Chapter I: Front Matter

BRAZILIAN TALES

TRANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

ISAAC GOLDBERG

Author of "Studies in Spanish-American Literature," etc.

Boston The Four Seas Company

1921

_Copyright, 1921, by_ THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY Boston, Mass., U. S. A.

The Four Seas Press

CONTENTS

Page

PRELIMINARY REMARKS 7

THE ATTENDANT'S CONFESSION 43
BY JOAQUIM MARIA MACHADO DE ASSIS

THE FORTUNE-TELLER 65
BY JOAQUIM MARIA MACHADO DE ASSIS

LIFE 87
BY JOAQUIM MARIA MACHADO DE ASSIS

THE VENGEANCE OF FELIX 107
BY JOSÉ MEDEIROS E ALBUQUERQUE

THE PIGEONS 121
BY COELHO NETTO

AUNT ZEZE'S TEARS 139
BY CARMEN DOLORES

TO

J. D. M. FORD

SMITH PROFESSOR OF THE FRENCH AND SPANISH LANGUAGES, HARVARD UNIVERSITY

SOME INFORMAL PRELIMINARY REMARKS

The noted Brazilian critic, José Verissimo, in a short but important essay on the deficiencies of his country's letters, has expressed serious doubt as to whether there exists a genuinely Brazilian literature. "I do not know," he writes, "whether the existence of an entirely independent literature is possible without an entirely independent language." In this sense Verissimo would deny the existence of a Swiss, or a Belgian, literature. In this sense, too, it was no doubt once possible, with no small measure of justification, to deny the existence of an American, as distinguished from an English, literature. Yet, despite the subtle psychic bonds that link identity of speech to similarity of thought, the environment (which helps to shape pronunciation as well as vocabulary and the language itself) is, from the standpoint of literature, little removed from language as a determining factor. Looking at the question, however, from the purely linguistic standpoint, it is important to remember that the Spanish of Spanish America is more different from the parent tongue than is the English of this country from that of the mother nation. Similar changes have taken place in the Portuguese spoken in Brazil. Yet who would now pretend, on the basis of linguistic similarity, to say that there is no United States literature as distinguished from English literature? After all, is it not national life, as much as national language, that makes literature? And by an inversion of Verissimo's standard may we not come face to face with a state of affairs in which different literatures exist within the same tongue? Indeed, is not such a conception as the "great American novel" rendered quite futile in the United States by the fact that from the literary standpoint we are several countries rather than one?

The question is largely academic. At the same time it is interesting to notice the more assertive standpoint lately adopted by the charming Mexican poet, Luis G. Urbina, in his recent "La Vida Literaria de México," where, without undue national pride he claims the right to use the adjective Mexican in qualifying the letters of his remarkable country. Urbina shows that different physiological and psychological types have been produced in his part of the New World; why, then, should the changes stop there? Nor have they ceased at that point, as Señor Urbina's delightful and informative book reveals. So, too, whatever the merits of the academic question involved, a book like Alencar's "Guarany," for instance, could not have been written outside of Brazil; neither could Verissimo's own "Scenes from Amazon Life."