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Other in Aluísio Azevedo
The literary criticism of O cortiço produced before 1960 is largely digressive, and lacks clearly defined critical parameters.1 It touches on many tangential aspects of the novel, but leaves out some fundamental technical considerations. In this type of analysis, the text is often used merely as a medium through which non-literary concerns are articulated. Azevedo’s early critics seem more interested in history, biography, sociology, or politics than in literature. As a result, his fiction is made to appear to be of secondary importance, something that only illustrates background. Most of this criticism was written by Brazilians anxious to establish a distinct and recognizable critical literary tradition in their country. However, in their eagerness to demonstrate the relevance of Azevedo’s contribution to Brazilian letters, they failed to devote sufficient time to the text itself. Because of the sociopathological themes that recur in naturalistic fiction, some of these critics read Azevedo’s novels as sociological commentary. On that basis, they pronounced him a seer who did the motherland a great service by “prenunciando os problemas de nossa evolução social [predicting the problems of our social evolution].”2 While this patriotic overoptimism may have added to national pride, it contributed little to our understanding of Azevedo’s work qua literature.
Fortunately, this gap in Brazilian literary criticism is being filled by scholars such as Dorothy Loos, Antônio Cândido, Sônia Brayner, Affonso Romano de Sant’Anna, Flora Süssekind, and Rui Mourão.3 The first of these critics to analyze the work of Azevedo on aesthetic grounds and with clearly defined critical tools was Loos. Her brief but informative survey of the naturalistic novel of Brazil draws some important parallels between the French roman expérimental and Azevedo’s own adaptation and transformation of this model. Although the context of Loos’s study does not allow for a detailed examination of O cortiço, she nonetheless offers an illuminating reading of some relevant aspects of the novel. Other students of the naturalistic novel of Brazil who have since expanded on Loos’s analysis of O cortiço include Cândido, Brayner, Sant’Anna, Süssekind, and Mourão. Recent developments in literary theory and criticism have enabled these critics to go beyond traditional questions of biography and literary history as they examine form and structure in the text, and, in the case of the post-structuralists, as they probe the grounds of language itself. Mourão exemplifies this critical stance with one of the most lucid readings of the novel to date. By concentrating exclusively on O cortiço, and by drawing on a rich tradition in textual criticism (e.g., New Criticism, Formalism, Structuralism, and Post-Structuralism), Mourão produces a cogent and elegant interpretation of O cortiço.4 He develops his critique very closely to the text, always attentive to recurring structures and patterns. One of Mourão’s most enabling insights is the formulation of O cortiço as a novel structured around binary oppositions:
Nesse ir e vir, a narrativa acaba assumindo uma feição paralelística muito evidente, o que de saída deixa claro que Aluísio Azevedo encontrou a maneira correta de estruturação que deseja abordar O cortiço e o sobrado, a existência das camadas sociais mais inferiorizadas e das camadas burguesas com pretensões aristocratizantes. E, ao longo de todo o livro, vamos verificar que, além desses amplos blocos conjugados, o relato vai se desdobrar em elementos rigorosamente binários.5
In this ebb and flow, the narrative ends up taking on a parallelism that is quite evident, which makes it clear at the outset that Aluísio Azevedo had found the right way to structure and probe the relationship between [João Romão’s] tenement and [Miranda’s] mansion, between the existence of the scorned lower class and the bourgeoisie with its aristocratic pretentiousness. And throughout the book, we observe that besides these major interlinking groups, the plot unfolds according to strictly binary elements.
Mourão argues that these oppositions play a major role in the structure of the novel. He sees them at work in the relationships between Miranda and João Romão, Miranda’s mansion and João Romão’s tenement, and Jerônimo and Firmo. However, the critic is quick to point out that the parallelism between opposing characters or entities does not imply that the conflicting elements “se isolem em planos eqüidistantes. Ao contrário, o que existe . . . é um estado de permanente tensão e mútua agressão”6 [isolate themselves on equidistant planes. On the contrary, what exists . . . is a state of permanent tension and mutual aggression]. Even though Mourão’s reading of O cortiço does not formalize the system that gives rise to these binary oppositions, it is nonetheless a valuable and welcome contribution to the study of the naturalistic novel of Brazil. It allows for the grouping of different forms and states of rivalry and adds a new dimension to our understanding of Azevedo’s work. Note, for example, Mourão’s observations regarding the tension between Miranda and João Romão:
O palacete desejava se expandir com a incorporação de um quintal, enquanto a casa de cômodos sonhava poder se alastrar pelos fundos do primeiro. O muro que se levanta entre as propriedades, verificada a insuperabilidade do impasse, tem mais aparência de trincheira do que outra coisa. Encerrada a disputa em torno do terreno, a competição continuará em outro plano. Despeitado com a prosperidade de João Romão, Miranda se põe a lutar pelo título de barão, buscando desta forma suplantar o rival; espicaçado pela vitória do patrício . . . o rude proprietário dO cortiço procura o caminho de se requintar socialmente e parte para a conquista da filha do adversário, o que alcança.7
The mansion wanted to expand by acquiring a backyard, while the tenement house dreamed of widening its boundaries by invading its neighbor from behind. The wall that was built between the two properties, attesting to the insurmountability of the impasse, looked more like a war trench than anything else. With the dispute over the land concluded, the competition would continue in other areas. Resentful of João Romão’s prosperity, Miranda sets out to acquire the title of baron, seeking this way to outdo his rival; taunted by his neighbor’s achievement . . . the boorish tenement owner strives to refine himself socially and sets out to win over his rival’s daughter, which he eventually manages to do.
Mourão goes beyond the commonly held notion of linear desire and avarice as he probes the passions and obsessions at the heart of O cortiço. He sees more at work than the simple movement of a subject toward a desired object in the opposition between João Romão and Miranda or between Jerônimo and Firmo. Mourão is able to perceive certain external features of their harmful interaction and correctly foresees the conclusion that awaits all players in these adversarial relationships:
E no desdobramento das vicissitudes dessa divergência, o que prossegue se impondo é o mesmo esquema de oposições. Miranda e a esposa são adversários dentro de casa; como adversários acabam se revelando, na morada ao lado, João Romão e Bertoleza. Jerônimo e Firmo travam combate de morte. . . . Rita e Piedade também chegam a se atracar físicamente. . . . Mas dessa luta ninguém sairá vencedor ou vencido.8
As the sudden changes stemming from these differences unfold, what eventually is established is the same scheme of oppositions. Miranda and his wife are rivals at home, just as João Romão and his common-law wife Bertoleza prove to be rivals in the home next door. Jerônimo and Firmo engage in mortal combat. . . . Rita and Piedade also come to blows. . . . But from these struggles no one will come out victorious or defeated.
Still, Mourão never brings the origin and dynamics of this violent “esquema de oposições” [scheme of oppositions] under close scrutiny. No doubt, the critic is able to discern the overall picture of common passions and thwarted desires that provide the structure around which the action in O cortiço is developed. He translates this perception into an engaging and persuasive reading of the novel. However, even though the overall picture is there, the details of this vision remain blurred. On the one hand, Mourão identifies a major structural aspect of Azevedo’s novel and correctly points out that the narrative in O cortiço is developed around a scheme of oppositions based on the destructive rivalry of contending elements. On the other hand, however, he detracts from this insight by trying to accommodate a denouement that calls into question the very oppositions that he seeks to disclose and formalize with his analysis. To be sure, the oppositions discussed by Mourão are present in Azevedo’s work, and function as a major structural device in the narrative of O cortiço. However, the critic dismisses perhaps the most important and virulent of these oppositions because of a plot twist that cannot be accounted for in his reading, namely, the peaceful and uneventful reconciliation of the two rival neighbors, João Romão and Miranda. Consequently, Mourão suggests that the opposition João Romão-Miranda “se revela falsa” [proves false] in the end:
Mas as aparências iludem e naquele mundo de equilíbrio instável, onde a vida se desencadeia tumultuária e as composições e recomposições não cessam de se fazer, só aos poucos vão se definindo as partes de fato em oposição. João Romão assume longamente todas as características de grande adversário de Miranda, para afinal com ele terminar identificado. . . . A oposição João Romão-Miranda se revela falsa.9
But the appearances deceive, and in that world of unstable equilibrium, where life breaks out tumultuously and the arrangements and rearrangements never cease, only slowly do the parts in actual opposition become defined. Over time, João Romão [eventually] takes on all the characteristics of Miranda’s great adversary, only to be identified with him in the end. . . . The opposition João Romão-Miranda proves false.
As I have noted, Mourão makes a significant contribution to our understanding of Azevedo’s work. Yet, he fails to provide in his analysis of O cortiço textual evidence that might shed light on the network of opposing doubles that he discerns in the novel. In this chapter, I examine the origin and dynamics of this network and the role that it plays in Azevedo’s work.
