PDF Datastream - Brown Digital Repository

Admirable but Not Imitable:
Brazilian Interpretations of the United States, 1910-1960.
By
Benjamin W. Legg
B.A., University of Massachusetts-Amherst, 2004.
A.M., Brown University, 2014.
A Dissertation Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of Portuguese and Brazilian Studies at Brown
University.
Providence, Rhode Island
May, 2016
© Copyright 2016 by Benjamin W. Legg
This dissertation by Benjamin W. Legg is accepted in its present form
by the Department of Portuguese and Brazilian Studies as satisfying
the dissertation requirement for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy
Date__________
___________________________________
Nelson H. Vieira, Advisor
Recommended to the Graduate Council
Date___________
_____________________________________
Luiz F. Valente, Reader
Date___________
_____________________________________
James N. Green, Reader
Approved by the Graduate Council
Date____________
_____________________________________
Peter M. Weber, Dean of the Graduate School
iv
VITA
Benjamin Legg was born in Providence, Rhode Island in 1980, and raised in Attleboro,
MA. He pursued his undergraduate degree at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst,
where he double majored in Journalism and Portuguese, and graduated summa cum laude
in 2004. During his undergraduate career in engaged in study abroad at Pontíficia
Universidade Católica, Rio de Janeiro. After several years of work as an instructor of
English at the Institutul Teologic Protestant in Cluj-Napoca, Romania, he began his
graduate studies in the Department of Portuguese at the University of MassachusettsDartmouth in 2008. He left that school in 2010 and began his doctoral studies at Brown
University’s Department of Portuguese and Brazilian Studies as the recipient of a Mellon
Graduate Fellowship. Over the course of his studies at Brown he has received an
International Affairs Travel Grant and a Belda Research Fellowship to engage in archival
research in Brazil. He has had book reviews appear in the Luso-Brazilian Review and is
the author of a chapter in the 2015 edited volume, Performing Brazil. He currently
resides in Providence.
v
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This dissertation is the fruit of several years of research, pondering and writing,
and I must thank my advisor, Dr. Nelson Vieira for his kind support and encouragement
over the course of this project. I must also thank Dr. Luiz Valente for his constant
reminders to find the nuances in my research, and Dr. James Green, for his historical
perspective and his assistance in keeping this dissertation more grounded.
I must also thank the Mellon Graduate Fellowship and the Belda Family Fund for
their financial support that enabled my research travel to Brazil, as well as Brown’s
Office of International Affairs. In Brazil, I must acknowledge the various coordinators,
archivists and librarians who facilitated my research: Elvia Maria de Sá Bezerra, Júlia
Menezes Lima Moreira and Manoela Purcell Daudt d’Oliveira at the Instituto Moreira
Salles in Rio de Janeiro; Carlos Alberto, Cibele Barbosa, Rodrigo Cantarelli and Sandra
Mello at the Fundação Joaquim Nabuco in Recife; Jamille Barbosa and Renata
Cavalcanti at the Fundação Gilberto Freyre in Recife; Cristiano Diniz at the CEDAE at
the State University of Campinas; as well as the ever-obliging staff at the library of the
Associação Brasileira da Imprensa in Rio de Janeiro. I cannot forget the dedicated staff at
Brown University’s own Rockefeller and John Hay libraries as well. I would also like to
extend thanks to scholars who have generously offered their own time and assistance to
this project through conversations and recommenations, in particular: Anani Dzidizenyo,
Anna Klobucka, Christopher Larkosh, Edilza Sotero, Gláucia Silva, Heloísa Buarque de
Holanda, Josiah Blackmore, Maria da Glória Bordini, Marisa Lajolo, Onésimo Almeida
and Viviane Gontijo.
vi
I cannot forget my own intellectual family here at Brown. I thank all of my
professors and colleagues in the Portuguese and Brazilian Studies Department, with
special thanks to departmental staff Armanda Silva and Kate Beall. I thank Director of
Graduate Study Leonor Simas-Almeida and Language Coordinator Patricia Sobral for
their ceaseless work to facilitate the graduate students’ sojourns at Brown. I extend
special gratitude to Sandra Sousa, Sophia Beal and Thayse Lima, who mentored me
through my adjustment to academic life, as well as to Adi Gold, Brianna Medeiros, David
Mittelman, Gabriela Gazzinelli, Marcelo Lotufo, Marcos Cerdeira, Patrícia Ferreira,
Sarah Ashby and Sílvia Cabral Teresa, my dear classmates, colleagues and
companheiros.
I must thank my friends and colleagues in Brazil for their hospitality and their role
as interlocutors in the development of my project: Alan Ribeiro, Emanuel Pereira, Fábio
Santos, Ivar Rodriguez Hannikainen, João Duarte, Luíza Laranjeira, Rafael Velloso,
Sílvia Correia and Viviane Angélica Silva. Without their couches, guest rooms and
friendly outings this research would not have been possible. In Providence, I need to
thank Devon, Genevieve, Jason, Matthew, Nicole, Randy, Rose, Whitney, William and
Daniel for being my refuge when the life of the mind weighs down.
Finally, I must thank my family, especially my parents Carleton and Marilynn
Legg, for their ceaseless support and their encouragement of the cultivation of my
intellectual curiosity.
vii
Table of Contents
Title Page…………………………………………………………………………………..i
Copyright Page…………………………………………………………………………....ii
Signature Page…………………………………………………………………………....iv
Vita………………………………………………………………………………………..v
Acknowledgements……………………………………………………………………….vi
Table of Contents………………………………………………………………………..viii
Introduction………………………………………………………………………………..1
Chapter One
Parallel Sojourns, Divergent Trajectories: The Inter-American Encounters of
Gilberto Freyre and Monteiro Lobato……………………………………………31
Chapter Two
The Many Happy Returns of the Gato Preto: Truth, Stereotypes and Humanity in
Erico Verissimo's Even-Handed United States…………………………………107
Chapter Three
A Cold War Chill: Brazil-United States Distancing in the Postwar Era………..181
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………...250
Bibliography……………………………………………………………………………260
viii
Introduction
The great Brazilian thinker, statesman and first full ambassador to the United
States, Joaquim Nabuco, wrote a letter to his friend and colleague Graça Aranha in
November of 1906 in which he discussed a diplomatic incident upon his arrival in New
York City from Brazil.
They gave me a list to fill out and sign with the same kinds of questions
they ask all immigrants. The other first class passengers, even Lord
Curzon, answered them, but I said that it was not for me given that I was
Brazil’s diplomatic representative…It became a scandal in the papers” 1
(Nabuco 16 Nov).
The incident indeed was discussed in papers such as The New York World, Rio de
Janeiro’s O Paiz, and many smaller regional Brazilian papers from Natal to São Paulo.
Nabuco’s treatment led to an official apology on the part of U.S. immigration as well as a
series of indignant letters from Nabuco’s North American correspondents. Former
secretary to the U.S. legation in Brazil, Richard Cutts Shannon remarked, “It is absurd to
suppose the law was ever intended to be so applied. I am delighted with your manly
attitude, it will teach us a lesson we richly need to learn” (Shannon). A certain Thomas H.
Bell decried the ambassador’s treatment, “The treatment visitors to the United States
receive in this way would disgrace a race of savages” (Bell). This incident and the
ensuing reactions may seem like an obscure footnote in the history of the relationship
between the Western Hemisphere’s two largest countries. It was, after all, quickly
resolved and indeed raised an appropriate level of outrage from the press and fellow
1
Deram-me uma lista para encher e assignar com as perguntas que se fazem aos immigrantes. Os
passgeiros de 1ª classe, mesmo Lord Curzon, assignaram, eu disse que isso não entendia commigo quera o
Representante Diplomatico do Brazil…Virou escândalo na imprensa.
1
diplomats in the United States. Incidents like these, however, are indicative of a broader
sense of asymmetry in relations between the two countries that permeates any discussion
of the alliance between Brazil and the United States.
Nabuco himself was well aware of the lower standards of etiquette that dignitaries
may face in the United States prior to this encounter. In a letter to the Viscount of Rio
Branco, the father of modern Brazilian diplomacy, from the previous year, he comments
on the outrage felt by the Mexican ambassador over the lack of ceremony he had received
in Washington. Nabuco claims that it is in Brazil’s best diplomatic interest to adapt to the
less formal U.S. approach:
You, who took the initiative (to establish a formal embassy), and who has
been in Washington, know very well that they (the North Americans) do
not possess the European instinct for ceremony. There they call the
President, Mr. President, they call Cardinal Gibbons, Cardinal, and they
call the Ambassador, simply, Ambassador. Our object of comparison
cannot be the American Embassy in Petrópolis, where any inequality
between the different legations would be viewed poorly, but rather with
the other embassies in Washington, where our ambassador cannot stand
out from his colleagues…The United States is among the primary, if not
the primary nation of the world. Their good disposition toward us is, in
and of itself, our great objective, and we should not demand that they deal
with us in our style, rather than in that which is habitual for them, which
is, ordinarily, very simple and familiar. 2(Nabuco 15 Apr)
In this letter, the fact that Nabuco claims that what Brazil needs is the good favor, rather
than the respect of the United States, is a starkly realistic admission of Brazil’s
subordinate status when confronting that country. Nevertheless, it is evidence of a
2
V. que teve a iniciativa e que esteve em W. sabe bem que elles não têm o instinto de ceremonial europeu.
Lá chama-se o Presidente, Mr. President, ao Cardeal Gibbons, Cardinal, e ao Embaixador, Ambassador. O
nosso objeto de comparação não pode ser a Embaixada Americana em Petrópolis, onde seria mal vista
qualquer desigualdade sensível com as legações mas sim as outras embaixadas em W onde o nosso
Embaixador não pode fazer figura reparavel no meio dos seus collegas, Nada mas obrigava a esse
passo….Os Estados Unidos são das primeiras, senão a primeira nação do mundo. A sua disposição para
connosco e por si só um grande objetivo para nós, não devemos exigir elles nos a demonstrem a nosso
modo e não pelo modo que lhes é habitual, o qual de ordinário é tão singelo, familiar.
2
particular Brazilian strategy of approximation to the United States at the start of twentieth
century.
For Brazilian statesmen like Rio Branco and Nabuco, the establishment of good
relations with the United States was a way to maintain Brazilian prominence in a
continent of smaller Spanish-speaking republics. Frank McCann writes that Rio Branco
favored Brazilian allegiance to the United States, “to balance being outnumbered in
South American multilateral meetings” (38). He continues:
By standing with the United States in its Caribbean and Central American
adventures and by seeking acceptance of arbitration in the settlement of
disputes, Brazil sought to protect itself from similar American abuse, to
convince its neighbors that the United States was allied with Brazil, and
that Brazil would not threaten them militarily. (38-39)
McCann cites Clodoaldo Bueno and claims that the strategic substance of this allegiance,
one that in some ways reinforced political and economic asymmetries, was nevertheless,
“the pursuit of independence, development and prestige” (39). This Pan-American
strategy would allow Brazil to break its postcolonial ties with Europe and to gain power
and prestige over its neighbors, with the United States a potential partner for Brazilian
development and success. In another letter to Graça Aranha, Nabuco claims:
Our interest is in a quasi-alliance with United States, a perfect accord. Do
not believe that this will diminish us in the eyes of Europe---It is in our
interest to remain the neutral sphere of the globe, which is America, and
not in the belligerent sphere, which is the Old World. A Brazil supported
by American friendship would be a safer field for the employment of
European capital and other activities, including immigration, than a Brazil
suspicious of the United States, like the other American republics.... 3
3
O nosso interesse é uma quasi-alliança com os Estados-Unidos, um accordo perfeito. Não creia que isso
nos prejudicasse na Europa---É do nosso interesse pertencer á esphera neutra do globo, que é a América, e
não á sua esphera belligerante, que é o Velho Mundo. Um Brazil apoiado na amizade Americana seria um
campo muito mais seguro para todos es empregos do Capital e da atividade européa, inclusive a
immigração, do que um Brazil suspeitozo dos Estados Unidos, como as outras Republicas Americanas, e
portanto suspeita a ellas.
3
In the view of these diplomats, by partnering with (or submitting to…) the United States,
Brazil would be free of dependence on Europe and could stand above its neighbors.
The Brazilian focus on the United States in the early twentieth century, as part of
a quest to establish Brazil as a modern and sovereign success story in Latin America, was
not limited to the diplomatic and economic spheres. While Europe remained the primary
cultural model for Brazil’s intellectual elites at the turn of twentieth century, there was a
new interest in the United States awakening in Brazil. This interest was linked to the
broader search for a distinct Brazilian national identity in order to stand apart from its
former colonial master, Portugal, as well as from its Hispanophone neighbors. In some
ways, it would appear that Brazil should have been well-positioned on this path. Given its
geographic isolation from Europe and its neighbors, it is no surprise that Brazil developed
a distinct identity in the nineteenth century (and even earlier). That said, given the
country’s immensity and the separation of the most important poles of settlement, there
were intense logistical barriers to overcome in order for a cohesive Brazilian national
identity to develop.
Benedict Anderson, in his classic 1983 text Imagined Communities privileges the
written word as the fundamental tool in the construction of national identity as a way of,
“…linking fraternity, power and time meaningfully together.” (36). He claims:
Nothing perhaps more precipitated this search, nor made it more fruitful,
than print-capitalism, which made it possible for rapidly growing numbers
of people to think about themselves, and to relate themselves to others, in
profoundly new ways” (36).
In addition to giving the written word such prominence in the creation of the concept of
nation, he, importantly to any study of Brazil, places the first experimentations with this
4
form of nation building in the Americas. In his attempt to deduce how the Creoles of
Latin American countries, as well as the United States, were able to transform residency
of an administrative division into an affective tie to a new nation, he concludes that it
could not have been purely economic or philosophical factors that led to the creation of a
sense of national consciousness, and states, “In accomplishing this specific task, pilgrim
creole functionaries and provincial creole printmen played the decisive historic role”
(65). To summarize Anderson’s interpretation, these early national communities in the
Americas, the laboratory of a modern concept of nationhood, were formed by the
inhabitants of administrative divisions who, rejected by the metropolis as inferior,
developed a sense of connectedness via printed language (in the form of newspapers) and
shared administrative duties.
Brazil, in a way, stands out as an exception to Anderson’s model of early
American nation-building in that it lacked an active press during the colonial period.
While foreign books and newspapers did circulate clandestinely in Brazil during the
colonial period, the newspaper could not have served the same role as it did in building
community as Anderson claims it did in the United States, Mexico or Venezuela.
Furthermore, although there were uprisings throughout Brazil in the late colonial era (the
Inconfidência Mineira of 1789, the Revolução dos Alfaiates in 1798 and the
Pernambucan Revolution of 1817), the fundamental push for independence was not as
fully rooted in the Creole elites as it was in the United States and Spanish America, as it
was linked to the decision of the Portuguese monarchy to establish itself in Rio de Janeiro
in 1808 during Napoleon’s occupation of Portugal. The circumstances of Brazilian
independence were unique in the Americas, and therefore, there was more work to be
5
done for the creation of a national identity that follows Anderson’s model for American
republics.
The newly independent Brazilian Empire was riven by conflicts that reflected
various levels of division that would problematize the nation-building project. There were
conflicts between the masters and the enslaved (The Revolta dos Malês in Bahia),
between the native born and Portuguese immigrants (The Guerra dos Mascates in
Pernambuco), and between regions and the central government (The Guerra dos
Farrapos in Rio Grande do Sul and the Cabanagem in Pará). In his own analysis of the
evolution of the concept of nation, Eric Hobsbawm, with the help of Pierre Vilar, affirms
that the use of the concept of “nation-people” by popular revolutionary movements in the
late eighteenth and early nineteenth century was “…precisely that it represented the
common interest against particular interests, the common good against privilege, as
indeed is suggested by the term Americans used before 1800 to indicate nationhood while
avoiding the word itself” (20). In the early years of Brazilian Empire, we can see the lack
of an overarching common good that reached all inhabitants of the geopolitical unit. This
meant that the concept of nationhood was one which had to accompany the military,
economic and political unification of the country, and one in which the written word
would play a strong role.
Brazil would become more politically centralized under the reign of Pedro II, an
era marked by the increased development of a sense of nationhood in which literature
played no small part. Literary critic Antônio Cândido, in the preface to the first edition of
his seminal study of Brazilian literature, makes the pithy, self-deprecating comment
“Compared to others, our literature is poor and weak. But it is that literature, and none
6
other, that represents us” (10). He expands on this in the preface to the edition when
makes the strong claim:
Those who write, contribute to and are signed up for a historical process of
national formulation…the literature of Brazil, like that of other Latin
American countries, is marked by this commitment to the nation’s life as a
whole, a circumstance that is inexistent in countries with an established
culture. 4 (17-18)
Cândido’s work in Formação da literatura brasileira focuses on the colonial period and
the early years of the empire, but the work of writing the Brazilian nation would continue
through Pedro II’s reign and beyond into the Republican era, which began with a coup
d’état in 1889.
While his focus is the national novel during the post World War II wave of
decolonization, Timothy Brennan makes an intriguing connection to First Republic-era
Brazil in his essay “The National Longing for Form.” In this essay, Brennan reinforces
Anderson’s and Cândido’s assertion of the centrality of print media to nation building
when he writes, “…literature participated in the formation of nations through the creation
of ‘national print media’---the newspaper and the novel” (48). As he moves on to discuss
the role of the novel in postcolonial Third World articulations of nationhood, he uses the
1981 novel The War at the End of the World by the Peruvian author Mario Vargas Llosa
as an example. Vargas Llosa’s novel is a fictionalized account of the Canudos Uprising,
among the earliest challenges to Brazil’s First Republic, in which the army violently
crushed a monarchist messianic uprising in the interior of Bahia between 1893 and 1897.
The Canudos Uprising itself spawned one of the quintessential textual narratives of Brazil
as a nation, Euclides da Cunha’s 1902 nonfiction epic Rebellion in the Backlands, a deep
4
Quem escreve, contribui e se inscreve num processo histórico de elaboração nacional…A literatura do
Brasil, como a dos outros países latino-americanos, é marcada por este compromisso com a vida nacional
no seu conjunto, circunstância que inexiste nas literaturas dos países de velha cultura” (17-18)
7
analysis of the Brazilian nation that strongly critiqued the Republican government’s
violence against the inhabitants of the Bahian interior. Brennan chooses to analyze The
War at the End of the World because it builds a bridge between the cosmopolitan Third
World author who sets his novel away from his homeland and the national author who
addresses the concerns of that homeland (many parallels can be drawn to the Shining
Path uprising in Peru in the 1980s). Brennan points out again the importance of the word
in nation building in his analysis of the novel, “Particularly the attention Vargas Llosa
gives to the political mythmaking of the ‘word’…is characteristic of the cosmopolitan
writers of the Third World, who do not participate in the mythmaking, but comment on it
metafictionally” (66). He also mentions the importance of Cunha’s work, which is a
prime example of the role of the writer/intellectual in the national project. Cunha’s book
is an essayistic work which, in addition to explaining the role of violence in the
consecration of the new republic, also tries to portray Brazil’s land, people and spirit in
depth. It is truly an instance of the nation being built on the page.
The presence of the United States in the Brazilian national project becomes more
evident in these early Republican years. The new government borrowed some of the
trappings of U.S.-style republicanism. Frank McCann writes, “They clothed themselves
in as much republican symbolism and rhetoric as possible, even adopting the name
United States of Brazil to curry favor” (34). McCann believes that these approximations
to the United States came, “…from a position of weakness” (34), as the transition from
monarchy to republic was, “… a palace coup, not a republican revolution” (34). Not only
threatened by uprisings like that at Canudos, “The Republic was an object of suspicion in
Monarchical Europe” (34). Allegiance to the United States became a guarantee for the
8
survival of a weak, somewhat unpopular new government. In addition to an increased
alignment to the United States in the realm of foreign policy and in the discursive
trappings of the new republic, there was marked interest in the United States as a
potential model for deeper systemic changes to Brazil. Thomas Skidmore discusses this
presence in his 1986 article “Brazil’s American Illusion,” where he highlights the
parallels Brazilian intellectuals could draw with the United States which made that
country an appealing model for the new republic:
Brazilians saw a powerful affinity with the U.S. Both were continental
countries. Both had abundant natural resources. Both had vast empty
spaces. Both had welcomed European immigration. Both were electoral
democracies (although Brazil’s percentage of adults enfranchised was far
smaller than the U.S.). (72)
Skidmore documents the impact that this parallelism would have on the new system,
which reached as far as the new republican constitution, “The new constitution (1891), in
large part written by Rui Barbosa, the Bahian lawyer-politician, largely copied the U.S.
constitutional structure” (74). Skidmore mentions No paíz dos yankees, an 1894
travelogue by Adolfo Caminha, author of the celebrated novel Bom Crioulo, as an
example of the enthusiasm some felt toward the United States in the early years of the
First Republic.
Caminha delivers unqualified praise to the United States, “The Americans never
tire! No people exceeds their tenacity and perseverance” (142). He goes on to even praise
U.S. chauvinism and pride, claiming, “without this patriotic egoism, nations may live, but
they cannot progress” 5 (142). While he is a proud Brazilian, he claims that if he were not
5
Incansaveis os americanos! Nenhum povo os excede em temeridade e perseverança. Sequiosos de glorias
para o seu paiz, ávidos de emprehendimentos que causem assombro ao mundo, elles tem uma grande
qualidade―o amor á sua terra, o nativismo instinctivo, o chauvinismo (deixem passar o termo)
9
Brazilian he would like to be North American 6 (142), and he makes some mild criticisms
of Brazil’s lack of industrial and economic progress. When he attends an industrial
exposition in New Orleans he comments on the North Americans’ shock 7 that Brazilians
too can build warships and ponders, “Why is that Brazil, with all of the resources it has at
hand, always occupies a secondary place at almost every Exposition in which it
competes? Indifference perhaps. The simple indifference of our government” 8 (80).
Despite his admissions of asymmetry in the relations between the two countries, he also
views the relationship between the two as one of strategic partnership, much like Nabuco
and Rio Branco did. In a particularly powerful passage he describes his ship’s (The same
Almirante Barroso that inspired such awe in the North Americans at the exposition)
arrival in New Orleans and the official reception given by U.S. ships: “From both sides,
from the cruiser and the yachts, hurrahs blended in the air. In lively effusion of
inexpressible patriotic jubilee, the two great powers of America approached each other,
the same breeze rocked the two glorious pavilions” 9 (60). He refers to Brazil and the
United States as the two great powers of the hemisphere, a position that not only flatters
Brazil, but distinguishes it from the rest of Latin America and creates an alignment with
the United States. He concludes his book by comparing the United States to Europe and
incondicional, absoluto, e é força confessar que, sem essa qualidade, sem esse egoismo patriotico, as
nações vivem, mas não progridem (142)
6
É o caso de dizer, parodiando o outro: si eu não fosse brazileiro, desejaria ser americano do norte..(142)
O quê! No Brazil já se constroem navios de guerra?―It is impossible!... E toda a população, tomada de
um quasi espanto, duvidando, talvez, da nossa habilidade, affluía ao caes. (84)
7
8
Porque é que o Brazil, com os numerosos recursos que tem á mão, timbra em occupar logar segundario
em quasi todas as Exposições a que concorre? Indifferença, talvez, simples indifferença de nossos
governos. (80)
9 De ambos os lados, no cruzador e nos hiates, hurrahs confundiam-se no ar. Em viva effusão de
inexprimivel jubilo patriotico estreitavam-se as duas grandes potencias da America; a mesma brisa
balouçava simultaneamente os dois gloriosos pavilhões. (60)
10
makes the claim, “If Germany represents the fatherland of the moral sciences in the
nineteenth century, the United States competes for first place in the ranking of countries
that have struggled for human perfection and well-being” 10 (178). For Caminha, Brazil,
as the other potential great power of the Americas, can join the United States in this quest
for human perfection.
While views about the United States like Caminha’s certainly influenced
Brazilian statecraft at the end of the nineteenth century, they, much like the First
Republic itself, did not stand uncontested. Among the most influential works of Brazilian
literature discussing the United States is Eduardo Prado’s 1893 essay A ilusão americana.
Prado, a well-known Paulista monarchist intellectual, was not so quick to reject Brazilian
ties to Europe, and urged a more cautious approach to the United States. Prado was wary
of capitalism and its abuses, “In modern life capital grows of its own accord, and each
time it grows, it is without a doubt that fate makes the rich become richer and poor
become poorer” 11(174). He describes the United States as a land whose political system
has been corrupted by capital, and mourns, “In all cases the result is the same, because,
whether he must serve the financiers or serve as an instrument of the military, the public
figure loses his independence along with his dignity” 12 (183). Even if Prado were
enthusiastic about U.S.-style capitalism, he would have still manifested trepidations given
that country’s interventionist track record in other Latin American countries. He critiques
10
Si a Allemanha representa no seculo XIX a patria das sciencias moraes, aos Estados-Unidos compete o
primeiro logar na ordem dos paizes que tem concorrido grandemente para o aperfeiçoamento e bem estar
humanos.(178)
11 Na vida moderna o capital cresce por si mesmo, cada vez mais se avoluma, e é fóra de duvida que a
fatalidade faz com que os ricos fiquem cada vez mais ricos e os pobres cada vez mais pobres.” (174).
12
Em todo o caso o resultado é o mesmo, porque, quer tenha de ser servidor dos financeiros, quer tenha de
ser o instrumento dos militares, o homem publico perde, com a sua dignidade, a sua independencia. (183).
11
U.S. policy, “…for a nation that wants to present itself as the protector of Latin
Americans, it is necessary to confess that this policy has not been one of brotherhood, but
rather one of selfishness” 13(24). Prado goes on to provide many examples of U.S.
arrogance and exploitation in Latin American when he discusses cases in Peru, Mexico,
Chile, Nicaragua, Cuba and Brazil itself. He also critiques what he sees as the inherent
violence of the United States. He positively compares Brazil’s approach to the abolition
of slavery to that of the United States. He claims that no Brazilian slaveholder, “…had
the cynicism to want to defend that iniquitous institution, while in the United
States…they published books and sermons with a scientific and even religious apologia
for slavery…” (43-44). He goes on to proclaim the U.S. Civil War as a case when,
“Slavery surmounted patriotism” 14 (44). For Prado, the violence and sadism of the United
States did not end with the Civil War and abolition and eventually states, “Now the
Americans have little respect for human life” 15(223). He claims that the United States,
with its focus on material development, is not a true example of civilizational
development, “Civilization is not measured by material perfectionism, but rather by
moral elevation” 16 (223). The United States, due to its focus on profit, its interference in
Latin America and its violent nature, is not the model of moral elevation that Prado
13
e, para uma nação que se quer apresentar como a protectora dos latinos-americanos, é forçoso confessar
que essa politica não era de fraternidade, mas sim de egoismo” (24).
14
Aquelle grande paiz dera ao mundo um exemplo bem desmoralizador pelo seu apêgo á escravidão.
Emquanto no Brasil não houve escravocratas que tivessem o cynismo de querer legitimar a iniqua
instituição, nos Estados Unidos, onde os senhores de escravos foram muito mais crueis que no Brasil,
publicaram-se livros, sermões, com a apologia scientifica e até religiosa da escravidão, e chegou o
momento em que metade do paiz julgou que, para conservar e estender a escravidão, valia a pena sacrificar
a propria patria americana. O escravismo sobrepujou o patriotismo. (43-44)
15
Ora os americanos têm pouco respeito pela vida humana (223).
16
A civilisação não mede-se pelo aperfeiçoamento material, mas sim pela elevação moral (223)
12
would seek for Brazil. His advice for his homeland is to, “Be ourselves, be what we are,
as only that way will we make something of ourselves” 17 (221).
These texts of Adolfo Caminha and Eduardo Prado are both proudly Brazilian,
and both manifest concern with the future of the homeland. The latter envisions a Brazil
rooted in a humanist, old European monarchist tradition while the former gazes longingly
above the Equator at the other “great power of the Americas,” as a partner and a model.
As the Brazilian intellectual establishment became ever more engaged in the articulation
of national identity over the course of the twentieth century, conceptions of the role of the
United States in relation to Brazil continued to develop, with some thinkers expressing
ideas more aligned with Prado’s wary resistance and others reflecting and even
surpassing Caminha’s and Nabuco’s desire for closer partnership with the great northern
power. While this dissertation will focus on the historical period between 1910 and 1960,
there were many Brazilian intellectuals who had encounters with and interpretations of
the United States in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Tavares Bastos and
Oliveira Lima both wrote on the United States, with Oliveira Lima also having served as
Brazil’s charge d’affaires in Washington D.C. in the years before Brazil established a full
embassy. Oliveira Lima lectured extensively on Brazil in the United States, established
one of the largest collections of Brazilian books and correspondence in the world at
Catholic University in Washington in 1920, and mentored the young Gilberto Freyre
during his years of study in the United States which shall be described more in depth in
the first chapter of this thesis. In her book Americanos, Lúcia Lippi Oliveira also lists
thinkers like, “Alberto Torres, Oliveira Viana and Azevedo Amaral, known as the
17
Sejamos nós mesmos, sejamos o que somos, e só assim seremos algumas coisa” (221).
13
formulators of authoritarian thought in Brazil, are among those who appreciated specific
aspects of American life” 18 (19).
In his book Presença dos Estados Unidos no Brasil, historian Moniz Bandeira
also documents the presence of the United States in intellectual discourse at the start of
this time period, with a particular focus on the debates that surrounded U.S. cultural
influences after the First World War. He quotes Gilberto Amado who, “…called
Brazilians’ attention to the particular spirit of North America, ‘its political institutions,
its life, American life,’ to show that there were, ‘some things about the American world
that did not look like Europe’” 19 (208). He goes on to cite intellectuals who were less
enthusiastic about the United States than Amado, specifically Agripino Grieco and Alceu
Amoroso Lima. Bandeira quotes one of Grieco’s texts from 1922:
Those unaesthetic fakers, at the same time that they were criminally
suppressing the poor Indians to have open land for their adventurous life
of plunder, a practice that went uninterrupted by even the worst of
depredations, they did not forget to thank the Lord for his infinite mercy,
thus turning Jehovah’s Bible into an odious accomplice to those infamies.
(209-210) 20
Much like Eduardo Prado, Grieco focused on the violence and hypocrisy of the United
States, albeit while ignoring a similar rapacious violence that was present in Brazil’s own
history.
18
Alberto Torres, Oliveira Viana e Azevedo Amaral, conhecidos como formuladores do pensamento
autoritário no Brasil, estão entre os que apreciavam aspectos específicos da vida americana” (19).
19
… chamava a atenção dos brasileiros para o gênio particular da América do Norte, “suas instituições
políticas, a sua vida, a vida americana”, para mostrar que havia “algumas coisa no mundo que é Americano
e não se parece com a Europa.” (208).
20 Esses inestéticos farsantes, ao mesmo tempo que iam suprimindo criminosamente os pobre índios, para
terem campo livre à sua vida aventurosa de rapinagem, à prática ininterrupta das piores depredações, não se
esqueciam de dar graças ao Senhor pela sua infinita misericórdia, tornando assim o biblio Jeová cúmplice
odioso de todas essa infâmias. (209-210)
14
Alceu Amoroso Lima also shared Prado’s opinion that Brazil should not look to
the United States as a model, although his critique of the United States in his younger
years was less exaggerated than that of Prado or Grieco. Lima, whose 1954 book, A
realidade americana, will be analyzed in the final chapter of this dissertation, wrote
under the pseudonym Tristão de Athayde for much of his life, and commented
extensively on the United States in his essays. Bandeira summarizes and cites some of
these texts: (italics are Bandeira’s)
Alceu de Amoroso Lima (Tristão de Athaide) was not as biting [as
Grieco], but he also showed himself to be quite critical in his opinions of
the United States. He understood the role of automobile and of cinema as
instruments for the penetration of American culture, which had begun to
seduce Brazilians. He saw the cinema as two continuous hours of
hypnotization over the passive masses, who, disarmed by the incessant
music, unwillingly allowed their subconscious to be inoculated by all that
happened on screen. The United States, for him, were admirable but not
imitable in all aspects. “If the United States has refused our form of
civilization…our duty can be only one: to refuse the form of civilization
that they, insidiously or subconsciously, (through this new form of
imperialism, the most effective of imperialisms) want to impose on us, and
try to be ourselves, much in the way that try to be themselves”---he
observed in 1928. 21 (210)
This plea for Brazilians to be themselves in the face of an obviously successful new
model to the North and a long consecrated model across the Atlantic was leading to a
tempestuous period of national soul searching on the intellectual front as well as dramatic
changes on the political, economic and cultural fronts with the rise of Getúlio Vargas and
Alceu de Amoroso Lima (Tristão de Athaide) não usou de tanta mordacidade, mas se mostrou bastante
critico nas suas opinions sobre os Estados Unidos. Compreendeu o papel do automóvel e do cinema, como
instrumentos de penetração da cultura Americana, que começava a seduzir os brasileiros. Via o cinema
duas horas continuas de hipnotização sobre a massa passive, que desagregada pela música incessante,
deixava inocular o subsconsciente, sem querer, de tudo o que se passa na tela. Os Estados Unidos eram,
para ele, admiráveis mas não imitáveis em tudo. “Se os Estados Unidos repudiam de nossa forma de
civilização (…), o nosso dever só pode ser um: repudiar a forma de civilização que eles, insidioisamente ou
inconscientemente (por meio desse imperialism do exito, que ºe o mais eficaz dos imperialismos) nos
querem impor, e procurarmos ser nós mesmos, da mesma forma que eles procuram sere les mesmos”--observava em 1928. (210)
21
15
a new trend toward national unification and centralization. Over the course 1930s, 1940s
and 1950s, Brazil would change dramatically, and intellectuals would lay the foundation
for discourses of national identity that would influence political and social policy until
the present day.
