Clarice
Lispector’s work “The Daydreams of a Drunk Woman” is fraught with strings of
thoughts relating to the meaning of various states of existence. One of the
most prominent themes of these questions relate to what it means to be a woman unable
to fully delve into, or fully understand, their problems. The questions that arise from this dilemma are
partially answered by other questions. Which in turn spawns other questions
leading both the narrator and the reader further into an existential rabbit
hole. The most interesting facet of these questions is that they are never
directly addressed. Rather, they are stated matter-of-factly giving the
impression that the narrator isn’t overly concerned with solving their dilemma.
To put it into a metaphor the narrator prefers to place bandages on top of
other previous bandages instead of trying to sew the wound shut so it can heal.
In the end nothing is ever answered and all that remains is a large pile of
bandages over an open scab of bleeding, pus ridden thought.
Throughout
the work the narrator is continuously trying to understand herself, her
actions, and what the combination of the two creates. One of her usual methods
of attempting to understand herself this is through self-dialogue. Early in the
work, laying stomach down on the bed, she states, “‘Whosoever found, searched,’
she said to herself in the form of a rhymed refrain, which always ended up by
sounding like some maxim” (Lispector 1556). The inclusion of “which always” allows the
reader to know this isn’t a onetime occurrence. Rather than continuing to
ponder this line of thinking she decides sleep is a better option. She puts off
this exploration of self, places the bandage of sleep over it and drifts off
into unconsciousness.
Later
in the work we see her remove the bandages with alcohol. After imbibing some alcoholic
beverages she explores the surrounding restaurant with a drunkard’s keen gaze.
During her exploring she imagines herself more full of something. What that is
isn’t directly relayed but her thoughts speak of being somewhat superior to
everyone else in the establishment. The text writes, “she peered around the
room, and how she despised the barren people in that restaurant, while she was
plump and heavy and generous to the full” (1558). Among all of them it is only
her that has some fantastic insight into the inner workings of the world.
Through the
medium of intoxication she is capable of digging deeper into her
self-exploration and the exploration of the human experience. The alcohol works
as a tool to escape, if ever so briefly, from the limited realm of experience
in which she usually lives. The texts writes, “And everything in the restaurant
seemed so remote, the one thing distant from the other, as if the one might
never be able to converse with the other. Each existing for itself, and God
existing there for everyone” (1558). In this moment she seems to nearly find an
answer to all of her questions. Then the tentacles of human life wrap
themselves around the narrator once more, pulling her back into her box of
reality. It’s through viewing another woman that she returns back into the
normal mode of thought.
She becomes
jealous and angry toward woman with her boyfriend, not realizing that it is her
own self that she is angry with. It has nothing to do with the “pious ninny so
pleased with herself in that hat and so modest about her slim waistline”
(1559). The narrator finds strength in her ability to have given birth to a
child, and that her apparent curvy figure is indicative of pleasure. Nonetheless
the narrator wanders through the rest of the text unable to rip off all the
bandages and sew the wound shut.
Works Cited
Lispector, Clarice. “The
Daydreams of a Drunk Woman”. The Norton
Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third Edition, Two- Volume Set. W.W.
Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2012. 1555-1560. Print.
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