Written according to a prescriptive model of the Zolaesque roman expérimental, O cortiço is ostensibly a novel about the struggle for survival among members of the lower class. As such, it is expected to focus on the forces that rule the physical and social environment or on the plight of the individual as he battles these forces. Critics such as Olívio Montenegro, José Osório de Oliveira, and Sérgio Milliet have argued that as a roman expérimental, O cortiço does not – indeed, should not – concern itself with the psychology of its characters.10 However, much of the novel’s appeal and structure is derived from the intrigues arising from the psychological dynamics of the many love triangles that pervade the work. These triangles figure prominently in O cortiço, and provide a medium through which the author articulates his particular conception of desire. Indeed, they are so pervasive that the novel could correctly be characterized – in the context of Girard’s theory of mimetic desire – as an inferno replete with doubles absorbed in a potentially lethal game of imitation and rivalry.
There are several triangles of mimetic desire in O cortiço around which the action in the novel is structured. The most important of these is the one formed by the owner of the tenement house, his wealthy neighbor, and the objects that one deems desirable to the other. Like most forms of desire, the reciprocal mediation that affects João Romão and Miranda is set into motion by considerations that appear to be both mundane and innocuous: Miranda wants to purchase a piece of land that João Romão refuses to sell. On the surface, this situation does not appear problematic. However, this ostensible simplicity is challenged by the manner in which Azevedo structures and develops João Romão’s relationship with his neighbor. Of the first encounter between the two, Azevedo writes:
O Miranda comprou o prédio vizinho a João Romão. A casa era boa; seu único defeito estava na escassez do quintal; mas para isso havia remédio: com muito pouco compravam-se umas dez braças daquele terreno do fundo. . . . Miranda foi logo entender-se com o Romão e propôs-lhe negócio. O taverneiro recusou formalmente.
Miranda insistiu.
– O Senhor perde seu tempo e seu latim! retrucou João Romão. Nem só não cedo uma polegada, como ainda lhe compro, se mo quiser vender, aquele pedaço que lhe fica ao fundo da casa!
– Isso é maldade de sua parte, sabe? . . . É que você éteimoso! . . . Creia que se arrepende de não me ceder o terreno! . . .
– Se me arrepender, paciência!
– Passe bem!
Travou-se então uma luta renhida e surda entre o português negociante de fazendas por atacado e o português negociante de secos e molhados.11Miranda bought the residence next to João Romão’s store. The house itself was good; the only drawback was its small backyard; but for this there was a remedy: with little money he could buy some twenty yards from that lot in the back. . . . Miranda went to talk business with João Romão at once, and proposed the deal to him. The innkeeper declined politely.
Miranda insisted.
– Sir, you are wasting your time and your words! replied João Romão. Not only will I not surrender one single inch [of my property], I will actually buy from you, if you are willing to sell, that piece of land in the back of your house.
– This is very mean of you, and you know it! . . . It’s that you are stubborn! . . . Believe me, you will regret not having sold me the lot! . . .
– If I regret it, that’s my problem.
– Good-bye!
After that, there ensued a vicious and silent struggle between the Portuguese fabric merchant and the Portuguese grocer.There is obviously a good deal more at stake here than a mere plot of land. The object of desire over which João Romão and his neighbor contend is not made attractive because of its inherent attributes (it probably has none). It becomes prized and wanted in the eyes of Miranda (the subject) because he believes it to be desired by someone else, namely, João Romão (the mediator). Thus, the main function of this apparently worthless piece of land is to link the two contending neighbors in a mimetic relationship. The uniqueness of this object is not to be found in the object proper, but it is rather a function of the position that it occupies in the mimetic triangle in relation to the subject and the mediator. As a result, both mediator and subject, especially as these are affected by double mediation, are able to shift their attention from one object to the other as they remain locked in a “luta renhida e surda” [vicious and silent struggle]. The objects change but the spatial metaphor of desire, the triangle, remains.
At this point in the novel, the roles of subject and mediator are played by Miranda and João Romão respectively. The triangle is maintained as the two neighbors go from squabbling over possession of the contested lot to wrangling over what the prospective buyer should do with his property. In the final stage of their strife, the two adversaries trade places, with João Romão on the offensive, trying to “comer-lhe [a Miranda] não duas braças, mas seis, oito, todo o quintal . . . até . . . entrar pelos fundos da casa” (19) [devour from Miranda’s property not only four yards, but twelve, sixteen, the entire backyard . . . until . . . he could invade his neighbor’s house from the rear].
The framework of triangular desire provides an enclosure in which subject and mediator are able to exchange places without causing any change in the structure itself. This is possible because of a state of affairs where the actions of one are mirrored and repeated in the moves of the other. The prospective buyer loses his attributes of pursuer to become a man on the defensive, liable to suffer a serious loss. His counterpart, meanwhile, quickly fills the vacated position and becomes the hunter. Miranda is obliged to retreat to his realm and build a wall, both real and imaginary, to protect his estate and himself from his neighbor. João Romão, on the other hand, becomes the consummate predator. His only concern now is “aumentar os bens” [to increase his possessions] by giving free reign to his greed, “apoderando-se, com os olhos, de tudo aquilo que ele não podia apoderar-se logo com as unhas” [seizing with his eyes all that which he could not immediately seize with his claws]. The roles have been reversed. The pursued becomes the pursuer and vice-versa:
[João Romão] resguardava [sua propriedade] soltando à noite um formidável cão de fila.
Este cão era pretexto de eternas resingas com a gente do Miranda, a cujo quintal ninguém de casa podia descer à noite sem correr o risco de ser assaltado pela fera.
– É fazer o muro! dizia João Romão . . .
– Não faço! replicava o outro. Se é questão de capricho, eu também tenho capricho! . . .
– Depois de tentar um derradeiro esforço para conseguir algumas braças do quintal do vizinho, João Romão resolveu principiar as obras da estalagem.
– Deixa estar, conversava ele na cama com a Bertoleza; deixa estar que eu ainda lhe hei de entrar pelos fundos da casa, se é que não lhe entre pela frente! Mais cedo ou mais tarde como-lhe, não duas braças, mas seis, oito, todo o quintal e até o próprio sobrado talvez!
E dizia isto com uma convicção de quem tudo pode e tudo espera de sua perseverança. . . .
Desde que a febre de possuir se apodereu dele totalmente, todos os seus atos, todos, fosse o mais simples, visavam um interesse pecuniário. Só tinha uma preocupação: aumentar os bens. . . . Aquilo já não era ambição, era uma moléstia nervosa, uma loucura, um desespero de acumular. . . . E seu tipo baixote . . . ia e vinha da pedreira para a venda . . . olhando para todos os lados, com o seu eterno ar de cobiça, apoderando-se, com os olhos, de tudo aquilo que ele não podia apoderar-se logo com as unhas (19).[João Romão] protected [his property] by unleashing at night a formidable guard dog. This dog was the cause of constant arguments with Miranda’s family because no one in his household could go down to their backyard at night without running the risk of being attacked by the savage beast.
– You’d better build a wall! João Romão would repeat . . .
– That I’ll not do! the other would reply. If it’s a question of being stubborn, I can also be stubborn! . . .
– After making one last effort to acquire a portion of his neighbor’s property, João Romão decided to start building his tenement house.
– Let it be, he would say to Bertoleza in bed; let it be, in the end I shall invade his house from the rear, or better yet, through the front door! Sooner or later I shall devour from Miranda’s property not only four yards, but twelve, sixteen, the entire backyard and even the mansion itself!
And he would say that with the conviction of a man who believed he could do anything, and who expected everything from his perseverance. . . .
Ever since the feverish frenzy to acquire possessions took total control of him, all his actions, no matter how simple, were motivated by money and profit. He had but one concern: to increase his possessions. . . . That was no longer just greed, it was a nervous disorder, a madness, a furious rage to amass wealth. . . . And the stocky innkeeper . . . would come and go from the stone quarry to his store . . . looking everywhere, with a constant air of avarice about him, seizing with his eyes all that which he could not immediately seize with his claws.Miranda starts out on his expansionist enterprise appearing to act upon genuine desire. However, an examination of his motives will show that this is not the case. The events that follow the above passage show that there is nothing spontaneous about Miranda’s desire. His insistent though foiled attempts to buy his neighbor’s property are determined by the imaginary desire that he attributes to his rival, the mediator. There is on the part of Miranda a faithful imitation of this imaginary desire. Indeed, his is a meticulous imitation, because everything about the desire that is copied, including its intensity, depends upon the desire that serves as model.12 Thus, the more adamant João Romão remains in not wanting to sell his property, the more insistent Miranda becomes in wanting to buy it. In the rival’s obstinacy not to sell, the subject sees a formidable obstacle that he believes to have been placed in his way on purpose. The obstacle makes the contested object all the more desirable to the subject but at the same time it serves to remind him of the malicious intent on the part of the mediator not to allow him to obtain what he wants. The subject reveres the model, and longs for what the model possesses or wants to possess. However, unable to fulfill his desire, the subject curses the mediator for standing in his way: “Voce é teimoso. . . . Isso é maldade de sua parte, sabe?” [You are stubborn. . . . This is very mean of you, and you know it!].