The Brazilian intellectual elite had remained oriented toward Europe, particularly
Portugal and France, for decades following independence, but there were many attempts
to define the nation and its intellectual identity as something other than an involuntarily
subordinate extension of the European tradition. Brazilian romanticism mythologized a
pre-colonial past as means of distinguishing Brazil from Europe through books like José
de Alencar’s Iracema (1865) and Ubirajara (1874) and Carlos Gomes’s opera O Guarani
(1870). This introduction’s examination of Joaquim Nabuco’s early diplomatic ties to the
United States illustrates the ways Brazil tried to politically separate itself from Europe.
Despite these gestures, there was still a sense of disconnect between these imported ideas
and the reality of the Brazilian nation-in-process. While Brazilian thinkers and politicians
were inheritors of the humanist ideals of classical civilization, further mediated by an
Ibero-Catholic tradition, as well as disciples of the same Enlightenment principles that
spawned independence movements in much of the New World, they were also members
of a deeply unequal, violent, slave-holding agrarian society in which the concept of favor
had infiltrated and corrupted the social structure. In his essay “As idéias fora do lugar,”
Roberto Schwarz discusses this paradox at length, with a particular focus on the way
these “misplaced ideas” affect the nation-building project of Brazilian literature, “In the
process of reproducing its social order, Brazil unceasingly affirms and reaffirms
European ideas, always improperly” (29). Schwarz postulates that to understand the
16
literature created out of this apparent misuse of imported ideas one must comprehend the
global structures that contribute to Brazilian intellectuals’ marginalization:
In other words, we have defined a vast and heterogeneous, but structured,
field, which is a historical consequence, and can be an artistic origin.
While studying it, we saw that it differs from the European field, although
using the same vocabulary. Therefore, difference, comparison and
distance are part of its very definition: sometimes reason is on our side,
sometimes it belongs to others, but it always appears in an ambiguous
light. (30)
If we expand Schwarz’s ideas about literature to encompass broader articulations of
national identity, it becomes highly relevant to examine Brazilian discussions of the
United States and its ideological system. Brazilian evaluations of the United States
possess a simultaneous examination and perhaps imitation of that country, but they also
present a strong recognition of asymmetries and a desire to defend Brazil in the face of an
ascendant power that, in many ways, seemed like an analogue of Brazil.
São Paulo’s Modern Art Week of 1922 exploded into a search for a more
uniquely Brazilian identity in the arts, music and literature that would in turn fuel the
work of intellectuals in fields like publishing, literary criticism and the social sciences to
create some of the most enduring articulations of Brazilian identity ever published. Books
like Urupês (1918), Retrato do Brasil (1928), Casa-grande e senzala (1933), Raízes do
Brasil (1936), and Formação do Brasil contemporâneo (1942) would define Brazil on its
own terms and infiltrate discussions of brasilidade at all levels of society for decades. It
could be assumed that this search for an articulation of nationality would demand a
strongly inward gaze, but these works actively engaged the outside world in a quest to
define Brazil, with particular attention given to Portugal and Spain, other Latin American
nations, and, as will be the focus of this dissertation, the United States. As illustrated in
17
this introduction, Brazilian perceptions of the United States had an enormous role to play
in this process of national identity formation. It is important to recognize the reciprocal
nature of the relationship between national identity formation and perceptions of the
United States. Through an analysis of texts that deal with the United States published
between 1917 and 1955 by prominent Brazilian intellectuals Gilberto Freyre, Monteiro
Lobato, Erico Verissimo, Rachel de Queiroz, Vianna Moog and Alceu Amoroso Lima, I
intend to illustrate not only the ways in which the idea of the United States influenced
discussions of Brazilian identity, but also the ways in which a firmer discourse of
brasilidade influenced perceptions of the United States and its role vis-à-vis Brazil. This
analysis will establish a general trajectory, albeit one which is not free of exceptions,
which describes Brazilian intellectual perceptions of the United States during this time
period. This trajectory begins just after the First World War, with the United States being
warily held up as a possible model for Brazilian economic, social and political
development. As influential articulations of Brazilian national identity began to emerge in
the 1930s, accompanied by a growing influx of U.S. cultural and, during the Second
World War, economic products, a greater sense of self-confidence led to a view of the
United States as a partner, although one which needed to do more to respect Brazil and
Brazilian society. In the postwar era, the United States’ new dominance as the “leader of
the free world,” led to a more skeptical view of the nascent superpower. A strong sense of
nationalism in Brazil during this era, as well as international interest in Brazil as a model
for race relations, led to a confidence that Brazil may in fact present an alternative
approach to Western Civilization. The United States had transformed from an intriguing
model to a potential partner to a domineering master in the writing of intellectual figures.
18
Given the earlier discussion of Brazil’s profound inequality, a problem even
today, however mitigated by economic development and governmental programs over the
past decades, one may doubt the importance of analyzing the work of an intellectual elite
that is unrepresentative of the nation as a whole. Timothy Brennan defends the
importance of Third World intellectuals, even if they are less representative of the overall
nation than their First World counterparts, in his explanation of the postcolonial novel in
“The National Longing for Form.” :
And yet it is precisely here that the greatest paradox of the new novel can
be seen. For under conditions of illiteracy and shortages, and given the
leisure-time necessary for reading one, the novel has been an elitist and
minority form in developing countries when compared to poem, song,
television and film. Almost inevitably it has been the form through which
a thin, foreign-educated stratum (however sensitive or committed to
domestic political interests) has communicated to metropolitan reading
publics, often in translation. (56)
These intellectuals and their products, therefore, exert a far more profound influence on
the discussion of national identity than their small numbers would suggest. The
discourses produced and debated by these intellectuals have international resonance, and
strongly affects the media and political structures of their homelands, thus swaying public
opinion. In a recent article by Andrew Baker and David Cupery presenting a statistical
analysis of patterns of anti-American sentiment in Latin America, they cite John R.
Zaller:
There is an important strain of research in political psychology, however,
that doubts that material self-interest plays an important role in public
opinion formation. Instead, many political psychologists find that citizens
arrive at their beliefs on important political and social issues not by
reasoning for themselves but by absorbing elite rhetoric (118).
19
Therefore, the types of reactions that Brazilian intellectual elites have to the United
States, particularly those which have been published, indeed may fuel broader feelings of
national identity and popular views of the United States in relation to Brazil.
This dissertation is divided into three chapters that correspond to a selective
chronological overview of Brazilian writing at this time in history. Rather than present a
comprehensive survey of Brazilian intellectual writing about the United States at each
point in time, each chapter will focus on the life and work of a choice number of major
figures and their contribution to Brazilian discussions of the United States. The first
chapter will examine the inter-American experiences of two of the most important
contributors to Brazilian discourse on national identity: sociologist, politician and author
of the seminal Casa-grande e senzala, Gilberto Freyre, and essayist, author and
publisher, Monteiro Lobato. Freyre and Lobato are among the most recognizable
Brazilian intellectuals of all time, and both were active in the 1920s and 1930s. The two
men knew each other, and both were deeply engaged in the work of interpreting Brazil
and creating a distinctly Brazilian intellectual culture. Both men had lengthy intimate
contact with the United States, and it is impossible to ignore the influence that this
American experience had on their interpretations of Brazil. The nature of their
experiences differs significantly, with implications for the ways that the United States
appears in their work.
Freyre had an Anglo-American education, beginning with private tutors in his
childhood, via his adolescent conversion to Baptism and association with U.S.
missionaries in his native Recife, and most significantly, through his studies at Baylor
and Columbia universities as a young man from 1917-1921. As has been documented by
20
biographer Maria Lúcia Pallares-Burke in her book Um vitoriano dos trópicos, the
sociologist was deeply assimilated into an Anglo-American worldview (Pallares-Burke
stresses the Anglo side of this hyphen), and this intellectual alienation from Brazil in fact
raised his interest in interpreting his homeland. His exposure to a wealth of foreign ideas
and his own frustrations with certain elements of the United States instigated an
intellectual trajectory that would lead to his radical valorization of Brazil in the face of
Europe and the United States in Casa~grande e senzala. Lobato was older than Freyre,
and had a completely Brazilian intellectual formation. He was educated in São Paulo, the
state where he would spend most of his life. In spite of this, he was in thrall of the
progress that he perceived above the Equator. Thomas Skidmore details Lobato’s
enthusiasm for the United States as a model for Brazil. He writes, “In the early 1920s
Lobato had been fascinated with the U.S. He regarded Henry Ford as the epitome of
American efficiency (the ‘Jesus Christ of Industry’ in Lobato’s own words), and
translated two of Ford’s books” (77). Lobato was able to eventually gain firsthand
knowledge of the society he so admired when he served as a commercial attaché for four
years from 1927 to 1931. Skidmore states of this time, “In Monteiro Lobato’s judgment,
the reality of the U.S. fully equaled the society he had imagined” (77). Despite significant
losses in the stock market crash of 1929 and a lack of success in the U.S. publishing
industry, Lobato never lost his enthusiasm. Again, Skidmore summarizes, “Lobato
personified, on a somewhat exaggerated level, more than a few Brazilians’ hopes that
they could emulate U.S. success” (78).
Through an analysis of biographical works, published writings and both
anthologized and archived correspondence, I examine these two intellectuals’ differing
21
American experiences and the divergent ways that they influenced their own ideas about
their homeland. The youthful Freyre, fully immersed in Anglo-American culture and
society, used this alienation from his own society as inspiration for his own in depth
discussion of Brazil that emerges in his many books and columns. The more mature
Lobato, who had spent his younger years highlighting Brazil’s problems in essays like
those published in Urupês (1918), saw solutions in the United States, building an
enthusiasm that his own imperfect American experience later in life could not damper.
Both men shared certain observations about the United States, particularly about
the overwhelmingly rapid pace of development and the social upheaval that they
perceived as the result of the women’s rights movement. They also were both intrigued
by the U.S. approach to race relations, an area of society where the United States
paralleled Brazil in some ways. While Freyre is most known today for his defense of
miscegenation, which he claims as a uniquely Luso-Brazilian approach to the problem of
race relations, in his columns for the Diário de Pernambuco he expresses interest in the
approach he witnessed in the United States, even as he would later admit in interviews
and memoirs to his repulsion at racism in the U.S. South. Lobato has recently occupied
the center of a controversial debate over racism in his writing, both for children and
adults. In 1926 he published a science fiction novel set in the United States entitled O
presidente negro: ou o choque das raças that appears to embrace a Mendelian approach
to eugenics that was popular in the United States. While some scholars like Marisa Lajolo
have defended Lobato by claiming that the novel is a satirical interpretation of the very
real racist violence that plagued both countries at the time, others like Daphne Patai and
M. Elizabeth Ginway have found that the novel reflects racialist eugenic views inspired
22
by U.S. racial discourse that Lobato held. Though their views of the comparison of race
relations in Brazil and the United States may have been mutable, it cannot be denied that
discussions of race were central to both Freyre’s and Lobato’s writing on the United
States, and they will occupy a significant portion of this chapter. Regardless of the
similarities and differences between Freyre’s and Lobato’s experiences and
interpretations of the United States, the first chapter of this dissertation illustrates that the
United States occupied a pivotal role as inspiration and point of comparison in their
articulations of Brazilian national identity in the 1920s and 1930s.
By the time of the Second World War and the accompanying increase in interest
in Brazil on the part of the United States, Brazilian intellectuals were themselves
embracing more stable and authoritative definitions of their national identity. The second
chapter of this thesis will focus specifically on the travel writing of one author, Erico
Verissimo, and its illustration of this more assertive Brazilian contribution to discussions
of U.S.-Brazil relations. Verissimo was far from anti-American, and his two travelogues
Gato preto em campo de neve (1941), and A volta do gato preto (1946) simultaneously
sing the praises of the United States as a dynamic nation and establish space for a
Brazilian interpreter of the ascendant power. Verissimo travelled to the United States
under the auspices of David Rockefeller’s Office for the Coordination of Inter-American
Affairs (OCIAA) in 1940, and made a whirlwind tour of the country just before it had
entered into the Second World War. Verissimo’s books are, in the words of Nelson
Vieira, “kaleidoscopic” explorations of the United States that attempt to capture the souls
of the North American people. Verissimo’s project was to provide his reading public with
a Brazilian’s take on the United States, free of the filters of Hollywood and of Brazilian
23
intellectual prejudices regarding the United States. This distinctive project, one which
humanizes the abstracted Northern giant while also reaffirming a Brazilian national
subjectivity that is as able to formulate judgments about “the other” as those of Europe
and the United States, bears the stamp of the more solid sense of national identity
established during the Vargas era.
My analysis of Verissimo’s travel narratives involve close reading of both books
supplemented by correspondence, short stories and memoirs by the author. Verissimo’s
first visit to the United States came at a particularly engaged era in United States-Brazil
relations, and his travels involved a great deal of work as a cultural representative for
Brazil. Furthermore, his own personal career ambitions, which from the start had
followed a different trajectory from those of many other Brazilian public intellectuals (he
had originally worked as a pharmacist and became a renowned writer after work in the
publishing industry), made him quite sympathetic to the United States, a country whose
narrative of the “self-made man” held great appeal. Verissimo had found great
commercial success in Brazil in the 1940s and 1950s, and the recent work of Richard
Cándida Smith as well as Verissimo’s own memoirs illustrate the ways in which his own
self-conception as a career writer differed from those of Brazilian intellectuals of the era.
His Gato preto books were enormously successful at the time that they were published,
and they serve to illustrate not only the relationship between Brazil and the United States
at this moment in time, but also the role of travel narrative in the development of that
relationship.
I focus most intensely on three main elements of these travelogues in this chapter:
Verissimo’s attempt to identify and problematize himself as narrator, his near-obsession
24
with characterization and the humanization of those he encountered on his journey to the
United States, and his struggle to resist the asymmetrical power dynamics that his visit to
the United States symbolized. In reference to the first of these elements, Verissimo
focuses on the limitations that one writer can have when compelled to create a general
portrait of a vast nation like the United States, and he makes it clear that the narrator of
his travelogues is not necessarily the most reliable of figures. He creates conversations
between himself and a younger incarnation he has baptized Malazarte in the first book,
and creates a fictional set of correspondence between Brazilian characters named Tobias
and Fernanda in the second one. He reflects profoundly on these kinds of dialogues as a
useful way of discussing another society without pontification.
In addition to his transforming himself into a character within his own travelogue,
Verissimo dedicates much of his texts to the characterization of various North Americans
that he meets over the course of his travels. In his two journeys to the United States,
Verissimo encountered a vast range of people, including many prominent figures in
literature, academia and entertainment. He profiles Pearl Buck, Thornton Wilder, Thomas
Mann and Walt Disney, among others. Despite the opportunity to rub shoulders with
these notables, he does not neglect the common people that he met, and describes all
types of people, creating fantastic backstories when he does not know the person’s true
story. Verissimo’s project was to create a human portrait of a nation that could seem like
a monolithic abstraction. While this may appear to be complicity in a U.S-backed project
to build sympathy toward the controversial world power among the Brazilian reading
public, there is an aspect of resistance in Verissimo’s “soul hunting”. He did not only
paint flattering portraits of North Americans; he documented the ignorance, arrogance
25
and prejudice that he encountered as well. Furthermore, by presenting his own truth, one
told to Brazilians from their perspective and in their language, Verissimo was ensuring
that his reading public would not be held hostage to the images of the United States
furnished by Hollywood, the OCIAA and the State Department. In a discussion of the
problematic aspects of travel literature as pointed out by Tzvetan Todorov, Michel de
Certeau and Debbie Lisle, we can see Verissimo’s work, Pan-American in ideology but
distinctively Brazilian in style, as something of an aberration to a more standard
interpretation of travel narrative as a building block of imperial taxonomies and
asymmetrical relations of knowledge and power.
The third and final chapter of this dissertation will examine the texts of four
different Brazilian intellectuals who wrote in the decade following World War Two. In
the postwar years, the United States seemed to have lost interest in the nation it had
pursued so aggressively at the start of the war. Brazilian politicians were frustrated by
this change in priorities on the part of the United States, particularly when it concerned
the economic and developmental aid that had been such an important element of U.S.
approximation during the early 1940s. In addition to this sense of abandonment on the
part of an ally, there was a growing concern over U.S. arrogance in a new, bipolar world.
The United States demanded total allegiance in its battle with communism, even if it did
not seem to reciprocate that same attention. This more pronounced arrogance in
international relations was accompanied by an increase in the presence of U.S. private
capital in Brazil as well as even more cultural imperialism in the form of cinema,
literature and popular music. Brazil was cajoled and confronted by the American way of
life, even as the United States had seemed to turn its back on a longtime ally.
26
The first text to be analyzed in this chapter is Rachel de Queiroz’s short story
“Tangerine-Girl,” which will be read in comparison to “Beware the Brazilian Navy,” a
story by U.S. author Ruth McKenney. These two stories describe encounters between
local women and foreign military men. In Queiroz’s story it is a Brazilian girl who is
disappointed and dehumanized by U.S. servicemen, while in McKenney’s an American
reporter is distracted by Brazilian sailors in search of a good time. The contrasting
treatment of these encounters by these two authors illustrates the power dynamics of
Brazil-U.S. relations at this point in time, with Brazil clearly dominated by the United
States. Reference to Liane Schneider’s recent work on Queiroz’s story also highlights the
infiltration of U.S. cultural products and values among Brazilian youth during and after
the Second World War. Queiroz’s portrayal of this encounter is a scathing critique of the
United States’ lack of sensitivity in its dealings with Brazil, a theme she would also
return to repeatedly in her influential “Última página” column in the widely circulated
Cruzeiro magazine (analogous to Life magazine in the United States), several examples
of which will also be analyzed in this chapter.
Gilberto Freyre himself was also a columnist for Cruzeiro in the early 1950s.
During this time, a period in which many of his earlier assertions of Brazil’s successful
solution to racial inequality were being actively questioned by social scientists like
Florestan Fernandes, Fernando Henrique Cardoso and Octavio Ianni, he went on the
defensive and used his columns to defend Brazil’s record on race relations. Among his
defensive tactics was the comparison of Brazil’s seemingly pacific system of race
relations to the growing crisis the United States was facing. The Brazilian government
embraced this comparison, which positioned Brazil as a potential role model for other
27
societies. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs (Itamaraty) published a pamphlet by a U.S.
writer, Eugene Gordon, which praised Brazilian “racial amalgamation,” and the higher
education system welcomed the scholars sent by UNESCO to investigate Brazil’s
apparent racial harmony, scholars whose findings would lead to the refutation of
Freyrean ideas of racial democracy in the social sciences by the end of the decade.
Despite the scientifically-proven realities, the ideological strength of the idea of Brazil’s
supposed racial democracy as a global model, factored in with a general climate of
optimistic nationalism that suffused the postwar era, meant that intellectuals began
thinking of Brazil as a possible leader to an alternate approach to the leadership of the
Western World.
In 1954, two noteworthy Brazilian books dealing with the United States were
published, and these works, Vianna Moog’s Bandeirantes e pioneiros and Alceu
Amoroso Lima’s A realidade americana will be the last works to be analyzed in this
study. Moog’s opus is a comparative study of the United States and Brazil that focuses on
national symbols and the identification of each country’s ethos. Moog digs deep into
theological differences between the Catholic and Protestant worlds to find explanations
for the United States’ seeming success in the face of Brazil’s struggle for development.
Although the book makes profound criticisms of the very roots of Brazilian society,
particularly in regard to work ethic and a Eurocentric mazombismo that kept elites from
establishing psychological roots to their homeland, it concludes by claiming that Brazil
was overcoming these negative traits and heading toward a future in which the best of its
humanist Catholic heritage could give it a leading role in the Western World, whereas the
United States had fallen out of balance and was heading down a path of neuroses into a
28
time of crisis. A close friend of Erico Verissimo, Moog also had extensive experience in
the United States, and his book is as much an expose of current U.S. problems as it is a
paean to the country’s glorious pioneering history. Lima’s book is less grand in scope. He
focuses more specifically on the United States, a nation with which he grew intimate
when he served as Director of Cultural Affairs for the Organization of American States in
the early 1950s (he was succeeded by Verissimo). Lima, cited earlier in this introduction
as critical of the United States in the 1920s, seemed to have a turnaround regarding the
country after he grew to know it better, a phenomenon discussed by Marcelo Timótheo
Costa using the example of A realidade americana. In his book he praises certain
elements of the United States, while still criticizing the role of capital and the McCarthy
era witch hunts that he witnessed firsthand in Washington. While he does not seem to
fear U.S. imperialism in his evaluation of the country, he never changes the view that he
expressed as far back as 1928, one which he shared with Eduardo Prado, that Brazil
should stay Brazil. Given the intense scrutiny given to both the question of national
identity and the role of the United States during the intervening decades, he would have
less to worry about in 1954, at least on the intellectual and cultural levels.
My research serves to expand on work by scholars like Thomas Skidmore,
Antônio Tota, Moniz Bandeira and Lúcia Lippi Oliveira by examining Brazilian texts on
the United States in greater depth and establishing a narrative and chronological
trajectory of discourses involving the United States as part of a broader history of
Brazilian ideas. While my dissertation attempts to create an historical narrative of the
presence of the United States in Brazilian intellectual debates, it uses the tool of
qualitative textual analysis. I have engaged in archival research, and consulted
29
correspondence, newspaper and magazine articles that pertain to the intellectual figures
covered in this work, but this archival research, rather than comprising the main body of
material analyzed in this thesis, serves to enhance closer readings and textual
interpretations of other works, thus creating a historical narrative of ideas. By
highlighting the U.S. encounters of literary figures like Gilberto Freyre, Monteiro Lobato
and Erico Verissimo, who are more often studied in the Brazilian national context, I
intend for this research to enhance literary analyses of these writers. By creating an
historical narrative that focuses on ideas and textual analysis, I hope to also furnish
scholars who work more with the social sciences and political history with deeper
insights into Brazilian perceptions of the United States. After all, Thomas Skidmore
himself writes: “Yet one of the most valuable sources on the history of international
relations are the prominent writers who interpret for their fellow citizens the importance
of other countries. By their arguments they provoke debate and thereby illuminate what
their society---or its elite---are thinking” (71). A deeper understanding of these debates is
essential to the study of Brazilian literature and history, as well as to a better
understanding of the United States in and of itself. Given the asymmetries in the
relationship between Brazil and the United States, it behooves any U.S. scholar
concerned with the negative repercussions this imbalance of power exerts on the delicate
relationship between the two American giants, to understand the Brazilian perspective,
and to recognize the Brazilian voice.
30
Chapter One: Parallel Sojourns, Divergent Trajectories: The Inter-American
Encounters of Gilberto Freyre and Monteiro Lobato.
In April of 1923, a youthful Gilberto Freyre, recently returned from several years
studying and traveling in the United States and Europe, sent a letter to his friend, the
influential publisher and essayist Monteiro Lobato. In this letter he remarks on a new
enthusiasm for his homeland after so many years in the Northern Hemisphere.
I’m filling up on coconut water and sugarcane juice to satisfy my nostalgic
yearning for a tropical landscape. Tomorrow a parrot should arrive to me
from the interior and with this worthy living example of Pernambucan
nature, the “local colour” around me will be complete. (Freyre 4 Apr.
1923) 22
It is essential to note that Freyre self-consciously writes “local colour” in English in this
letter. Freyre knew that his own perspective on Brazil had changed after five years
abroad, and for him the trappings of a normal Pernambucan life had become “local
colour.” This Freyre was a young intellectual filled with promise, a man who, in his own
memoirs, recalls that his professors in the United States claimed could have been the next
George Santayana or Joseph Conrad had he stayed abroad. His time and place, however,
was to be Brazil in the 1930s, a temporal and geographic location he would share with
Monteiro Lobato. Both writers would gain renown for their attempts to create a proud
Brazil that valued what it had to offer its citizens, and that could move forward as a
model of a successful tropical civilization. Both writers investigated Brazilian folklore as
a way of building a stronger sense of national identity. Freyre, however, wrote for an
22
Estou a fartar-me de água de coco e caldo de cana a satisfazer minha ânsia saudosa de paysagem tropical.
Há de vir-me amanhã ou depois do interior um papagaio e com esta justa ente viva de natureza
pernambucana estará completa a local colour em volta de mim.
31
understanding of Brazil’s past and the valorization of the mixture of cultures that led to
Brazil. Monteiro Lobato, on the other hand, fought to break free from this past and build
a scientifically-oriented Brazil aimed at material prosperity and modeled on a certain
success story above the equator. The two intellectuals seem to lack common ground in
their visions for a better Brazil, visions that were two of many being constructed during
this influential decade.
The 1930s were turbulent years throughout the world. The bitter effects of 1929’s
stock market crash created an environment of economic uncertainty and political turmoil.
Movements like Fascism and Communism became more prominent in the industrialized
world, and colonized societies manifested incipient struggles for liberation. Brazil was a
participant of this narrative of the 1930s, with a dependent economy reeling from a
decline in purchasing capacity for its primary products and a political system riven by
struggles between a more unified and audacious left, a growing fascist movement on the
right and a rapidly coalescing authoritarian state under Getúlio Vargas. Nevertheless, it
was during this conflict-riven decade that many of the social and intellectual traits of
today’s Brazil surfaced. While the political establishment repressed opposition, it also
fostered a mass-media climate that created unprecedented national unity, a feat made all
the more impressive given that interstate rivalries led to brief a civil war in São Paulo in
the decade’s earliest years. Brazil’s entry into the World War II era as a more unified
nation with a nascent industrial economy and a growing regional profile was not simply
the result of political coercion and repression. In spite of limitations on political
discourse, the 1930s were a remarkably prolific era for the Brazilian intelligentsia,
32
particularly in connection with the articulation of a national identity and the creation of a
project for national progress.
As illustrated in the introduction to this thesis, the discussion of Brazilian national
identity was in full swing by 1930. Debates around the Republic and its appropriateness
to Brazil’s social reality were a salient aspect of Brazilian intellectual discourse
throughout the 1920s and earlier. Figures like Manoel Bonfim had been trying to
establish a broader way of explaining Brazil’s sociopolitical uniqueness, as well as its
connections to and differences from the rest of Latin America. Furthermore, 1922’s São
Paulo Modern Art Week had led to a strong drive to define brasilidade in the arts.
Literary figures like Oswald de Andrade and Mário de Andrade had spoken to a Brazilian
reality that stood out from the imitation of European models that had reigned over
Brazilian letters before 1922. What makes the 1930s (and early 1940s) so unique is the
continuing resonance of nonfiction writing on Brazilian identity that emerged in that
period. Three works published between 1930 and 1945 are indicated by literary critic
Antônio Cândido as particularly influential: Gilberto Freyre’s 1933 Casa grande e
senzala, Sérgio Buarque de Holanda’s 1936 Raizes do Brasil and Caio Prado Junior’s
1943 Formção do Brasil contemporâneo. Cândido comments, “These are the books that
we can consider essential, those that seem to express the mentality linked to the breath of
intellectual radicalism and social analysis that erupted after the Revolution of 1930 and
was not, in spite of it all, quashed by the Estado Novo” 23 (9).
23
São estes os livros que podemos considerar chaves, os que parecem exprimir a mentalidade ligada ao
sopro de radicalismo intellectual e análise social que eclodiu depois da Revolução de 1930 e não foi, apesar
de tudo, abafado pelo Estado Novo. (9)
33
Freyre’s study stands out not only as the first of these books to be published, but
also as a resounding defense of Brazilian culture. Until the 1930s, much Brazilian
intellectual production was dedicated to critiques of the nation and its culture as being
inferior to Europe (and at times North America). These critiques were a reflection of
contemporary European conceptions of racial hierarchy, and as such inherently put
Brazilian intellectuals at a disadvantage. In the preface to his study of racial thought in
Brazil before 1930, Black into White, Thomas Skidmore comments:
The issues of race (and the related ones of climatic determinism) were,
however, being discussed in Europe, and Europeans did not shrink from
expressing themselves in unflattering terms about Latin America, and
especially Brazil, because of its large African influence. Brazilians read
these writers, usually uncritically, and grew apprehensive. Derivative in
their culture, self-consciously imitative in their thought, mid nineteenthcentury Brazilians, like other Latin Americans, were ill-equipped to argue
about the latest social doctrines from Europe. (viii-ix)
Freyre’s reclamation of Brazil’s African and indigenous elements as essential building
blocks of a tropical civilization thus emerged as a radical shift. In the introduction to a
volume on Gilberto Freyre and Latin American studies, Joshua Lund and Malcolm
McNee quote Antônio Cândido, “It is difficult for you today to evaluate the impact of
that publication. It was a genuine earthquake…You need to forget later critiques of the
conservatism of many of Freyre’s positions because from the perspective of the history of
ideas, his book acted as a radical force” (7).
24
Hermano Vianna, an anthropologist who,
along with historians like Ricardo Benzaquén de Araújo, is considered part of a
“retomada freyreana” in the last two decades discussed by scholars like Christopher Dunn
24
.Hoje é difícil a vocês avaliar o impacto dessa publicação. Foi um verdadeiro terremoto...É preciso vocês
esquecerem as críticas posteriores sobre o corte conservador de muitas posições de Gilberto Freyre porque
numa perspectiva de história de idéias o livro dele atuou como força radical... (7).
34
(35), comments on this seeming sudden shift in paradigms. In his work O mistério do
samba, Vianna comments:
As we will see, Freyre described The Masters and the Slaves as the result
of a sudden spiritual illumination, leading to a ‘kind of psychoanalytic
cure’ for the whole country, but this and similar explanations only
underline the mysterious and abruptness and discontinuity implied in the
narratives of ‘discovery,’ in which the true Brazil, so long hidden by the
false Brazil, is suddenly uncovered and its true value recognized. (13)
The book, while not without influential predecessors including Nina Rodrigues and
especially Manoel Bomfim, both of whom are extensively cited by Freyre, was
nevertheless viewed as a revolutionary proposition to valorize Brazilian culture for what
it was, or at least for what Freyre purported it to be, a culture partially rooted in but
fundamentally different from European culture and worthy of celebration on its own
terms.
Monteiro Lobato, on the other hand, seemed to find very little worth celebrating
in his Brazil apart from a rich folklore, regardless of the terms. In his 1932 travelogue
América he writes a dialogue between himself as narrator and a fictional English
interlocutor, Mr. Slang.
---We neglect what’s ours. We should intensify propaganda about Brazil.
My Englishman smiled, somewhat pityingly.
---Propaganda for what, my dear? It’s hard to say this, but you have
nothing to present the world.
---Nonsense! I exclaimed almost offended to my patriotic core. This is too
much. We have the right to be known, to make what’s ours known…
----What’s there to know? What things? Reflect for a minute before you
repeat the same hollow phrases as everybody.
I reflected for a moment and choked. Really---what was there to know?
(77). 25
25
Descuramos das nossas coisas. Deviamos intensificar a propaganda do Brasil...
Meu inglês sorriu, levemente apiedado.
---Propaganda do que, meu caro? É duro dizer issto, mas vocês ainda não têm nada a apresentar
35
Monteiro Lobato makes it clear that he wants to feel more pride in his nation, but in essay
after essay he also implies that Brazil has done little to merit that pride. Unlike Freyre,
who saw his writing as a tool to encourage Brazilians to engage in their past and their
distinct identity, Monteiro Lobato viewed himself as an avenging angel whose work as a
publisher and writer would lay bare Brazil’s faults and incite his countrymen to action.
While the ideological legacies bequeathed by these two figures differ, it is worth
noting the similarities of the respective intellectual environments from which their
writings on Brazil emerged over the course of 1920s and 1930s. Among the most salient
common elements of the two writers’ intellectual formation was extensive contact with
the United States. Freyre spent formative years in the United States studying at Baylor
and Columbia between 1918 and 1922. Various scholars have analyzed the significance
of this sojourn, and it is undeniable that the United States imprinted the young
intellectual. Freyre’s experiences with technological and social development, populism
and anti-elitism and race relations in the United States would all contribute to his later
discussions of Brazil. Monteiro Lobato lacked real world contact with the United States
until later in life, but the country had occupied a prominent position in the writer’s
worldview long before then. He lived in the United States from 1927 to 1931, paralleling
Freyre by a decade and at a later time in his intellectual life. He had gone into his interAmerican experience with pre-established positive opinions of the United States as a
ao mundo.
