red—standing as a quiet defiance against a society who belittles and disregards her. These are her attempts to construct a sense of self against a backdrop intent on diminishing her presence.

Nonhaving

The lecture’s discussion on the “story of ‘nonhaving'” (Beasley-Murray 6) helps us understand Macabéa’s story. This concept illuminates the challenge the narrator faces in presenting Macabéa’s life, a life so starkly defined by absence—of material possessions, of societal validation, of a coherent self-identity—that it escapes conventional comprehension. Rodrigo’s difficulty in crafting “an accurate and ethical portrayal” (Torres in Beasley-Murray 6) of Macabéa speaks to an ethical dilemma: how to articulate a life that defies the societal frameworks available to us. It highlights a persistent hesitation and doubt, not just in the act of narration but in the very attempt to understand a state of being so alien to Rodrigo’s own experiences and, by extension, to those of the wider society.

Professor Beasley-Murray’s insight adds another layer to this discussion, pointing to the dual nature of consumption in the construction of ourselves (4). He suggests that how we build our identities through available resources can simultaneously foster can lead to both self-making and self-erasure. From this perspective, Macabéa’s struggle could stem from her disengagement with societal consumption practices—practices that validate an individual’s societal status, practices eagerly embraced by Olímpico as he seeks to elevate his social standing. Yet, it’s crucial to question if Macabéa’s downfall is due to her non-consumption, or rather, if her hesitant attempts at self-invention—despite the external belittlement and societal marginalization—represent a form of resistance against an imposed invisibility given to her at birth. Contrary to the total erasure suggested by her socio-economic status and the narrator’s portrayal, Macabéa’s endeavors, though modest, signify her struggle against the societal forces that seek to deny her personhood. Her fascination with ads and the ritual of painting her nails red, acts that might seem trivial, are her ways of asserting a self in a world that refuses to acknowledge her. In light of this, one might argue that Macabéa’s life, as presented through the external gaze of the narrator and the societal context of her existence, is not merely a tale of “nonhaving” but also a critique of the societal and narrative structures that determine what having means. Indeed, Macabéa’s life of poverty is “unknown to most individuals and to which [we] cannot fully relate” (Torres in Beasley-Murray 6).

C. Conclusion 

I believe Macabéa’s story, and the struggle of the narrator to ethically and accurately capture her essence, underscores the limitations of our societal narratives in encompassing the full breadth of human experience, especially those lived on the margins of visibility and comprehension. Admittedly, I’m also uncertain if my interpretation of her story in this blog post is correct.

D. Questions for Discussion

Q: Do you think Macabéa was content with her life?

Q: How would you contrast Olímpico with Macabéa?