Although Miranda is more deeply affected than his neighbor, he is not the only one involved in the dance of mimetic desire outlined above. I purposefully use the term “dance” here to underscore the notion of a two-way interaction between the characters afflicted by internal mediation. The other partner in Miranda’s tragic choreography is his neighbor and rival, João Romão. At this point in their relationship, João Romão serves as the mediator who helps to determine which objects Miranda ought to pursue. But as the mediator, João Romão is far from being immune to the effects of mimetic desire. He cannot remain detached because the situation is one in which the mediator himself desires the object. João Romão wants the contested property, and he wants it just as passionately as his neighbor. At the outset of their conflict, it was the mediator’s desire (João Romão’s) that made the contested object appear so desirable to the subject (Miranda). But the situation has changed, and a state of relative equilibrium has been reached. The subject’s desire appears to affect the mediator just as profoundly as the mediator affected the subject before.
João Romão starts out as his neighbor’s mediator without fully understanding the role he plays. Furthermore, his inability to generate spontaneous desire ultimately leads to his acceptance of Miranda as his mediator. This complicates matters further. As a subject, João Romão copies the desire for material possessions and social status that he associates with his wealthy neighbor. By copying the desire of the subject whom he mediates, he is actually copying a copy of his own desire. With each cycle in the enclosed confines of internal mediation, this desire redoubles, affecting even more intensely those individuals in the mimetic triangle. Realizing that their desire is no longer entirely their own, the two neighbors cling even more forcefully to the objects and positions that they held before. They end up turning simple likes and dislikes into blind obsessions. Thus, what was for João Romão only a whim in the beginning is transformed into a violent passion. His unwillingness to sell his property grows as his neighbor’s insistence to buy it increases. Eventually, this unwillingness becomes a fixation of monstrous proportion. Now, not only does he refuse to sell Miranda his plot of land, he sets out to acquire his neighbor’s estate and usurp his privileged position in Carioca society. We now have a subject-mediator and a mediator-subject, a model-disciple and a disciple-model. Each imitates the other and at the same time looks on their counterpart as a cruel rival. There is very little that we can say of João Romão that is not equally true of Miranda. They are different, to be sure, but their differences are limited to outward appearance alone. They complement each other in their desires, dreams, and, most of all, in what they despise. They publicly show disdain for those objects associated with the Other with as much passion as they secretly admire their rival. There is between them a sterile opposition of contraries that becomes gradually more tragic and empty as their desires intensify.13
Azevedo conveys this reciprocity between the two mediator-subjects by means of a common type of discourse that João Romão and Miranda share. In a moment of soul-searching, Miranda describes and praises João Romão’s situation in life in much the same way that João Romão describes and praises Miranda’s. They see themselves as hapless men and, not surprisingly, use the same words to refer to their respective positions in life: they had both been “uma besta!” (22, 82) [a fool]. By having João Romão and Miranda repeat the same moves – psychologically, as they wrestle with their respective shortcomings, and verbally, as they voice these shortcomings in the text – the author creates a doppelgänger [double] effect. Accordingly, the same thought, utterance, or action can be realized in two distinct yet complementary ways by two different characters. This allows the reader to view and experience any one given passage from more than one angle. As a literary device, the concept of the doppelgänger may prove very useful to novelists in the practice of their craft. However, in order for such a device to be effective, a concession of sorts is required. The novelist must allow the doppelgänger characters to relinquish their individual identity. These characters surrender their individuality and the prerogative to choose once they become the double of each other. Like the main character in Cervantes’s Don Quijote, they allow someone else to choose for them. And like the tormented characters in Dostoyevsky’s Notes from the Underground, they bitterly resent the fact that it is the Other before them, their double and nemesis, who does the choosing.
In Maggie, the protagonist’s desire is based on external mediation. Maggie never gets close enough to her mediator to upset the harmony between the two. In O cortiço, the checks and balances guaranteed by distance are all but gone. The situation in Azevedo’s novel is typical of internal mediation, where any impulse on the part of either subject or mediator toward a desired object is translated into an impulse toward the Other. Any movement by either Miranda or João Romão is kept in check because these two individuals have a dual and mutually restraining effect on each other. They function both as the instigator of each other’s desire and as the obstacle that prevents the fulfillment of this desire.
By getting closer to the subject, the mediator opens up the possibilities for contact and rivalry, and in this way ensures the magnitude of the obstacle that they set in each other’s way. They are both caught in a double bind. On the one hand, they blame each other for their rivalry, and belittle everything that originates with the Other. On the other hand, however, they still desire in private the very objects that they deprecate in public. Miranda appears to have nothing but contempt for João Romão: “Aquele tipo! um miserável, um sujo, que não pusera nunca um paletó, e que vivia de cama e mesa com uma negra!” (22). [That good-for-nothing! a filthy wretch who had never worn a suit and tie in his entire life, and who lived, bed and board, with a black woman!]. But when Miranda is left alone to gather his thoughts, and has a chance to compare his neighbor’s situation to his own, this acrimonious contempt turns to admiration and envy:
Era ainda a prosperidade do vizinho o que lhe obsedava o espírito, enegrecendo-lhe a alma com um feio ressentimento de despeito.
Tinha inveja do outro, daquele outro português que fizera fortuna sem precisar roer nenhum chifre; daquele outro que, para ser mais rico tres vezes do que ele, não teve de casar com a filha do patrão ou com a bastarda de algum fazendeiro freguês da casa!
Mas então, ele, Miranda, que se supunha a última expressão da ladinagem e da esperteza . . . não passava afinal de um pedaço de asno comparado com o seu vizinho! . . .
– Fui uma besta! resumiu ele em voz alta. . . . A febre daquela inveja lhe estorricava os miolos.
Feliz e esperto era o João Romão! esse, sim, senhor! Para esse é que havia de ser a vida! . . . Filho da mãe, que estava hoje tão livre e desembaraçado como no dia em que chegou da terra sem um vintém de seu! esse, sim, que era moço e que podia ainda gozar muito. . . .
Fui uma besta! repisava ele sem conseguir conformar-se com a felicidade do vendeiro (22).It was his neighbor’s prosperity that tormented his spirit, darkening his soul with an ugly and bitter resentment.
He was envious of the other, of that other Portuguese who managed to get rich without having to kowtow to anyone; the other, who, in order to be three times richer than he, did not have to marry his boss’s daughter or the bastard child of some rich customer.
This meant that he, Miranda, who thought of himself as exceptionally shrewd . . . was really no more than a bumbling fool when compared to his neighbor.
– I was a fool! he said out loud. . . . His envy was like a fever, burning and consuming his entire self.
João Romão was the one who was fortunate and smart! Yes, sir! The best in life would be his. Remarkable! today he was as free as when he first arrived from Portugal without any money! He was still young and had his entire life ahead of him to enjoy.
I was a fool! Miranda would say repeatedly, unable to stomach the innkeeper’s happiness.Finding himself consumed with envy and in the middle of a sterile conflict from which he cannot voluntarily withdraw, Miranda tries to put some distance between himself and his rival. This feat, he reasons, could be accomplished by doing or acquiring something of preeminence. Consequently, in an attempt to outdo and distinguish himself from his neighbor, Miranda decides to acquire a title of nobility:
Foi da supuração fétida destas idéias que se formou no coração vazio do Miranda um novo ideal – o título. Faltando-lhe temperamento próprio para vícios fortes que enchem a vida de um homem; sem família a quem amar e sem imaginação para poder gozar com as prostitutas, o náufrago agarrou-se àquela tábua, como um agonizante, consciente da morte, que se apega a esperança de uma vida futura (23).
It was from the fetid suppuration of these ideas that a new objective took shape in Miranda’s empty heart – a noble title. He lacked the character required by those strong vices that play such an important role in the lives of some men; without a family to love and lacking the imagination needed to enjoy the company of prostitutes, Miranda, like a drowning man, clung to that last hope, agonizing against an impending death and fighting for the possibility of a life in the future.
Trying to distinguish himself from his rival at all costs only makes Miranda more like João Romão. At this point in the novel, João Romão does not want to acquire a title of nobility. However, like his wealthy neighbor, he does want to distinguish himself from his rival by assimilating the illusion of his superior difference. In this respect, they are very much alike, and as long as they carry on with their attempts to be superior and different from one another, they will ensure their imprisonment in a violent and futile reciprocity.
By acquiring a noble title, Miranda upsets the equilibrium in his relationship with João Romão. He manages to tip the scale of influence and prestige in his favor by distancing himself from his neighbor. The title, along with the aristocratic preeminence that it suggests, elevates Miranda above his rival and places even farther out of João Romão’s reach the objects of his desire. The distance and the obstacle keeping the two apart become even greater. Realizing that he has been left behind, the subject is bound to interpret this separation brought about by the mediator as evidence that the model considers himself too superior to have any dealings with him or to accept him as an equal. Therefore, it is not surprising that João Romão goes into a fit of rage over his neighbor's new exploit:
No outro dia a casa do Miranda estava em . . . festa (77).
O Barão, todo de branco . . . brilhantes no peito da camisa, chegava de vez em quando a uma das janelas . . . agradecendo para a rua . . . risonho, feliz, resplandecente (81).
João Romão via tudo isto com o coração moído (82).