---Como não! Exclamei quasi ofendido nas minhas visceras patrioticas. Isso tambem é demais.
direito de ser conhecidos, de fazer as nossas coisas conhecidas...
---Conhecer o quê? Que coisas? Reflita um minuto em vez de repetir frases ocas de toda gente.
Refleti um minuto e engasguei. Realmente---que coisas. (77).
36
Temos o
success story, to which he contrasted his homeland. He was enthusiastic about Henry
Ford and U.S. thinking on race and eugenics, and included these ideas, even if satirically,
in his only novel aimed at an adult audience, O presidente negro.
Both of these intellectuals experienced the United States at a bombastic,
triumphant peak of the 1920s. This was a nation reluctantly emerging into international
primacy after the European disaster of the First World War. It was an era when the
United States was at its most economically and politically ascendant and also its most
seemingly vulgar to Brazilian eyes, particularly in its focus on capital gain and its rapidly
changing social and sexual mores. It was a fertile environment for these two Brazilian
intellectuals to find inspiration and to better ponder themselves as Brazilians from afar.
Fortunately for today’s scholars, both of these writers documented the panorama of the
United States in the 1920s and their reactions to this immense country so similar and yet
so alien to their own homeland. These impressions of the United States not only convey a
perspective of that country from the Global South, but also better illuminate the writers’
projects for Brazil.
Freyre published a series of crônicas as a column in the Diário de Pernambuco
entitled “Da outra América” (From the Other America). They are short texts which
document his reactions to the United States while he was studying at Baylor and
Columbia. These crônicas, which were anthologized twice by Freyre himself and have
been studied at length by Maria Lúcia Garcia Pallares-Burke, present one of the richest
sources of published material by the young Freyre. In addition to these crônicas, there is
37
Freyre’s autobiographical work 26 published in 1975, Tempo morto e outros tempos,
which includes many diary entries in which Freyre discusses his impressions of the
United States. There are also references to the United States that appear throughout
Freyre’s most important texts such as Casa-grande e senzala. This array of articles,
books and letters that originate both before and after Freyre’s 1923 return to Brazil
portray a young man’s processing of his own existence as a foreigner and observation of
another society as well as the later intellectual synthesis of this international experience,
which informed his own discussions of Brazilian identity.
Monteiro Lobato did not publish a regular column during his stay in New York
City in the final years of 1920s, but this does not imply he did not leave an intellectual
trace of this era. His 1931 book, América, blends the genres of travelogue, memoir and
developmentalist manifesto. Published just after his return from the United States, it is
among the classic Brazilian discussions of that country, and one that also foreshadows his
future dedication to the question of development (specifically the exploitation of
petroleum) in Brazil. It is not, however, the only work that bears the imprint of the
writer’s interest in the United States. As mentioned above, his notorious 1926 novel, O
presidente negro ou: o choque das raças is a perplexing artifact that cannot be avoided in
an examination of Lobato’s thinking about the United States. The novel was first
published before the author had ever visited the United States and discusses race and
eugenics in the context of the year 2228. An examination of what the author has to say
about the United States before and after his stay will facilitate an understanding about the
ways that nation influenced his Brazilian projects.
26
Tempo morto e outros tempos was published as the Young Freyre’s diary. Scholars like Pallares-Burke
have called the book’s status as a published diary into question, even referring to it as an autobiography
written in the style of a diary. See Pallares-Burke 23-24 for a broader discussion of this topic.
38
This chapter’s examination of these “North American” works of the two writers
will enable better comprehension of the differences between their plans and conceptions
of Brazil. Monteiro Lobato, while he contributed to a Brazilianization of children’s
literature and stood among the most vocal proponents of a national oil industry, was also
strongly critical of Brazil’s racial makeup and traditional culture. His admiration for the
United States and its segregated system influenced these ideas. Freyre, on the other hand,
saw a great deal to value in Brazil’s traditions and in the African and indigenous
contributions to the country’s civilization. Freyre felt contempt for U.S. racism, although
his own work is now criticized by some Brazilian anti-racism activists as having enabled
the on-going marginalization of Afro-descendants in Brazil. While Freyre and Monteiro
Lobato may seem to articulate a different racial vision of Brazil, both are today criticized
for their racism, and, as my analysis Freyre’s writings from the United States as well as
recent scholarship by Maria Lúcia Garcia Pallares-Burke will illustrate, in fact manifested
similar enthusiasm for North American approaches to race relations at certain points in
their careers. These similarities between the two intellectuals are among the most salient
elements of this study. There are various points of agreement in the two writers’
evaluations of the United States, not only on the topic of race, but also in their
confrontations with of U.S. social values and urbanism. There is both fear and admiration
in these portrayals, and this combination fuels particularly engaging discussions of a
formative era of U.S. social and cultural history, discussions that in turn watered Brazil’s
own intellectually fecund 1930s. This chapter will briefly outline the two writers’
experiences of the United States before comparing and contrasting their views of varied
aspects of the country, concluding with a more in-depth discussion of their encounters
39
with race relations in the United States and a discussion of the importance of the United
States in their work on Brazil.
A Portrait of the Young Scholar in the “Other America”
Gilberto Freyre's pink colonial home in Apipucos is an illustration in stone and
plaster of the scholar's interests and contributions to thought on Brazilian and Lusophone
society. For the visitor acquainted with his writings, it can at times appear to be the
quintessential Casa Grande. Though it lacks the surrounding cane fields (not to mention
a senzala), there is a palpable connection with the wistful adulation of a colonial
Pernambuco that permeates his work. A tropical exuberance fills the small patch of forest
that surrounds the walkway leading toward the vast terrace reminiscent of those
belonging to the engenhos and churches he describes in Casa-grande e senzala. Interns
who give tours of the home describe the varied trees and plants on the grounds and
explain their cultural uses. They also regale visitors with ghost stories and tales of trees
on the grounds possessed by orixás. The visitor receives an immersion into Pernambucan
folklore and folkways at the opulent home of one the most illustrious figures in the state's
history. Even a brief touristic visit to the home comes across as a synthesis of Freyrean
ideals rooted in a colonial past, ideals that celebrated cultural practices developed within
a slave-owning society and in Freyre’s view, ideally suited to the construction of a
tropical civilization.
Within the home, this synthesis becomes even more apparent. The dining room
walls are decorated by azulejo tiles taken from a church in Lisbon that was about to be
demolished. They were a gift from Salazar's Portuguese government to Freyre, a tacit
gesture of appreciation for scholarly work which flattered the Portuguese, theory used by
40
Salazar's ideologues to justify Portugal's late colonialism. In a small room there is a
display case with honors that Freyre received over the course of his prodigious and
controversial career, among which is a gilt edition of Camões' Lusíadas also gifted by
Salazar. In the midst of this Lusotropical splendor, however, there are artifacts that show
a very different side of Freyre. Diplomas, pins and decorations from U.S. institutions that
remind the visitor that Freyre's career, with its Janus face that simultaneous launched a
valorization of Brazilian society and offered an anachronistic justification of power
structures rooted in exploitation and colonialism, was one that had its beginnings in an
Anglo-American cultural nexus. This phenomenon was articulated clearly by Thomas
Skidmore in his 1986 article about Brazilian intellectual discourse around the United
States:
Freyre's genius was to take his prototypical reaction to the U.S. and
develop it into a celebration of Brazil's uniqueness. He became Brazil's
best read nonfiction author because he was able to take one of the
questions preoccupying the elite ---was U.S. white supremacy the only
path to national development?---and turn it on its head” (77).
Gilberto Freyre would be a unique figure in any country’s intellectual history. He
was a character known for his erudition and vanity. He espoused a conservative
nationalism that made him the bane of the Brazilian left during the years of the military
dictatorship, but he is also considered the driving force behind the transformation of
Brazil from a society that actively tried to repudiate its African-descended population and
cultural elements to one which, at least intellectually, embraced these as part of national
identity. There was nothing particularly auspicious in Freyre’s childhood and upbringing.
He was born into an old and traditional family of the Recife elite that had roots in the city
and the Pernambucan sugar plantation economy since colonial times. His education was
41
delayed because his family believed him to possess severe learning disabilities. When he
did begin his education it was with an English teacher named Mr. Williams who had
moved to Brazil as a missionary. In an interview with Antônio Callado published in 1962
he describes this period of his life, “At that time, in my family, I was considered mentally
retarded. But Mr. Williams, after a brief time, reacted, ‘The boy is not at all retarded.
Someone who draws like him cannot be slow” 27 (109). In the preface to an anthology of
newspaper articles, Retalhos de jornais velhos, Freyre himself claims that this early
education in English triggered a deep Anglophilia in the scholar, who affirms of his tutor,
“He led me to an interest in all that was English as if the English were the great allies of
my intelligence and my sensibilities against those like Teles Júnior and the masters of this
land…” (xxiv).“ 28 As an adolescent he was dedicated to scholarship and continued this
strong affinity with all things English. He speaks of his adolescent enthusiasm for
England---“more for England than for the United States---that led me to my enthusiasm,
albeit ephemeral, first for Anglicanism and then for Protestantism in its more Tolstoyan
and evangelical forms” (xxiii). 29 As a youth Freyre became a Baptist, the faith he would
belong to until his opinions changed after contact with the church’s North American
variant on its home soil. The young student’s Baptist faith combined with the
27
Naquela época eu tinha, na família, reputação de retardado mental. Mas Mr. Williams, ao cabo de pouco
tempo, reagiu “O menino não tem nada de retardado mental. Quem desenha como ele não é atrasado”
(109).
28
Levou-me a interessar-me por tudo que fosse ingles como se fossem os ingleses os grandes aliados da
minha inteligencia e da minha sensibilidade contra os Teles Junior e outros mestres da terra...(xxiv)
29
Creio que decorreu do meu entusiasmo de adolescente pela Inglaterra---mais pela Inglaterra que pelos
Estados Unidos---e que me levou ao entusiasmo, alias, efêmero, primeiro pelo Anglicanismo, depois pelo
Protestantismo em suas formas mais tolstoianas e mais evangélicas. (xxiii)
42
inaccessibility of Europe during the First World War led the young man to Baylor
University in Waco, Texas to begin his college education.
Freyre arrived at Baylor in 1918 and remained in the United States until 1922.
During this period of time he had a thorough immersion in the intellectual life of the
northern power that further whet his appetite to get to know Europe and the varied seats
of knowledge to which many Brazilians had aspired over the centuries. His relationship
with the United States was a fraught one, in that it gave him a sense of belonging to a
more cosmopolitan intellectual environment than Recife’s, while at the same time left
him feeling he was living a poor substitute for the European destinations the war had
denied him. He himself writes of this in the above quoted preface to Retalhos…in
addition to his published diary Tempo morto and the preface to the later anthology of his
newspaper articles, Tempo de aprendiz. Pallares-Burke has recently published a
painstakingly researched and argued intellectual biography entitled Um vitoriano dos
trópicos in which she analyzes in great depth his Anglophilia and the influence of English
thought on his own writing and theory, not to mention various and sundry influences that
came to him in the United States. Her work is crucial to the more modest analysis of his
journalistic writing undertaken in this chapter and will be addressed more directly,
particularly in the discussion of the influence of the United States on his thinking about
the topic of race.
After an accelerated course of study at Baylor, Freyre moved to New York to
engage in graduate studies at Columbia University. With this move, Freyre became even
more enthusiastic about the intellectual opportunities that the United States presented
him. In the first of his articles specifically discussing New York he comments, “I’ve been
43
learning and enjoying a great deal. New York is filled with learning opportunities and
intellectual pleasures” (90). While he was charmed and delighted by his earlier
encounters with Texas, Kentucky and Missouri, he is truly overwhelmed by New York
and its modernity. In the articles from his time spent in New York in 1921 and 1922
Freyre most openly criticizes the United States. As postulated earlier, this is a change that
is understandable given his own maturation and education, and his growing intimacy with
the country and its people. These criticisms are often couched in terms of cultural and
political elitism that seem to be connected to a general distaste for the type of economic,
social and technological development he observes in New York.
It was at Columbia where the most famous parts of Freyre’s intellectual historical
narrative supposedly occurred. He attended the seminars of Franz Boas, a highly
influential anthropologist who disputed the current racially determinist thought in his
field. Freyre, in a number of texts, including the preface to Casa-grande e senzala itself,
comments on the importance of Boas in changing his own evaluation of the racial profile
of Brazil and acceptance of the African contribution to Brazilian national identity.
Pallares-Burke casts some doubt on the immediate repercussion of Boas’s seminars on
Freyre, “[an analysis of earlier versions of Casa-grande e senzala]… is sufficient to
verify that the student of Franz Boas only become a disciple after a period of study,
observation, maturation and reflection longer than has been imagined” 30 (263). While
Boas’s ideas and a sense of horror at racism in the United States would become crucial to
Freyre’s laudatory elevation of Brazilian society as an exemplary tropical civilization,
these ideas took many years to truly develop.
30
…é suficiente para verificar que o aluno de Franz Boas não se tornou seu discípulo senão após um
período de estudo, observação, amadurecimento e reflexão mais longo do que se imagina (263).
44
Freyrean scholars have discussed the significance of the author's stay in the
United States in their studies of his work. Much of this valuable work is based on
discussion of his purported published diary, Tempo morto e outros tempos. What
distinguishes Pallares-Burke’s work, as well as this chapter, is a focus on published
journalistic articles about the United States. These articles that a young Freyre sent on an
almost weekly basis to the Diário de Pernambuco during his studies at Baylor and at
Columbia, and published under the name “Da Outra América” will be the focus of my
own discussion of Freyre’s U.S. experience. They are the most significant work that
Freyre ever published specifically dealing with the United States. While they do not
manifest the more fully formed theoretical approach that is encountered in later works,
they are significant in that they provided the Pernambucan reading public of the time with
a window onto the United States. Much like Erico Verissimo’s Gato preto books, which
will be analyzed in the following chapter, Freyre’s “Outra América” articles capture the
United States at a critical time in its history, as it was adjusting to a world in which
Europe’s superiority had fallen into question after the First World War. Readers learn
about topics ranging from climate to immigration to politics and gain a close
understanding of the U.S. university system, and the life of college students. They also
learn of North American and international cultural figures like Vachel Lindsay, Amy
Lowell, H.L. Mencken and Rabindranath Tagore. Pernambucan readers of “Da outra
América” could gain insight into both Freyre's intellectual development in the United
States and a first row seat on what must have seemed to be a thrilling cultural and
academic show compared with what provincial Recife had to offer. For today’s readers
these articles present the added value of contact with a rawer Freyre still in the process of
45
forming his comparative discourse between the United States and Brazil. While they may
be marginalia to the most significant Freyrean oeuvre, they are central to a discussion of
Brazilian intellectual writing about the United States. It is important to contrast these
journalistic articles published during Freyre’s youth with the compelling and noteworthy
but fundamentally problematic Tempo morto e outros tempos.
Tempo morto was published in 1975 and in spite of its engaging discussions of
topics ranging from Pernambucan history to religion to sexuality to, of course, the United
States, it is a problematic work when taken at face value. Pallares-Burke writes:
As for Tempo morto, it is impossible to negate that it is an extremely
attractive and dangerously seductive work. It has seduced me and many
other scholars of Freyre, leading us to believe that it was a faithful report
with no further varnish of development from the author. 31(24)
She considers the book to be more of an example of autobiography written in the format
of a diary. That Tempo morto e outros tempos cannot be considered an objective account
of the events in Freyre's life should come as no surprise, nor does it take away its utility
as an object of study. It is important, however, to take into account its publication late in
the writer's life, and the implicit benefits and vulnerabilities of memory and reevaluation.
In his own preface to Tempo de aprendiz, Freyre illustrates how he constructed a master
narrative of his intellectual life. In this comical attempt by Freyre to describe his younger
self in the third person, through the benefit of hindsight he comments on his return to the
Brazilian intellectual milieu, rather than having become an international man of letters as
were the wishes of A.J. Armstrong, according to Pallares Burke his closest professor and
friend at Baylor. In this preface he describes Armstrong.
31
Quanto ao Tempo morto não há como negar que é um trabalho extremamente atraente e perigosamente
sedutor. Seduziu a mim e a muitos outros estudiosos de Freyre, fazendo-nos acreditar que era um relato fiel
e sem nenhum verniz do desenvolvimento do autor (24).
46
The one who, as has already been recorded at another opportunity, would
insist that the awkward bilingual concentrate in the literary language par
excellence ---the English language---and abandon the Portuguese.
Abandon Brazil itself, to become---in the words of the imaginative
Armstrong--- a “new Conrad” or a “new Santayana.” Therefore to write in
Portuguese was to write---claims the Anglophile—in an unknown
language. 32(27)
Freyre comments repeatedly in Tempo morto… of this internal struggle between
becoming an international man of letters like Joseph Conrad or remaining focused on his
homeland. The fact that he chose the definition and its defense of Brazil, as his life's great
intellectual project, and that he does not hesitate to remind his readers of this in his selfevaluative texts of the 1970s, can be interpreted as a narrative of intellectual sacrifice. He
could have had it all in the United States or the United Kingdom, but he instead chose
Brazil, where he would be accompanied by other great thinkers like Buarque de Holanda
and Monteiro Lobato.
The “Lobato Fish” Finds His Sea
Unlike Freyre’s archives, Monteiro Lobato’s are not located in an atmospheric
colonial style home, but rather in a nondescript mid-century modern building on the
campus of The State University of Campinas (Unicamp). Unicamp is one of Brazil’s
most prestigious universities, established in the 1960s as a center for scientific research in
Brazil’s industrial heartland. This is a fitting location for the archives of a man who saw
science, technology and organization as the best path for Brazilian progress. Where
Freyre saw the beauty in a tropical civilization rooted in an understanding and
appreciation of the past, Lobato saw a bright future rooted in efficient, scientific
32
aquele que, como já foi recordado, noutra oportunidade, insistiria para que o desajeitado bilingue se
concentrasse na língua literária por excelência – a inglesa – abandonando a portuguesa. Abandonando o
próprio Brasil, para tornar-se – segundo o imaginativo Armstrong – um “novo Conrad” ou um “novo
Santayanna.” Pois escrever em português era escrever – acrescentava o anglófilo – em língua
desconhecida” (27).
47
exploitation of natural resources and economic development. Like Freyre’s rambling
home in Apipucos, the Monteiro Lobato Archives at Unicamp contain many traces of the
writer’s stay in the United States. There are drawings and paintings of New York City, a
handbook for new residents of the Jackson Heights apartment development, letters to and
from different North Americans and documents pertaining to his children’s enrollment in
schools in the United States. In short, despite the fact that he first visited the United
States in his late 40s, Lobato bears as much an imprint of his encounters, both real and
imagined, with the United States as Freyre.
For Lobato, the United States was not a substitute for a Europe made unobtainable
by the winds of war like it was for Freyre. The writer was in the thrall of U.S. success and
efficiency. He had spent decades criticizing Brazilian backwardness and proposing
changes to agriculture and public health. Where Freyre reconstructed a Brazilian past in
which he found much to celebrate, Lobato displayed contempt for the Brazilian present
because of its links to this past. His famous essay, “Uma velha praga,” published in 1914
in the Estado de São Paulo, is a vitriolic tirade against slash-and-burn agriculture and the
perceived indolence of the caboclo peasantry of the interior of São Paulo state. He
continued to write articles complaining about the backwardness of Brazilian agriculture
and even created the figure of Jeca Tatu, an archetypical caboclo farmer who embodied
what he considered the worst traits of this population. These essays, which seem to spout
vitriol against the Brazilian peasantry and their folk technology, contrast with Freyre’s
1930s project of valuing Brazil for its unique cultural practices. Lobato’s impassioned
rhetoric in fact reflects the urgency that he saw in adopting a positivist approach to
48
progress in Brazil. He had a vision of a Brazil that valued itself because of the progress it
made, rather than remaining locked into a sense of inferiority with Europe.
At the same time he was criticizing the Brazilian caboclo in articles that would be
anthologized as Urupês, Monteiro Lobato was compiling research into Brazilian folklore,
looking for a way to combat a perceived lack of rootedness in the Brazilian arts. In the
1997 biography of the writer, Furacão na Botocúndia, the authors cite a 1917 article.
In “The Creation of Style,” published on January 6, 1917, he suggests that
elements of folklore be incorporated into art courses, especially at the
Liceu de Artes e Oficios, the institution that set aesthetic tastes. For
[Lobato], fauns, satyrs and bacchantes---representatives of the European
imaginary among Brazilians ---could easily be substituted by our
corresponding nymphs, like Iara. (64). 33
Monteiro Lobato took this search for an autochthonous inspiration to another level when
he embarked on a fairly exhaustive research project on the Saci Pererê, a trickster figure
that he documented throughout São Paulo, Minas Gerais and other parts of Brazil. The
results of this research was the 1918 book, O Saci-pererê: Resultado de um inquérito.
This research into the folkloric creatures of Brazil and project of creating a more
Brazilian fantastical imaginary led to Lobato’s best-known work today. In Brazil, he is
mostly regarded as a prolific children’s author. His Sítio do pica-pau amarelo books
published between 1921 and 1947 are considered classics of Brazilian children’s
literature and they depend very much upon this harvesting of Brazilian folkloric
characters like the Saci, Curupira and Lobisomem. An intellectual who criticized
Brazil’s the outdated practices and traditional modes of the peasantry also presented
33
Em “A criação de estilo, “ publicado em em 6 de janeiro de 1917, sugere que se incorporarem elementos
do folclore nos cursos de arte, especialmente no Liceu de Artes e Ofícios, instituição modeladora do gosto
estético. Para ele, faunos, sátiros e bacantes --- representantes do imaginário europeu entre os brasileiros--podem ser facilmente substituídos pelas nossas ninfas correspondentes, como a Iara. (64).
49
generations of Brazilian children with their own folklore and a coterie of fantastic and
nationally-derived characters.
It was not only in children’s literature where Monteiro Lobato showed his
nationalist colors. The writer was also instrumental in creating a drive for an oil industry
in Brazil. Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, Lobato’s personal and professional life
revolved around the question of oil in Brazil, to the point of imprisonment for criticizing
President Vargas. This dedication was rooted in a commitment to bringing Brazil a level
of industrial and technological development like that he encountered in the United States.
Monteiro Lobato first travelled to the United States in the summer of 1927, and lived
there until March of 1931. His stay in the United States almost paralleled Freyre’s by one
decade. Lobato served as a commercial attaché with the Brazilian Consulate in New
York, and resided in the chic new garden suburb of Jackson Heights, Queens, during this
time there. Lobato was very enthusiastic about his new home. He comments in a letter to
his friend Godofredo Rangel that is also quoted by Skidmore, “Rangel: I am fish that was
out of the water since I was born in 1882, and just now have I fallen back into it. This
here is the sea of the Lobato fish. Everything like I want it to be, like I always dreamed it
would be” 34(302). Like Freyre, Lobato did have some critiques of the modernization he
encountered in the United States. In a letter from 1930, he finds the city overwhelming,
“There isn’t any time. There isn’t any peace and quiet. This New York is a nervedevouring Maelstrom” 35 (320). In the same letter he writes about his new interest in jazz
and Broadway music, but also mocks the degradation of the English language and even
34
Rangel: eu sou um peixe que esteve fora d’agua desde 1882, quando nasci, e só agora caiu nela. Isto é
aqui é o mar do peixe Lobato. Tudo como quero, como sempre sonhei” (302).
35
Não há tempo. Não há sossego de espirito. Esta New York é um Maelstrom devorador de nervos (320).
50
provides the lyrics to a song called “Ain’tcha.” He comments, “To say that the language
of these minstrels is English would be to rip Dickens out from his grave” 36 (321). As
much as the industrial efficiency and overall technological development of the United
States impressed the writer, there was a certain brashness and vulgarity that he found
tiresome. América is Lobato’s work where this juxtaposition is most deeply explored, but
it is in fact present in works that predate his U.S. experience. His biographers Carmen
Lúcia de Azevedo, Márcia Camargo and Vladimir Sacchettta comment in Furacão na
Botocúndia:
With the same eyes of a country boy looking beyond the limits of the
immediate horizon, during his stay in Rio de Janeiro he had praised the
initiatives of Henry Ford in a series of articles and translated some of his
work. He had also written O choque, his American novel, and had
composed a panorama of Brazil as seen by Mr. Slang. His life in the
United States would only confirm that all of those ideas were more than
just dreams. 37(237)
These varied works that he had created before his journey to the United States indeed
highlight his early fascination with the country and particularly with Henry Ford. Lobato
had a mission of conveying a message of United States-inspired prosperity and a Fordist
dedication to efficiency and development to his Brazilian readers.
He wrote a series of essays commenting on the relevance of Henry Ford to Brazil,
as well as a strange science-fiction novel portraying the future United States as a strange
technological wonderland with a brutally effective solution to racial turmoil, the
controversial O presidente negro. Both of these texts were published in 1926, just before
36
Dizer que a língua destes menestréis é a inglesa, seria arrancar Dickens da cova (321).
37
Com os mesmos olhos de menino do interior espiando para além dos limites de um horizonte imediato,
durante sua temporada no Rio de Janeiro elogiara as iniciativas de Henry Ford numa série de artigos e lhe
traduzir algumas obras. Também escrevera O choque, seu romance Americano, e compusera um panorama
do Brasil visto por Mr. Slang. A vivência nos Estados Unidos só viria confirmar que todas aquelas idéias
não eram apenas sonhos (237).
51
he travelled to the United States. Through these books, as well as the overall work of his
publishing house, Lobato was known in the United States to scholars like Isaac Goldberg,
who briefly profiled the writer and publisher in a 1924 American Mercury article entitled
“What Latin America Thinks of Us.” In this article, Goldberg complains about a lack of
mutual understanding between the United States and Latin America. He describes Lobato
as, “[one] of the few realistic editors on the southern continent; he began his career with a
scientific pamphlet calling for more hygiene and less rhetoric and has continued as a
straightforward, hard-hitting, soundly destructive critic of his nation” (466). Goldberg
actually goes on to critique an article that appeared in Lobato’s Revista do Brasil that
duplicates traditional discourses around the United States, but nevertheless, Lobato’s
mere presence in this article speaks to his notoriety and commitment to change, not to
mention his U.S. inclinations. Another interesting element of this article is the fact that
Goldberg uses the young Gilberto Freyre as a source. Freyre’s commentary in the article
in which he laments the ignorance of U.S. culture in Brazil will be examined in the next
section of this chapter. Among Lobato’s noteworthy projects was an attempt at
remedying this ignorance through translation from English.
Lobato’s original essayistic and fictional works that manifest an enthusiasm for
the United States were accompanied by the dedicated project of producing translations
into Portuguese of various English-language texts, thus bringing what Lobato considered
the right-thinking of the Anglosphere to a Brazilian audience. Before his journey to the
United States he had already published a significant number of translations of Englishlanguage children’s literature. John Milton has written on this translation project, one
which he considers a radical aspect of Lobato’s intellectual work. He describes Lobato’s
52
overall project as, “a movement toward the importation of works written originally in
English, that continued right up to World War II, when English finally ousted French as
the primary foreign language studied and spoken in Brazil” (488). He goes into particular
detail about his project of translating Ford:
Fordism and US efficiency were venerated by Monteiro Lobato. He saw
them as providing a stark contrast to the lack of efficiency in Brazil.
Interestingly, perhaps because of the fact that he came from a country that
had as yet virtually no urban proletariat, Monteiro Lobato could see few of
the evils that might accompany Fordism. (489)
Milton views Lobato as a radical, with aims of upsetting Brazil authoritarian system. He
claims, “The enormous popularity of Lobato's children's works helped disseminate
liberal, secular, and internationalist ideas to adults and children alike in a state that was
authoritarian, Catholic, and nationalist” (500). That the author was liberal, secular and
internationalist is unquestionable. That said, his praise of the United States, particularly
in its approach to race relations, would not be considered progressive by today’s
standards.
An analysis of O presidente negro illustrates the influence of racialist eugenic
thought on Lobato. This novel’s genesis in and of itself is an intriguing example of
Lobato’s at times over-enthusiastic relationship with the United States. He wrote and
published this novel in installments before he left Brazil. Lobato’s sole fiction novel
aimed at adults (also one of the first Brazilian works of science fiction) is a work that is
both deficient and thought provoking. Timothy Brown Jr. diplomatically comments on
the novel’s literary merits, “Let it be said first of all the Lobato does not owe his literary
reputation to this book, but rather to an admirable series of short stories published in his
books…” (99). Lobato wrote the novel hastily (Brown claims in 20 days (100)), but he
53
also had serious intentions for the novel. He saw it as his opportunity to become a wellknown literary figure in the United States and even to establish a U.S. publishing
company that he would name the Tupy Publishing Company. An oft-quoted passage of a
letter to Rangel published in, A barca de Gleyre, details his plans to eventually translate
the novel and maybe even sell a million copies. While he may have admired the United
States, he was dubious of the maturity of the American reading public. He concludes this
famous letter, “Are you familiar with the Tarzan series? Curious and quite infantile. And
it sells millions. I think that I am capable of writing for the United States because of my
inclination to write for children. I think that Americans are wholesomely
childlike” 38(294). O presidente negro does indeed read like a science-fiction adventure
story aimed at white adolescent boys, complete with state of the art technology, a brainy
and beautiful heroine, and of course the perhaps satirical reassurance that they are
destined to dominate Earth, or at least the Americas.
O presidente negro is narrated as a story within a story. The narrator, Ayrton,
acquires an automobile in order to feel more socially accepted. Within his first weeks of
having the car he is involved in a terrible accident in the mountains of interior Rio de
Janeiro state and finds himself in a mysterious castle that is the home to Dr. Benson and
his daughter Miss Jane. Benson, of solid Anglo-Saxon stock, has invented the
porviroscópio, a machine that allows him and his daughter to see snippets of the future.
Tragedy strikes when Dr. Benson dies, and Ayrton takes it upon himself to console Miss
Jane and in the process learn of a particular future event…the clash of the races in the
United States in the year 2228.
38
Conheces a série Tarzan? Curiosa e bem infantil. Anda em milhões, Eu me acho capaz de escrever para
os Estados Unidos por causa do meu pendor para escrever para as crianças. Acho o americano sadiamente
infantil. (294)
54
The remainder of the novel’s plot consists of Miss Jane’s narration of this
turbulent time to come for North America, along with an over-the-top dose of eugenic
theory and fawning praise for the United States. By 2228 the United States has changed
into a utopian paradise without class conflict and pollution. (Brazil on the other hand has
been divided into a backward, blacker north dominated by pedantic debates over
Portuguese grammar and a whiter south united with Argentina and Uruguay.) The black
population in the United States has increased through advances in hygiene, but it has also
become “whitened” through a series of genetic and cosmetic procedures. This future
United States is still riven by racial and gender conflict. The feminism of Lobato’s era
has transformed into an ideology called Elvinism that proposes that women are not even
from the same species as men, but rather are the vestiges of an amphibious species called
sabines. The division between men and women has led to a schism in the white race that
manifests itself in the 2228 election. In this election Kerlog, the white male candidate
loses to a black candidate, Jim Roy, because of a coalition between women and blacks.
This leads to the fear of racial violence. Women abandon Elvinism and Evelyn Astor, the
leader of the Feminine party, goes so far as to marry Kerlog. White male scientists then
develop a hair straightening procedure that leads to the eventual sterilization of the black
race. After this digressive revelation of the future, Ayrton and Miss Jane decide that like
Kerlog and Astor, they were meant to be together, for the good of the species.
The novel is filled with monologues from Miss Jane that celebrate the United
States as a model for scientific development and forward thinking such as the following
example:
If you observe the American psyche a little you will see, on the contrary,
that it is the only idealistic people that thrives in today’s world. The only
55
one, you hear? There’s just one thing to keep in mind: the idealism of
Americans is not the same Latin idealism that we receive in our blood.
They possess it in a specific and unique form that is impossible to implant
into peoples who are not endowed with the same racial character. They
possess organic idealism. We possess the utopian variety…Now look at
America. In all of the great moments of its history the winner is always
organic idealism, pragmatic idealism, the programming of possibilities
that are feasible within human nature. Read Emerson and read Rousseau.
There you will find the exponents of these opposing mentalities. 39 (88-89)
The novel is a strange amalgamation of science-fiction, scientific racism, reactionary
commentary on feminism and satire apparently formulated for a U.S. reading public that
never read the text as it was never published in the United States, a failure Lobato,
perhaps in jest, attributed to U.S. national pride. In a letter to Rangel cited by several
analysts of the novel, he bemoans the book’s lack of success:
My novel still lacks an editor. The Tupy Company has failed. They think
its offensive to American dignity to admit that after so many centuries of
moral progress this people could commit in cold blood the beautiful crime
I suggested. I made a mistake coming here so green. I should have come
back when they still where lynching blacks. 40(304)
A more detailed analysis of racialist discourses in O presidente negro will come later in
this chapter.
