It is clear from the stuttering opening sentence of The Passion According to G.H. And, if you do, you may well find that the journey is unforgettable. H.’s passion on your own terms, experience her horror and joy as she struggles to make sense of, and give voice to, the “truth” that she has just come to understand. You have to be willing to surrender it freely, to engage with G. She does not want your existential “blood” on her hands, dear reader. They who, only they, will slowly come to understand that this book takes nothing from no one. Those who know that the approach, of whatever it may be, happens gradually and painstakingly-even passing through the opposite of what it approaches. But I would be happy if it were only read by people whose souls are already formed. Clarice Lispector prefaces this metaphysically intense novel with a short address to her “possible readers” that states:
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