Ele esse dia estava intolerante com tudo e com todos. . . . Nunca o tinham visto assim, tão fora de si, tão cheio de repelões; nem parecia aquele mesmo homem inalterável, sempre calmo e metódico.
E ninguém seria capaz de acreditar que a causa de tudo isso era o fato de ter sido o Miranda agraciado com o título de Barão.
Sim, senhor! Aquele taverneiro, na aparência tão humilde e tão miserável . . . invejava agora o Miranda, invejava-o deveras, com dobrada amargura do que sofrera o marido de Dona Estela, quando por sua vez o invejara a ele. . . .
Quando o vendeiro leu no "Jornal do Comércio" que o vizinho estava barão – Barão! – sentiu tamanho calafrio em todo o corpo, que a vista por um instante se lhe apagou dos olhos (79-80).The other day Miranda's household threw . . . a party [to celebrate his new title].
The baron, all dressed in white . . . with diamonds on his lapel, would periodically appear at one of the windows in his house . . . acknowledging [his admirers] in the street . . . smiling, contented, beaming with joy.
João Romão watched the whole spectacle with a crushed heart.
That day João Romão was in a very foul mood, arguing with everyone and everything. . . . They had never seen him like that, so irritable, so beside himself with anger; he didn't seem his former self, whom his tenants knew to be even-tempered, always calm and disciplined.
And nobody could suspect that the reason for João Romão's anger was the fact that Miranda had been granted the title of baron.
Yes, sir! That simple and scruffy-looking innkeeper . . . now was envious of Miranda, and very envious indeed, twice as envious as Dona Estela's husband had been of him in the past. . . .
When João Romão read in the "Jornal do Comércio" that his neighbor had been granted the title of baron – baron! – his entire body grew cold as he momentarily went blind [with resentment].However, this virulent display of envy does not prevent the owner of the tenement from showing genuine appreciation for the kind of life that his neighbor leads. João Romão evaluates his situation vis-à-vis Miranda's without any of the bitterness found in the above passage. The innkeeper's reflections can aptly be described as the mirror image of Miranda's own contemplations. The reciprocity between the two men is such that both João Romão and Miranda choose essentially the same terms to describe themselves:
Fora uma besta! . . . pensou de si próprio, amargurado: uma grande besta! . . . Pois não! por que em tempo não tratara de habituar-se logo a certo modo de viver, como faziam tantos outros seus patrícios e colegas de profissão? . . . Por que, como eles, não aprendera a dançar? e não freqüentara sociedades carnavalescas? e não fora de vez em quando à Rua do Ouvidor e aos teatros e bailes, e corridas e a passeios? . . . Por que não se habituara com as roupas finas, e com o calçado justo, e com a bengala, e com o lenço, e com o charuto, e com o chapéu, e com a cerveja, e com tudo que os outros usavam naturalmente? (82)
He had been a fool! . . . he thought of himself, embittered: a great fool! . . . Of course! why hadn't he tried to get used to a certain lifestyle, as all his fellow countrymen and business associates did? . . . Why hadn't he, like them, learned how to dance? frequented carnaval clubs? and gone on a regular basis to [the business district on] Ouvidor Street, and to the theater, and balls, to races, and social outings? . . . Why hadn't he purchased and enjoyed fine clothes, attractive shoes, a walking cane, a handkerchief, cigars, a hat, good beer, and everything else that other men used so naturally?
This secret admiration does not imply that the subject is willing to accept openly the judgment and influence of his mediator. On the contrary, even though João Romão yearns for the social status and respectability enjoyed by his wealthy neighbor, he sees in the mediator's desire for these things an obstacle that prevents him from attaining what Miranda already has. Accordingly, Miranda is unable to act out his role of model without also playing the role of obstacle. By possessing or coveting the objects that João Romão desires, Miranda shows his disciple the gates of paradise, and forbids him to enter with one and the same gesture. And João Romão, ever fascinated with his rival and the world that he represents, invariably sees in the mechanical obstacle put in his way proof of the ill will borne him. Far from declaring himself a faithful vassal, he thinks only of repudiating the bonds of mediation.14 Consider his reaction to Miranda's invitation for tea:
Quando João Romão entrou na venda . . . um caixeiro entregou-lhe um cartão do Miranda. Era um convite para ir lá ànoite tomar . . . chá.
O vendeiro, a princípio, ficou lisonjeado com o obséquio, primeiro desse gênero que em sua vida recebia; mas logo depois voltou-lhe a cólera com mais ímpeto ainda. Aquele convite irritava-o como um ultraje, uma provocação. "Por que o pulha o convidara, devendo saber que ele decerto lá não ia? . . . Para que, se não para enfrenisiar ainda mais do que já estava?! . . . Seu Miranda que fosse à tábua com a sua festa e com os seus títulos!"
– Não preciso dele para nada! . . . exclamou o vendeiro. Não preciso, nem dependo de nenhum safardana! (84-85)When João Romão entered the store . . . one of his clerks handed him a letter from Miranda. It was an invitation for him to join them for . . . tea that evening.
Initially the grocer felt flattered because of Miranda's invitation, the very first such request he had ever received; but soon afterwards his anger took control of him again, this time even more violently. That invitation goaded him as would an insult or a provocation from an enemy. Why had that good-for-nothing invited him, knowing for sure that he wouldn't accept the invitation? . . . Why, if not only to taunt him even more than he had already done?! . . . Miranda could go to hell with his parties and his titles!"
– I don't need him for anything! . . . shouted the grocer. I don't need nor depend on any scoundrel.Yet, the bonds of mediation are stronger than ever, because the mediator's apparent hostility does not diminish his prestige but instead increases it.15 The above display of contempt for the mediator does little to preclude the subject from imitating the rival, as we see in this passage:
Desde que o vizinho surgiu como o baronato, o vendeiro transformava-se por dentro e por fora a causar pasmo. Mandou fazer boas roupas e aos domingos refestelava-se de casaco branco e de meias, assentado defronte da venda, a ler jornais. Depois deu para sair a passeio, vestido de casimira, calçado e de gravata. . . . Já não era o mesmo lambuzão! E não parou aí: fez-se sócio de um clube de dança . . . começou a usar relógio e cadeia de ouro . . . principiou a comer com guardanapo . . . entrou a tomar vinho [especial], passou a receber . . . romances franceses traduzidos, que o ambicioso lia de cabo a rabo, com uma paciência de santo, na doce convicção de que se instruia. . . . E em breve o seu tipo começou a ser visto com freqüência na Rua Direita, na praça do comércio e nos bancos, o chapéu alto derreado para a nuca e o guarda-chuva debaixo do braço (103-104).
After his neighbor acquired the title of baron, the grocer underwent an amazing transformation, inside and out. He custom-ordered fine clothes for himself, and on Sundays he would relax, wearing a white jacket and socks, sitting in front of his store and reading the newspaper. Later, he started taking long walks, and he would put on his best woolens, fine shoes and a tie. . . . He was no longer the same scruffy and careless dresser! And his transformation didn't stop there: he joined a dancing club . . . began using a gold watch . . . took to eating with a napkin . . . and drinking [premium] wine, and began receiving . . . French novels translated into Portuguese, which he eagerly read from front to cover, with the patience of a holy man, convinced that he was educating himself. . . . And soon he started to be seen on a regular basis on Direita Street, in the business centers and at the banks, sporting a hat and with an umbrella under his arm.
Under the mediator's influence and following his cues, João Romão undergoes a remarkable transformation. He becomes increasingly more like his aristocratic neighbor, engaging in social practices and acquiring habits that he believes to be evidence of refinement and good taste. With João Romão's metamorphosis, there comes about between the two neighbors a reconciliation of sorts. After the owner of the tenement has successfully bridged the gap that his neighbor's noble title had created, Miranda relinquishes his position as mediator to play the role of subject. Once again, he is mediated by his counterpart:
O Miranda tratava-o já de outro modo, tirava-lhe o chapéu, parava risonho para lhe falar quando se encontravam na rua, e às vezes trocava com ele dois dedos de palestra à porta da venda. Acabou por oferecer-lhe a casa e convidá-lo para o dia de anos da mulher, que era daí a pouco tempo (104).
Miranda began treating [João Romão] differently. He would greet him by taking off his hat, and would stop, smiling, to talk to him whenever they ran into each other on the street, and sometimes he would engage [his neighbor] in lively conversation at the door of João Romão's store. Finally, [Miranda] invited [João Romão] over to his house, and asked him to come to his wife's birthday party, which would take place in a few days.
The two have now traveled full circle, returning to the initial configuration of their mimetic relationship. Now, João Romão shines and decrees while Miranda accepts his influence, and obligingly makes the mediator's likes and dislikes manifest in his own life:
O Miranda escutava [João Romão] calado, fitando-o com respeito.
– Você é um homem dos diabos! disse afinal, batendo-lhe no ombro. . . .
Trazia uma grande admiração pelo vizinho. O que ainda lhe restava da primitiva inveja transformou-se nesse instante num entusiasmo ilimitado e cego.
– É um filho da mãe! resmungava ele pela rua, em caminho do seu armazém. É de muita força! (131)Miranda listened to [João Romão] without saying a word, only gazing at him with great respect.