As Azevedo, Camargo and Sacchetta commented, Lobato’s stint in the United
States generally vindicated his pro-American feelings. Despite this, he did experience
39
Se o senhor Ayrton observar um pouco a psique americana verá, ao contrário, que é o único povo
idealista que floresce hoje no mundo. Único, vê? Apenas se dá o seguinte: o idealismo dos americanos não
é o idealismo latino que recebemos com o sangue. Possuem-no de forma específica, próprio, e de
implantação impossível em povos não dotados do mesmo caráter racial. Possuem o idealismo orgânico.
Nós temos o utópico. Veja a França. Estude a Convenção Francesa. Sessão permanente de utopismo
furioso--- e a resultar em que calamidades! Por quê? Porque irrealizável, contrário à natureza humana. Veja
agora a América. Em todos os grandes momentos da sua história, sempre vencedor o idealismo orgânico, o
idealismo pragmático, a programação das possibilidades que se ajeitam dentro da natureza humana. Leia
Emerson e leia Rousseau. Terá os expoentes de duas mentalidades polares. (88)
40
Meu romance não encontra editor. Falhou a Tupy Company. Acham-no ofensivo á dignidade
Americana, visto admitir que depois de tantos seculos de progresso moral possa este povo, coletivamente,
combater a sangue frio o belo crime que sugeri. Errei vindo cá tão verde. Devia ter vindo no tempo que eles
ainda linchavam os negros” (304).
56
disappointments. In addition to the commercial failure of O presidente negro, Lobato
suffered severe financial losses in the Crash of 1929. In a letter to a Mr. MacDonald in
the United States, Lobato appears traumatized by his experience in the United States:
…Sleepless nights, inhability for any kind of work, impossibility
of keeping mind away from quotations, points, rallies, bear raids, bullish
tips --- all this crazy stuff woven and uncover by the people who parasitate
human work.
True nightmare from which just now I am recovering. Money was
evaporated like snow under the sun, but what a relief! Can think again, can
read, can work --- can live. And can, too, realize that my failure came just
because, lured by the "new economical era’s” sirens I had put aside my
old bible, and passed all these months without remembering that sacred
horror Mr. Ford always showed for all kind of speculating activity
Now I must start again. Had to return to my country to start again.
My mission in the United States did fail lamentably. I will come back
without accomplishing my designs --- without seeing and talking with Mr.
Ford. I gave up that old idea because I have no more right to put it forth. I
don't have merit to have dreamed of meeting. I should lie as an
ambassador if I met him now and went away saying : "you have changed
my life and taught me what business means." I have nothing to tell him
now… 41(Lobato to McDonald)
Lobato was indeed ruined financially by the Crash of 1929 and had to sell his shares of
his precious Companhia Editora Nacional. An ally of deposed president-elect Júlio
Prestes, he was recalled to Brazil after Getúlio Vargas’s Revolution of 1930, and would
remain Vargas’s adversary for years. Despite the ignominious end to his time in the
United States, Lobato never seemed to publicly acknowledge disillusionment with the
U.S. system.
América is Lobato’s rehashing of his time in the United States, written in the
format of a dialogue with Mr. Slang, a fictional Englishman who had appeared in the
1927 book Mr. Slang e o Brasil as a devil’s advocate who could point out Brazil’s flaws.
In América, the narrator meets Mr. Slang in Washington D.C. and the two discuss various
41
A fragment of this letter exists in the Monteiro Lobato archive at Unicamp. Unfortunately, this
documents lacks a date and the name of a formal addressee.
57
aspects of the United States as they travel around the nation’s capital, in New York City
and to Walden Pond. Mr Slang appears as a booster for the United States, and while he
may cast a superficial sense of Old World skepticism on the brash new country, the
overall impression gleaned from his observations is the same that the narrator gleans
from one of his sighs, “The Old World had to pass by---was passing by. Tomorrow
would be American” 42 (256) The book contains lengthy discussions of technological and
material progress, with withering lists of statistics on gross income, urban budgets,
university enrollments, mileage of highways and railroads, not to mention exhausting
descriptions of architectural feats like the Lincoln Memorial, The Washington
Monument, and various New York City skyscrapers. Furthermore, there are discussions
of Henry Ford’s innovations in production, the importance of geographic factors in U.S
prosperity and many comments on the overall health and hygiene of the population.
Lobato does not exclusively praise the United States and he makes strong critiques of
criminality, consumerism, and above all feminism. América is a mixture of a travelogue
and a prescription for a better Brazil that uses the United States as a positive role model.
While the United States may have rejected his literary contribution and broken him
financially, he never abandons his dedication to an Anglo-American approach to
modernity. He concludes his book with his discovery of the news that Vargas’s
revolution had prevailed. He mourns the Latin American tendency to violently overthrow
governments and ends the book comparing this state of affairs with the United States.
Instead of using violence to effect change, “The peoples of English origin use a much
more decent instrument. They use their brain” 43 (292). A comparison of Lobato’s
42
O velho mundo tinha de passar---estava passando. O dia de amanhã ia ser americano” (256)
58
América and the young Freyre’s observations of the United States published in Diário de
Pernambuco will illustrate certain common threads to the intellectual Brazilian portrayal
of the 1920s United States, but will also point at the divergent views of these two
intellectuals in their quest for a better Brazil.
First Encounters and Glowing Reports
Gilberto Freyre and Monteiro Lobato felt that they were pioneers in their attempts
at conveying the reality of the United States to a Brazilian audience. While their end
projects may have differed, both writers valued the importance of a deeper understanding
of the United States, an understanding that was distinctly lacking in Brazil at that time. In
Isaac Goldberg’s article on Latin American views of the United States he quotes
Brazilian writer Hilário Tácito: “He said that Singer sewing-machine catalogues and
countless fox-trots constitute the major articles of cultural importation into Brazil from
the United States, seconded by almanacs and movie films” (468). Freyre himself
comments in the article, “Relatively, French and American literature, and even English,
are little-known in Brazil…Imagine the almost ignorance of the English poets, essayists
and novelists! This is the situation of nine-tenths of our elite” (468). He humorously
comments on the affection for Emerson in Brazil, “an Emerson in French or Spanish. I
don’t know whether you’ve noticed that Emerson, in French or Spanish, seems deeper
than in English” (468). Freyre displays a familiarity with U.S. literature and intellectual
culture that allows him to both regret its low-profile in Brazil and mock one of its most
beloved figures. Isaac Goldberg himself comments on Freyre’s fluency in U.S.
intellectual culture, including his admiration for Amy Lowell and Vachel Lindsay, saying
that it, “reveals him as well-informed even for a native United Stateser” (468). Goldberg
43
Os povos de origem inglesa usam instrumento muito mais decente. Usam o cerebro (292).
59
admired Freyre’s articles about the United States published in Brazil, and even exclaims,
“These and the books that grow naturally from them are the seeds of the future literary
entente” (468). This was a heavy prediction and recommendation for the young scholar,
but also one that the young Freyre seemed very much willing to undertake.
Lobato shared similar opinions, as evidenced by his dedication to translating
English-language literature for his Brazilian reading public. In O presidente negro he
voices concern with the circulation of erroneous ideas about the United States when his
narrator, Ayrton, reflects on his own prejudices about that country:
Yes, because I had the naivete to possess certain basic ideas about the
American people, in spite of my ignorance of the psyche behind the course
that people had taken. These were ideas floating in the air at the office, in
conversations at cafes, in the reading of newspapers written by beings as
ignorant as I was; ideas that cling to our brains like dust from the streets
clings to our faces on a hot day. From Senhor Sá [Ayrton’s boss], for
example, I heard of Americans…that they were, “A people without ideas,
the most materialistic on the planet, the people of the biggest” 44 (87-88)
Like Freyre in his discussions of ignorance of the United States in Latin America (and
particularly Brazil), Lobato is decrying a tendency to immediately proclaim that the
United States is somehow lacking an ethos beyond that of material gain. The narrator
cynically claims that these generalizations, “circulate like a coin and eventually enrich
the ideological patrimony of a people” 45 (88).
Freyre also documents the circulation of what he saw as erroneous prejudices
about the United States in his “Da Outra América” columns. In one dated April 4, 1921,
44
Sim, porque eu tinha a ingenuidade de possuir ideias assentes sobre o povo americano, apesar de mais
ignorância da psíquica de rumos que levava esse povo. Ideias pegadas no ar do escritório, nas palestras dos
cafés, na leitura de jornais redigidos por criaturas tão ignaras como eu, ideias que se nos grudam ao cérebro
como o pó do asfalto nos adere ao rosto nos dias de calor. Do senhor Sá, por exemplo, ouvi dizer do
americano (não a mim, está claro, que me não daria essa honra, mas ao senhor Pato): “Povo sem ideias, o
mais materialão da terra. A gente do the biggest” (87-88)
45
circulam à maneira de moeda e vão enriquecer o patrimônio ideológico de um povo... (88)
60
he comments on the importance of accurate travel narratives and criticizes the attitudes of
certain other Latin American intellectuals whom he considered lacking in their efforts at
better understanding the country. He gives humorous examples of the Brazilian
Comendador Medeiros e Albuquerque who made broad generalizations about the United
States without seeing more than a patch of New York City and perhaps Washington D.C.,
as well as a Peruvian friend in Texas who only learned of U.S. news from the Lima
papers that his father shipped to him (Tempo de aprendiz 104). He then adopts a more
serious tone and comments:
The other day a friend, also Spanish American, confessed to me that
before coming to the United States he judged all Americans, whether
senators or street sweepers, to be “unos rufiones.”He had gotten used to
this idea since he was a child. Correct judgment? No, a pointless
generalization, formulated by some “touriste” or journalist of the easy
genre to which our illustrious Comendador Medeiros de Albuquerque
belongs, and repeated unconsciously by others. The terrible habit of
generalization! The terrible habit of giving an entire people a label or a
title. (Tempo de Aprendiz 104) 46
The young Freyre rails against this type of prejudice and generalization in the discussion
of foreign societies. He remarks, “Whether travelling in or studying a foreign land, the
individual needs to guard against lightly formed opinions, choosing instead what the
Americans call “earnestness”, that is the willingness to go to the depths of things”
(105). 47 Freyre’s columns show this interpretation of “earnestness”, at digging into the
46
Confessava-me outro dia um amigo, também hispano-americano, que antes de vir para os EstadosUnidos julgava os americanos todos, dos senadores aos limpadores de rua, "unos rufiones". Acostumara-se
a essa ideia desde crianca. Um juizo correto? Nao, uma generalização à toa, formulada por algum "touriste"
ou journalista do genero fácil a que pertence, no Brasil, o ilustre Comendador Medeiros de Albuquerque, e
repetida por outros inconscientemente. A terrível mania de generalizar! A terrível mania de dar a um povo
um rotulo ou um título. (104)
47
Em viagem ou em estudo em terra estrangeira precisa o indivíduo guardar-se da ligeireza de opinião,
trocando-a pelo que o americano chama "earnestness" e que e a vontade de ir ao fundo das coisas. (105)
61
depths of North American society at the start of 1920s. He examines superficial elements
but tries to explain their deeper roots. He is neither stingy with his praise of elements of
the United States that impress him, nor is he shy to criticize that which distresses him. As
Isaac Goldberg observed, Freyre’s own very intimate connection to the United States at a
particularly formative age in fact gives him an opportunity to make these criticisms from
what he perceives to be an insider perspective. Freyre himself comments in the abovecited crônica, “What has perhaps happened with me is that I feel so comfortable in the
United States that its excellent citizens, instead of being “the others,” seem like people
from home. Therefore I criticize them frankly, though always with affection” (105). 48
When one reads the articles published as “Da Outra América,” it becomes evident just
how self aware the young Freyre was. As he becomes more and more comfortable in the
United States, Freyre becomes more and more critical, both of his new home and of
Brazil.
A reading of two different crônicas dealing with Christmas, one dating from
December 28, 1918 at the start of his United States sojourn and another from January 20,
1922, during his last year there is illustrative of the transformation of the young Freyre’s
feelings. In the first of these he is delighted with North American Christmas traditions.
He comments, “American Christmas is an indoor holiday. It’s always cold, there are
always people lighting the fire…Toys and boxes of candy hang from the branches. My
Lord, blessed was the day that you made the domestic instinct sprout in our species”
48
O que se passa talvez, comigo, e que já me sinto tão à vontade nos Estados Unidos que seus excelentes
cidadãos, em vez de "os outros", me parecem mais gente de casa. Daí criticá-los francamente, porém
sempre com simpatia. (105)
62
(52). 49. In this early article, we encounter an overjoyed, wide-eyed Freyre who is already
making comparisons between the U.S. and his homeland.
It reminded me of our São João --- the most enchanting of your popular
holidays, full of traditions and perfumed with the sweetness of family. If
you got rid of the stupid firecrackers what would remain would be pure
delight --- nights in with the family, games, prizes, canjica, pé de
moleque, corn, even old superstitions with a long tradition. (51) 50
The young Freyre displays here a deep nostalgia and valorization of what he sees to be
strong points of his own culture, a focus on what he perceived as the best of Brazilian
culture that continued throughout his career. This comparative approach would continue
to appear in later articles in a style more critical of both countries. In the later article he
once again comments on the abundance of food and on a certain familial coziness during
the Christmas season; however, after years of intimacy with the North Americans, he also
begins to discuss the ways in which Christmas illustrates paradoxes of the American
character, “There’s a Christian in every American, and in every American there is also a
Dionysus. How they coexist I do not know. Nevertheless, they coexist” (187). 51 In this
same article he mentions the childlike nature of North Americans, a theme he also
mentions in several other crônicas. “I don’t believe there is another country where
grownups look so much like children. Everywhere the men look very much like little
boys --- one could suppose they have more naïveté than a thirteen year old” (187). While
49
Natal americano é uma festa de recinto fechado. Sempre faz frio, sempre tem a gente a acender o
fogão...Os brinquedos, as caixas de bombons pendem dos galhos. Meu Deus, bendito o dia em que fizeste
brotar na espécie o instinto do lar! (52)
50
Deram-me a lembrar o nosso São João – a mais encantadora das nossas festas populares, cheia de
tradição e perfumada de doçura familiar. Tirem dela a estupidez das bombas e o que ficar será um encanto
– os serões em família, os jogos, as sortes, a canjica, o pé-de-moleque, o milho, até as superstições, as
velhas, as que têm tradição (51).
51
Há um cristão em cada americano, e em cada americano há um Dionísio. Como coexistem, não sei.
Porém, coexistem (187).
63
it may seem like mockery he does see a certain beneficial aspect to this childlike
behavior. He criticizes the vast amounts of money that people spend on their families and
questions the motives of charitable donations. In spite of this skepticism, he makes a
snide comment that very wealthy Brazilians also spend a great deal, but only on
themselves, “Nobody in Brazil ---except for some odd eccentric---leaves some contos de
réis to a school, a hospital or a work of art. This is a good trait of very wealthy
Americans” (187-188). 52
Lobato (not to mention other writers to be analyzed later in this dissertation like
Erico Verissimo and Vianna Moog), also emphasizes the philanthropic impulses of the
wealthy in the U.S., though he displays less of Freyre’s skepticism. He views U.S.-style
philanthropy in América as a positive aspect of the society, and even makes the bold
claim of these captains of industry, “They transform themselves into capturers and
redistributors of money. They accomplish a labor of socialization that is the dream of the
Russian radicals” 53(221). Both men had been impacted by their observation of the
United States, and both saw ways to comment on their Brazilian realities through these
observations. Lobato, however, made these observations later in life and with a firmer
agenda, that of spreading the gospel of U.S. developmentalism. Freyre, by comparison
was observing from a greener perspective. His trajectory from the enthusiastic and at time
homesick musings of a youth to the critical analysis of a more mature adult with more
schooling and more coexistence with North Americans under his belt illustrate his
intellectual formation in the United States. A closer look at some general trends in
52
Ninguem no Brasil – a não ser algum esquisitão – deixa no testamento uns contos de réis para uma
escola, um hospital, ou uma obra de arte. Isto é bom para os ricaços americanos
53
Transformam-se em certos captadores e redistribuidores do dinheiro. Realizam uma obra de socialização
que constitue o sonho dos radicais russos” (221).
64
Freyre’s crônicas in comparison with Lobato’s later in life commentaries on the United
States will further highlight these differences and illuminate the ways the United States’
impact varied between the writers.
As mentioned above, Freyre seems to take very seriously the duty of informing
his Pernambucan compatriots of the United States, serving as a kind of cultural and
intellectual ambassador, but he also displays a youthful exuberance that charms the
reader. The first of the “Da Outra América” columns, published November 3, 1918, is an
enthusiastic description of a trip to Louisville, Kentucky and Saint Louis, Missouri in
which he informs his Brazilian readers of the status of Catholicism in the United States.
He believes that Catholicism has introduced luxury to church architecture in U.S.
Protestant churches, but that, inversely, has changed via its contact with Protestantism.
One can read this as a metaphor for the way that the United States would end up
influencing Freyre, and perhaps even an indication of his own transformational
aspirations, at becoming more of an international and “modern” cosmopolitan
intellectual. In another of the earliest crônicas, one in which he giddily narrates the first
snow fall he has witnessed, he describes the people, “The Americans are a happy people.
They delight in the simple things of life. They look at the world like a child looks into a
toyshop window, with wide eyes and a smile on their faces” (47).
54
Freyre sees this
sense of joy and curiosity as a positive trait in this point. Unlike his later near mockery of
smiling, childlike Americans quoted above, Freyre sees an almost Christ-like benefit to
the joyous nature of his host society:
54
O americano é um povo alegre. Regala-se com as coisas communs de vida. Olha o mundo como uma
criança numa loja de brinquedos, de cara risonha e olhos arregalados. (47)
65
I do not think that the American laugh always belies frivolity. Socrates left
the world with the impression that a good philosopher neither laughs nor
smiles. A dour sentence. But Jesus came and, under the olive trees of
Galilee, taught without solemnity the most serious and profound truths
that the human race had ever heard. (Tempo de Aprendiz 47) 55
It is not only the American people who are wide-eyed in this crônica. Freyre himself
exudes delight in his description of the varied speakers and performances availed to him
by his study at an American university. “This contact with intellectually seductive figures
is one of the biggest attractions of American college life. It’s good this custom of
bringing great figure of the day to the presence of the students” (48). 56 Throughout the
articles published during his time at Baylor he writes about the distinguished speakers
that he has the opportunity to hear and the intellectual stimulation that they provide.
Lobato also documents his delight at the colder climate of the United States, but
with less of the joyful innocence exhibited by Freyre and more exposure of his proAmerican prejudices. In América his narrator discusses the autumn with Mr. Slang. Mr.
Slang, the quintessential snobbish Englishman, a character who Lobato first invented as a
kind of interlocutor in a discussion of Brazilian development, claims that the tropical
climate of Brazil does not mesh well with the European temperament. He
characteristically states, “This tropical landscape…can only speak to the soul of blacks or
Indians…This strength of nature, raw and brutal, these greens that stay all year without
changing color, none of this touches us Europeans, nor can it touch those here of pure
55
Mas eu não acho que o riso americano signifique sempre frivolidade. Sócrates deixou no mundo a
impressão de que o bom filósofo não ri nem sorri, Sentência sizudo. Mas veio Jesus e ensinou sem
solenidade e às vezes sorrindo debaixo das oliveiras da Galiléia as verdades mais sérias e mais profundas
que a raça humana ainda ouviu (47).
56
Neste contato com pessoas de sedução está um dos encantos da vida universitária americana. É uma boa
prática a de trazer à presença de estudantes os grandes tipos do dia (48).
66
European descent”
57
(17). Lobato considers this and reflects comically that he feels
“more European than American” (18) given his own deep response to the autumn trees of
Washington D.C. These are, “Trees…that were like those that would please that son of
land where it snows---delicate, refined, civilized, sensitive to slightest passing
breeze” 58(20). Later in the book he claims that cold weather is what inspired the United
States to greatness, as people needed to accumulate their agricultural goods to survive the
harsh winter. He remarks, “The cold is the supreme creator. From it emerged thrift,
foresight and cooperation” 59 (85).
For Lobato, Washington D.C., with its trees most pleasing to Euro-descendents,
was a dream city, a place where his America was built symbolically in monuments and a
sense of order. He claims, “All it takes is one visit to the city for the main facts of
America’s political formation to draw themselves forever in our spirit” 60(32). He
describes the monuments and their engravings in stultifying detail, at times only
reproducing those engravings in English because, “…to dress a subtle thought from an
English mind in Portuguese words is to substitute Cinderella’s glass slippers with little
clogs” 61(32). While Lobato’s tone surely contains satirical elements, his combination of
reverence for the United States and dismissal of Brazil seems dissonant to a reader
57 Esta paisagem tropical…só pode falar à alma dos negros ou índios, ou dos que têm no sangue
predominância de sangue negro ou índio…Esta pujança da natureza, crúa e brutal, estes verdes que varam o
ano sem mudar de tom, nada disto nos toca, a nós europeus, nem pode tocar aos daqui de pura
descendencia europeu (17).
58
Arvores…eram como as queria aquele filho de terra onde neva: ---delicadas, apuradas, civilizadas,
sensiveis à menor brisa perpassante (20).
59
É o frio o supremo criador. Dele saiu a economia, a previdência, a cooperação (85).
60 Basta uma visita à cidade para que os fatos capitais da formação política da América se desenhem para
sempre em nosso espirito (32)
61
vestir com palavras lusas um sutil pensamento pensado por cerebro ingles é substituir os sapatinhos de
cristal Cinderela por tamanquinhos (32).
67
familiar with current mainstream Brazilian discourses, not to mention Lobato’s own
sense of dedication to his nation. Freyre, on the other hand, had more ambivalent feelings
about Washington D.C. He visited the city on several occasions to see his dear friend
Oliveira Lima. He did hold an affection for the capital, however in one of his crônicas he
stresses his preference for older cities:
I also prefer…old cities to new ones. This is for the same reason that I
prefer the chatter of a Balzac-style woman (femme a 30 ans) to one of
Bernardim Ribeiro’s little creations (girlish maiden). And a old and
haunted to house to a new “chalet.” Time lyricizes people and things.
(Tempo de Aprendiz 139) 62
This poetic rhapsody about his preference for aged people and places is the romantic side
of his commentary on his preference for tradition and an older world. As Pallares-Burke’s
biography makes clear from its title, A Victorian in the Tropics, Freyre, even in his early
twenties, was something of an anachronistic and dislocated creature. (José de Paula
Ramos Júnior also documents this late romantic traditionalism in an article for University
of São Paulo’s magazine). What impressed Freyre the most about the United States was
the access it gave him to great thinkers in a variety of fields. The rich intellectual and
cultural life of the United States permeates Freyre’s descriptions of the country as much
as numerical statistics and awed platitudes spangle Lobato’s. In several of Freyre’s
columns he comically carps about the technological developments and cultural trends that
so captivated Lobato both before and during his stay in the United States.
In an article dating November 27, 1921, he complains about “telephonitis,” a
plague that leads to the ruin of gentlemanly and ladylike behavior. He decries the
62
Eu também prefiro…às cidades novas as velhas. Isto pelo mesmo motivo por que prefiro o tagarelar de
uma mulher a Balzac (femme a 30 ans) ao de uma criaturinha a Bernardim Ribeiro (menina-moça). E uma
casa antiga e mal-assombrada a um “chalet” novo. O tempo poetiza as coisas e as pessoas (139).
68
crowded subways and brutish manners that urban living creates, writing in an article from
March 13, 1921, “Furthermore, with the equality of the sexes, democracy and other
pretty modern things, chivalry is going up in smoke. In the streets of New York,
Diogenes would be more likely to find a ‘man’ than Emerson would find a gentleman”
(Tempo de Aprendiz 96). 63 While Lobato did mention the exhaustion he felt in New
York in the above quoted excerpt from Azevedo and Camargo’s biography, in América
he portrays the city as the acme of human development. Freyre may have been
enthusiastic about the intellectual life of the city, but he also found it an off-putting hive
of humanity.
The two even have surprisingly different reactions to the popular culture of the
day. Lobato focuses more on the cinema than Freyre, simply because film had become a
more dominant media by the time he arrived in the United States. Both, however were
exposed to jazz music and dance trends in the United States. Freyre writes a conservative
rant about jazz music in a November 13, 1921 article that even Hermano Vianna
mentions in his The Mystery of Samba:
Take note of the names of American dances. They are the names of
graceless, vulgar, proletarian animals. ‘turkey trot’, ‘fox trot’, ‘the lame
duck’, ‘grizzly bear’…All that’s missing is to name a dance “the pig” that
has the viscous flopping of that mud-wallower” (Tempo de Aprendiz
155). 64
A decade later, Lobato, on the other hand, could see merit in jazz music. He complains
about European and elite Brazilian dismissal of U.S. culture:
63
Demais, com a igualdade dos sexos, a democracia e outras bonitas coisas modernas, está a esfumar-se
dos nossos habitos o de cavalheirismo. Mais depressa acharia Diogenes, nas ruas de New York, homens,
que Emerson um gentleman. (96).
64
Reparem os nomes das dancas americanas. Sao nomes de animais desgraciosos, vulgares, proletarios:
"turkey trot", "fox trot", "the lame duck", "grizzly bear"...Falta dar o nome do porco e algo que tenha a
moleza viscosa desse remexedor de lama (155).
69
America has been very misunderstood by those who only look for the
classic forms of universal artistic creation. These lame observers forget to
note “the extra” that America is giving, the new and the original that
comes from their eagerness to uproot themselves from the status quo of a
civilization crystallized in Europe. They will, uncomprehending, call them
barbarians. 65 (América 121)
He goes on to compare a syncopated version of Chopin to a skyscraper and the classical
to a townhouse. He admits to disliking jazz at first, but to truly enjoying it in its context,
going as far as to claim, “Jazz sounds bad away from America” (121). Perhaps Brazilians
had become more accustomed to jazz, or perhaps Lobato heard the new music as the
perfect soundtrack to his dreams of American progress.
Lobato vs. Feminist Puritanism/Freyre vs. the Masses: Sharper Critiques of the
United States.
The excerpts above paint a picture of two intellectuals who were generally quite
pleased with the United States. Freyre may have found some bones to pick with a
perceived vulgarity and brash newness, but he appears as enthralled with the intellectual
offerings of the United States as Lobato did with the technological and industrial progress
that he witnessed. That said, both writers did indeed make significant critiques of the
United States’s system that reflect their divergent worldviews. One area of U.S. life that
clearly made an impression on the two writers was the changing role of women and the
accompanying transformation in sexual mores that was occurring in the late 1910s and
1920s. Freyre actually seems quite accepting of this transformation in some of his
columns. He was enthusiastic about the poet Amy Lowell, and in a profile of her
65 A America tem sido muito mal compreendida pelos que nela esperam encontrar apenas as classicas
formas da criação artística universal. Esquecem-se os observadores capengas de notar “o mais” que a
América está dando, o novo, o inedito, na sua ansia de arrancar-se ao status quo da civilização cristalizada
na Europa. Barbaros, lhes chamam os imcompreensivos. (121).
70
published in August of 1920 he barely touches on her gender, considering her an equal to
male writers of the era and commenting:
There is nobody today in the United States who exceeds Miss Lowell in
her manipulation of the English language, which, at the magic touch of her
hands, sings, undulates, smiles, softly and obediently flexes its muscles
and tendons into impossible movements and rare rhythmic
postures” 66(Tempo de Aprendiz 80).
Despite his willingness to comment positively on women’s contributions to literature, the
young Freyre also continues to manifest the machista ideologies of his day in many of his
articles in Diário de Pernambuco. In one of these from December 11, 1921, he comments
on an article in The Ladies Home Journal about Edith Wilson, the wife of Woodrow
Wilson (who he only refers to as “Mrs. Wilson,”). He comments, “In Mrs. Wilson we do
not encounter the restless woman who wants to kick in all the strong biological and social
economic reasons for a woman to stay a woman” 67(Tempo de Aprendiz 168). He
concludes this article with the sentence, “For there is no greater delight for a woman than
to be governed by her husband” 68(169). In another dating two weeks later he describes a
fair featuring organizations dedicated to public hygiene and expresses pleasure that
women are volunteering in public hygiene organizations because, “It doesn’t interfere
with their greater duties at or near the stove, the oven, the bedroom, the piano and the
cradle” (173-174). He even comments that it would be wonderful if Brazilian woman
66 Ninguém hoje, nos Estados Unidos, excede a Miss Lowell no manejo do ingles que ao toque mágico de
suas mãos canta, ondula, sorri distende múscilos e tendões suavemente, obedientemente, em movimentos
impossíveis, em raras posturas rítmicas (80).
67 Em Mrs. Wilson não encontramos mulher irrequieta, querendo destruir com pontapés todas a fortes
razões de biologia e de economia social a favor de a mulher permanecer mulher (168).
68
Porque não há delícia maior para uma mulher do que ser governada pelo marido (169).
71
could join similar clubs where may even resolve problems of poor taste in decorating and
promote local handicrafts 69 (174).
In the freer (and improved by the benefit of hindsight) context of Tempo
morto…there are several humorous entries where Freyre expresses both appreciation and
shock at the changing sexual mores that he observes, “I continue to lack experience with
a brothel in New York. Greenwich Village, however, in some aspects that I’ve already
gotten to know, shouldn’t be too far from the debauchery characteristic of those
establishments” 70(72). He was shocked and delighted by the sexual freedom of
unmarried women at “necking parties,” going as far to comment, “somebody should write
an essay about this subject” (75). He even meets a Swedish lesbian, prompting him to
ponder whether or not lesbianism is attractive to country girls who arrive in the big city,
and remarks even more on the strong smell of the woman’s sex organs (76-77). While
these anecdotes from Tempo morto…may seem like a more humorous counterpoint to his
more machista statements in Diário de Pernambuco, they still portray a man not
completely accepting of the changing role of women in the United States.
Where the young Freyre may have been mildly scandalized and archly critical of
women’s changing station in the United States, Lobato saw it as the harbinger of doom
69
This passage in full, in the original Portuguese, reads as follows: “Raro o departamento do qual não
sorri, bom e sympathico, um rosto de mulher. Sua colaboração em serviços de caridade e assistência social
neste paiz é notável.
Nem serei eu---apesar da caturrice de que me acusam alguns amigos no tocante ao problema de
“emancipação feminina”---quem resgatará aplausos ás atividades dessa natureza, da parte da mulher. Não
creio que interfiram com os seus deveres máximos ao pé, ou na vizinhança, do fogão, do forno, do
“boudoir,” do piano, do berço. Quão belos seria si, no Brasil, as mulheres se organizassem em “clubs” para
tratar, por exemplo, de como cooperar na obra de assistência social, ou de como tornar mais toleráveis a
olhos artísticos as desajeitadas salas de vistias da burguesia brasileira, com as suas óleo-gravuras e os seus
poeirentos porta-jornaes ou, ainda dos meios de promover de rendas nortistas ou trabalhos de madeira dos
sertanejos?” (69)
70 Continuo a não saber o que é, em Nova Iorque, casa de mulheres da vida. Greenwich Village, porém, em
alguns dos seus aspectos já meus conhecidos não deve estar longe dos deboches característicos dessas
casas. (72).
72
for his beloved progressive society. Lobato’s anxiety around feminism is clearly manifest
in O presidente negro, with its plot focusing on a political war between the sexes. He
mocks the Elvinists, his nightmare version of feminists run amok, and their insistence
that women did not need men. He satirically portrays a new, feminine approach to
knowledge, with Elvinist science teaching that “2 +2 was not forced to equal 4. It was
equal to what it was suited for at that moment” 71(154). Elizabeth Ginway comments on
Lobato’s gender and race based dystopia:
In many ways the novel, a parody of American society, necessarily
exaggerates racial and gender tensions by oversimplifying them. Lobato
portrays an American society and Anglo-Saxon culture in which
politicized women and blacks represent disruptive forces within the social
body. (141)
Even if Lobato’s attack on feminist excesses in O presidente negro was employed as a
parodic tool, his concern with the possible negative impact of feminism and women’s
liberation in América cannot be seen as purely satirical.
