This is a book of short stories, and I confess that, although I love neologisms, I didn't understand the reason for the recommendations at first. That was until I read the story "The Mirror". A revelation came. This story subtly talks about how you can choose to see a reflection that you always want to look at from the same angle and in the same mirror. But if you change your position and use different mirrors, everything changes.

In the story, the narrator says that one day he thought he was ugly because he was caught off guard by a mirror. At that moment, it resonated with me, and then I understood: he is also talking about stories and literature. I went back and reread the stories.

I was in ecstasy as I hadn't been in a long time. The stories have a simple first layer. But if you start from the premise that nothing is written by chance, each story reveals a second story behind it. I don't even know how to explain it properly. This is really, really, really great.

Then I shared this with an acquaintance who is a master in literature. Then she told me, "The story 'The Mirror' is in the middle. Now try to read the stories as if they were a reflection of the other half." "The Mirror", story number 11, reflects story 10. Story 12 reflects story 9. And so on.

It's really great. Fortunately, I'm reading it now because if it were in high school, I would never have caught this reference.

The texts are difficult to read. Sometimes it's archaism, sometimes it's enology. Constructions of prose, sometimes prose that emulates poetry. A 160-page book that you take a long time to read. And even longer to understand.

Review 1992:

Some stories are beautiful (such as "Departure of the Merry Sailor"), but most of them drown in an excess of linguistic trickery; it is very tiring to read.

I have indeed come across many striking images and sayings. Here are a few quotes:

Fatalistic as a porcelain cup ("Fatality", p. 57).

But, in that shining moment, he knew and discovered: that you could never really, truly, enjoy the beautiful or good things that happened according to their value. Sometimes, because they came quickly and unexpectedly, when you were not yet ready for them. Or expected, and then they did not taste as good as they were, only crude imitations. Or, because the other things, the bad ones, also continued, on both sides, and left no room open. Or because still other things were missing, happened in all kinds of situations, but which had to come together with that first one, to make a whole. Or because, even while they were happening, you knew that they were on their way, towards their end, eaten away by the hours, disintegrating... ("The Peaks", p. 164 - 165)

Overall, while there are some闪光点 in the stories, the overabundance of elaborate language detracts from the reading experience. It would have been better if the author had focused more on telling the stories clearly and engagingly rather than showing off with complex language. However, the quotes do offer some interesting insights and food for thought.

Poetic, playful, mysterious, and deeply attached to the Sertão.

The Sertão, that vast and arid region, holds a special allure. It is a place where the harsh elements have shaped not only the land but also the souls of those who call it home.

Poetry seems to flow naturally from the lips of the people, as they describe the beauty and desolation of their surroundings. Their words paint vivid pictures of the endless plains, the scorching sun, and the rare moments of rainfall that bring life to the parched earth.

Playfulness can also be found in the Sertão. The people have a unique sense of humor, and they find joy in the simplest of things. Whether it's a game of cards or a dance around the campfire, they know how to make the most of life in this challenging environment.

Mystery shrouds the Sertão as well. Legends and superstitions abound, adding an air of enigma to the place. Who knows what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface of the desert sands?

And yet, despite its hardships, the people of the Sertão are deeply attached to their homeland. It is a part of them, and they would not trade it for anything in the world. Their love for the Sertão is as vast and enduring as the land itself.

For those, like me, who are intimidated by "Grande Sertão: Veredas", these stories seem to me to be an excellent initiation ritual into the sinuous and inventive prose of João Guimarães Rosa. First of all, my praise for this edition of Tinta da China, very nice, with an index beautified with engravings at the author's request, as in the 1st edition in Brazil.

I do not pretend to say that I deciphered the unique writing of Guimarães Rosa and the truth is that many times it left me dazed, but taking the part for the whole, understanding some words and inferring so many neologisms and regionalisms, all the stories are understandable and, for those who like to appreciate the language itself, it becomes a joy.