– You're a remarkable man! he said finally, tapping João Romão on his shoulder. . . .
He had developed a great admiration for his neighbor. What remained of his erstwhile envy had been transformed into blind and boundless enthusiasm.
– He's an extraordinary man! he would mutter on his way to João Romão's store. He has so much energy!Given the new variables now at work in the game, the old setup between the two neighbors will not likely remain as uneventful and pleasant as Miranda seems to want. The preservation of the status quo, where a balance of power and influence favorable to Miranda is maintained, seems to be wishful thinking entertained by Miranda alone. João Romão has different plans for both himself and his neighbor. He views the rapprochement between the two in a completely different light than Miranda does. As a mediator-subject still very much intent in outdoing his rival, he has but one thing on his mind – he wants to be better and to have more than Miranda:
Com lembrar-se da sua união com [a filha do Miranda] um largo quadro de vitórias rasgava-se defronte da desensofrida avidez da sua vaidade. . . . Fazia-se membro de uma família tradicionalmente orgulhosa . . . aumentava consideravelmente os seus bens com o dote da noiva, que era rica e . . . afinal, caber-lhe-ia mais tarde tudo o que o Miranda possuia, realizando-se deste modo um velho sonho que o vendeiro afagava desde o nascimento de sua rivalidade com o vizinho.
E via-se já na brilhante posição que o esperava: uma vez de dentro, associava-se logo com o sogro e iria pouco a pouco . . . o empurrando para o lado, até empolgar-lhe o lugar e fazer de si um verdadeiro chefe da colônia portuguesa no Brasil; depois . . . tome lá alguns pares de contos de réis e passe-me para cá o título de visconde. . . .
Ah! ele . . . sustentava de si para si nos últimos anos o firme propósito de fazer-se um titular mais graduado que o Miranda (145-146).Reflecting on his union with [Miranda's daughter] and moved by greed and vanity, João Romão envisioned a vast sequence of accomplishments for himself. . . . He would join a family of traditional pride and social standing . . . he would substantially increase his possessions with the dowry of the bride, who was very rich, and . . . finally, he would later inherit everything that Miranda owned, realizing this way the old dream that the grocer had nurtured ever since his rivalry with his neighbor began.
And he could already picture himself in the magnificent position that awaited him: once inside [Miranda's family], he would become his father-in-law's business partner and little by little . . . he would shove him aside, until he could take his place, thus becoming the real leader of the Portuguese immigrant colony in Brazil; later . . . by bribing the right official, he would acquire the title of viscount.
In the last few years, João Romão had secretly and steadfastly sustained the objective of acquiring a title of higher ranking than Miranda's.In his dual role as mediator and subject, João Romão continues to be mediated by Miranda. He desires to possess what his rival already has and he does not. He yearns for the social status, respectability, and aristocratic ranking that he associates with his nemesis. Clearly, one should not take the relatively uneventful denouement in O cortiço to be an indication of the absence of virulence in the relationship between the two neighbors. Neither should one view it as an implied assertion on the part of the author that everything will eventually end peacefully between the two rivals. Even if the ending in O cortiço is not as violent and final as that in Maggie, we are still allowed some revealing glimpses into the "febre" [feverish frenzy], the "loucura" [madness], and "desespero" [furious rage], that afflicts both neighbors. The way in which this "moléstia nervosa" [nervous disorder] works itself out in rivalry, conflict, and destruction suggests what kind of conclusion one might expect from this mimetic relationship. Their affair is left largely unresolved. It lacks anything resembling a clearly defined resolution. Miranda is happy with the status quo that he has managed to attain vis-à-vis his future son-in-law. João Romão, however, is already busy scheming new ways to outdo Miranda and usurp his privileged place in society, maybe even have him killed. Given the principles under which mimetic desire operates, and that the possibility of a violent denouement is clearly articulated in the text, one cannot expect the resolution between these two to be anything but disastrous. The likelihood of a mutually destructive conclusion is conveyed in the language that Azevedo uses to describe João Romão's intended usurpation of Miranda's place in society:
Mais cedo ou mais tarde como-lhe . . . todo o quintal e até o próprio sobrado. [João Romão] dizia isto [possuido de] um desespero de acumular . . . com o seu eterno ar de cobiça, apoderando-se, com os olhos, de tudo aquilo que ele não podia apoderar-se logo com as unhas (19).
Iria pouco a pouco . . . empurrando [o sogro] para o lado, até empolgar-lhe o lugar (145).Sooner or later I shall devour [Miranda's] entire backyard and even the mansion itself! [João Romão] said that repeatedly, [possessed by] a furious rage to amass wealth . . . with a constant air of avarice about him, seizing with his eyes all that which he could not immediately seize with his claws.
He would gradually shove [his father-in-law] aside, until he could take his place.Certain terms in the above passage convey in vivid detail the magnitude of the havoc that the two mediator-subjects are bound to wreak upon each other. "O sobrado" [Miranda's mansion] can be interpreted as a surrogate of the owner himself, thus revealing the anthropophagic dimension of the verb "comer" [to eat, devour]. "Apoderar-se com as unhas" [to seize with one's claws] suggests an act of usurpation in which the desired object is ravaged. "Empurrar" [to shove aside] implies the application of force against someone in order to move the individual away from a privileged position in life, possibly toward abandonment and death. "Empolgar-lhe o lugar" [to take one's place] denotes the forcible taking of one's position in society. This could be attained either by having the person killed or, as with cannibals, by physically consuming the individual, thereby appropriating, in a literal sense, the victim's strengths and qualities. Moreover, a brutal denouement is virtually ensured because João Romão's intended victim is bound to copy whatever schemes the mediator concocts and puts into action. In the violent reciprocity of internal mediation, any attempt on the part of one of the mediator-subjects to destroy the other will inevitably be realized as the destruction of both.
The dynamics at work in the mimetic opposition that pits João Romão against Miranda are projected and reproduced in the interaction between the sobrado (Miranda's mansion) and the cortiço (João Romão's tenement). The mansion and the tenement are depicted by Azevedo in much the same way that he portrays the men and women in his novel. The two dwellings are part of the environment, and as such they are supposed to have power over the other characters. However, as Massoud Moisés points out, "não se trata apenas do poder do 'meio' sobre as pessoas; é considerar esse 'meio' como outra entidade além da que as personagens compõem, interferindo na ação com sua presença forte e dominadora."16 [It is not merely a question of the power of the "environment" over people; we must consider this "environment" as another entity, in addition to that which the characters make up, which shapes the action with its powerful and overwhelming presence].
Azevedo is particularly skilled at depicting the physical and social environment as if he were dealing with individual characters. By treating both the tenement and the mansion as characters subject to the same mimetic influence affecting the men and women in his novel, the author derives from their interaction an effect similar to that produced in the relationship between João Romão and Miranda. To be sure, the individuals who constitute the sobrado and the cortiço are not affected by mimetic desire to the degree that João Romão and Miranda are. Still, they follow the same basic moves that their landlords go through in their own game of internal mediation. Like Miranda, his family and the other residents of his mansion yearn for the freedom, excitement, and sensuousness that they associate with life in the tenement. Zulmirinha, Miranda's only daughter, embodies the least attractive qualities of the sobrado:
[Ela] crescia muito pálida e precisava de largueza para enrijar e tomar corpo (16).
Era o tipo acabado da fluminense; pálida, magrinha . . . respirava o tom úmido das flores noturnas, uma brancura fria de magnólia; cabelos castanho-claros, mãos quase transparentes (23).She looked anemic, and needed space and fresh air to grow healthy and strong.
She was a frail and tired-looking native of Rio de Janeiro; pale, skinny . . . like a fragile and clammy nocturnal flower, she had a whiteness as cold as that of a magnolia; her hair was light brown, and her hands were almost translucent.The cortiço, by contrast, is described in lusty and vibrant terms:
As casinhas dO cortiço, a proporção que se atamancavam, enchiam-se logo, sem mesmo dar tempo a que as tintas secassem. . . . E naquela terra encharcada e fumegante, naquela umidade quente e lodosa, começou a minhocar, a esfervilhar, a crescer, um mundo, uma coisa viva, uma geração, que parecia brotar espontânea, ali mesmo, daquele lameiro, e multiplicar-se como larvas no esterco. . . . Durante dois anos O cortiço prosperou de dia para dia, ganhando forças, socando-se de gente. E ao lado o Miranda assustava-se inquieto com aquela exuberância brutal de vida, aterrado defronte daquela floresta implacável que lhe crescia junto da casa, por debaixo das janelas, e cujas raízes piores e mais grossas do que serpentes, minavam por toda a parte, ameaçando rebentar o chão em torno dela, rachando o solo e abalando tudo (20-21).
As soon as they finished building additional houses in the tenement, these were snatched up immediately, with the tenants hardly waiting for the paint to dry. . . . And in that wet and steamy soil, in that warm and humid mire, there began to stir, to teem, to grow forth, a world, something alive, a generation that seemed to sprout spontaneously, right then and there, from that swamp, and to multiply like maggots in manure. . . . In the space of two years, the tenement prospered from day to day, gaining strength, stuffing itself with people. And beside [João Romão's grocery store], Miranda grew frightened. That brutal exuberance of life troubled him. He was terrified by the forest that now thrived and expanded inexorably right next to his mansion, under the windows, and whose roots, more loathsome and thicker than serpents, spread everywhere, threatening to crack open the ground all around him, shattering the floor and disturbing everything.