Firstly, one cannot neglect just how much of América is dedicated to Lobato’s
perception of a war between the sexes. Five of its 34 chapters are specifically dedicated
to rants about feminism and the negative implications of a Puritanism driven by women
that Lobato identifies as the greatest flaw of the United States. In addition to these
chapters focusing on the dangers of feminism, matriarchy and the perils of Puritan
prudery there are other chapters where he portrays American women as dedicated to
ruining men through the institution of divorce as well as discussions of the weakness of
the male sex drive in the U.S., a flaw Lobato attributes to women’s violating their gender
role and to men’s focusing too much on financial gain. América is peppered with the idea
that men are the disadvantaged in the United States and that women’s power and tastes
71
2+2 não era forçosamente igual a 4. Era igual ao que no momento conviesse (154)
73
are a danger to the progress the country has made. He discusses an M.I.T. professor
named Robert Rodgers that claimed that U.S. schools feminize boys, “American thought
has changed its sex, become feminine---highly detail-oriented, immediate in its
application, rigidly idealistic in spite of facts---and weak when it comes to free critical
examination” 72(186). This feminization of thought led Mr. Slang to dramatically
conclude, “America is already a matriarchy and it will be so on a more intense scale with
each passing year” 73(187). The Rodgers that Lobato discusses was an MIT professor
who published an article in The Literary Digest in 1929 called “Is Woman Ruining
America?.” In addition to his general disdain for the feminization of North American
thought, he had particular antipathy for the “tall-hatted women” that enforced morality
and imposed censorship on film and literature. In an emotional comment he writes, “I
detested them from the depths of my soul. My enthusiasm for the achievement of the
Americans was suffering constant icy showers, that were the signs of this insidious,
subterranean action of the sacristy allied with feminine intellectual pettiness” 74 (140141). Lobato viewed Puritanism as the worst aspect of U.S. society (although he, perhaps
sarcastically, described the first English Puritan settlers themselves as a seed that would
create a mighty civilization in O presidente negro), and he saw the tall-hatted women as
the enforcers of this Puritanism. Lobato was unable to view women’s emancipation and
the equal participation of women in society as evidence of the same type of progress that
72
O pensamento americano mudou de sexo, passou a feminino---altamente acurado em detalhes, imediato
quanto a aplicações, rigidamente idealistica a despeito dos fatos---e debil quanto ao livre exame crítico”
(186).
73
América já é uma matercracia e o será em escala mais intensa cada ano que se passe” (187).
74
Tambem eu as detestava do fundo d’alma. Meu encanto pela realização dos americanos sofria constantes
duchas de água gelada, tais eram os sinais dessa ação insidiosa, subterranea, da sacristia aliada à
mesquinhez cerebral feminina (140-141).
74
had led to the industrial success, public health achievements, high standard of living, and
participatory democracy he so admired. In América, Lobato appears to prefer a society
where women’s participation in the politics and the public sphere would be limited.
Gilberto Freyre could have taken this further, desiring the exclusion of all but an
intellectual elite from the American system.
For the young Freyre, the United States, despite the presence of many great
minds, displayed an intellectual laziness that frustrated him. Even as a young man he
manifested distaste for democracy, or at least for the populist mediocrity that he believed
democracy and equality had created in the United States. This can be noted in his above
quoted lament for chivalry on the subway, and is even further developed in the following
quotation from a July 30, 1922 article in which he discusses U.S. literature:
In my opinion, the fact that the United States has a considerable portion of
the public that is half-educated and to whose taste newspapers and
novelists try to adapt, explains the inferiority of its literature when
compared, for example, to a nation of millions of pure illiterates, like
Russia. A similar comparison can be made between the merry democracy
of watchmakers, innkeepers and schoolteachers that is Switzerland and the
more medieval Spain, which possesses, nevertheless, a strong dramatic
literature. These facts lead us to the conclusion that the illiteracy of a large
part of the populace --- sixty or seventy percent---is more favorable than a
half-education, to the production of literature or of art. Naturally, this
implies the existence of a vigorous elite or intelligentsia. (Tempo de
Aprendiz 223) 75
In a later crônica he critiques theater and journalism in the U.S. for its pandering to
“What the Public Wants,” going as far as writing that his perception that U.S. arts and
75
Ao meu ver o fato de possuírem os Estados Unidos considerável massa de público meio-educado, a cujo
gosto jornais e romancistas procuram adaptar-se explica a inferioridade da sua literatura quando
comparada, por exemplo, a um país de milhões de puros analfabetos, como a Rússia. Igual confronto
poderia estabelecer-se entre a feliz democracia de relojeiros, hoteleiros e pedagogos que é a Suiça e a mais
mediévica Espanha, possuidora, entretanto, de forte literatura dramatica. De modo que os fatos parecem
levar-nos à conclusão de que o analfabetismo de grande parte dum povo --- sessenta ou setenta por cento --é mais favorável que uma meia educação, à literatura e à arte. Naturalmente está subentendida a existência
de uma elite ou uma inteligencia vigorosa (223).
75
culture are improving is due to the cultivation of, “a consciousness of intellectual
superiority” (223). 76
This interest in the maintenance of some form of elite in the face of the perceived
mediocrity spawned by a democratic society emerges most clearly in an article that
Freyre published in Lisbon in 1923 entitled “Democracy in the United States.” This
intriguing article highlights many of the scholar’s problems with progress and
democratization, and presents his concern with the decline in the quality of political and
intellectual discourse. In this article he paints a picture of the United States facing a
conflict between Jeffersonian and Hamiltonian democracy, between an egalitarian society
and one which values an elite. He sees the egalitarian side of things as somewhat
antithetical to the true nature of the North American people, who he describes as having a
“natural inclination to recognize and obey superiorities of competence, virtue and
capacity for action” (Tempo de Aprendiz 235). He also claims to see a strong yearning for
the past among people in the United States.
The American, whose inventive capacity is notorious, whose love of
adventure is among the liveliest notes of his character, has nevertheless,
learned how to cultivate a cult of the past. Due to this, the anxiety to
modernize, the will to adapt to new living conditions, does not exclude a
respect for prior experience, without which adventures can become
dangerous and times tragic hallucinations…An adventurous people is, at
the same time, being traditionalist and its political and social health results
from this correct balance of qualities (235).
In the remainder of the article Freyre discusses the importance of this traditionalism to
the North Americans and praises it as, “far from being a collective saudosismo, vague
and passive, it is active, dynamic, pragmatic” (236). He also stresses the almost
76
Se os Estados Unidos vêm dando sinais, nos últimos anos, de um movimento de arte e de literatura que
promete muito fruto e muita flor é que se está afirmando, em reduzido número, entre suas gerações mais
novas, uma “consciousness of kind”, como diria o meu professor Giddings. Neste caso, uma consciência de
superioridade intelectual (223).
76
monarchic nature of U.S. presidential democracy. Though he complains about the
demagogic and populist nature of much U.S. politics, he feels he is in good company with
North Americans who themselves seem to be supporting a more anti-democratic, (or at
least anti-demagogic) stance. Even at the tender age of 23, Freyre shows a strong
admiration for powerful leadership and traditionalism, in fact identifying these as positive
traits of the United States that should be preserved against the onslaught of modernity and
mass democracy.
Despite his exasperation with the modernity that he encounters in the U.S., the
young scholar never conveys the unrealistic sense that his native Pernambuco and its
traditionalism present an immediate foil to the vulgarity and mediocrity that he has
encountered abroad. In these very same articles where he lampoons U.S. habits and overenthusiastic progress, he also often includes a barb aimed at his Brazilian readership, thus
connecting his critique of the United States with a similar critique of his homeland. In the
same article where he mocks the inane zoological dances and the jazz and ragtime music
that accompany them, he also criticizes Brazilians for “aping” 77 these absurd trends and
not embracing better examples of North American culture. “We continue to enjoy the
racket of ‘jazz bands’. We continue to adore George Walsh and Douglas Fairbanks. This
is all that the digestive apparatus of our poor brains can handle that comes out of the
United States” (156-157). 78 Freyre sees room to sharply criticize both his homeland and
his home in exile. This type of article, in which he begins by critiquing what he considers
77
He uses the Portuguese “macaquear” to describe this imitation.
78
Continuemos a gozar o rufe-rufe de "jazz bands". Continuemos a adorar George Walsh e Douglas
Fairbanks. Dos Estados Unidos isto é tudo quanto pode suportar o aparelho digestivo dos nossos pobres
cerebros. (156-157)
77
the negative aspects of a particular extreme of U.S. culture and ends up making
suggestions for Brazil is common in his articles dating from 1921 and 1922, written while
he was studying at Columbia. While they may illustrate a growing lack of enthusiasm for
the United States, they also influence the ways that his experience in that country was
influencing the view of his pátria.
This negative comparison with the ways things are done in Brazil is not just
reserved for cultural trends. In a discussion of a movement in the United States to
expunge negative aspects of U.S. history from didactic texts, he makes a strong attack on
similar patriotic endeavors in Brazil. He praises New Yorkers who were up in arms over
an attempt to edit history books, a phenomenon that he refers to as a “patriotic lie”
(Retalhos… 15). This moves into a sharp critique of similar, unfounded patriotic fervor
that he has perceived in Brazil itself. This discussion of Brazil’s at times undeserved
ufanismo (laudatory patriotism) parallels Mr. Slang’s from the start of América and
quoted at the beginning of this chapter. This is noteworthy in the face of claims that
Freyre himself, in his uncritical stance on Brazilian race relations and Portuguese
colonialism may have himself been guilty of the type of discourse that he criticized as a
younger man. What is interesting is that, in spite of his lambasting of both U.S. and
Brazilian attempts at bowdlerizing history to create a more flattering image, he also
sympathizes with the impulse to create “patriotic lies.”
In Brazil, this patriotic lying is common ---both in and out of school
textbooks. Outside of Brazil patriotic lying on the part of Brazilians is
pardonable. It is an escape valve for saudades and to neutralize the
unfavorable lies about our country from men of slight opinion that we are
always encountering. (Retalhos…15). 79
79
No Brasil, isto de mentir patrioticamente é comum---dentro e fora de compêndios escolares. Fora do
Brasil, o mentir patriótico da parte de brasileiros é desculpável: é a válvula das saudades e o meio de
78
The desire to find something to value about Brazil in the face of so much foreign
ignorance and misinformation prompted much of Freyre’s work at defining Brazilian
national characteristics and setting up his homeland as a land worthy of admiration by its
denizens. While he may have cautioned against a sanitizing of history and an unrealistic
discourse around the country, he also saw the importance of studying and understanding
Brazil for its own sake.
There are several articles in which Freyre speaks of the ignorance that people in
the United States and Europe display in connection to his homeland. This is a theme that
he shares with Erico Verissimo after him and that will be discussed at length in the
following chapter. In the earlier mentioned article in which he cautions other Latin
Americans against creating an uniformed opinion of the United States by lacking a depth
of contact and “earnestness,” he also cautions his North American hosts against
committing similar errors:
The American himself needs this [earnestness] while travelling in our
lands, especially if they belong, like Mr. Grawford, to the bubbly and
vocal profession of journalism, or else they will go forth like the sensible
missionaries, waiting to encounter the living and perhaps improved and
augmented edition of Dante’s Inferno. (Tempo de Aprendiz 105) 80
Freyre is concerned about the lack of knowledge of Brazil and he takes pains to explain
to his Brazilian readership what little is actually known of them in his column. Among
his earlier columns is one that describes Portuguese as a “clandestine” language because
neutralizar as mentiras desfavoráveis dos senhores de opinião ligeira que a gente está sempre a encontrar
(15).
80
Disto o préprio americano precisa quando em viagem pelas nossas terras, especialmente se pertence,
como o Sr. Grawford, à profissão borboleante de jornalista, ou aí vai como sisudo missionario, esperando
encontrar a edição viva e talvez melhorada e aumentada do Inferno, de Dante (105).
79
of the lack of attention it is given by U.S. academia. He quotes scholar and translator
Thomas Moore Musgrave that there is, “the erroneous opinion that in the Portuguese
language there is nothing to repay the labour of its acquisition” (Tempo de Aprendiz 60).
The general tone of this article is one of distress. 81 Following this, almost as a palliative
to his Brazilian readers, he then enumerates the U.S. and European intellectuals who have
indeed shown an appreciation for the Portuguese language and its literature. He includes
Burton, Grivet, Musgrave, Wilhelm Storck, Lamartine, and Longfellow, whom he quotes
in English as stating, “The Portuguese is softer and more musical than the Spanish” (62).
Though ignorance of Portuguese and of Brazil may have been general, Freyre could
comfort both his readers and himself with this illustrious list of great thinkers who
believed that Portuguese did indeed matter.
Unlike Lobato, who seemed to believe that Brazil was not worth the attention of
the United States in anything but an economic context, Freyre considered his country
worthy of attention. In a column inspired by H.L. Mencken and George Jean Nathan’s
satirical The American Credo 82 Freyre attempts to list his own encounters with U.S.
ignorance of Brazil.
Searching through the observations of three and half years I believe that I
am not wrong in considering axiomatic the following beliefs of Americans
from the United States in relation to South Americans: Brazil is very big,
the size of Texas; civilization in South America truly dates from the first
North American missionaries;…all of us young South American men can
play viola, fight bulls, have black hair and eyes and a scar on the body or
the face from dueling or being gored by a bull or some revolution; all
South Americans are brown-skinned;… South America is one republic
81
. E a língua dessa gente também veio a interessar esse sábio anglo-saxão, esse membro da “English
speaking race”, cuja frieza para com as línguas dos outros é bem conhecida (66).
82
The axioms themselves are quite farcical, including the likes of, “ #29) That if a man takes a cold bath
regularly every morning of his life he will be ill. #30) That gingersnaps are made of the sweepings of the
floor in the bakery. #31) That every circus clown’s heart is breaking for one reason or another” (112).
80
with many states with its capital at Buenos Aires; South American
students who come here never study (99 percent true), South Americans
speak ill of the Monroe Doctrine even though they benefit from it (95
percent true)…(Tempo de Aprendiz 149) 83
This humorous passage not only mocks ignorance in the U.S., but also illuminates some
of Freyre’s own insecurities as a Brazilian. There seems to be an insistence to prove that
Brazil is not a wild, tumultuous country, that it is sovereign and certainly not subordinate
to Buenos Aires, and particularly interestingly that not all Brazilians are nonwhite. This
final point to prove reflects the preceding decades’ concern with racial inferiority and the
whitening of Brazil that was mentioned earlier in this chapter. A concern with the
perception of nonwhiteness is noteworthy given Freyre’s eventual insistence that Brazil is
fundamentally a mixed race society that should value its black admixture. A closer
examination of the racial element of both Freyre’s and Lobato’s discussions of both
Brazil and the United States will lead this chapter to its conclusion.
Race and the Young Freyre’s American Experience
Casa-grande e senzala, Freyre’s revolutionary interpretation of Brazil discussed
at the start of this chapter, bears a strong imprint of his experience in the United States
83
Vasculhando observações de três anos e meio creio não errar reduzindo a artigos de fé as seguintes
crenças de Americanos dos Estados Unidos com relação a Americanos do sul: que o Brasil é muito grande,
do tamanho do Texas, que a civilização na América do Sul data realmente dos primeiros missionários
norte-americanos; que se fala em espanhol em toda a América do Sul; que o espanhol é um idioma muito
fácil de aprender; que todos nós, rapazes sul-americanos, tocamos viola, somos ‘toreros’, temos cabelo e
olhos pretos e a cicatriz na face ou no corpo duma chifrada, dum duelo, ou duma revolução; que todos os
sul-americanos somos morenos; que na América do Sul só nascem louros filhos de missionários norteamericanos, de cônsules e de caixeiros viajantes dos Estados Unidos; e que as mulheres sul-americanas são
todas gordas, de olhos negros e pestanudos e só saem à rua de face meio tapada pelo leque e e mantilha de
renda, para ir à missa; que o Colonel Roosevelt descobriu um rio quase tão grande como a Amazonas: que
as serpentes e os macacos rastejam ou saltam dentro das casas; que a América do Sul é uma república, com
vários estados, e capital Buenos Aires; que os estudantes sul-americanos que vêm para aqui não estudam
(99 por cento de verdade); que os sul-americanos falam mal da Doutrina de Monroe, porem têm
aproveitado dela…(149)
81
from the very beginning. In the fourth and fifth paragraphs of the preface he describes a
journey through the Southern United States:
The region where the patriarchal economy create almost the same type of
aristocrat in the big house, almost the type of slave in the slave quarters, as
in the north and certain segments of south of Brazil; the same taste for the
sofa, the rocking chair, for good cooking, for women, horses and
gambling; that suffered, and shows the scars if not the still-bleeding open
wounds of the same devastating regime of agricultural exploitation…At
times it is so similar that only the trappings vary: differences in language,
race and religion. 84(44)
By describing the U.S. South in this preface Freyre conveys the importance of his
dislocation to his interest in and analysis of Brazilian society. The centrality of this
dislocation and alienation as a source for comparison and eventual self-exploration
appears just two paragraphs later in his famous description of the shame he felt at seeing
a group of Brazilian sailors in Brooklyn:
It was as if everything depended on me and on those of my generation, on
our approach to resolving centuries-old questions. Among Brazilian
problems, none upset me more than that of miscegenation. I once saw,
after three solid years of absence from Brazil, a band of our sailors--mulatos and cafuzos---disembarking from either the São Paulo or the
Minas into the wet snow, They gave me the impression of caricatures of
men. A sentence from a book by an American traveller in Brazil that I had
just read came to my memory. “The fearfully mongrel aspect of most of
the population. This was the result of miscegenation. 85(45)
84
Região onde o regime patriarcal economia criou quase o mesmo tipo de aristocrata e de casa-grande,
quase o mesmo tipo de escravo e de senzala que no norte do Brasil e em em certos trechos do sul; o mesmo
gosto pelo sofa, pela cadeira de balança, pela boa cozinha, pela mulher, pelo cavalo, pelo jogo; que sofreu,
e guarda as cicatrizes, quando não as feridas abertas, ainda sangrando, do mesmo regime devastador de
exploração agrária…Às vezes tão semelhante que só varia o acessório: as diferenças de língua, de raça e de
forma de religião. (44)
85
Era como se tudo dependesse de mim e dos de minha geração; da nossa maneira de resolver questões
seculares. E dos problemas brasileiros, nenhum que me inquietasse tanto como o da miscigenação. Vi uma
vez, depois de mais três anos maciços de ausência do Brasil, um bando de marinheiros nacionais---mulatos
e cafuzos---descendo não me lembro se do São Paulo ou do Minas pela neve mole de Brooklyn. Deram-me
a impressão de caricaturas de homens. E veio-me à lembrança a frase de um livro de viajante americano
que acabara de ler sobre o Brasil: the fearfully mongrel aspect of most of the population.” A miscegenação
resultava naquilo. (45)
82
This often-quoted and analyzed text can be interpreted as Freyre’s mea culpa, his way of
explaining his earlier feelings about being Brazilian, about the miscegenation that
resulted in much of Brazil’s population and contributed to its cultural practices. He
clarifies that his Americanized viewpoint caused him to cringe when the thought about
miscegenation and its contribution to his homeland’s demography and culture. He
attributes the evolution of his opinions to studies under Franz Boas at Columbia, where
he claims, “I learned to consider the difference between race and culture to be
fundamental; to discriminate between the effects of purely genetic relationships and those
of social influence, cultural heritage and environment” 86(45). The book that would
follow this confession of ignorance and explication of enlightenment did indeed purport
to celebrate the multiracial roots of Brazilian culture and credit the indigenous and
African contributions of that culture, a shift in Brazilian discussions of their civilization.
While Freyre makes this shift within his intellect seem like a simple
transformation, many scholars have investigated the real intellectual transformations that
led to such a radical proposal. Some, like Skidmore, have agreed that this transformation
was a simple case of comparison of a violent United States with a less violent Brazil. In
“Brazil’s American Illusion” he writes:
His vision of the evolution of Brazil’s patriarchal social structure was
written with one eye cocked on the worst aspects of U.S. race relations;
the brutal lynchings, the humiliating segregation and the white man’s
pathological fear of a black threat to white women” (76).
Other scholars have focused more on contributing factors in Brazil that may have led
Freyre to such a change, while others look at global trends and his own studies in the
86
Aprendi a considerar fundamental a diferença entre raça e cultura; a discriminar entre os efeitos de
relações puramente genéticas e os de influências sociais, de herança cultural e de meio (45).
83
United States. There is Ricardo Benzaquén de Araújo's focus on the famous passage in
the Preface to Casa-grande e senzala in which he skeptically discusses “conversion” on
the part of Freyre from a believer in the racial and genetic inferiority of his people to one
of who celebrates that population. There is Hermano Vianna's discussion of a Freyre who
has returned from the United States critical of its vulgar popular culture being seduced by
a night of samba music in Rio de Janeiro. There is Marcos Chor Maio’s discussion of
Freyre’s interest in a more Lamarckian approach to eugenics in his article “Estoque
semita,” where he comments on the role of the Jew in Freyre’s view of Brazilian society.
He writes, “In the 1930s, Freyre, with this Neo-Lamarckian perspective, believed in the
creaton of a new “Luso-Brazilian” race, the product of a combination between heredity
and environment” 87(99). There is Pallares-Burke's own affirmation that Freyre was most
influenced by non-mainstream British Victorian thought that celebrated the tropics and a
manorial traditionalism, as well as a personal disappointment in the racism he
encountered in the United States. It is Pallares-Burke’s investigation, one which focuses
on the “Outra América” columns as well as earlier drafts of what would become Casa
grande e senzala, that is of most pertinence to this thesis.
Pallares-Burke portrays a young man with highly ambiguous thoughts on the
subject of race, an ambiguity that would make sense given his origins in Pernambuco and
his time spent in the American South:
At the same time that he would refer with contempt to a decadent
Brazilian aristocracy that mixed and cohabited with “fat, kinky-haired
mulatas,” he would express nostalgia for the good old times of the slaveholding South and would get enthusiastic over eugenic politics in the
United States, but he also would occasionally appear impressed by Franz
87
Em plena década de 30, Freyre, em sua perspectiva neolamarckista, acreditava na criação de uma nova
“raça luso-brasileira”, produto da combinação entre hereditariedade e meio ambiente (99).
84
Boas and his questioning perspective of these views and the science that
supposedly backed them. 88(303)
While the young Freyre saw the merits of his study under Boas, he was thoroughly
steeped in a racist intellectual culture and this complicated the young scholar’s chances of
immediately changing his opinions on race. Pernambuco in the early twentieth century
was a hierarchical society that placed people of color in the lower strata. Pallares-Burke
affirms the racial prejudices that the young Freyre (as well as other Brazilian intellectuals
of the day), would have manifested, “In the articles that he sent to Diário de Pernambuco
during his American phase, Freyre occasionally let prejudices come out that, in all
probability, he shared with many of his readers”
89
(273). Furthermore, the Texas where
Freyre arrived in 1917 was a society with a strict segregation of races that was plagued by
violence against people of color. Pallares-Burke relates Freyre’s reminiscences of
learning, “…Southern etiquette which included how to deal with blacks, ‘as the member
of a superior race in regard to an inferior one,’ and never to call them ‘Mister’ “ 90 (272).
The young Freyre’s cultural and intellectual environment favored white supremacy and
was critical of miscegenation.
Pallares-Burke exposes the young Freyre’s flirtations with eugenics and a form of
academic white supremacism that was at its peak in the United States in the late 1910s
88
A o mesmo tempo que se referia com desprezo a uma aristocracia brasileira decadente que se misturava
e amasiava com “mulatas gordas de cabelo encarapinhado,” expressava nostalgia pelos bons velhos tempos
do Sul norte-americano escravocrata e se entusiasmava pela política eugenista dos Estados Unidos e seus
mentores, também parecia ocasionalmente se impressionar com Franz Boas e sua perspectativa
questionadora dessas visões e da ciência que pretensamente a suspetava (303).
89
Nos artigos que enviou ao Diário de Pernambuco durante seu período americano Freyre deixou
ocasionalmente transparecer os preconceitos que, com toda a probabilidade, compartilhava com muitos de
seus leitores (273).
90
As etiquetas sulistas que incluíam lidar com os negros ‘as the member of a superior race in regard to an
inferior one,’ e jamais chamá-los de ‘Mister’ (272).
85
and 1920s. She writes of his admiration for Madison Grant and Lothrop Stoddard,
authors of the books The Passing of the Great Race and The Rising Tide of Color against
White World-Supremacy, respectively (275-279). In an article for Diário de Pernambuco
reviewing his friend Oliveira Lima’s Na Argentina, Pallares-Burke detects many wistful
comparisons between what Argentina and the United States have apparently done
correctly, by attracting healthy white immigrants, as opposed to what is happening in
Brazil (276). This interest in an hygienicist eugenic approach to development is not
terribly far from the neo-Lamarckism that Chor Maio notes in his own article, that said,
Freyre did also incorporate a certain admiration for white supremacy, of which PallaresBurke observes, “It is as if the young Freyre had to get to know and admire racism in one
of its most extreme forms in order to finally be able to free himself from it” 91 (279). This
exposure of a youthful Freyre very much in ideological opposition to the Freyre that is
imagined today when it comes to discussions of race is an innovative aspect of Pallares
Burke’s book. She herself claims of this:
To recognize that Freyre was representative of his time and milieu and
that, for some time, he adhered to the scientific racism that the discovered
and admired during his stay in the United States, constitutes an essential
step to understand his trajectory and the revolutionary work that he
produced at the start of the 1930s. 92(270)
Her research into this aspect of the young Freyre’s intellectual roots is invaluable for
creating this understanding.
91
É como se o jovem Freyre tivesse de conhecer e admirar o racismo numa de suas formas mais
extremadas para que, finalmente, pudesse se livrar dele (279).
92
Reconhecer que Freyre foi representativo de seu tempo e de seu meio e que, por algum tempo, aderiu ao
racism científico que descobriu e admirou durante sua permanência nos Estados Unidos, constitui um passo
essencial para se compreender sua trajetória e a obra revolucionária que produziu no início dos anos 1930.
(270).
86
One crucial aspect of an analysis of the young Freyre’s racial thought is his
exposure to and processing of racist violence in the South during his time studying at
Baylor. There is a certain narrative of Freyre's intellectual trajectory that stems from an
autobiographical narrative he promoted in interviews and books like Tempo morto :
Freyre is the young Brazilian prodigy educated in American schools and attracted to
study in the United States by his Baptist faith that became disillusioned by the explicit
racism and fundamentalist Christianity that he witnesses in Texas. His own experience of
a lynching in Texas is what led to disillusionment with racist violence in the United
States. This disillusionment morphed into a radical change of intellectual trajectory after
he decides to attend Columbia, where, under the tutelage of prominent anthropologist
Franz Boas, he came to appreciate his mixed race homeland and the contributions of
African and indigenous cultures, and even recognize the many merits of the Portuguese
as colonizers. He then wrote a brilliant masters thesis that eventually becomes one of the
most important texts to discuss the formation of Brazilian identity, a revolution that
finally recognizes Brazil's racial and cultural mixture as a boon to the nation.
The above narrative was contested in he decades after the publication of Casagrande e senzala, particularly in relation to Freyre's flirtations with Portugal starting in
the 1940s and his eventual defense of the military dictatorship and denial of racism in
Brazil after studies by the USP group proved that racism was indeed a problem in the
country. Freyre’s discussions of real world encounters with racist violence in the United
States are most often encountered in works published after his ideas about the race
relations in Brazil came under question. The entry in 1975’s Tempo morto… referring to
Freyre’s witnessing of a lynching is encountered is dated 1919. He describes a “macabre
87
journey” to Dallas with students in his biology class where they had gone to dissect
cadavers (33). Freyre describes their return:
What truly gave me the chills was when, on our return trip, while passing
through a city or town called Waxahaxie (I believe that’s how you spell
this obscure name: American Indian, I suppose, much like Waco), I
noticed an intense smell of burning flesh and was informed in relatively
simple terms, “It’s a black man that the boys just burnt!” Could that be it
exactly? Could that really be the smell of a burnt black man? I do not
know---but this truly did give me chills. I never thought that such horror
was possible in today’s United States. But it is. Here they still lynch, they
still kill, they still burn black people. This was not an isolated incident. It
happens many times. 93(33)
The lynching in Waxahaxie (probably Waxahatchie, TX) was a trauma that inspired
shock, disappointment and contempt for the United States, at least in the pages of his
purported diary. It was an event that he should have reported to a reading public back in
Pernambuco that he so longed to educate about the United States. And yet, this grisly and
outrageous event that the young scholar witnessed in fact never appears in his “Outra
América” articles.
Pallares Burke comments on this glaring absence as well, stating:
All would seem to indicate that the knowledge Freyre had of the heinous
violence committed against blacks in Texas did not result, at least in the
short term, in a questioning of the racism at the basis of the whole
Southern ethos, along with its traditions of “genuine humanism” and its
“anti-industrialist principles.” 94 (275)
93
O que me arrepiou foi, na volta, ao passar por uma cidade ou vila chamada Waxahaxie (creio que é assim
que escreve esse nome arrevesado: ameríndio, suponho como aliás Waco), sentir um cheiro intense de
carne queimada e ser informada com relativa simplicidade: ‘É um negro que os boys acabam de queimar!’
Seria exato? Seria mesmo odor de negro queimado? Não sei--mas isto sim arrepiou e muito. Nunca pensei
que tal horror fosse possível nos Estados Unidos de agora. Mas é. Aqui ainda se lincha, se mata, se queima
negro. Não é fato isolado. Acontece várias vezes (33).
94
Tudo parece indicar que o conhecimento que Freyre teve das violências hediondas praticadas contra os
negros no Texas não resultou, pelo menos a curto prazo, no questionamento do racismo que fundamenta
todo o ethos sulista com suas tradições de “genuine humanism” e “seus princípios anti-industrialistas.”
(275)
88
In other words, the young Freyre that showed an admiration for eugenics and U.S. and
Argentine immigration policies, as well as a well-documented fascination with the
Southern United States and its tradition of plantation nobility (Pallares-Burke also details
this in her chapter, as well as a tolerance and perhaps grotesque interest in the historical
revivalism of the Ku Klux Klan), was perhaps unable to reconcile these interests with his
exposure to racist violence. Pallares-Burke does mention one article he published in
Monteiro Lobato’s Revista do Brasil in August of 1922 where he does criticize North
American moralists and missionaries who preach against evils abroad while they practice
violence against blacks in their own country (318). Furthermore, in my own research it is
clear that Freyre did share this memory well before the 1975 publication of Tempo morto.
There is an interview with Antônio Callado published in a 1962 anthology of
essays on Freyre that commemorates the 25th anniversary of Casa-grande e senzala, that
documents the Anglo-American influence on Freyre. Callado comments on the
possibility of over-simplifying an understanding of these influences on Freyre, writing,
“this was a deceptively easy topic” 95 (103) The article discusses all manner of AngloAmerican influences on Freyre, ranging from his unique style of dressing (he was known
for wearing tweed in the heat of the Pernambucan Carnival season) to his unusual
situation of having first become literate in English due to his contact with Mr. Williams.
It also includes the same verbatim account of the lynching in Waxahaxie that appears in
Tempo morto… Callado introduces this passage, connecting it to the work of Samuel
Putnam, who translated Casa grande e senzala into English. He writes:
Finally, Putnam, who never read G.F.’s Anglo-American diary, perhaps
was unaware that not only the scholar but G.F. the man himself had at
least one experience in the United States that would have influenced him
95
.a aparente facilidade do tema era enganosa” (103).
89
in his judgment that there was more geniality in Brazil in relation to the
slaves. Here is a page from his North American diary. 96(108).
The encounter between Freyre and Callado that produced this article would have
occurred between 1958 (the actual 25th anniversary of Casa grande e senzala) and 1962
(the publication of this anthology). This implies that at this point in time Freyre had this
macabre impression in his possession, in writing, and that he showed it to Callado.
Pallares Burke questions the validity of Freyre’s recollection of the lynching itself. She
begins the paragraph where she discusses his grisly memory by writing, “If we are to
believe his diary-memoir…” 97(274). The fact that the same anecdote appears in the
Callado interview published 12 years prior to Tempo morto… suggests that Freyre, at the
least, did not simply create the anecdote for his published diary. Nevertheless, why would
he have excluded a discussion of racist violence in the American South from his
journalistic accounts of the United States?
It is possible that Freyre had only truly processed the importance of this encounter
with racial violence during his Texas years in hindsight, after he had made a name for
himself as a proponent of the controversial idea that the Portuguese in Brazil employed
less violent form of slavery, thus creating a Brazilian society with a stronger African
presence. It is plausible that Freyre would have had an acute awareness of such violence
in Texas, given that The Texas State Historical Society claims there were 468 lynchings
in Texas between 1885 and 1942, with an actual surge in the number of lynchings during
96
Finalmente, Putnam, que não conheceu o diário anglo-americano de G.F., não sabia talvez que não o
estudioso, mas o próprio homem teve pelo menos uma experiência nos Estados Unidos que terá influido em
seu julgamento de que havia muito mais doçura no Brasil em relação aos escravos. Aqui está uma página
do seu diário norte-americano. (108)
97
A crer seu diário-memória…(274)
90
the years that Freyre spent at Baylor 98.(Ross). Even if Freyre had not witnessed a
lynching in the way he told Callado or published in Tempo morto…, he would have been
well aware of this violence surrounding his intellectual island in Waco. When Freyre’s
ideas on Brazilian racial democracy were problematized by Brazilian social scientists in
the 1950s, he grew more defensive of his comparison of Brazil with the United States.