"Primeiras Estórias" places a great emphasis on the protagonists on the margins of society, children, the mad and the criminals, those who have not yet integrated it, or have stopped integrating it, due to immaturity, alienation or choice. There is a lot of poverty and tragedy here, but there are also plenty of picaresque characters that give variety to the reading.

Among my favorite stories are "Sorôco, sua mãe, sua filha", "A menina de lá", "A Benfazeja", "Substância" and the inevitable "A Terceira Margem do Rio", which I had heard so much about and which deserves all the praise.

[Thank you, Celeste!]

Quando nada acontece, há um milagre que não estamos vendo.

This book was published in 1962, just a few years before the author's death (he had a heart attack in Rio de Janeiro in November 1967, just a few days after taking office at the Brazilian Academy of Letters). The 21 stories narrate cases from the sertão, a child and a turkey, a hired killer, two crazy women, a family vendetta, a theatrical performance, a pursuit, a mystery, a very white young man, a blind man, a kidnapping, a miracle. Love.... And much more.

The diversity of protagonists and situations projects the reader into an exotic Brazil. The writing multiplies the perspectives of the story and mixes sensations and feelings; it is the real, it is fantasy, hate and love. As Guimarães Rosa himself says: The story does not want to be history. The story, strictly speaking, should be against History. The story, sometimes, wants to be like an anecdote.

It is an excellent book. I recommend it.

The narrative and inventive power of Guimarães Rosa is unquestionable and is shown with considerable evidence in this collection of 21 short stories. "As Primeiras Estórias" has its good and bad moments, however. It is difficult to say that Rosa had a bad moment, though, since a writer of his magnitude hardly makes mistakes. Nevertheless, I felt that in some narratives, such as "A menina de lá", "Um moço muito branco", "A partida do audaz navegante", they seem forced in the metaphysical creation.

On the other hand, the work is of an impressive force when it reaches the high points. The story "A terceira margem do rio" always remains in the memory of the book - and it must be said that perhaps it is one of the most amazingly wonderful narratives in the Portuguese language - but there is much more than just this story: "Famigerado", "Os irmãos Dagobé", "Fatalidade", "Sequência", "Substância" and "Tarantão, meu patrão" are narratives in which Rosa manages to absorb the metaphysical and regional elements in an unrivaled harmony. The use of poetic language and the deep knowledge of languages, of experience and of the traditional, of the innovative and the old, of the metaphysical and the regional build the wonderful world of "As Primeiras Estórias".

Perhaps a work to start with in Rosa's work because of the length of the narratives, but a book always to return to after a deeper knowledge of the author, to savor the beauty of his poetic experience.

There is a type that snatches by what is unsaid, by understanding without comprehension, by the inexpressible words and multiplicity in singularity...

I feel touched without exactly knowing where I was touched and what touched me.

In order that I don't forget: The margins of joy; The third margin of the river; The girl over there; Pirlimpsiquice; Sequence; Nothing and our condition; The horse that drank beer; The Benfazeja; Darandina; Substance; Tarantão, my boss...; The Peaks.

This unique combination of elements seems to create a world that is both mysterious and captivating. Each item listed holds a certain allure, as if they are pieces of a puzzle that together form a larger, more profound picture. The inexpressible nature of these concepts adds to their charm, leaving the reader to wonder and imagine.

Perhaps it is the power of the unknown that draws us in, making us want to explore and understand these strange and wonderful things. Or maybe it is the beauty in their simplicity, the way they can convey so much with just a few words or phrases.

Whatever the reason, this collection of ideas and images has a way of touching our hearts and minds, making us think and feel in ways we never thought possible.

I cannot deny that it is a good book, although it is not entirely to my liking.

I believe that everything important in these stories revolves around language, and then everything falls on landscapes, themes, and characters. It is a complicated book, and I imagine that the task of translating from Portuguese to Spanish was arduous. The author creates all these real worlds but at the same time so imaginative, and does everything using the language, so difficult, intricate, invented, illogical but full of incredible meaning within his ideas and words.