When the residents of the sobrado find themselves face to face with the things that they desire, instead of being drawn to them, they pull back. They react this way because they cannot accept, at least not openly, an object designated or possessed by the rival. Consider, for instance, Miranda's reaction to the thriving "voluptuoso mundo" [voluptuous world] of João Romão's tenement.
O Miranda rebentava de raiva.
– Um cortiço! exclamava ele, possesso. Um cortiço! Maldito seja aquele vendeiro de todos os diabos! Fez-me um cortiço debaixo das janelas! . . . Estragou-me a casa, o malvado! (20)
À noite e aos domingos ainda mais recrudescia o seu azedume, quando ele, recolhendo-se fatigado do serviço, deixava-se ficar estendido numa preguiçosa, junto à mesa da sala de jantar, e ouvia, a contragosto, o grosseiro rumor que vinha da estalagem numa exalação forte de animais cansados. Não podia chegar àjanela sem receber no rosto aquele bafo quente e sensual, que o embebedava com o seu fartum de besta no coito (22).Miranda became livid with anger.
– A tenement! he would shout furiously. A tenement! Damn that grocer! He built a tenement right under my window! . . . He ruined my home, that scoundrel!
At night and on Sundays his exasperation would intensify, when he, coming home fatigued from work, would lie down in a chaise longue next to the dinner table, and would be forced to listen to the crude sounds coming from João Romão's tenement, [sounds that resembled] the forceful panting of tired animals. He could not approach the window without being struck in the face with that steamy and sensual exhalation, a stench of animals in heat that intoxicated and overwhelmed him.Even if the subject of desire (the mansion) does not publicly acknowledge the influence of the mediator (the tenement), it does not follow that the model's power is neutralized. The subject's overt disdain for the things associated with the mediator is the reverse reflection of a secret and equally passionate admiration for the rival. A tragic opposition of contraries is ensured as long as the subject continues to covet and reject, in one and the same move, those things deemed desirable by the mediator. In the condition of mediator-subject, the cortiço, like its proprietor, plays a dual role in its relationship with the sobrado. The tenement mediates and at the same time it is mediated by the mansion. The men and women in João Romão's tenement yearn for the social status and respectability that they lack. By taking cues from the model, the tenement ends up pursuing goals that put it on a collision course with the mediator. On the one hand, the cortiço becomes more like the sobrado:
Mas O cortiço ja não era o mesmo; estava muito diferente; mal dava idéia do que fora (140).
Já lá não se admitia assim qualquer pé-rapado: para entrar era preciso carta de fiança e uma recomendação especial. Os preços dos cômodos subiam, e muitos dos antigos hóspedes . . . iam, por economia, desertando . . . e sendo substitutidos por gente mais limpa. . . . O cortiço aristocratizava-se (153).The tenement was no longer the same; it had changed a lot; it hardly resembled the way it was before.
Now, the poor tenants were not so easily admitted: in order to rent a house, they needed references and a deposit. The rent had gone up, and many of the former tenants . . . who had to leave in order to save money . . . were being replaced by people with more resources. . . . The tenement was moving up the social ladder.On the other hand, however, the tenement never stops looking for ways to outdo and supplant its model and adversary. As the two rivals strive to realize their individual goals – keeping, as a result, each other in check – the tension that has permeated the relationship from the outset threatens to erupt in violence. Therefore, it does not come as a surprise that Azevedo should choose to use terms of warfare such as "recuar" [to retreat], "perseguir" [to pursue, hound], "batalhão" [battalion], and "triunfante" [triumphant] to describe the situation into which the sobrado is pushed by its less aristocratic counterpart:
O prédio do Miranda parecia ter recuado alguns passos, perseguido pelo batalhão de casinhas da esquerda, e agora olhava a medo, por cima dos telhados, para a casa do vendeiro, que lá defronte erguia-se altiva, desassombrada, o ar sobranceiro e triunfante (141).
It looked as though Miranda's mansion had retreated a few steps, hounded by the battalion of little tenement houses on the left, and now, frightened, it stared over the roofs at the grocer's home, which farther down the street loomed proud, undaunted, confidently flaunting its triumph.
However, as in the hostile exchange between Miranda and João Romão, the same sobrado that now finds itself pulling back as it is hounded by its rival will eventually trade places with its pursuer. The distinguishing characteristic of internal mediation is its ability to create situations in which the actions of one of the rivals are faithfully copied by the other. Consequently, whatever one decides to do to the other, in the end this action will invariably be realized as the common fate of both partners. By alternating places and by pursuing a course of action where each of the mediator-subjects is "perseguido" [pursued, hounded] and has to "recuar a medo" [retreat in fear], the mansion and the tenement ensure a conclusion to their affair just as violent as that which the text suggests for João Romão and Miranda.
The grim denouement hinted at in the oppositions between João Romão and Miranda and between the sobrado and cortiço is fully realized in the mimetic relationship between Jerônimo, Firmo, and Rita Baiana. These three characters form another major triangle of mimetic desire in O cortiço. Along with the two that I have already discussed, this love triangle serves as the focus of complication and intrigue around which a good part of the action in the novel is developed. Jerônimo functions as a double of Firmo in much the same way that João Romão enacts his role as Miranda's doppelgänger. In both cases, there is much more at work than the simple juxtaposition of opposing characters. The doubles share an organic reciprocity that goes beyond the mere weighing of shared similarities and differences. They complement each other physically and psychologically by sharing a mimetic desire that works itself out in conflict, rivalry, and death. From the day Jerônimo appears at João Romão's tenement, the fates of the Portuguese immigrant, Jerônimo, and the Brazilian malandro [rogue, con artist], Firmo, become entwined. On the physical level, they are depicted as having exact opposite traits. Note Azevedo's description of Jerônimo:
um português de seus trinta e cinco a quarenta anos, alto, espadaúdo, barbas ásperas . . . pescoço de touro e cara de Hércules, na qual os olhos todavia, humildes como os olhos de um boi de canga, exprimiam tranqüila bondade (35).
a Portuguese man of about thirty-five to forty years of age, tall, with broad shoulders, coarse beard . . . a very thick neck and the face of a Hercules. His eyes, gentle like those of an ox, radiated tranquility and kindness.
In contrast, Firmo, because he embodies entirely different physical attributes, negates and at the same time complements those of his doppelgänger:
Era um mulato pachola, delgado de corpo e ágil como um cabrito; capadócio de marca, pernóstico, só de maçadas, e todo ele se quebrando nos seus movimentos de capoeira. Teria seus trinta e tantos anos, mas não parecia ter mais de vinte e poucos. Pernas e braços finos, pescoço estreito . . . não tinha músculos, tinha nervos. A respeito de barba, nada mais que um bigodinho crespo, petulante (49).
Pulou à arena o Firmo, ágil, de borracha, a fazer coisas fantásticas com as pernas, a derreter-se todo, a sumir-se no chão, a ressurgir inteiro com um pulo, os pés no espaço, batendo os calcanhares, os braços a querer fugir-lhe dos ombros, a cabeça a querer saltar-lhe [do corpo] (56-57).He was a conceited mulatto, skinny and nimble as a goat; an incorrigible crook, arrogant, always making a nuisance of himself. He walked with a swagger, moving to the rhythms of capoeira [Afro-Brazilian martial art]. He was a little over thirty years of age, but he looked as though he was in his twenties. His legs and arms were very slender, he had a thin neck . . . and sinewy nerves instead of muscles. He had no beard, only a coarse, petulant little moustache.
Firmo joined in the dancing, agile and supple as if made of rubber, doing incredible things with his legs, melting and disappearing into the ground, then jumping back on his feet and reappearing whole again. He would kick into the air, click his heels, and swing his arms and head as if they were about to be torn [from his body].Jerônimo and Firmo are opposites who form what Wilma Newberry calls a "complementary completive pair."17 This synergetic opposition becomes apparent in the scene in which the two men fight over Rita Baiana. Here, the physical persona of each rival is defined negatively vis-à-vis the other. It is as though they are each other's reverse mirror image:
E, no meio da grande roda, iluminados amplamente pelo capitoso luar de abril, os dois homens perfilados defronte um do outro, olhavam-se em desafio.
Jerônimo era alto, espadaúdo, construção de touro, pescoço de Hércules, punho de quebrar um coco com um murro: era a força tranqüila, o pulso de chumbo. O outro, [Firmo], franzino, um palmo mais baixo que o português, pernas e braços secos, agilidade de maracajá: era a força nervosa; era o arrebatamento que tudo desbarata no sobressalto do primeiro instante. Um sólido e resistente; o outro, ligeiro e destemido, mas ambos corajosos (86).And in the middle of that big circle, lit up by a bright and intoxicating April moon, the two men faced each other defiantly.