Chapter Three of this dissertation will explore Freyre’s critique of the United States at
this time in greater detail. It would make sense that Freyre would highlight the racist
violence he encountered in that country when a more contentious comparison of the two
countries was a larger part of his intellectual project. 99
Freyre’s revelation of his encounter with racial violence in the South successfully
became an important part of his accepted intellectual biography. In another article of
Skidmore's published in 2003 and specifically dedicated to Freyre's work, he comments
again on the importance of the United States to the sociologist's project, specifically
commenting on his encounter with lynching. “This was the type of horror story that
Brazilians expected to hear about the United States. And the focus on this type of
violence would become, later, fundamental to Freyre’s comparison between the two
98
On the website of Texas State Historical Association, they detail the following information about this
historical period: “The number of victims continued to decline (to twenty-three in 1908 and fifteen in 1909)
until 1915, when there were thirty-two. The 1915 figure, which is probably an underestimate, reflected an
increase in racial hostility that accompanied the spread of Jim Crow laws and border troubles growing out
of the Mexican Revolution. Six mobs in Cameron, Willacy, and Hidalgo counties accounted for twenty-six
of the victims. In 1922 thirteen mobs claimed fifteen victims. After this there was a sharp decline; 1925
was the first lynching-free year.”
99
Though scholars may interpret Casa-grande e senzala itself as written with an implicit comparison to
the United States (Skidmore says as much in “Brazil’s American Illusion”), there is in fact remarkably little
written in Freyre’s book to positively compare Brazil with the United States. There are many places where
he draws parallels between the U.S. South and Brazil, but it is only in the following sentence where he
actually claims Brazilian superiority over the United States in the realm of race relations: “Não que no
brasileiro subsistam, como no anglo-americano, duas metades inimigas: a branca e a preta; o o ex-senhor e
o ex-escravo. De modo nenhum. Somos duas metades confraternizantes que se vêm mutuamente
enriquecendo de valores e experiências diversas; quando nos completarmos num todo não será com o
sacrifício de um elemento ao outro” (390).
91
countries” 100 (45). Skidmore’s 1974 work Black into White, a major study of Brazilian
racial discourse, includes little mention of the young Freyre’s American experience, with
no discussion of any exposure to the racist violence that Skidmore himself would
mention in two later articles. This implies that Freyre’s own narrative of the development
of his discourse, as well as Skidmore’s appreciation of that discourse was as mutable as
the discourse itself. The trajectory of this discourse is not nearly as simple as is often
taught, and, has been illustrated through this chapter’s examination of his journalistic
production, was informed by Freyre’s contact with a variety of aspects of life in the
United States, including the vogue of eugenics (which Freyre also encountered with
Brazilian sanitarists), the conflict between a perceived intellectual populism and a
scholarly elite, and popular reactions to what he perceived as overly rapid changes to
technology and social mores.
Freyre was the leading proponent of a vision of Brazil that flattered the country
vis-à-vis the northern superpower. Skidmore comments:
Freyre’s genius was to take his prototypical reaction to the U.S. and
develop it into a celebration of Brazil’s uniqueness. He became Brazil’s
best-read nonfiction author because he was able to take one of the
questions preoccupying the elite---was U.S. white supremacy the only
path to national development?---and turn it on its head. (“Brazil’s” 77)
This was indeed genius. It was what led the sociologist to be considered so revolutionary
and it positioned Brazil, regardless of its actual social practices, as a model for other
countries with a diverse racial makeup. The discussion of Brazil as an alternative model
100
Era esse tipo de historia de horror que os brasileiros esperavam ouvir sobre os Estados Unidos. E o foco
nesse tipo de violencia seria, mais tarde, fundamental para a comparacao de Freyre entre os dois paises”
(45).
92
to the United States will be expanded in the third chapter of this thesis through a
discussion of more Freyre, Alceu Amoroso Lima, and Vianna Moog.
For the time being, it is important to remember that Freyre’s American experience
was not one of pure revulsion and the celebration of the homeland. As his own crônicas
and Pallares-Burke’s invaluable work have illustrated, the young Freyre was indeed
impressed by aspects of the United States. The intellectual stimulation that he
encountered at Baylor and Columbia, as well as the openness, friendliness and
intrepidness of North Americans were an inspiration to Freyre in many ways.
Furthermore, the opportunity to examine his own homeland through other eyes at such a
young age gave impetus to create his groundbreaking work. Freyre’s American
experience spawned one of the most important and most controversial works ever written
written about Brazil. Lobato’s more mature experience with the United States led to
lesser known works, albeit ones that remain at the center of contemporary controversies.
Monteiro Lobato’s Conflicted Dreams of a White Prosperity
In his article on “Brazil’s American Illusion,” Thomas Skidmore summarizes
Monteiro Lobato’s enthusiasm for the United States:
To the end Lobato was an unabashed enthusiast of American capitalism.
But it was the industrial success, not the capitalism, that Lobato admired.
Lobato personified, if on a somewhat exaggerated level, more than a few
Brazilians’ hopes that they could emulate U.S. success. (78)
Compared to the Brazil that he had been criticizing since the publication of “Uma velha
praga,” the United States was an extreme case of material success. A major component of
this material development for Lobato was public health and hygiene, as well as the more
racially oriented aspects of eugenics. Lobato’s attempts to discuss eugenics in books like
93
América and O presidente negro, has led to controversy as Brazilians confront his legacy
in recent years.
O presidente negro, the eugenicist science fiction novel described earlier in this
chapter, gained some notoriety in Brazil when Barack Obama was elected president of
the United States in 2008. Elaine Bittencourt wrote an article in the Gazeta Mercantil
entitled “Monteiro Lobato, o Nostradamus brasileiro” in November of 2008 that
discusses the author’s prescience. She claims, “Without wanting to be a prophet,
Monteiro Lobato used only his extreme lucidity and desire to create a different world to
imagine how the future would be” 101(4). Bittencourt’s article goes on to interview
scholars who specialize in Lobato about his role in Brazil’s quest for development and his
general brilliance. Elements of prophecy that she encounters in the novel include the
election of a black president, the internet, telecommuting and the credit crisis. Her article,
however, avoids such crucial, dystopic plot points of the novel as the passing of a eugenic
law sterilizing “perverts” and the “deficient,” feminists abandoning their principles and
seeking the protection of white men once a black president is elected, and the eventual
resolution of racial tension in the United States through the invention of a hair
straightening procedure that also sterilizes blacks. One can only hope that Lobato was
more of a satirist than a prophet. Whether Lobato’s writing reflects his own personal
values rather than a widespread racialst discourse current at the time, has become a hotly
debated issue in Brazil today.
In 2010, the Brazilian Ministry of Education began an investigation of Lobato’s
children’s book Caçadas de Pedrinho to determine if that book should be removed from
101
Sem querer ser vidente, Monteiro Lobato usava apenas a extrema lucidez e seu desejo de criar um
mundo diferente para imaginar como seria o futuro (4).
94
school curricula because of its racist content (Eisenberg et al.). The mainstream media in
Brazil came to the defense of Lobato and the book, considered a children’s classic and
present in school curricula for decades. In a 2013 article from Revista dados examining
the case, João Feres Júnior, Leonardo Fernandes Nascimento and Zena Winona
Eisenberg discuss this rush to defend Lobato and the suppression of any discussion
around the author’s racism. The authors of this article document the media’s attack on
political correctness surrounding the criticism of the book, which they atempt to
summarize, “If we were to risk a summary of the general argument it would be as
follows: The censorship of Monteiro Lobato, product of the actions of a government led
by leftist radicals opposed to freedom, has occurred in the name of political
correctness” 102(Eisenberg et al). The authors proceed to document the more racist
aspects of Lobato’s work and his own ideological underpinnings. They cite a letter from
Lobato to the doctor Arthur Neiva in which he mourns Brazil’s mestiçagem and praises
the Ku Klux Klan.
Some day we will see the justice of the Ku Klux Klan; if we had a defense
of that type here, that kept the black man in his place we would be free of
the plague that is the Carioca press --- little mulattos pretending to be
gallegos 103, and always destructive because mixing with blacks destroys
constructive capacity. (Eisenberg et al) 104
While the media and several scholars of Lobato may have come to his defense, this
exploration of Lobato’s children’s literature should have led to broader conversations
102
Se fôssemos arriscar um argumento geral, ele teria a seguinte forma: a censura a Monteiro Lobato,
produto de ações do governo capitaneado por radicais de esquerda avessos à liberdade, se faz em nome do
politicamente correto. (Eisenberg et al)
103
In this letter “gallego” refers to Spanish immigrants, already considered a lesser form of white
immigrant in Brazil.
104
Um dia se fará justiça ao Klux Klan; tivéssemos ahi uma defeza desta ordem, que mantem o negro no
seu lugar, e estariamos hoje livres da peste da imprensa carioca – mulatinho fazendo o jogo do gallego, e
sempre demolidor porque a mestiçagem do negro destróe a capacidade constructiva (Eisenberg et al)
95
about the author’s racial theories. The letter that they cite is quite inflammatory, and to be
fair to Lobato, does not reflect views that were rare in Brazil at the time. That said, it is
important for scholars to better understand these views. O presidente negro, that bizarre
book both aimed at and inspired by the United States, is a perfect place to examine
Lobato’s thoughts on race and the way that the United States entered his mentality.
O presidente negro is permeated with a determinist racial discourse. An example
of this is Miss Jane’s already cited monologue in which she defends the United States to
Ayrton.
Just take note: what is America if not the happy area that from the
beginning attracted the most eugenic elements of the best European races?
Where else is there vital force for the white race if not there? Just the
origin of the Americans are thrilling. Who were the first colonists? Who
was that people of the Mayflower? Men of such temperament, such
Shakespearean characters, that they did not vacillate for a moment when
they had to decide between abandoning their convictions and emigrating
to a desert, an empty and savage land where all was harsh and
inhospitable. Emigration, even today, demands a high degree of audacity,
an elevation of the vital tone. To leave your land, your home, your friends,
your language, to cut all roots that have kept you on your native soil since
childhood. Can there be greater heroism? 105(90)
The satiric element of O presidente negro cannot be denied. Timothy Brown in the 1960s
certainly interpreted the novel as a pure satire and claimed, “Lobato the satirist is never
far away,” and “The humor and satire are the best ingredients in the book” (102). At the
same time, a reader also cannot deny the reflections of some of Lobato’s earnest opinions
105
Note apenas: que é a América senão a feliz zona que desde o início atraiu os elementos mais eugênicos
das melhores raças europeias? Onde há força vital da raça branca senão lá? Já a origem do americano
entusiasma. Os primeiros colonos, quais foram eles? A gente do Mayflower, quem era ela? Homens de tal
têmpera, caracteres tão shakespearianos, que entre abjurar das convicções e emigrar para o deserto, para a
terra vazia e selvagem onde tudo era inospitalidade e dureza, não vacilaram um segundo. Emigrar ainda
hoje vale por alto expoente de audácia, de elevação de tônus vital. Deixar sua terra, seu lar, seus amigos,
sua língua, cortar as raízes todas que desde a infância nos prendem ao solo pátrio, haverá maior heroísmo?
(90)
96
about topics like efficiency, industrial development and of course, Henry Ford, that also
appear in the book. Does the novel’s fantastical exterminist conclusion reflect Lobato the
satirist or Lobato the white supremacist (or segregationist)? In her own analysis of the
novel, Daphne Patai opines on this question.
Patai describes Lobato’s evaluation of pseudoscientific racism as, “in some cases
highly complex and even contradictory” (72), but nevertheless maintains that Lobato did
indeed believe in the racist ideology that he espouses in the novel, “Lobato assumes total
racial antagonism to be the primary fact of life --- on biological grounds” (72). She notes,
“… the impossibility of accepting Black rule (which is never argued in a detailed way but
is justified by the continual references to the inferiority of the Black race) is taken for
granted and assumed to justify the elimination of the opponent” (73). Patai also
questions, “Is he in earnest? Or is his work satirical? In Lobato’s case this is rather easily
settled. Not only the internal evidence of the text, but also Lobato’s letters reveal the
identity of his own attitude and that of Miss Jane in the text” (73). She uses as evidence a
letter sent by Lobato to Rangel in which he bemoans the mestiçagem he encounters in
Rio de Janeiro (73-74).
In my own readings of the letters to Rangel in Barca de Gleyre, there are several
other letters in which Lobato displays a deterministic outlook on life and progress. In a
1906 letter he comments on the importance of instinct and nature in all elements of
human life, “I want one thing: that you point out one good, joyous and healthy act in your
life that does not have its basis in instinct” 106(132). In another letter from 1912 he talks
about his fascination with breeding chickens on his farm:
106
“E quero uma coisa: que você me aponte em tua vida um só ato bom, feliz e saudavel, que não tenha
alicerces no instinto” (132).
97
You cannot overestimate, Rangel, how seriously I take farm labor, nor the
beauties that exist in the soil. The crossing of races, hybridization,
selection --- worlds! All of biology there at the source…It’s impossible
that there’s a better, more noble distraction for a man of letters” 107 (330).
In these letters we encounter a writer who is fascinated by the science of his day, and in
particular, by the opportunities that humans have to tinker eugenically in the propagation
of different elements of species. While he may be delighted by the work of crossbreeding and selectivity, he still feels that the original genetic traits (the instincts), are
more important than any humanistic overpinning. In the novel, he displays this
deterministic approach to the world in the novel itself when Dr. Benson talks with
Ayrton. The scientist believes in some kind of intelligent design in which God, or the
“interferer,” instigated a predetermined path of universal existence, “and since then the
phenomenon of life, which we can also call the universe, has been developing of its own
accord, automatically, through determinism. Things just go on determining
themselves” 108 (48). To illustrate such determinism, Benson use the concepts of seeds
and trees, a metaphor that Miss Jane will later use in her explanation of America’s
greatness as the product of Shakespearean characters. “And what is a seed? A
predetermination. Inside here is predetermined a tree of colossal dimensions that is called
jequitibá”(54). In the minds of Dr. Benson and Lobato, Nature will prevail, and Man’s
science should most focus on facilitating Nature’s plans.
107
Não calculas, Rangel, como tomo a serio a lavoura, nem que belezas ha na vida de solo. O cruzamento
das raças, a hibridação, a seleção --- mundos! Tudo biologia ali na fonte…Impossível melhor distração, e
mais nobre, para um homem de letras (330).
108
e desde então o fenômeno vida, que também podemos denominar universo, desenvolve-se por si,
automaticamente, por determinismo . As coisas vão-se determinando.(48)
98
The other possible answer to this question is that Lobato’s discussion of race in O
presidente negro is a satire of U.S values on race. Preeminent specialist on Lobato,
Marisa Lajolo, points to this in her own discussion of race in Lobato’s work. She believes
that Lobato’s approach to racial questions does not differ dramatically from that of other
Brazilian writers. “Effectively, the representation of blacks, in Lobato, does not present a
very different route than that taken by of a good part of Brazilian intelligentsia, and not
even just Lobato’s contemporaries, in relation to that question” 109(2). Following Lajolo’s
arguments, Lobato’s dark dystopian fantasy of race relations in the United States is
neither praise nor critique of the country, but rather an attempt at removing those issues
from Brazil to allow further discussion. Lajolo writes:
The clash of the races that the novel narrates explodes in another
hemisphere and several centuries ahead, which, literally distances the
controversial theme, a mitigating mechanism that reinforces itself through
the tone of parody and chanchada that abandons the future and the
distance, returns to the here and now of a rather provincial Rio de
Janeiro. 110 (6)
Lobato’s use of the United States as a setting for his tale of racism is a tool for Brazilian
readers to perhaps reflect on race relations in their own country. Lajolo comments,
“Whether in the fantastic realism of his North American story, or in the infantile and
quotidian realism of Dona Benta’s farm, the [racial] conflict is violent because it was no
109
Efetivamente, a representação do negro, em Lobato, não tem soluções muito diferentes do
encaminhamento que a questão encontra na produção de boa parte da intelectualidade brasileira, e não só
da contemporânea de Lobato (2).
110
O choque das raças que o romance narra explode em outro hemisfério e alguns séculos à frente, o que,
literalmente, afasta o tema polêmico , mecanismo de atenuamento que se reforça pelo tom de paródia e
chanchada dos capítulos finais que, abandonando o futuro e a distância, voltam a centrar-se no aqui e agora
de um Rio de Janeiro bastante provinciano (7).
99
less violent in real life, neither above nor below the Equator” 111(7). While Lobato may
have displayed the influence of certain racist thinkers in the United States, such as Henry
Ford, he was not unaware of the violence that Afro-descendents faced in both countries.
O presidente negro itself features a poignant narration of the trauma of enslavement and
violence at the hands of slave-owners that Lobato includes after Jim Roy is elected,
where the president-elect thinks of “two centuries of whips and the laceration of flesh and
two more centuries of moans and laments and cries of pain,” 112(133). In spite of this
sympathy for the violent experience of enslaved Africans in the new world, Lobato also
showed sympathy for ideologies that contributed to the marginalization of those
communities. Perhaps the best conclusion that can be drawn about Lobato and race can
be its very ambivalence.
In her chapter on O presidente negro, M. Elizabeth Ginway analyzes the novel as
a work in which Lobato is torn between two different approaches to eugenics. One of
these is the Lamarckian approach that was most common in Brazil, and that viewed
improvements in hygiene and public health as a path to creating a purer, healthier society.
In the 1920s, a Mendelian conception of eugenics that focused specifically on racially
inherited traits had also infiltrated Brazilian intellectual circles, as illustrated by Freyre’s
own flirtations with discourses of white supremacy in the early 1920s detailed earlier in
this chapter. Ginway comments on the evidence of Lobato’s earlier interest in
Lamarckian eugenics in his Jeca Tatu stories. She believes that he became considerably
influenced by the later Mendelian turn and writes the following:
111
Quer na chave do realismo fantástico da história norte-americana, quer na do realismo miúdo e
cotidiano do sítio de Dona Benta, o conflito é violento porque ele não era menos violento na vida real, nem
abaixo nem acima do Equador (7).
112
dois séculos de chicote e lacerar carne e outros dois séculos de lágrimas, de gemidos e lamentos e uivos
de dor (133)
100
Given this situation, Lobato began to think about the United States, where,
he believed, blacks and whites remained culturally, legally and sexually
separate. Extrapolating from this firm belief in American racial fear and
prejudice, he took the Mendelian scenario to what he believed to be its
inevitable conclusion, the elimination of the black race in the United
States, in a narrative illustrating principles of social Darwinism and
survival of the fittest. (134)
To Ginway, the novel is an education in Mendelian eugenics, a work that teaches its
reader about the importance of racial purity on the path for progress. “Here, Lobato
seems to imply that racial whitening, an ancillary theory of neo-Lamarckian eugenics,
could not fully resolve the issue of race because it did not resolve the problem on the
genetic level” (138). In América he repeatedly describes the health and beauty radiating
from the young women of the United States, which he views as the result of U.S.
society’s affirmation of Nature’s plans. He muses, mixing Mendelian and neoLamarckian approaches:
Such magnificent creatures! Tall, thin, firm on their feet, truly white,
muscles with the suppleness created by exercise. You can really feel the
good racial origins, the good, vitamin-rich nutrition and hygienic life---all
of which result in health” 113 (207).
Mt. Slang responds that the only place where he has seen such specimens of beauty other
than the United States is Africa. When Lobato the narrator expresses shock Mr. Slang
responds, “Blacks, above all in certain favorable climactic zones, are perfect animals. By
altering and infringing on what there is of nature within us, civilization goes on
deforming us” 114(208). In América, a book specifically targeting a Brazilian audience,
Lobato duplicates the same type of discourse that permeates his science-fiction work
113
Que magnificas criaturas são! Altas, esguias, solidas de pés, brancas de verdade, musculos com a
souplesse que dá a ginstica. Sente-se a boa origem racial, a boa alimentação vitaminada e a vida higienica -- tudo dando como resultado saúde (207).
114
Os negros, sobretudo em certas zonas de condições climatericas favoraveis, são animais perfeitos. Com
alterar e infringir o que ha de natureza em nós, a civilização nos vai deformando (208).
101
supposedly aimed at North American readers. In that book, Miss Jane perhaps sums up
Lobato’s ambivalent feelings racial mixing, Mendelian eugenics, and the importance of
letting nature take its course when she says, “Love killed the possibility of a supreme
biological expression in Brazil. Hatred created the glory of human eugenics in
America” 115(93). This statement is clearly condemnatory of the violence that the United
States’ approach to race implied, but it also celebrates a level of success on the part of
that country. It is an aspect of Lobato’s interpretation of the United States that is difficult
to interpret easily.
Conclusion
In December of 1940, as the Luftwaffe rained bombs on London, Monteiro
Lobato prepared a text entitled “Inglaterra e Brasil” to be read over the BBC as a show of
solidarity between Brazil and the embattled Britain. This text eloquently and poignantly
illustrates the writer’s affinity for an Anglo-American world as well as expresses a state
of shock that such an admirable society should come under attack:
The long victorious life of the English people had accustomed us to seeing
English supremacy as eternal, something justified by the British moral
character and the shimmer of a galaxy spanning from Shakespeare to
Shaw. There was even the land of Lincoln, immense, powerful, each day
more like a world within the world, that we, unconsciously for linguistic
and ethnic reasons, we associate with the English. It’s impossible that this
moral bloc that had been crystallizing for centuries could be smashed by a
purely physical assemblage, a fortuitous agglutination that repugnantly
proposes to restore the world the cadaver of Asiatic despotism dressed in
modern garb. But everything has been happening in Europe at such a
thundering pace that the old idea of the supremacy of the English race has
found itself shaken. 116(“Inglaterra e Brasil”)
115
O amor matou no Brasil a possibilidade de uma suprema expressão biológica. O ódio criou na América
a glória do eugenismo humano...(93).
116
A longa vida de vitórias do povo inglês habituara-nos de admitir como eterna a supremacia inglesa, tão
longamente justificada pelo caráter moral britânico e o fulgor de uma galáxia que vinha, ininterruptamente
102
Lobato opposes a genius England and its American offspring to a wicked return to an
Asian-style despotism, something he refers to repeatedly in O presidente negro, with the
porviroscópio’s prognostications that Europe would become overrun by “Mongoloid”
elements and fall under the spell of despotism and introspection (73). In the rest of the
broadcast continues to sing the praises of British intellectual contributions to the world.
He shows faith that the English will prevail in their battle against fascism, and proclaims:
As compensation, the Good Cause never has had a defender like it has
today. In defense of civilization (no more than the tiresome, uncertain,
dormant but incoercible victory of freedom over slavery), we see the great
race that we trust, the eternal Englishman, that seeded civil liberties in this
world and in each of its daughters, The United States, Australia, New
Zealand, and South Africa, planted the tree of human dignity. 117
(“Inglaterra e Brasil”)
While Lobato’s message may have been aimed at the British people, it portrays for his
fellow Brazilians an intellect inspired by an Anglo-American set of liberal values that
longed to intervene in his nation’s affairs and develop his homeland. In an era when
Vargas was being effectively courted by the Axis powers and was creating an
authoritarian state modeled to some degree on European fascism, Lobato was taking a
de Shakespeare a Shaw. Havia ainda, a terra de Lincoln, imensa, poderosa, cada vez mais mundo dentro do
mundo, que nós, inconscientemente, levados pela língua e a etnia, associávamos aos ingleses. Impossível
que esse bloco moral, com séculos de cristalização pudesse ser esmado por uma agremiação apenas física,
uma aglutinação ocasional e repugnantemente proposta restaurar no mundo o cadáver do despotismo
asiático vestido a moderna. Mas tudo estava se processando na Europa de maneira tão fulminante que a
velha ideia da supremacia da raça inglesa se viu abalada. (Inglaterra e Brasil)
117
Em compensação, nunca a Boa Causa teve o paladino que hoje tem. Na defesa da civilização (que nao
passa de penosa, insegura, recessiva, mas incoercível vitória de liberdade sobre a escravidão ) vemos a
grande raça da nossa confiança, o eterno inglês, que semeou as liberdades civis o mundo e que em cada
nação filha plantou árvore da dignidade humana: Estados Unidos, Austrália, Nova Zelandia, Sul África.
(Inglaterra e Brasil)
103
stand on the side of the Anglo-American world and what he perceived to be its
contributions to freedom and progress.
By the time he had written this radio address Lobato was deep in his feud with the
Vargas government around the exploitation of carbon resources and economic
development. This was the issue Lobato most focused on after his return from the United
States, even when it landed him in prison. It was a culmination of his many years
admiring the United States from afar and within, the direction he saw most fruitful for
Brazil’s progress. He never stopped believing in the United States and a broader
Anglosphere as a model, even when his own speculation in the stock market there led to
his financial ruin. Lobato was a true believer in Fordist economic progress, and his time
in the United States was a chance for him to reinforce his values. He saw the robust
health and beauty of younger women as vindication of his beliefs in eugenics. He saw the
moralizing censorship initiated by older women as evidence of the negative power of
religion and belief in the face of scientific progress. He was able to transform what he
encountered into illustrations of his previously held beliefs, many of which are spelled
out in O presidente negro, in the way he could transform Washington D.C’s physicality.
into a symbolic representation of the greatness he admired.
Freyre, on the other hand, came to the United States with a more open mind, or at
least, a younger, less ideologically set mentality. In his columns describing the Other
America his observations often reflected the mainstream Brazilian views of gender
equality, technological progress, elitism and eugenics held by his contemporaries. A
reader of those columns perceives a transformation of Freyre’s views, which become
more critical of both the United States and Brazil. As Freyre became associated with his
104
own revolutionary contribution to Brazilian discourses of national identity, his
intellectual relationship with the United States would change to fit his new role. Freyre
was a figure who allowed Brazil to celebrate its racial and cultural identity in the face of
global intellectual beliefs of white supremacy. When critics pointed out that his discourse
was helping to maintain that supremacy in both the Brazilian and the Portuguese imperial
context in later years, he was able to use his relationship with the United States to justify
his beliefs. The young man who never reported on racist violence in Texas had become
an older man who relied on a narrative of encounter with said violence to justify his
claims about Brazil. As a public intellectual becomes associated with certain discourses it
can become difficult to be extricate her or himself from this discourse when aspects of it
are questioned.
During the controversy over Caçadas de Pedrinho, Communist politician Aldo
Rebelo published an editorial in the November 7, 2010 edition of the Folha de S. Paulo
that draws a connection between Freyre, Lobato and contemporary perceptions of the
United States in Brazil. He is quoted in Eisenberg, Nascimento and Teles’s article as
describing the Ministry of Education’s criticism of Lobato’s novel as a "servile imitation
of the United States, a country that for centuries is institutionally racist and that today
looks to mask its ethnic bipolarism with so-called affirmative actions” 118(Eisenberg et
al). He went on to describe the country as “a mixed country par excellence” 119(Eisenberg
et al). Rebelo positions Brazil as a positive counterexample to the United States in the
area of race relations using a Freyrean conception of Brazil as a mixed country. What is
118
imitação servil dos Estados Unidos, país por séculos institucionalmente racista que hoje procura
maquiar sua bipolaridade étnica com ações ditas afirmativas (Eisenberg et al).
119
país mestiço por excelência (Eisenberg et al)
105
so ironic is that he uses the opposition created between Brazil and the United States by
Freyre and interpreters of his work to defend Monteiro Lobato, the author who so
fervently believed the United States was a positive model for the United States, even in
terms of race relations. The continuing resonance of these discussions in the Brazilian
public sphere illustrates the resonance of two men’s visits to the United States in the
1920s. This chapter has shown the ways that Gilberto Freyre and Monteiro Lobato
processed the United States, both while in the country and while using their experiences
with the country to create new conversations about Brazil. As recent debates exemplify,
the intellectual legacy of both figures, for good and for ill, remains pertinent to
discussions of what it is to be Brazilian. In the next chapter, we shall explore the work of
Erico Verissimo and his own discussion of what it is to be Brazilian, especially when
inside the United States.
106
Chapter 2: The Many Happy Returns of the Gato Preto: Truth, Stereotypes and
Humanity in Erico Verissimo's Even-Handed United States.
The United States entered the 1940s in a swirl of uncertainty. With Germany's
aggression on the European continent and attack of the United Kingdom, questions as to
whether or not the nation should once again intervene in a rapidly unfolding world war
were central to national debates. The recent closure of European markets and concern
over the influence of Axis powers raised interest in Latin America, manifested by trade
missions, cultural exchanges, and a vogue for Latin rhythms and exotic films set in places
like Rio and Havana. The slow going recovery from the Great Depression was less than
assured in a tumultuous world. It was the perfect setting for the likes of Myra Kingsley,
whose, “claim to the ranking as no. 1 U.S. Woman astrologer is good, (41)” according to
a Life Magazine profile published in August of 1939. In the same profile, Kingsley
predicted that there would be “no war in Europe in 1939, but...growth in fascism here and
a U.S. Revolution in 1942-43” (41). While Kingsley may have misread the stars when it
came to the onset of war and the trajectory of U.S. politics in the 1940s, she was not
mistaken about a certain Brazilian writer she met in San Francisco in 1941. Erico
Verissimo, a young and prolific talent from Rio Grande do Sul was in the midst of his
first journey through the United States when he met Kingsley, who furnished a letter of
introduction to Hollywood screen writer James Creelman in which she describes him
as,“A very interesting young man from Brazil and a very talented author.” She goes on to
107
request that Creelman, “Steer him in the right directions, because he has good ideas”
(Kingsley).
Verissimo most certainly received the right guidance in Hollywood, and
throughout the United States, and his resulting 1941 travelogue, Gato preto em campo de
neve is a masterful portrayal of the United States for a Brazilian audience released at a
pivotal point for relations between the two countries. Verissimo humbly introduces his
book:
“Gato Preto em Campo de Neve” is no more than the simple and objective
narrative of a trip that was, more than anything else, a storyteller's
vacation. I traveled as a human being who was primarily interested in
human beings, albeit one who was also convinced that all things deserve to
be seen – the sublime and the sordid, the trivial and the unusual – because
everything is an expression of life and a novelist should not turn his back
on life. (Gato 5) 120
Gato preto and its sequel, A volta do gato preto met Verissimo’s humble goals. They are
travelogues that display an enormous breadth in their evaluation of the United States, and
furthermore, a concern with the humanization of his subject. In the first volume
Verissimo is awed by the United States, a nation that would become a second home for
him in many ways. He expresses delight at many aspects of the nation, though he
maintains critical distance and never forgets to implement his irreverent Brazilian sense
of humor. He unapologetically flirts with the lines between objectivity and subjectivity in
his travelogues, a trait he shares with Lobato’s and Freyre’s own writing on the United
States. Verissimo's books succeed at both discussing the United States and Brazil in
explicit terms and illuminating a human element. The above-cited author's note highlights
120 Gato Preto em Campo de Neve” não passa, pois, do relato simples e objetivo de um passeio que foi,
antes de mais nada, o feriado dum contador-de-histórias. Viajei como um ser humano interessado
principalmente em sêres humanos, mas convencido também de que tôdas as coisas merecem ser vistas---o
sublime e o sórdido, o trivial e o raro---porque tudo é expressão de vida e um romancista não deve voltar as
costas à vida. (Gato 5)
108
the centrality of humanity to Verissimo's project of explaining the United States to
Brazilians. This humanization perhaps stems from these books' double function as much
as an exploration the author's interior life and relationship to the United States as they
report the actual state of affairs in the northern giant at a time it was making explicit
attempts to gain influence in Brazil.
Myra Kingsley and her meeting with Verissimo is an admittedly peripheral aspect
of his relationship with the United States, but it helps to illustrate one of the differences
between the nature of his relationship to the United States and those explored earlier in
this thesis. Verissimo's United States is too large and too nuanced to function within the
big picture analyses more prominent in the texts cited earlier in this dissertation. It is a
land of neon and luridly colored sweets, of seedy Chinese nightclubs and swanky
diplomatic functions, of movie stars and international literati and ambitious shoeshine
boys. His accounts are filled with intricate descriptions of museums and libraries and
universities the likes of which he had never encountered in Brazil. There is also
discussion of politics and war and a palpable sense of disappointment at people's
ignorance of Brazil. Despite this disappointment, Verissimo takes on the mission of
educating North Americans about his homeland with a good-humored aplomb. He is just
as enthusiastic about creating his own personal vision of the United States that goes
beyond stereotypes and easily digestible formulas. When the song “Oh Suzanna” enters
his head while riding a train through Alabama in A volta do Gato Preto, he is
disappointed in himself and comments, “When will we free ourselves from the films and
plays that we've seen, from the books we've read, from the stories we've heard. When will
it will be possible to look at the world with eyes without memory, pure and natural eyes”
109
(61) 121. Both books present a strong desire on the part of the author to create his own,
unique vision of the United States. This mission lends a certain euphoric element to his
literary project, a very conscious effort to experience as much of the country as possible
in order to create a distinct portrayal. Verissimo's journey into the United States is the
kind of trip where he would have rubbed shoulders with the “No.1 woman astrologist”
and have impressed her enough to get such an enthusiastic recommendation.