The recurring themes are life, death, love, revenge, madness (common themes). I also felt that the characters were complicated within their own humanity, with many concerns and fears. Of the stories, I liked "The Margins of Joy", "Soroco, His Mother, His Daughter", "The Girl from There", "The Dagobé Brothers", "The Mirror", and "The Benefactress". One has to read it calmly, because at first glance, nothing is understood.

"Light is for everyone; it is the darknesses that are separate and diverse" (p.193) - in The Benefactress.

Premières histoires is a collection of short stories that描绘了 sertão的生活。

One has an excellent time navigating among these unpretentious little stories, some of which convey very powerful messages.

All themes are addressed. Ignorance, which is prevalent in the desolate sertão, as seen in "Légendaire" where the terror of a village travels long distances to visit an educated person to get the definition of an adjective that was plastered on a poster. The miracles that feed the idle inhabitants, as in "La fille de là-bas" where a little girl attracts the envy of her own relatives. The mysteries, with the very mysterious "Troisième rive du fleuve" or "Miroir". Love, whether nascent or rediscovered, in "Lunes-de-miel" where jagunços take up arms to protect... love. Separation in "Soroco, sa mère, sa fille". Honor, with the "Frères Dagobé", still very much alive in these remote lands. And so on...

Premières histoires is truly the work that I recommend to get a first idea of the roséen world, even before diving into Diadorim.

I have no earthly clue what the title story is supposed to mean or even be about. It seems rather mysterious and leaves me scratching my head. The writing is quite nice, though. There is a certain elegance and flow to it that makes it pleasant to read. However, despite that, I'm still left with a sense of confusion.

It's like trying to solve a puzzle where the pieces just don't seem to fit. Maybe it's a story that requires a deeper understanding or a different perspective. But for now, it's definitely beyond my pay grade, senhor.

I read this story as part of the GR Short Story Club, and it has definitely sparked some interesting discussions among the members. We've all been trying to figure out the meaning behind it and sharing our different interpretations. It's been a fun and challenging experience so far.

Overall, while I may not fully understand the title story, I can appreciate the skill and creativity that went into writing it. I'm looking forward to reading more stories in the club and seeing if I can gain a better understanding of this unique art form.

João Guimarães Rosa (1908/1967), a native of Cordisburgo in Minas Gerais but a "citizen of the world," was a novelist, short story writer, poet, doctor, and diplomat. Practically unanimously, he is considered one of the greatest Brazilian writers of all time and a creative genius who developed a unique language, a blend of archaic words and neologisms, which structured the narrative in his stories and novels. His iconic and fundamental works include the short story collection "Sagarana" (1946) and the epic novel "Grande Sertão Veredas" (1956), which are part of the national literary canon.

"Primeiras estórias," originally published in 1962, contains twenty-one short stories set in a Brazil that the author saw as a "new Brazil," going through a kind of transition between the rural Brazil that he knew and valued so much and the urban Brazil that was being built within a painful and tense process. It is also curious the use of the word "estórias," an archaism that has practically fallen out of use in Brazil. According to the emeritus professor of History at PUC-RJ and teacher in the Letters courses at UFRJ, Luiz Costa Lima, born in 1937 and author of an interesting essay titled "O mundo em perspectiva: Guimarães Rosa," presented at the end of this edition, the title "Primeiras Estórias" is justified because: "They are the first stories of a new Brazil at the beginning of its emergence."

An interesting factor in any book by Guimarães Rosa is his freedom and creativity in the use of the lexicon or lexicons. The author, on a certain occasion, regarding this issue, declared the following: "When I write, I repeat what I have already lived before. And for these two lives, one lexicon is not enough. In other words, I would like to be a crocodile living in the São Francisco River. I would like to be a crocodile because I love the great rivers, for they are as deep as the soul of a man. On the surface, they are very lively and clear, but in the depths, they are calm and dark like the suffering of men."