Jerônimo was tall, with broad shoulders, built like a bull, with the neck of a Hercules, and fists strong enough to crack open a coconut with a single blow: he represented calm, strength, and firm resolve. The other [Firmo], was thin and a little shorter than the Portuguese; he had slender arms and legs, and possessed the agility of a wildcat: he was high-strung, powerful, explosive, and in the habit of overcoming his enemies by surprise. One was robust and strong, the other was quick and bold, and both were equally courageous.This conflictive complementarity on the physical level is reproduced on other levels as well. Jerônimo's industriousness and discipline – "Era tão metódico e tão bom trabalhador quanto o era como homem" (41) [He was as conscientious and diligent a worker as he was a man] – are highlighted and at the same time kept in check by his nemesis. The malandro's indolence complements and negates Jerônimo's qualities: "[Firmo] era oficial de torneiro, oficial perito e vadio; [o que] ganhava [em] uma semana . . . gastava num dia." (49) [Firmo worked as a lathe operator. He was an expert in his trade and in the art of loafing; what he earned in one week . . . he spent in a day]. The object that brings Jerônimo and Firmo together is a woman, Rita Baiana, whose attractiveness may be construed by the casual reader as the major factor behind their rivalry. Rita is described by Azevedo as a sensual and desirable woman:
Toda ela respirava o asseio das brasileiras e um odor sensual de trevos e plantas aromáticas. Irrequieta, saracoteando o atrevido e rijo quadril baiano, respondia para a direita e para a esquerda . . . com um realce fascinador (45).
[Rita] saltou em meio da roda [de samba], com os braços na cintura, rebolando as ilhargas e bamboleando a cabeça . . . como numa sofreguidão de gozo carnal, num requebrado luxurioso que a punha ofegante . . . a tremer toda, como se fosse afundando num prazer grosso que nem azeite. . . . Depois [vergava] as pernas, descendo, subindo, sem nunca parar com os quadris, e em seguida sapateava, miúdo e cerrado freneticamente, erguendo e abaixando os braços, que dobrava . . . sobre a nuca, enquanto a carne lhe fervia toda, fibra por fibra, titilando (56).Like other Brazilian women, she kept herself clean and well-groomed, and exuded a sensual odor of aromatic herbs. Restless, always swinging her firm and saucy hips, she would sway rhythmically to the left, then to the right . . . with fascinating charm.
[Rita] jumped into the circle of samba dancers, her hands at her waist, her head and hips moving wildly, as if she were in the throes of an orgasm. Her body convulsed so deliriously that she soon grew exhausted . . . trembling all over, absorbed in a carnal pleasure as sweet and thick as honey. . . . Then she would bend her legs, bringing them up and down, always swinging her hips, and afterwards she would tap-dance, fast and frantic, raising and lowering her arms around her neck while her entire body burned with desire.In a linear reading of the affair between Jerônimo, Firmo, and Rita Baiana, one could argue that the source of desire is the object herself. However, such a reading would leave too many questions unanswered. Certain fundamental changes in the participants in this love triangle prove too relevant and pervasive to be explained in terms of a desire based on subject and object alone. Jerônimo undergoes a slow but profound transformation from a conscientious and hard-working newcomer into the consummate malandro. Firmo, on the other hand, develops a fierce jealousy over a woman whom the author describes as merely one among his many lovers and who apparently is not his favorite. The abnormal passion that consumes both Jerônimo and Firmo stems neither from Rita's attributes nor from the spontaneity that the subject (Jerônimo) is presumed to enjoy. This transfiguring desire is a function of the influence that the subject and the mediator have on each other.
As the subject of desire (Jerônimo) surrenders his freedom of choice, he allows the mediator to designate for him what objects should be pursued. Of course, the most conspicuous and attractive of all objects associated with the mediator (Firmo) is his lover, Rita Baiana. To Jerônimo, she embodies both the appeal of the new land and the negation of the old world that he left behind:
Naquela mulata estava o grande mistério, a síntese das impressões que ele recebeu chegando aqui: ela era a luz ardente do meio-dia; ela era o calor vermelho das sestas da fazenda; era o aroma quente dos trevos e das baunilhas, que o atordoara nas matas brasileiras; era a palmeira virginal e esquiva que não se torce a nehuma outra planta; era o veneno e era o açúcar gostoso (57).
That black woman held the answer to a great mystery. She was the synthesis of his first impressions as he arrived [in Brazil]: she was the blazing light of a midday sun; the red heat of an afternoon siesta in the countryside; the warm smell of clovers and vanilla trees, which had overwhelmed him in the local forests; she was the pristine and evasive palm tree that does not bend to any other tree; she was at once poisonous and deliciously sweet.
In order to fulfill his desire and enjoy Rita's favors, Jerônimo is forced to undergo a profound transformation. This metamorphosis requires him to relinquish his erstwhile qualities before he can usurp those of the mediator. He eventually accomplishes his goal, but only over an extended period of time in which he gradually becomes more like Firmo and less like his former self. The first changes occur in the domestic sphere. He starts out by giving preference to the food, drinks, and music favored by Firmo and Rita Baiana:
Jerônimo já nunca pegava na guitarra senão para procurar acertar com as modinhas que a Rita cantava (69).
Tomava agora, todas as manhãs, uma xícara de café bem grosso, à moda da Ritinha (66).Jerônimo now took up his guitar only to play melodies that Rita liked to sing.
Every morning he drank a cup of thick espresso, having been introduced to it by his darling Rita.Later, Jerônimo grows less industrious as he becomes more infatuated with Rita Baiana. His entire life eventually changes. At first, Jerônimo is physically and morally the superior opposite of Firmo. Now, the sole distinguishing feature between the two is their outward appearance. In character, they have become remarkably alike. The mediator's influence on Jerônimo is not immediately apparent at the outset of their relationship, but over time its effects prove to be significant and far-reaching:
Uma transformação, lenta e profunda, operava-se nele, dia a dia, hora a hora, reviscerando-lhe o corpo e alando-lhe os sentidos, num trabalho misterioso e surdo de crisálida. . . .
E assim, pouco a pouco, se foram reformando todos os seus hábitos singelos de aldeão português: Jerônimo abrasileirou-se. . . .
E o curioso é que quanto mais ia ele caindo nos usos e costumes brasileiros, tanto mais os seus sentidos se apuravam, posto que em detrimento das suas forças físicas (66-67).He was undergoing a slow but profound transformation, gradually, imperceptibly, his body changing before his eyes, his senses growing sharper, in a mysterious and silent process, as with a chrysalis. . . .
Thus were transformed, little by little, all the simple habits that this villager had brought with him from Portugal: Jerônimo had become Brazilian. . . .
Curiously, the more he embraced the local customs and the Brazilian way of life, the sharper his senses became, even though he grew weaker physically.Of course, this movement on the part of Jerônimo toward the object of desire (Rita Baiana) does not sit well with the mediator (Firmo). Like João Romão, Firmo never becomes fully aware of the role that he plays as model and rival. If he did, he might be able to stop the mimetic mechanism about to destroy him. He would not feel compelled to fight over the contested object and risk being maimed or killed. As the events in the novel make clear, no such awareness is ever attained. Firmo remains a prisoner of his desire, and is never able to transcend the confines of double mediation. Instead, he trades places with his nemesis and goes on to play the role of subject. Firmo's initial function in the mimetic relationship with Jerônimo is that of mediator, but over time their roles are eventually reversed. Firmo's liaison with Rita Baiana suddenly becomes important to him, just as Jerônimo starts courting Rita. The malandro's desire for the voluptuous mulata [black woman] is awakened by the desire that he sees originating with his rival. He takes as a prototype the desire of the subject whom he has mediated until now. In other words, he elects to have as his model a copy of his own desire. Double mediation contributes to a state of affairs in which simple whims are easily transformed into violent passions:
E um ciúme doido, um desespero feroz rebentou-lhe por dentro e cresceu logo como a sede de um ferido. "Oh! precisava vingar-se dela! dela e dele! O amaldiçoado resistiu à primeira, mas não lhe escaparia da segunda!" . . .
Com o chapéu à ré, a gaforina mais assanhada que de costume, os olhos vermelhos, a boca espumando pelos cantos, todo ele respirava uma febre de vingança e de ódio (109).And a maddening jealousy, a fierce rage took control of him, and grew as immense and frightful as the wrath of a man whose pride has been wounded. "Oh! he had to seek revenge on her! on both of them! That damned [Portuguese] escaped the first [murder attempt], but he wouldn't escape the second!" . . .
With his hat pushed to the back, his hair in disarray, he frothed in the mouth with anger, his bloodshot eyes and entire demeanor betraying a feverish and hateful frenzy to retaliate.Since double mediation entails a faithful reciprocity between the two foes, Firmo's "desespero feroz [de] vingar-se" [fierce rage to seek revenge] is eventually realized as a common fate that befalls both men. He acts on his jealousy and comes very close to killing Jerônimo in a street fight. This situation is exacerbated when the Portuguese immigrant, after having recovered from the maiming inflicted by Firmo and his cohorts, copies the actions of his rival, and does to Firmo what Firmo tried to do to him. Jerônimo kills Firmo, and by doing so takes his place beside Rita Baiana:
Estava completamente mudado. Rita apagara-lhe a última réstia das recordações da pátria. . . . O português abrasileirou-se para sempre; fez-se . . . amigo das extravagâncias e dos abusos, luxurioso e ciumento . . . e deu-se todo, todo por inteiro, a felicidade de possuir a mulata e ser possuido só por ela, só ela e mais ninguém.