Verissimo’s inter-American experiences did not end with the publication of the
two Gato preto books. After the short trip sponsored by the Department of State that led
to the first volume and the longer stint as a visiting professor at UC-Berkeley which
inspired the second, Verissimo returned for another long term stay while working as the
Cultural Secretary for the Pan-American Union (now known as the Organization of
American States). These longer stints tightened his relationship with the United States, as
did his daughter Clarissa's marriage to an American and relocation to Virginia. Even
more than Gilberto Freyre, Verissimo was a Brazilian intellectual figure shaped by his
American experience, an experience that continued to change over the course of his
career. While his only travelogues that dealt explicitly with the U.S. are the two Gato
preto travelogues, his time in the United States makes itself known in fictional works like
the novels O senhor embaixador and O prisioneiro, short stories, magazine interviews,
and letters. This intimacy with the United States made Verissimo vulnerable to attack
when Brazilian intellectuals took more anti-American stances following World War II
and again following the 1964 coup, but it was an essential part of his own intellectual
biography, and one which needs to be known to better understand Erico Verissimo as
121 Quando será que a gente se vai libertar dos filmes e das peças que viu, dos livros que leu, das histórias
que escutou? Quando nos será possível olhar o mundo com olhos sem memória, puros e naturais? (VGP
61)
110
well as Brazilian intellectual and cultural perceptions of the United States. This chapter
will be an attempt at uniting a diffuse body of work and examine how intercultural
relations and observations helped to further the author's work as a cultural intermediary.
Special focus will be paid to the Gato preto books, travel narratives which reveal as much
about Verissimo as an intellectual and creator as they provide an informative and
entertaining panorama of the United States during the Second World War and a period of
enhanced attention on Brazil as a result of the Good Neighbor Policy.
Verissimo (and Brazil) Meet Their “Good Neighbors”: Hollywood, The OCIAA, and
the March to War
In the first volume of Verissimo's 1973 memoir Sólo de clarineta, he discusses
the cinematic excursions of his adolescence, which were mostly focused around French
and Italian films in the years immediately preceding the First World War. In 1915,
however, he noted a dramatic change to these cinematic excursions with the arrival of
U.S. films. He reminisces, “American films conquered us easily through the quickness of
their scenes, their novelty in the form of a mobile film camera (it was no longer just
filmed theater) and their preference for novelistic (novelesco) plots” (108). 122 These new
films, which showcased a particularly idealized American character, were the gateway to
Verissimo's lifetime interest in the United States:
I entered into this long digression about American films because they
were, in large part, responsible for my childhood, adolescent and adult
loves made by the United States, in addition to my disillusionments in
relation to that country, which began to accentuate themselves principally
following the Second World War, when I began to know [that country]
better. Many of the problems that afflict that great nation –which still has
many things to admire and imitate, such as its respect for civil liberties and
122 Os filmes americanos nos conquistaram com facilidade pela rapidez de suas cenas, pelas suas
novidades em matéria de mobilidade da câmara cinematográfica (não se tratava mais de teatro filmado) e
pela preferência pelos enredos novelescos (SC1 108).
111
the good quality of so many of it universities – had their roots in the racial
problems that those films presented in a prejudiced way, and in the
incorrect idea that they gave us life in the United States, showing it off as a
sort of new Heaven on Earth. (113) 123
He describes this erroneous archetype of the ideal American eloquently in his memoirs
as, “....an exemplary citizen, clean in body and spirit, courageous, strong, just, generous,
a God-fearing Bible reader, in sum, a repository of supreme WASP ideals...” (111). 124
When Verissimo got to know the diverse and complex nation that he explored throughout
the 1940s and 1950s, many of these ideals were shattered. Furthermore, the United States
itself was changing, passing through a Depression and a World War, it became more
belligerent and more interventionist and it passed through major social upheavals.
Perhaps it was this difference between the cinematic image of the United States and his
own observations that led Verissimo to long for a world where travelers could create their
own impressions, free from the meddling of cultural mediators (like himself).
Moniz Bandeira comments on the role of cinema in Brazil-United States cultural
relations in Presença dos Estados Unidos no Brasil:
U.S. cultural influence that, in Brazil, accompanied the rise of the
bourgeoisie, only accentuated itself after the imperialist war of 1914-1918.
Cinema, the Lumière brothers' discovery that Hollywood perfected and
that fueled Hollwood's industrial bases, would permit the United States
123 Entrei nesta digressão um tanto longa sobre os filmes de cinema americanos porque eles foram em
grande parte responsáveis pelos meus amores de menino, adolescente e homem feito pelos Estados Unidos,
bem como por minhas desilusões com relação a esse país, as quais se foram acentuando principalmente
depois da Segunda Grande Guerra, quando comecei a conhecê-lo mais de perto. Muitos dos problemas que
hoje afligem essa grande nação –onde há ainda muita coisa a admirar e imitar, como seu respeito às
liberdades civis e a boa qualidade de tantas de suas universidades –tiveram sua raíz nos problemas raciais
que os filmes apresentavam à sua maneira preconceituosa, na idéia errada que eles davam da vida nos
Estados Unidos, mostrando-o como uma espécie de novo Paraíso Terrestre (113).
124...o cidadão exemplar, limpo de corpo e espírito, bravo, forte, justo, generoso, ledor da Bíblia, temente a
Deus, em suma, um repositório dos ideais supremos do WASP, isto é o americano Branco, Anglo-Saxão e
Protestante (111)
112
mass propaganda, the imposition of its way of life, of its culture, and of its
political and military objectives” (207). 125
Moniz Bandeira, who is highly critical of the United States, saw this as a having a
deleterious effect on Brazilian culture, and he stresses negative aspects of U.S. culture
that films introduced to a Brazilian public, “...the cowboy, the sheriff, the gangster and
the G-Man with whom, through films, Brazilians familiarized themselves. Cinema
diffused these lessons of a Manichean philosophy in its duels between bandits and good
guys” (208). 126 Verissimo himself addresses the power of the images of U.S. society that
come across in Hollywood films in both of his Gato Preto books, but he even delved into
the topic before he had ever traveled to the United States.
Verissimo published a short story entitled “Alô! Gangster!” in the Revista do
Globo in 1938, just two years before his first trip to the United States. It is an intriguing
short text that speaks to the allure of U.S. culture transmitted via the silver screen for
Brazilians of his generation. In the story, Murilo, a young bachelor who is struggling to
make it in Porto Alegre, sees a gangster film, the star of which he resembles. His friend
Paiva points this out, and jocularly bellows “Alô, gangster!” at Murilo when the two
meet. Murilo changes, he grows more confident, purchases a Stetson fedora, finds a
girlfriend and eventually asks for a raise. This incenses his boss, who not only denies him
his request, but also fires him. The rest of the story describes Murilo's descent into
poverty and depression. The end of the story, however, features him running into Paiva,
125 A influência cultural dos Estados Unidos que, no Brasil, acompanhou a ascensão da burguesia, só se
acentuou após a guerra imperialista de 1914-1918. O cinema, a descoberta dos irmãos Lumière que
Hollywood aperfeiçoou e lhe deu bases industriais, permitiria aos Estados Unidos a propaganda de massa, a
imposição do seu way of life, de sua culture, de seus objetivos políticos e militares. (207).
126 ...o cow-boy, o sheriff, o gangster e o G-Man, com os quais, através dos filmes, os brasileiros se
familiarizavam. O cinema difundia as lições de filosofia maniqueísta nos duelos entre o bandido e o
mocinho (208).
113
who once again shouts out, “Alô, gangster!” Murilo ends the story feeling happier and
filled with further hope.
This story appears to warn against the embrace of U.S. values and cultural
products (Murilo is impoverished as a result of his embrace of movie gangster swagger),
while it documents the enthusiasm for American culture as a positive phenomenon
(Murilo feels redeemed when he feels like a gangster again). There is even a passage
when Murilo dreams that he is a gangster, “He dreamed that he was gangster, not in
Chicago, but – curiously – in the village where he was born. The henchmen of the
political boss all were afraid of him. He walked down the middle of the street, his hat
down over his eyes, provoking” (10). 127 This passage would have resonated for any
gaúcho who lived through the first decades of the twentieth century, when political
feuding was a major part of life (Verissimo portrays this in many of his more regionalist
works), as well as for Brazilians like Verissimo who opposed the authoritarianism of
Getúlio Vargas's Estado Novo government that was in power from 1937 to 1945. Though
the gangsters from the film were outlaws, they were at least free men who commanded
respect. The character Paiva manifests this admiration for the freedom of the gangsters
when discussing Murilo's similarity to the movie gangster. “We live a life that's turned
off, buddy, emotionless...office, home, office, a movie from time to time. And always in
the same situation at the end of month. Is it a life? No way. These gangsters on the other
hand...” (10). 128 While the attempt to imitate the American way of life may have led to
127 Sonhou que era gangster não em Chicago, mas – estranho – na vila em que nascera. Os capangas do
chefe político tinham todos medo dele. Ele passava pelo meio da rua com o chapéu quebrado sobre os
olhos, provocando (10).
128 A gente vive uma vida apagada, besta, sem emoções...Repartição, casa, repartição, um cinema de
quando em quando. E sempre nessa dependência no fim do mês. É vida? Não é. Ao passo que êsses
gangsters...(10).
114
failure, there was clearly a strong appeal for the characters in Verissimo's story, as they
must have for the author himself.
Verissimo, who was born in 1905 into a wealthy but decadent land-owning family
in Cruz Alta, had a variety of other contacts with the United States in addition to his
cinematic reveries. His education, interrupted was by his parents' separation and the
family's destitution, was at an Episcopalian school in Porto Alegre which had many
connections to the United States. Sólo de clarineta contains descriptions of the
Americans that were a part of his education, and even Brazilians that he admired for their
Americanization. He claims that his English teacher, a Brazilian named Américo da
Gama, could pass for an American (143). He also was influenced by the same reformist
spirit manifested in Monteiro Lobato, one which, as illustrated in the previous chapter
was modeled on the United States. He describes reading Lobato's Urupês, essays that
explicitly searched for positivist solutions to Brazil's problems, in the warehouse where
he was employed after his parents' divorce (163). Verissimo was in love with the English
language and with British literature, even writing a playful piece called “Romance
inglês” in 1937 for Revista do Globo where he both mocks and praises English literature.
He comments, “For us Brazilians language is a hindrance. We still discuss grammar in
Brazil. For the English, language is an admirable instrument of expression: malleable,
alive, definitive” (30). 129 This crônica illustrates some ways in which Verissimo
distinguished himself from the Brazilian intellectual establishment, particularly though
his admiration for the innovative simplicity and directness of English-language literature.
In his article on Verissimo as a cultural ambassador, Richard Cándida Smith discusses the
129 Para nós brasileiros a língua é um trambolho. Ainda se discute gramática no Brasil. Para o inglês a
língua é um instrumento admirável de expressão: plástico, vivo e definitivo” (30).
115
vast amount of translation he had engaged in as young employee at Editora Globo in
Porto Alegre, and comments that this translation work, in addition to the influence of
cinema, made the young Verissimo eager to see the United States when he was invited to
do so in 1940 (12).
Verissimo vividly describes this day in 1940 in his memoir.
Around Christmas of 1940, Santa Claus appeared to me in form of a short,
blond man with glasses who had the air of a German teacher, or better yet,
of a Lutheran pastor. He identified himself as the U.S. Consul in Porto
Alegre, and after I invited him to sit down, he asked me in his somewhat
hesitant voice with little inflection, if would be interested in accepting an
official invitation from the U.S. State Department for a three month visit to
the United States with an itinerary of my choosing. (276) 130
This invitation, while presented in his memoir as an apparently random opportunity, did
not occur in a vacuum. The United States government was engaged in a serious campaign
to win hearts and minds in Latin America, particularly on the eve of the Second World
War. The Good Neighbor Policy of the Roosevelt years was an attempt at changing the
U.S. image in Latin America after the explicit military and political interventionism that
had been the hallmark of U.S. foreign policy in the first decades of the twentieth century.
The Good Neighbor Policy included a concerted effort on the part of the U.S.
government to show Latin American governments and peoples that the American way of
life was desirable, and that the United States respected Latin Americans and had their
best interests in mind. Germany's belligerence in Europe had made U.S. policy makers
apprehensive about U.S. relations with Brazil. Just after Germany invaded France in
130 Pelo Natal de 1940 Papai Natal apareceu-me na figura dum sujeito baixo, louro e de óculos, com
aspecto de professor de alemão, ou melhor, de pastor luterano. Identificou-se como sendo o cônsul dos
Estados Unidos em Porto Alegre, e depois de sentar-se, a um convite meu, me perguntou, com sua voz
pobre de inflexões e meio hesitante, se eu estaria disposto a aceitar um convite oficial do Departamento do
Estado americano para uma visita de três meses aos Estados Unidos, com um itinerário que ficaria à minha
discrição. (276)
116
1940, Vargas made a speech on June 11, 1940 that some policy-makers took as praising
Germany's actions. In his 2000 book O imperialismo sedutor, Antônio Tota cites
passages from the speech, in which Vargas stated, “the era of thoughtless liberalisms and
sterile demagoguery has ended...Vigorous peoples fit for life need to follow the course of
their aspirations” (27). 131. Tota claims:
Germanism was another paradigm that presented itself as an alternative to
dependence in relation to England the growing influence of the United
States. Because of this, the North American Republic, through the means
of Americanism, would have to supplant this German paradigm. In this
way, the United States would come to be accepted as a more viable model
than the fascinating Germanic model, which at that time was a well-oiled
and apparently unbeatable war machine” (23). 132
Vargas's speech following the fall of France, while perhaps misinterpreted by the U.S.
intelligence community, nevertheless demonstrates the allure of a powerful and wellorganized Germany with political values not terribly far-removed from Vargas's own
authoritarian tendencies.
In addition, there was the question of the German community in southern Brazil,
including Verissimo's home state of Rio Grande do Sul. Tôta remarks, “The relentless
advance of the Nazis in Western Europe in the first half of the 1940s not only impressed
high levels of the Brazilian government, but also populations of Germanic origin in the
131 ...passou a época dos liberalismos imprevidentes, das demagogias estéreis...Os povos vigorosos aptos à
vida necessitam seguir o rumo de suas aspirações” (27).
132 O germanismo era pois, um outro paradigma, que se apresentava como alternativa à dependência em
relação à Inglaterra e à crescente influência dos Estados Unidos. E, por isso, a República da América do
Norte, por meio do americanismo, teria de suplantar o paradigma germânico. Dessa forma, os Estados
Unidos passariam a ser aceitos como um modelo mais viável do que o fascinante modelo germânico, àquela
altura uma azeitada e aparentemente imbatível máquina de Guerra (23)
117
South of the country who were not necessarily integrated into Brazilian society” (23). 133
The United States was genuinely preoccupied with the possibility of these communities'
forming a “fifth column” that would place Brazil and other Latin American countries
with a German population in the Axis sphere of influence. Popular U.S. journalist John
Gunther's Inside Latin America, published in 1941, shows a fixation on whether or not
different Latin American countries would back the U.S. were it to enter the war. 134 His
chapter on Brazil includes an entire section on “The Germans in Brazil” that examines
German economic and political influence in the country. Gunther points out, “The Nazis
realize the extreme importance of Brazil, and devote tremendous energy to it” (387), and,
“Brazil was, of course, the country where the Germans – until the war – performed their
greatest miracles with barter trade” (387). On the other hand, he also informs his U.S.
readership, “No other country has taken such severe steps against racial Germans. Vargas
reputedly said that if his local Germans make trouble he 'will eat them alive'” (386-387).
Brazil and its relationship with Germany and “Germanism” was at the forefront of U.S.
policy in Latin America, and Erico Verissimo, a young Brazilian intellectual mover and
shaker with an excellent command of English, not to mention one of the most renowned
writers from Rio Grande do Sul (home to both an unnervingly large German colony and
133 O implacável avanço dos nazistas na Europa ocidental na primeira metade da década de 1940
entusiasmou não só o alto escalão do governo brasileiro, mas também as populações de origem germânica
do Sul do país, que não estavam devidamente integradas à sociedade brasileira. (23).
134 Gunther's books was one of many Inside... books that made the journalist famous in the 1930s, 40s and
50s. He was known for writing books in a particularly accessible manner that allowed U.S. readers to
understand global politics. In a Washington Post obituary it claims, “Reviewers of the Inside books credited
Mr. Gunther with a flair for reducing complex situations to the essentials and for communicating complex
ideas by reproducing conversations with people” (19). This style is quite similar to Verissimo's own style in
the Gato Preto books that are the subject of this chapter. Gunther's chapters on Brazil include a detailed
profile of Getúlio Vargas and country profile where, in addition to commenting on possible “Fifth
Columnism,” he comments on the lack of a color line in Brazil and claims, “Brazilians are happy people.
This generalization is of the utmost importance. They are also infinitely charming people” (373).
118
to President Vargas himself), was an obvious candidate for propagating U.S. values and
virtues on the eve of the war.
Antônio Tota's book is one of the best works available for understanding the
intense efforts on the part of the U.S. government to win over Brazil and the rest of Latin
America for the Allies. 135 He describes in great detail the machinations on the part of
Nelson Rockefeller, Sumner Welles and Waldo Frank that led to the creation of the
OCIAA (Office for the Coordination of Inter-American Affairs) in August of 1940. This
group's mission was the dissemination of information that cultivated positive impressions
of the United States in Latin America. While Verissimo's first invitation to the U.S. came
from the State Department, it was similar to other visits that the OCIAA facilitated during
the years of the Second World War. Tota describes such tours by Brazilian cultural
figures like Carmen Miranda, Heitor Villa-Lobos and Cândido Portinari to propagate
Brazilian culture in the United States, and also details the importance of U.S. cultural
products like cinema, radio and print media in U.S. efforts to make Brazilians proAmerican. Curiously, Tota does not discuss Verissimo's own trip to the United States in
great detail, in fact only mentioning his discussion of the power of cinema as a tool for
U.S. cultural domination. “Érico had understood the force of cinema and predicted the
dominance of the United States thanks to its invention of a tradition” (132). 136 Tota has
his own conclusions about the true motives for this push for cultural exchange between
135 Tota's book often takes a rightfully cynical stance on the motives for U.S. overtures, but it is a
compelling recounting of a particularly rich time in the story of U.S.-Brazil relations. Tota examines the
biographies of important figures in this diplomatic game like David Rockefeller, Sumner Welles and
especially Waldo Frank, and he places these figures and their actions regarding Brazil in a larger context of
the struggle between the U.S. and Europe as a cultural model for Brazil. It should be essential reading for
anybody who is interested in this era in Brazil-U.S. relations.
136 Érico tinha compreendido a força do cinema e previa o domínio dos Estados Unidos graças à invenção
de uma tradição (132).
119
the United States and Brazil, a phenomenon that he sees as largely one-sided and focused
on selling Brazilians a positive image of a strong, prosperous and fair United States that
had Brazil and Latin America's best interests in mind in the global sphere in order to
benefit U.S. companies. 137 Perhaps Verissimo's enthusiasm for the United States
precluded Tota from a deeper analysis in O imperialismo sedutor.
Despite these lapses, there is much that resonates in Tota's view of the activity of
the OCIAA and the Good Neighbor Policy, particularly when one recalls the rapidity
with which the United States withdrew from Latin America after the end of the Second
World War. Tota sums this up poignantly, “It was the end of the Good Neighbor Policy,
of the United States' forced sympathy for Latin America and its exotic culture” (127), and
goes on to cite lyrics from a song attributed to Noel Coward called “Sigh No More,” that
claim South America “couldn't be more boring if it tried” (207). The urgency of U.S.
intimations with Brazil and the haste to abandon that intimacy left behind strained
relations between the two countries, which will be explored in greater detail in the next
chapter.
It would be oversimplification to deny a Brazilian confrontation with the
intensified U.S. influence on Brazil during the Good Neighbor Policy. Even Tota
remarks:
Our Americanization obviously did not happen passively. There was
interaction between Brazilian and American cultures. The 'culture shock'
137 Tota most succinctly makes this conclusion at the end of the book, when he claims, “Means of
communication, at least in the period studied, were used pedagogically to americanize Brazil. There was a
project of americanization, that is, of deliberate and planned actions in order to achieve an objective. The
existence of this project does not exclude the process of americanization guided by market forces. On the
contrary, there is evidence of the imbrication of the two processes” (191). “Os meios de comunicação, pelo
menos no período estudado, foram usados pedagogicamente para americanizar o Brasil. Houve um projeto
de americanização, quer dizer, ações deliberadas e planejadas visando a um objetivo. A existência desse
projeto não exclui o processo de americanização conduzido pelas forças do mercado. Ao contrário, há
evidências da imbricação dos dois processos” (191).
120
provoked by the strong presence of North American means of
communication did not destroy our culture, but certainly did end up
producing new forms of cultural manifestation” (191). 138
While Verissimo may have come across as a cheerleader for the United States at times,
his Gato Preto books are not pure State Department propaganda. Verissimo was
impressed by the United States but suffused his texts with a Brazilian subjectivity. He
also, as has been pointed out by Nelson Vieira, refused to dehumanize the people he
encountered in the United States or reiterate certain stereotypes and prejudices that were
common in Brazilian discourse of the United States. While his texts may not have passed
muster for the “patrulhas ideológicas” on the left, they are just as much a hybrid product
as the irreverent musical performances that Tota includes in his concluding discussion, or
later manifestations of “cannibalism” of U.S. culture like the Tropicália, Black Rio and
Funk Carioca musical movements. The remainder of this chapter will analyze the literary
techniques that Verissimo employed to emphasize the Brazilian subjectivity of his own
narrative voice and create sympathetic, fictionalized American characters, and
demonstrate how these techniques allowed to create texts that by their very nature
achieve a certain upset of the North/South, civilized/savage order that is often present in
travel narrative. It will conclude with a discussion of Verissimo's actual analysis of U.S.
culture and society, including the varied critiques that he gives to a society that he may
have appeared to support blindly.
The Black Cat's Resonance
138 Nossa americanização não se deu, obviamente, de forma passiva. Houve uma interação entre a cultura
americana e a brasileira. O “choque cultural” provocado pela forte presença de meios de comunicação
norte-americanos não destruiu nossa cultura, mas, por certo, acabou produzindo novas formas de
manifestação cultural (191).
121
What gave Verissimo's work such a different feeling from the works of earlier
Brazilian writers documenting the United States? From where does this notable concern
with North Americans as people stem? While Freyre and Lobato both provide a
panoramic and oftentimes sympathetic view of the United States, their works do not
capture the lives of members of different segments of U.S. society as effectively. It would
be overly simplistic to explain away Verissimo's own clear interest in the human element
of U.S. society as the result of pro-Americanism notable in the writer's work. It is true
that Verissimo admired the United States, and that he had little interest or sympathy in
the communism that was so popular among some other members of the Brazilian
intellectual elite. Many even claimed that Verissimo was a U.S. agent (Smith 172). At the
same time, there are many passages of the Gato Preto books and later works of fiction
like O senhor embaixador and O prisioneiro that are highly critical of the United States.
His dialogue between author and reader that serves as an epilogue to the first Gato Preto
in fact makes a point to give voice to many common Brazilian perceptions and criticisms
of the United States.
In his article on the “kaleidoscopic” America that Verissimo presents in the Gato
Preto books, Nelson Vieira comments, “Declaring himself to be non-partisan, Erico
Verissimo had the courage to leave himself vulnerable to political attacks that did not
accept a pluralist, and he was a pluralist avant la lettre” (184). 139 He specifies that in this
context, “Therefore, traveling to the zone of the supposed ideological enemy to the north,
while also being monitored by the far left media, was a challenge on the part of
Verissimo to these patrulhas that considered themselves the only voices of a just social
139 Declarando-se não partidário, Erico Verissimo teve a coragem de se deixar ser alvo de ataques
politicos que não admitiam um pluralista e ele era um pluralista avant la lettre” (184).
122
order” (185).
140
That Verissimo had travelled to the United States under the invitation of
the Department of State would have put him under the suspicion of members of the left
who held suspicious attitudes of the United States. Verissimo's future diplomatic career
with the OAS must have sealed this image of a man who was colluding with the enemy.
A 1953 letter from poet Pablo Neruda to Verissimo, in which he declines to participate in
an anthology of Latin American poetry that the group was organizing is illustrative of the
attitudes of a large portion of the Latin American intelligentsia:
I ask you not to include any of my works in your publication. For the
peoples of Latin America, and particularly the Chilean people, the
institution for which you work represents an instrument of the policy of
the State Department in Washington D.C.
I could not explain to my people my collaboration with those who
coldly extort our economy, plan repression, destroy freedom on the
continent, enslave Puerto Rico, persecute Paul Robeson, exile Chaplin, the
creator of North American cinema, and murder the Rosenbergs.
Best regards,
Pablo Neruda. (Neruda) 141
Verissimo's mere collaboration and cooperation with the United States put him at odds
with many intellectuals. It appeared to many that he had made a devil's bargain, and that
his connection with the OAS contaminated his work ideologically. While his politics may
have been at odds with many others in Brazil and the rest of Latin America, Verissimo's
140
Então, viajar à zona do suposto inimigo ideológico do norte, e simultaneamente ser vigiado pela
mídia da extrema-esquerda, era um desafio da parte de Verissimo a essas patrulhas que se consideravam as
vozes da única ordem social igualitária (185)
141
Le ruego a Ud. no incluir ninguna de mis obras en tal publicación.
Para los pueblos latino-americanos y en especial para el pueblo chileno, la institución en que Ud. Trabaja
representa un instrumento de la política del Departamento del Estado en Washington. Yo no podría explicar
a mi pueblo mi colaboración con los que friamente extorsionan nuestra economía, planean la represión,
destruyen la libertad en la continente, esclavizan a Puerto Rico, persiguen a Paul Robeson, destierran a
Chaplin, creador del cine norteamericano, y asesinan esposos Rosenberg.
Se despide de Ud. atentamente,
Pablo Neruda.
123
proximity to the United States strengthened his knowledge of the country and helped to
spawn some of the most in depth Brazilian texts that deal with that nation.
Vieira describes the Gato Preto books as, “a realistic and cordial image of the
United States, an image that, in our opinion, represented an ideological shift in that it was
a more diversified and sensible vision” (185). 142This view of the United States may well
have been a conscious response to the dominant intellectual discourses of the day.
Verissimo was in many ways an outlier of the Brazilian intellectual elite during his
lifetime. Verissimo was not interested in merely duplicating the discourses of a
community to which he felt peripherally attached, both as a non-traditional intellectual
and a gaúcho. Rather he tried to create a new discourse on the United States for the
Brazilian public, one that attempted to find a balance between an unquestioning praise
and imitation of the “American way of life” and a total repudiation of all things relating
to the United States. During the years of the Second World War and the increased
prominence of the United States on the Brazilian scene that accompanied the Good
Neighbor Policy, Verissimo's approach was very well-received. When Gato preto em
campo de neve was first published in November of 1941, it managed to sell between
15,000 and 20,000 copies by the end of the year, a record in the Brazilian publishing
industry (Smith 152). 143The book's success, along with the polemics that arose from
Verissimo's discussion and continued scholarly debate of his work's differences from
142 Vieira's original quotation. “...uma imagem realista e cordial dos Estados Unidos, imagem que, a nosso
ver, representou uma mudança ideológica no sentido de uma visão mais diversificada e sensata” (CPS
185).Vieira does see a strong parallel between Verissimo's work and Adolfo Caminha's No paiz dos
yankees.
143 Richard Cándida Smith sources these numbers from both a review of an edited version of Gato Preto
prepared for American students of Portuguese in Hispania and numbers from Editora Globo.
124
other discourses on the United States, illustrates to what degree his book's portrayal of the
United States stood out from other works discussed in this thesis.
An explanation for these differences may stem from Verissimo's conception of
himself as a writer. While Eduardo Prado, Monteiro Lobato and Gilberto Freyre may
have seen themselves more as great minds with a mission to define Brazil and change
both Brazilian attitudes and Brazilian policies, Verissimo had a more subtle approach to
the question of national identity. The author did not posit himself as a major voice for
change in Brazil, though he did have his own strong ideas about the best directions that
his homeland could take. He saw himself more as a writer by trade, rather than a member
of an intellectual elite, a self-identification perhaps related to his own intellectual
upbringing away from the academy. This comes through in his own discussions of
himself and his intellectual autobiography in the Sólo de clarineta memoirs, and also in
an interesting comment that Richard Cándida Smith highlights in his own work:
It is very difficult to be a professional writer. If you want to make a living
from your writing you must publish at least one book per year. But you
cannot do that without endangering the very quality of your books. Take
my case, for instance. I mean my novels. I am able to turn out a novel each
year. I am sure they may be very readable novels. (156).
In another note included by Smith in his article, Verissimo explicitly says, “I don't
believe in masterpieces” (156).
144
Rather than a participant in an intellectual elite
concerned with maintenance and expansion an exclusive and hermetic Brazilian culture,
Verissimo saw himself as a professional writer who was concerned with selling books.
144 A particularly amusing statement on the part of Verissimo regarding his view of writing as a profession
comes from his memoir Solo de Clarineta, where he comments: In the first years it was almost possible for
us to determine the source of money for different household purchases. The bookcase? Caminhos
Cruzados. The bedroom furniture? Olhai os Lºirios do Campo. The dining room carpet? Gato Preto em
Campo de Neve. And so on. (SC1 278). Nos primeiros anos era-nos até possível determinar a fonte do
dinheiro com que comprávamos essas coisas. A estante de livros? Caminhos Cruzados. A mobília do
quarto de dormir? Olhai os Lírios do Campo. O tapete da sala de jantar? Gato Preto em Campo de Neve. E
assim por diante. (278)
125
Smith's article demonstrates this through ample discussion of Verissimo's own work for
Editora Globo and of his constant struggle to ensure that his works would be published
and disseminated in the United States. Smith even posits that Verissimo's epic, O tempo e
o vento, widely considered his masterpiece, was created in response to suggestions and
demands from the U.S. publishing industry: “Macmillan editors strongly encouraged him
in his plans to write a historical novel covering the settlement and development of Brazil,
assuring him that readers worldwide loved ambitious sagas” (170). Smith postulates that
much of the impetus for Verissimo's less ideological approach to the United States can be
linked to his career goals. Rather than seeing an adversary or competitor in the United
States, Verissimo saw a market, and one which celebrated the type of “self-made man” he
perceived himself to be.
If this is the case, it is interesting to note this affinity was mutual, as there was
something about Verissimo that appealed to the Department of State and to Macmillan.
He came across as preeminently suited to the work of cultural mediation between the two
countries. Smith starts his own article with a discussion of the goals that U.S. cultural
diplomacy had for its work in Latin America: “In a memo written in January 1939, Pattee
argued that the single most important objective was to bring Latin American intellectuals
to the United States and help them develop long-term personal friendships and
institutional connections” (151). This type of diplomacy would have the twofold benefit
of creating sympathies in intellectual sectors of Latin American society and also of
helping U.S. readers to understand Latin America on Latin terms, rather than through the
stereotypes most commonly propagated by Hollywood and U.S. journalists and travel
writers (Smith 151). Pattee's strategy, at least in its first goal, succeeded resoundingly in
126
the case of Verissimo. Verissimo cemented an affinity towards the United States that he
had developed as a youth, and through his affiliations with universities, specific writers
and Macmillan, he could serve as a voice for Brazil to the broader American public.
Furthermore, his daughter's marriage to a North American ensured that he would
continue to visit and cultivate affective connections to the United States.
As stated before, his Gato Preto books were resounding successes in Brazil,
influencing people's perceptions of the United States and the author even after his death.
A letter written to Mafalda, Verissimo's widow, in 1978, by a young student named
Mônica Lette Lopes documents Verissimo's inspirational hold on her own life and the
lives of other young Brazilians interested in the United States, “Now I'm preparing to be
something of a 'Gata preta em campo de neve.' I'm going to the U.S.A. on scholarship in
July” (Lopes). 145 It is also undeniable that Verissimo was a rare Brazilian and even Latin
American voice in the U.S. publishing industry before el boom. Smith points out that
Verissimo was the only Latin American author to have more than two titles published in
the U.S. between 1940 and 1967 (163). While figures like Prado, Freyre and Lobato had
developed ideas about relations between Brazil and the United States that participated in
a master narrative of Brazilian identity, Verissimo used his indomitable work ethic and
open-mindedness to develop more concrete gains in the realm of U.S.-Brazil relations
and cross cultural education and understanding. He was able to achieve these goals
through the publication of the Gato Preto books, through hundreds of lectures on Brazil
given throughout the United States, through his serious diplomatic work at the PanAmerican union, and through a publishing career in which he, like Lobato, successfully
145 Agora, eu me preparo para ser um pouco 'Gata preta em campo de neve'. É que eu vou para os E.U.A.
com uma bolsa de estudos, em julho (Lopes).