The twenty-one stories bring painful narratives of men, women, and children facing their difficult lives in a context where traditions still spoke loudly but where, paradoxically, many changes were already visible and inevitable. In my opinion, the highlights are "Famigerado," "Os irmãos Dagobé," the classic "A terceira margem do rio" (which approaches in a masterful way a kind of "fantastic realism"), "Nenhum, nenhuma," and the unusual and funny "O cavalo que bebia cerveja."

One of the factors that most attract attention and generate debates regarding the work of Guimarães Rosa is related to the language he used. As already mentioned, the result of a blend of archaic words with neologisms, and titled by many as a true "craftsmanship of the word," this language often makes reading difficult. Still according to professor Luiz Costa Lima, it is common to associate this language, with the caveats and inherent risks of any classification, with a certain "phrasal baroque" that he cites and analyzes in his essay "O mundo em perspectiva: Guimarães Rosa": "Although aware of these risks, the work of Guimarães Rosa cannot completely free itself from the danger that the designation baroque generates. However, the fact that we speak of phrasal baroque reduces this risk, while at the same time fixing a relevant category for the stylistic investigation of the work."

The fact is that this so-called phrasal baroque transforms the phrasing of Guimarães Rosa into a kind of meticulously and patiently woven tapestry that attracts attention for its beauty and unusualness but, I repeat, takes away the fluency of reading. Here are two examples taken, respectively, from the stories "Substância" and "Tarantão, meu patrão": "Sionésio e Maria Exita – a meios olhos, perante o refulgir, o todo branco. Acontecia o não-fato, o não-tempo, silêncio em sua imaginação. Só o um-e-outra, um em-si juntos, o viver em ponto sem parar, coraçãomente: pensamento, pensamôr. Alvor. Alvor. Avançavam, parados, dentro da luz, como se fosse no dia de Todos os Pássaros." "A cidade – catastrapes! Que acolhenças? A cidade, estupefacta, com automóveis e soldados. Aquelas ruas, aldemenos, consideravam nosso maltrupúcio. A gente nem um tico tendo medo, com o existido não se importava. Ah, e o velho estardalhão? – que jurava que matava. Pois o demo! Vamos... O velho sabia bem, aonde era o lugar daquela casa."

Indeed, a phrasal baroque in the service of a craftsmanship of the word but that often truncates reading, which becomes all too often a laborious process. I have read many stories by other "craftsmen of phrases and words" such as Monteiro Lobato, Lima Barreto, Lygia Fagundes Telles, Rubem Fonseca, Machado de Assis, Júlia Lopes de Almeida, Clarice Lispector, and others who enchant but who guarantee a more enjoyable reading.

These caveats, of course, do not take away anything from the merit of appreciating the work of an indubitable genius of national literature.

A good read to be savored with discernment and patience.

The Third Bank of the River
+++++++++++++++++

To the great puzzlement and distress of his family, the narrator's father in this story makes a rather astonishing decision one day. He abandons his life on shore, purchases a boat, and then spends the remainder of his days floating around on the nearby river. Now, if one were to think along the lines of what Ratty says to his good friend Mole—"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing–absolutely nothing–half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats"—they would be quite mistaken. For in this case, there is no such thing as "messing about." The father seems to derive absolutely no joy from his new fluvial lifestyle. As a result, I found myself a bit out of my depths when it came to the story's central metaphor.

However, I did manage to think of several other works apart from Wind in the Willows that refer to the flow of rivers. There is the concept of the river in Buddhism, which Hermann Hesse skillfully weaves into Siddhartha. And then there are Heraclitus' ideas about flux and the impossibility of stepping into the same river twice. If I recall correctly, the very first time I ever learned about Heraclitus and his theories regarding the river and being/becoming was from reading Borges many years ago. And in this short story anthology, Black Water, Borges figures prominently not only in the life of the anthologist (Alberto Manguel) but also in many of the book’s stories and among its authors.