A morte do Firmo não vinha nunca a toldar-lhes o gozo da vida; quer ele, quer a amiga, achavam a coisa muito natural (135 136).He had changed completely. Rita had erased all memory of his home country. . . . The Portuguese had become Brazilian forever; he grew . . . extravagant and wasteful, lustful and jealous . . . and he gave all of himself in pursuit of his [greatest goal and] happiness, [which was] to love the black woman [Rita Baiana] and to be loved by her exclusively.
Firmo's death never disturbed their pleasant married life; both lovers viewed it as something perfectly natural.With the malandro's death, Jerônimo is finally united with the contested object of his desire, and attains the brasilidade [distinctly Brazilian character] that he, as an immigrant, never possessed. He becomes more Brazilian, more like Firmo. With the demise of his former nemesis, Jerônimo's metamorphosis is complete.
Notes
1 For examples of this kind of criticism, see Adherbal de Carvalho, O naturalismo no Brasil (São Luis do Maranhão: Júlio Ramos, 1894).
Valentim Magalhães, A literatura brasileira (Lisboa: A. M. Pereira, 1896).
Elísio Carvalho, As modernas correntes estéticas na literatura brasileira (Rio de Janeiro: Garnier, 1907).
José Veríssimo de Mattos, História da literatura brasileira (Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1916).
Domingos Barboza, "Os despojos de Aluísio Azevedo," Revista da Academia Maranhense de Letras (1919): 80-95.
Alcides Maya, Romantismo e naturalismo através da obra de Aluísio Azevedo (Porto Alegre: Globo, 1926).
Agrippino Grieco, Evolução da prosa brasileira (Rio de Janeiro: Ariel, 1933).
A. M. Rodrigues Alves Filho, O sociologismo e a imaginação no romance brasileiro (Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1938).
Álvaro Lins, "Dois naturalistas: Aluísio Azevedo e Júlio Ribeiro," Revista do Brasil maio 1941: 131 144.
José Bezerra de Freitas, Forma e expressão no romance brasileiro (Rio de Janeiro: Pongetti, 1947).
For an informative overview of Brazilian literary criticism before the 1960s, see "Critics and Criticism," in Dictionary of Brazilian Literature, ed. Irwin Stern (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988): 96-100. This article provides a synopsis of Brazilian literary criticism from the eighteenth century to the present, and argues that "Brazilians who dabbled in literary commentaries after independence were primarily concerned with identifying a nationalistic orientation and sentiment for their newly independent country. . . . With the exception of [José de] Alencar and [Machado de] Assis, these writers approached their tasks from an impressionistic viewpoint, which characterized most of Brazilian literary criticism until the mid 1950s. Impressionistic criticism exists without any formal aesthetic philosophy of art behind it; rather, it is based on extremely personal, often emotional, beliefs or prejudices that are tangential to the artistic process" (96).2 Brito Broca, "O aparecimento de O cortiço em 1890," Revista do livro 2 (1957): 99. Unless otherwise indicated, all English translations of passages from O cortiço, Santa, and any other material quoted in the original foreign language (French, Spanish, or Portuguese) in this paper are my own.
3 Dorothy Loos, "The Influence of Émile Zola on the Five Major Naturalistic Novels of Brazil," Modern Language Journal 39 (1955): 3-8.
Dorothy Loos, The Naturalistic Novel of Brazil (New York: Hispanic Institute, 1963).
Antônio Cândido, Formação da literatura brasileira: Momentos decisivos (São Paulo: Livraria Martins Editora, 1964).
Antônio Cândido, "El paso del dos al tres," Escritura 3 (1977): 21-34.
Sônia Brayner, A metáfora do corpo no romance naturalista: Estudo sobre O cortiço (Rio de Janeiro: Livraria São José, 1973).
Sônia Brayner, "Romance e modernidade," Minas Gerais, suplemento literário 17 de junho, 1978: 10.
Sônia Brayner, Labirinto do espaço romanesco (Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1979).
Affonso Romano de Sant'Anna, Análise estrutural de romances brasileiros (Petrópolis, Brazil: Vozes, 1973).
Affonso Romano de Sant'Anna, "Curtição: O cortiço do Prof. Cândido e o meu," Minas Gerais, suplemento literário 16 de abril, 1977: 6 7 e 23 de abril, 1977: 8 9.
Affonso Romano de Sant'Anna, Por um novo conceito de literatura brasileira (Rio de Janeiro: Eldorado Tijuca, 1977).
Flora Süssekind, Mímesis e modernidade: Formas das sombras (Rio de Janeiro: Graal, 1980).
Flora Süssekind, Tal Brasil, qual romance? (Rio de Janeiro: Achiamé, 1984).
Rui Mourão, introduction, O cortiço, by Aluísio Azevedo (São Paulo: Editora Ática, 1981) 5-9.
Other recent critics who have analyzed Azevedo's work include:
Raimundo de Menezes, Aluísio Azevedo: Uma vida de romance (São Paulo: Livraria Martins, 1958).
Josué Montello, Aluísio Azevedo (Rio de Janeiro: Agir, 1963).
Nélson Werneck Sodré, O naturalismo no Brasil (Rio de Janeiro: Editora Civilização Brasileira, 1965).
Sérgio Milliet, introduction, O cortiço, by Aluísio Azevedo (São Paulo: Livraria Martins Editora, 1967) 11 16.
Sigurt Schmidt, "A fragmentária teoria literária de Azevedo," Philologica pragensia 15 (1972): 213-219.
Herberto Sales, Para conhecer melhor Aluísio Azevedo (Rio de Janeiro: Bloch Editores, 1973).
Antônio Andrade, "A Gênese d'O mulato de Aluísio Azevedo," Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 1975.
Jean-Yves Mérian, "Genre, signification et portée de O cortiço," Nouvelles études portugaises et brésiliennes 9 (1975): 53-94.
Josué Montello, Aluísio Azevedo e a polêmica d'O mulato (Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1975).
Gerald Moser, "The Persistence of Naturalism in the Brazilian 'Northeastern Fiction.'" Studies in Honor of Lloyd A. Kasten (Madison, Wisconsin: Hispanic Seminary of Medieval Studies, 1975): 199-208.
Antônio Dimas, Aluísio Azevedo: Seleção de textos, notas, estudos biográfico, histórico e crítico e exercícios (São Paulo: Abril Educação, 1980).
Juan Armando Epple, "Aluísio Azevedo y el naturalismo en Brasil," Revista de crítica literaria latinoamericana 6 (1980): 29-46.
Jean-Yves Mérian, "Les débuts du naturalisme au Brésil," Recherches et études comparatistes ibéro-francophones de la Sorbonne Nouvelle 3 (1981): 27-37.
Enrique Laguerre, "De Rita Baiana a Teresa Batista: personajes de la novela brasileña," Sin nombre 12 (1982): 25-37.
Ruth Brandão Lopes, "Loucura/repressão da mulher em Encarnação, A doida do Candal, e O homem," Minas Gerais, suplemento literário 23 de janeiro, 1982: 4 5.
João Sedycias, "Crane, Azevedo, and Gamboa: A Comparative Study," Ph.D. dissertation, State University of New York at Buffalo, 1985.
João Sedycias, "Violent Symmetries: Self and Other in Aluísio Azevedo," in Studies in Modern and Classical Languages and Literatures I, ed. Fidel López Criado (Madrid: Orígenes, 1987): 83-90.
Luzia Navas Toríbio, "O entrave social ao mestiço em O mulato de Aluísio Azevedo e em Portagem de Orlando Mendes," Estudos portugueses e africanos 14 (1989): 49-56.4 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 5 9.
5 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 5.
6 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 5.
7 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 6.
8 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 6 7.
9 Mourão, introduction, O cortiço 6.
10 Olívio Montenegro, O romance brasileiro: As suas origens e tendências (Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1938) 63-64.
José Osório de Oliveira, História breve da literatura brasileira (Lisboa: Editorial Verbo, 1964) 93.
Milliet, introduction, O cortiço 14.11 Aluísio Azevedo, O cortiço (São Paulo: Editora Ática, 1981) 18. All subsequent quotations from O cortiço are from this edition. Citations by page number appear in parentheses in the text.
12 René Girard, Deceit, Desire, and the Novel: Self and Other in Literary Structure, trans. Yvonne Freccero (Baltimore, Maryland: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1980) 6.
13 Girard, Deceit 100.
14 Girard, Deceit 10.
15 Girard, Deceit 10.
16 Massoud Moisés, "Alguns Aspectos da Obra de Aluísio Azevedo," Revista do livro 4 (1959): 113.
17 Wilma Newberry, "Ramón Pérez de Ayala's Concept of the Doppelgänger in Belarmino y Apolonio," Symposium 34 (1980): 59.
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