127
disseminated English-language literature in Brazil and, bettering Lobato, managed to sell
his Brazilian literature in the United States. His own specific narrative approach lent an
emotional aspect to his travelogues and highlighted his Brazilian subjectivity, without
weakening his efforts to build understanding of the United States.
The Importance of Character(s): The Author/Traveler as Character.
Among the most salient of Verissimo's travel narrative techniques is the
characterization that appears throughout both Gato Preto books. While these two books
are, on the surface, descriptive works, they are also both filled with characters that lend a
sense of emotional realism to the text. The presence of these varied characters is an
element that sets them apart from the work of Caminha, Prado, Freyre or Lobato. While
Lobato does include his famous English interlocutor, Mr. Slang, as a character in his own
discussion of the United States, he is only one of two primary characters in América, the
other being the narrator himself. The Gato Preto books, on the other hand, are brimming
with characters from start to finish. There are ambitious shoe shine boys, students from
all over the country and around the world, European refugees, Hollywood big shots like
Walt Disney and Bette Davis, literary stars like Thomas Mann, Thornton Wilder and
Pearl Buck, and individuals and families who serve to symbolize broad sectors of society
like Miss T and the Braccolinos. There are even resurrections of long dead historical
figures like Paul Revere not to mention the personification of cities themselves like
Boston and Chicago. Verissimo is very conscious of the characterization that he employs
in his books, mentioning it in the author's note that prefaces the first book. He is
concerned more with capturing “souls,” a concept that he himself introduces in a
128
conversation with a woman at a cocktail party in New York in that same text, than with
portraying bare facts or analyzing social phenomena.
This self-definition as a “caçador de almas” is explored at length by Nelson
Vieira who even incorporates it into the title of his article:
Verissimo appropriates various techniques, such as the exchange of
opposing opinions in the mouths of people/reflectors that he encounters, or
through the invention of characters who contribute dialogues in which
there is a debate of key themes. In general his travel narratives always
manifest various perspectives on a theme or topic, as if the author had
travelled accompanied by acquaintances with ideas or opinions contrary to
his own. (199-200) 146
These characters provide an essential “other” voice to the narratives, thus furthering
Verissimo’s pluralistic goals in writing. Furthermore, the author's transformation of
people that he meets into characters creates a strong sense of empathy in the reader,
putting a very human face on what was often viewed as an inhuman society by Brazilian
intellectuals 147. In addition to the various characters Verissimo encounters on his journey,
there is the ever important character of the narrator himself. Verissimo employs a variety
of techniques to transform himself into a character in these two travelogues. The narrator
of these books may be just as much a fictional characterization as others, but he is
nevertheless an engaging and dynamic aspect of the books, an element that grows and
changes through his observations, his feeling of alienation in a new environment, and his
exchanges with the other characters with whom he has populated his text.
146 Verissimo se apropria de várias técnicas, como o intercâmbio de opiniões opostas na boca de
pessoas/refletores que encontra, ou a invenção de personagens que contribuem para diálogos em que há
debates de temas. Em geral as suas narrativas de viagem sempre manifestam várias perspectivas sobre um
tema ou um assunto, como se o autor tivesse viajado acompanhado de conhecidos com idéias ou opiniões
contrárias às suas. (199-200).
147 As is discussed in Prado. Also see Vieira.
129
The content of the opening sections of the two books demonstrates Verissimo's
fixation on characterization as a way of developing a travel narrative that illuminates both
the United States and the narrator's changing worldview for his reading public. Both
books begin with descriptions of Verissimo's journey to the United States. Gato preto em
campo de neve starts with a lengthy, glamorous description of the voyage from Rio de
Janeiro to New York, whereas A volta do gato preto has a shorter but more dramatic
description of the flight into Miami (in fact a terrible vision of a worst case scenario for
said flight). Renata Wasserman claims that this type of introduction to a travel narrative
is one that has a long tradition in the genre of travel writing: “This opening comes from
the established travel narrative genre, which forcedly includes danger to the traveller,
since the rest of book, whose tone ends up being very different, does not provide much
motive [for danger]” (214). 148 This may be a common trope to travel narrative, but
Verissimo's immediate fixation on those who travel with him stands out. In the same
section where he describes his imagined plane crash at the start of A volta... he describes
the corpses of the varied other passengers on his plane: The Hindu Princess, the fat
Business Man, the Flight Attendant, the Blonde American, the General, all of them are
united in the fantasized undersea death sure to follow the fearful thunderstorm that
welcomes his plane to Miami. As he launches into this reverie, which ends with an
intriguing dialogue with a deceased former teacher, he admits that he is poaching and
even forging the identities of these co-passengers for the better development of his own
narrative:
In the back of the plane the Hindu Princess smiles enigmatically. She
embarked in Dutch Guiana, has a dark tan color and a face like an Oriental
148 Essa abertura é do gênero estabelecido do relato de viagem, que inclui, por força, o perigo ao viajante,
embora o resto do livro, cuja finalidade acaba sendo outra, não lhe dê mais azo (CPS 214).
130
idol, and is dressed all in white with a vaporous veil flowing down her
shoulders. Perhaps she is neither a noble nor was born in India, but it's
clear that I will not lose this rare opportunity to include a Hindu Princess
in my story. (12) 149
Through this brief discussion Verissimo admits that he fictionalizes the stories of his
quarry. This woman may have been a Surinamese student or diplomat, a performer or
politician, or merely somebody visiting family or trying to migrate to the United States.
But a Hindu Princess can occupy a far more interesting role in the narrator's story, adding
a certain exotic intrigue and danger, not to mention lending an air of exotic romanticism
to the already poetic image of moribund travelers beneath the Caribbean, beginning to
fuse with sea stars, algae and jellyfish.
The first Gato Preto's narration of the voyage to the United States lacks as
romantic and macabre an episode as Verissimo's thankfully erroneous prediction of doom
in the sequel. It does, however, incorporate a similarly fanciful tone when it comes to his
cinematic imagining of the other passengers on his ship.
I think vaguely of a novella [perhaps radio drama] that takes place on an
ocean liner. On this very ship, for example. The drama of the refugees. A
millionaire stuck in some kind of financial complication. A Gestapo agent.
A faded ballerina. A criminal fleeing from justice. A Japanese spy. An
internationally renowned crook...The same old stories. (19). 150
Many of the sections of this chapter of the narrative are entitled merely by the names or
imagined titles of the varied other passengers. We have the Rabbi, The Gallant Mr.
Greenwood, The Ex-Champion, Mr. Polaczek, Greta Garbo, The Sad-Eyed Polish
149 No fundo do avião a Princesa Hindu sorri engimàticamente. Embarcou na Guiana Holandesa, é dum
moreno bronzeado, tem uma face de ídolo oriental e está toda vestida de branco, com um vaporoso véu a
escorrer-lhe pelos ombros. Talvez não seja nobre nem tenha nascido na Índia, mas está claro que não vou
perder esta rara oportunidade de meter uma princesa hindu na minha história (12).
150 Penso vagamente numa novela cuja ação se passa num vapor. Neste, por exemplo. O drama dos
refugiados. Um milionário metido em qualquer complicação financeira. Um agente da Gestapo. Uma
bailarina decadente. Um criminoso a fugir da justiça. Um espião japonês. Um scroc internacional...As
histórias de sempre (19).
131
Woman, The Philosopher, The Wandering Venezuelan and The Somber Humorist.
Though not as explicitly as he does in the sequel, Verissimo admits to fictionalizing the
characterizations of some of his fellow travellers. In the sketch entitled “Retrato Errado”
he describes a passenger whom he imagines to be a businessman obsessed with profit. He
comments, “He lives –I fantasize – looking to scam his next victim, even when it comes
to transactions of the sentimental kind. I bet he's never made an honest deal in his whole
life and that he's incapable of any artistic sentiment” (GP 23). 151 When he sees that this
imagined figure is reading L' Imitation de Christ his fantasy shatters, “So much for trying
to get inside of souls!,” he exclaims (23). 152 The Gallant Mr. Greenwood, who comes
across as an effeminate homosexual while on deck, appears to be quite a ladies' man in
his suit and tie later in the evening. There is a near constant warning to the reader of the
dangers of false first impressions in these varied character sketches at the start of the
book. In addition to creating a glamorous ambience of cosmopolitanism, these sketches
serve to indicate to readers that they should abandon their prejudices as they enter into
this journey with Verissimo.
Beyond their function of preparing the reader for Verissimo's diffuse, celebratory
exploration of the United States, these chapters are noteworthy for the portrait that they
paint of various elements of modern society traveling together in the “same boat.”This is
an image that harkens to late medieval and Renaissance uses of the Ship of Fools and in a
specifically Lusophone context, to Gil Vicente's Autos da Barca and their examination of
society in microcosm. As a travel writer, Verissimo’s project with the United States is
151 Vive---fantasio eu---procurando ludibriar o próximo, mesmo quando se trata de transações de ordem
sentimental. Estou a apostar como nunca fez um negócio honesto em tôda a sua vida e como é incapaz de
qualquer emoção artística (23).
152 E vá a gente querer penetrar as almas! (23).
132
similar in its attempt to distill an immense society into its essence. The Gato Preto books
themselves can be observed as Barcas, with each volume carrying a variety of
passengers, some based on specific people and others metonymically representing broad
swathes of society, all serving to educate the Brazilian public about U.S. society as well
as their own identity. Unlike the Barcas, the Gato Preto books also dedicate much space
the to characterization of the narrator himself, the captain of these ships of fools.
Verissimo, in spite of his author's note's claims to objective observation and
truthful portrayal, creates a narrator who highlights his own unreliability. This is not to
say that he is a liar, but rather that the narrator of the Gato Preto books is a figure that
goes beyond the realm of any mere real-world observer. He is a character as much as any
of the other characters that pepper the text, one that has a back story that is slowly
revealed, and one whose reliability is often questioned. Verissimo's books convey little of
the gravitas a reader would expect from an intellectual who has been chosen as a cultural
ambassador to mediate between the two largest countries in the Western Hemisphere.
The above-mentioned excerpts where he questions his own ability to draw judgments
about his fellow passengers give a taste of this very human fallibility.
The centrality of the humanity and identity of the narrator are fundamental themes
in many works of travel narrative. In The Mind of the Traveler, Eric J. Leeds posits that
travel is a universal practice, “Travel is the paradigmatic 'experience,' the model of a
direct and genuine experience, which transforms the person having it” (5). He also
comments, “Travel is as familiar as the experience of the body, the wind, the earth, and
this is why at all times and in all places it is a source of reference, a ground of symbols
and metaphors, a resource of signification” (4). The idea that travel is such a broad
133
human experience, albeit one that often seems off limits financially, politically or
psychologically to many people, makes travel literature so appealing to so many.
Through the description of the journey, the reader is able to observe change or growth
within the author, and vicariously share the “paradigmatic experience.” The traveler is as
essential a part of the travel book as the lands and peoples that he or she is describing.
The relationship that develops between the reader and the traveler is an important
dynamic in a work of travel literature, and one which mirrors the traveler's own
observation and relationship with people in the examined foreign land. In his essay “The
Journey and Its Narratives,” Tzvetan Todorov comments on this aspect of travel writing:
I think therefore that, in addition to the first relation of alterity---the one
that exists between narrator and the object of his narrative---there exists
another, less obvious no doubt, between reader and narrator, who must not
share the same ideological framework. The narrator's discovery of the
other, his object, is repeated in miniature by the reader in relation to the
narrator himself; the process of reading imitates to a certain extent the
content of the narrative: it is a journey within the book. (68)
Erico Verissimo is able to harness this sense of alterity between the reader and himself
throughout both of his Gato Preto books. The obvious characterization that he performs
on himself, transforming his own narrative position into one which differs little from the
variety of other “characters” that inhabit his journeys, is a technique which firmly
establishes a sense of alterity between reader and author/narrator. Verissimo's inclusion
of Malazarte, a younger version of himself that serves as an interlocutor in the first Gato
Preto book, is the clearest illustration of this technique.
The name Malazarte creates another link between Verissimo's travel narrative and
the tradition of medieval and renaissance literature. Pedro Malasartes is a character in
Portuguese and Brazilian folklore who represents the malandro, a likeable scoundrel with
134
an important cultural role. Gláucia Buratto Rodrigues de Mello cites Câmara Cascudo's
dictionary of Brazilian folklore, where Pedro Malasartes is described as, “an example of
the invincible con man, astute, cynical, an inexhaustible source of tricks and shortcuts,
remorseless and without scruples” (24). 153Verissimo's Malazarte, an interlocutor who
went by the name of Chico in the original manuscript of his travelogue, is indeed a
trickster figure, often adding sarcastic asides when Verissimo the Narrator has to face
social or bureaucratic frustrations. He is, nevertheless, a character that pulls the reader
closer to the interior of the author, creating an affective connection and building a deeper
understanding of this Brazilian's responses to a potentially alienating journey. Malazarte
first appears at the very end of the first chapter of the first book, commenting teasingly,
“Is this your first voyage, Dr. Sindbad?” (10) 154. The results of this friendly interjection
lead to dialogue that fills the second chapter of the book, tellingly entitled “Myself and
the Other”. The arrival of Malazarte adds an ominously hilarious touch to the travelogue.
I turn around. It's strange...I feel like I am in front of a mirror, since the
man that just directed his words at me looks alarmingly like myself.
Certainly the heat put me to sleep and this is only a dream.
–Don't you know me?
It's startling! I hear my own voice...see my own horrendous bushy
eyebrows, my tan face, my broad and shiny nose...It just happens that this
guy is much younger than me.
–I stayed where you left me fifteen years ago... – he continues. Do you
remember? You decided to get older, get some common sense, have a
career, write books, and worst of all, publish them...(10) 155
153 In Buratto's article: “...exemplo de burlão invencível, astucioso, cínico, inesgotável de expedientes e
enganos, sem escrúpulos e sem remorsos” (24)
154 É a sua primeira viagem, dr. Sindbad? (10).
155 Volto-me. É estranho...Julgo estar na frente de um espelho, pois o homem que acaba de me dirigir a
palavra se parece de maneira alarmante comigo mesmo. De certo o calor me fez dormir e isto é apenas um
sonho.
---Não me conhece?
É espantoso! Ouço a minha própria voz....vejo as minhas horrendas sobrancelhas cerradas e híspidas, a cara
morena, o nariz largo e lustroso...Acontece apenas que êste sujeito é muito mais moço que eu.
135
The reader has met the young Verissimo, and in the process has expanded his or her
knowledge of the narrator. As the chapter continues, a number of humorous exchanges
continue to open this window onto Verissimo's past, helping the reader to further identify
with the author. When the grown up Verissimo has to order orangeade due to complaints
about his liver, Malazarte orders a whisky and soda in English. Verissimo the Narrator
then goes on, “Your English is frightful”, to which Malazarte responds, “But as
compensation my health is excellent” (11). 156 The reader sees the birth of a dynamic that
adds a comic air to the travelogue, one which keeps Verissimo from getting too serious
about his task. Readers can relate to the narrator's own ambivalence about his aging and
becoming more practical. At the same time, we also can see the ways in which the
narrator himself is a mutable figure, not merely a monolithic expert on the United States
and its ways. Verissimo emphasizes this when he and Malazarte have the following
conversation:
–You know something? – I whisper to him – I've been thinking about
looking for you for awhile now.
–And why didn't you?
–You know...We get afraid of meeting our old friends. Sometimes they
change...
–I already told you that I'm the same. You're the one who's changed.
(10) 157
---Fiquei onde você me deixou há quinze anos passados...---prossegue êle. Lembra-se? V. Excia, resolveu
envelhecer, ficar sisudo, fazer carreira, escrever livros, e o que é pior, publicá-los...(10).
156 ---Whisky and soda please!
---O seu inglês é pavoroso---vingo-me.
---Mas em compensação minha saúde é ótima. (10)
157 ---Sabe duma coisa?---sussurro-lhe---Há muito que eu andava pensando em procurá-lo...
---E porque não procurou?
---Ora, você sabe...A gente tem mêdo de reencontrar os velhos amigos. Às vezes eles mudam...
---Já lhe disse que sou o mesmo. Quem mudou foi você. (10)
136
The reader is now clear that Verissimo the Narrator is a dynamic figure whose views will
not remain static. We will get our static point of view from the caricatured youthful
Malazarte while the narrator is intent on growing and changing throughout the text. He
also will, as would please Todorov, claim his alterity by showing how his mentality
differs from that of his reading public. He does not wish to allow youthful
oversimplifications and prejudices to shadow his own impressions of the United States
much as he refuses to allow his text to duplicate standard Brazilian discourses around the
United States.
Malazarte does more than merely draw Verissimo's veracity as a narrator into
question and facilitate a narrative structure. Nelson Vieira describes Malazarte:
“..romantic, playful and adventurous who from the start of the journey provides the writer
with a different perspective, another reflector among many, heralding a double vision, a
trick used by many travel writers who wanted to contrast observations and attitudes or
escape unilateralism” (194). 158 He appears throughout his first journey in the United
States as a sounding board, as comic relief, and many times as a reality check for
Verissimo the Narrator. Where Verissimo the Narrator can be become lost in his
observations and his goal of explaining the United States to his Brazilian readers,
Malazarte often reminds us of the author's humanity and lets him react in ways a cultural
diplomat would never be allowed, thus enabling the reader to relish the irreverence.
When the author arrives in Washington D.C. on a grey December day, he meditates on
these expectations. “We pass through life making comparisons. Present with past.
Dreams with reality. Our desires with destiny's designs. The result of these confrontations
158 …românico, travesso e aventureiro que desde o início da viagem fornece ao escritor uma perspectiva
diferente, outro refletor entre vários, anunciando uma dupla visão, truque usado por muitos escritores de
livros de viagem que desejavam contrastar observações e atitudes ou escapar à unilateralidade (194).
137
is not always comforting. Reality has short reins; those of fantasy go on to infinity” (GP
43).
159
Malazarte seems disappointed with the wintry Washington D.C. that he sees
before him. He had always imagined the city in the spring sunlight festooned with cherry
blossoms. Verissimo the Narrator consoles his younger self, commenting, “Patience. It's
all a question of the sky, the light and the state of your spirit. After all, aren't we here on a
journey of goodwill?” (44).
160
Verissimo's younger avatar, as already illustrated in his exchanges with The
Narrator upon their shipboard meeting, has a quick sense of humor, a gift that helps
Verissimo the Narrator channel possible frustrations with the niceties of his role as a
goodwill ambassador. When a young, officious anthropologist interviews him and asks
him if he agrees with another Brazilian she had interviewed that North Americans lack a
soul, Verissimo the Narrator responds, “Well...I just arrived 10 days ago Miss, but I
would like to believe that my compatriot was exaggerating” (GP 92) 161, while Malazarte
gives the sardonic aside, “Take the anthropologist for example...She must have a soul, but
it’s the cold and efficient soul of an archive” (GP 92). Several other passages where
Malazarte inspires Verissimo the Narrator to give snappy sarcastic responses at the wrong
times will be analyzed in the next section of this chapter.
Another function for Malazarte is to provide a necessary sense of awe in the
narrative. Verissimo the Narrator is most impressed by the culture, education and
159 A gente passa a vida comparando. O presente com o passado. O sonho com a realidade. Os nossos
desejos com os desígnios do destino. O resultado dêsses confrontos nem sempre é consolador. As rédeas da
realidade são curtas: as da fantasia se espicham no infinito. (43)
160 Paciência. Tudo é uma questão de céu, de luz e de estado de espírito. De resto, não estamos aqui numa
viagem de boa vontade (44)
161 Ora...eu cheguei apenas há dez dias, miss, mas quero crer que a minha compatriota tenha exagerado...
–Tome a antropóloga, por exemplo...Ela deve ter alma, sim, mas é uma alma fria e eficiente de arquivo.
(92)
138
standard of living the United States, choosing to focus on the human aspect, maintaining
his identity as a “caçador de almas.” Malazarte, on the other hand, allows himself to get
lost in the majesty of the United States with greater ease, and at times demands that
Verissimo the Narrator let loose for a moment. In the chapter entitled “A cidade
imperial,” where Verissimo describes the physical and human geography of New York
City, he tries to rationalize and wrap his mind around the beam and bulk of the city. At
one point, at the top of the Empire State Building, he quotes Luke 4:7, “If you worship
me, this will all be yours” to Malazarte in jest. Malazarte snaps back, “Stop clowning
around. Shut up and look at this landscape” (123). 162Malazarte, normally the trickster,
reminds Verissimo the Narrator as well as the reader of the genuinely awe-inspiring side
of New York City, a city that in 1940 was without parallel in its modernity. This sense of
youthful wonder mirrors and heightens the reader's own discovery of the United States.
As he continues his tour of New York, he addresses Dr. Topsius, Eça de Queiróz's
fictional tour guide in A relíquia, and advises him, “Take Malazarte's example. There he
goes with fire in his eyes and an open soul, walking in the middle of the multitude that
moves on the Manhattan sidewalks. He wants to possess New York with his five senses.
He hasn't made any premeditated tours” (126). 163Through Malazarte's gaze, Verissimo
the Narrator is able to convey awe to the reader without abandoning his narrative
authority.
162 –Se me adorares, tudo isso será teu.
E o meu demônio familiar murmura:
–Não seja bobo. Cale a boca e olhe a paisagem. (123)
163 Tome o exemplo de Malazarte. Lá vai ele de olhos acesos e alma aberta, a caminhar no meio da
multidão que move nas calçadas de Manhattan. Quer possuir Nova York com os cinco sentidos. Não
premeditou passeios. (126)
139
Another essential dialogic stylistic device in Gato Preto em campo de neve is the
conversation between an anonymous, imagined Brazilian reader and Verissimo at the end
of the book. This is fascinating reading which allows the reader see what the author
considered the dominant Brazilian stereotypes of the United States. This analysis will be
explored in greater depth in the final part of this chapter, but the mere device of this style
of dialogue is a very important one. If readers were unable to see themselves in
Verissimo the Narrator or Malazarte, the anonymous reader that appears at the end of the
book can be yet another stand-in for the Brazilian everyman. Nelson Vieira claims that
these dialogues with other Brazilians allows for a stronger diversity of voices,
“...avoiding formulas or stereotypes that would give a fixed or restricted notion of the
country and its people,” and furthermore create a dominant image of “freedom of
expression and thought,” in the texts (200). 164 The second Gato Preto book contains
several similar devices. While most of A volta do Gato Preto is written as diary entries
detailing the activities of the Verissimos in California, there are also several letters that
Verissimo writes to a friend, Vasco Bruno and to a woman named Fernanda. In addition,
in the letters to Fernanda there are dialogues that are very reminiscent of the longer
dialogue at the end of the first book. They are between Verissimo and an interlocutor that
164 Em geral suas narrativas de viagem sempre manifestam várias persepctivas sobre um tema ou um
assunto, como se o autor tivesse viajado acompanhado de conhecidos com idéias ou opiniões contrárias às
suas. Cita americanos para contradizer idéias fixas...Outras vezes recorre à inclusão de cartas a amigos
como Vasco Bruno, personagem que reaparece no “Diário de São Francisco” na Volta do Gato Preto (p.
154-56). A fim de ampliar os horizontes dos seus leitores, essas narrativas estão repletas de informações,
debates e discussões, enfatizando vários pontos de vista sobre os Estados Unidos e evitando fórmulas ou
estereótipos que dessem uma noção restrita e fixa do país e do povo. Por isso, a imagem prevalecente no
decorrer dessas narrativas é a de liberdade de expressão e pensamento, manifestada na citação de várias
expressões em inglês – “mind your own business,” and “live and let live” (GP, p. 69)...e no famoso diálogo
entre o Autor e o Leitor incluido no final de Gato Preto, onde encontramos um resumo de toda a sua
ideologia cultural e política sobre os Estados Unidos (200).
140
he has named Tobias. Once again, Verissimo is very conscious of his artifice. He
comments in his letter to Fernanda about religion:
You asked me to tell you about the religions of the United States, and I
think that it would be best to do this in a dialogue in which I will try to
divide myself in two. In the end, we need our Dr. Watsons, even when this
is for no serious motive, it at least lets this imaginary fool pose trite
questions in order to provoke sublime or erudite discourses. Let's suppose
that my interlocutor is named Tobias, and lets go to the dialogue. (270) 165
Verissimo is delighted by the efficacy of Tobias as an interlocutor, even commenting in
another letter to Fernanda, “That admirable and patient Tobias looks like he's developed a
taste for these discussions, so here he is again, inviting me for a conversation about
clashes between North and South Americans. Have a seat and listen” (286) 166. These
dialogues afford Verissimo the opportunity to continue on with some the analysis that the
diary style may not have allowed. Furthermore, the multiple levels of artifice here (letters
written to a fictional correspondent that contain dialogues with a fictional interlocutor)
indicate Verissimo's commitment to reminding his readership that it is through these
artifices, through the fracturing of a narrative voice and the suspension of demands for
verisimilitude, that it will be most able to learn about another society.
A volta do gato preto lacks a Malazarte, an alter-ego with whom Verissimo the
Narrator can converse in the moment, and who can allow him to escape from his role as
diplomat and academic. Perhaps because Verissimo had already spent time in the United
States, he felt less of the alienation that necessitated his younger avatar. That said, there
165 Você me pede que lhe fale das religiões dos Estados Unidos, e eu acho melhor fazer isso num diálogo
em que procurarei dividir-me em dois. No fim de contas todos nós precisamos do nosso Dr. Watson, e
quando isso não seja para outra coisa mais séria, será pelo menos para que êsse tolo imaginário faça
perguntas acacianas a fim de provocar nossas dissertações sublimes ou eruditas. Suponhamos que meu
interlocutor se chame Tobias, e vamos ao diálogo (270)
166 Êsse admirável e paciente Tobias parece ter tomado gôsto pelas discussões, pois aqui está novamente a
me convidar para uma conversa em tôrno de confrontos entre norte e sul-americanos. Sente-se fique quieta
e escute. (286)
141
are very important younger interlocutors in the second book in the form of his children.
Verissimo brought his family along with him on his journey in 1943, and their company
creates an automatic interlocutor for many of Verissimo's rambling thoughts on his U.S.
sojourn. His wife, Mariana, herself a fictionalization of his actual wife, Mafalda, is a
particularly important element of this function of the Verissimo family in this book.
When the narrator thinks about Mariana and her own possible reaction to the United
States, she almost comes across as a stand in for Malazarte in the first book, even
displaying his sarcastic sense of humor. He often comments on Mariana's reactions to
aspects of American life. When they have a brief stop in Jacksonville he describes the
poverty of the area around the train station, to which Mariana remarks, “So you mean that
the United States is like...this?” 167, to which he responds, “Wait til we get to
California...Don't forget that you are entering Uncle Sam's house through the back door”
(55). Just a few pages later, during the chapter in which he decries the pernicious
influence of books and films in creating his attitudes about the U.S., he uses Mariana as a
way of explaining his own disappointments and critiques of the United States. He has an
imaginary conversation with an imaginary black man playing “Oh Susannah!”
In my mind the black banjo player jumps up and asks:
–And so what? In your country there's also heat, there are also mosquitos,
prejudices and poverty.
–Mariana is disappointed – I say. –She thought everything in this country
would be touched by glamour. Everything would be aerodynamic, clean,
rich...
–Who's guilty for her thinking like that?
–We writers and painters, who generally don't see how things really are,
but rather how we would want them to be. (63) 168
167–Quer dizer então que os Estados-Unidos são...isto?
–Espero até que chegarmos à California – explico-lhe. –Não te esqueças de que estás entrando na casa de
Tio Sam pela porta dos fundos. (55)
168 Na minha mente o negro do banjo dá um salto e pergunta:
142
Verissimo the Narrator uses Mariana here as a stand in for a Brazilian everywoman. He,
the goodwill ambassador and successful author, is not the one who is disappointed by the
poverty and heat that he has encountered in the American South, it is Mariana.
Furthermore, she is an observer and interpreter who has had her neutrality compromised
by the vast body of information that has been made available to her in reference to the
United States. Much like Malazarte in the first book served as a device to problematize
the idea of a monolithic, omniscient traveler, Mariana reminds the reader they are already
entering into this inter-American encounter with an already developed set of prejudices
and assumptions. Both characters problematize the overall concept of a reliable narrative,
and in doing so further humanize Verissimo the Narrator.
In Verissimo's discussions of his children, Luiz and Clara, (their names
unchanged from reality) we are able to see the quickness with which children are able to
adapt to other cultures and lifestyles. It is through his descriptions of the children that the
reader perhaps is best able to sympathize with the United States, because they illustrate
the possibility of a Brazilian acclimatizing to what seems like such an alien culture. By
the time that they have lived in California for several months, Luiz begins making friends
with North American children, even when they lack a common language. Verissimo
observes, “It's great to see how they both understand each other without speaking the
–And so what? Na tua terra também há calor, mosquitos banhados, preconceitos e miséria.
–Mariana está decepcionada –digo. –Imaginava que tudo neste país fôsse tocado de glamour.
Tudo aerodinâmico, limpo, rico...
–Quem é o culpado de ela pensar assim?
–Nós escritores e pintores, que em geral não vemos as coisas como ela são, mas sim como desjávamos que
fôssem. (63)
143
other's language. They don't need many words” (158). 169 Five months later, Luiz is
already correcting his father's English. “At a given moment Luiz will sometimes correct
my syntax! I can't help but smile and remind myself that this child hadn't even been born
when I was running laps around Bernard Shaw, Aldous Huxley and Edgar Poe...in the
original English” (215). 170 The children develop keen curiosity about their new home.
When Luiz sees an “índio” out of the train window somewhere in New Mexico,
Verissimo the Narrator takes advantage of his curiosity to teach the children about the
history of the American West. The children's curiosity and disbelief and Mariana's wry
humor lighten Verissimo the Narrator's pontification on history. When he describes the
way that the Anasazi stored food in niches in the walls, Mariana comments, “The
precursors of built-in cabinets...” (96), and continues to tease him about his descriptions
of archaic makeup. This chapter ends with a soliloquy from Verissimo in which he
describes his self-imagined role as a “caçador de almas,” who has lacked much of an
interest in the natural wonders of the United States. This passage is a lyrical ode to North
American cities and their inhabitants that ends with the comment, “Will there ever be a
park, a lake, a canyon or a cavern that displays as much beauty as a city as nightfall?”
(100). 171 This type of lyrical reverie is a device that permeates both books, and while it is
beautiful prose, it needs the counterbalance of at times sarcastic, at times curious, and at
times realistic interjections of interlocutors like Malazarte, Mariana and the children.
169 É um gôzo ver como ambos se entendem sem que um possa falar a língua do outro. Não necessitam de
muitas palavras (158).
170 Num dado momento Luiz chega a corrigir a minha sintaxe! Não posso deixar de sorrir, lembrando-me
de que êsse menino não tinha ainda nascido e eu já andava às voltas com Bernard Shaw, Aldous Huxley e
Edgar Poe...no original (215).
171 Haverá parque, lago, canyon, ou caverna que encerre tanta beleza como uma cidade ao anoitecer (100).
144
These interjections ground the texts, highlighting their artificiality and making them more
relatable.
Peopling the Landscape: Verissimo's American Characters.
The passage cited above, where Verissimo voices his preference for a discussion
of humanity instead of a description of physical conditions, concisely summarizes the
content of his travelogues. The characters that he has created, whether they are himself,
his family, or the many other people who he meets over the course of his journey,
dominate his approach. In an essay entitled “Peopling the Landscape,” Mark Salzman,
the author of the travel narrative Iron and Silk describes his own lack of interest in typical
travel narrative, “For me, a sense of place is nothing more than a sense of people.
Whether a landscape is bleak or beautiful, it doesn't mean anything to me until a person
walks into it, and then what interests me is how the person behaves in that place” (83).
He proceeds to tell a series of anecdotes where people's presence in their landscape is the
most important element of that landscape. In one of these, he mentions his father, who
drove the family to Virginia to view a solar eclipse, and spent half of the “totality” of that
eclipse talking to other people and trying to get them to look at it (86). There would have
been no experience for Salzman's father if he had not been able to share it with other
humans, much in the way that his son sees no reason for a landscape without the people.
Verissimo's United States is a similar experience. Though Malazarte and his children may
have torn him away from his contemplation of souls long enough to occasionally soak in
landscapes and meditate on history, his books are most focused on the human element.
The passages referenced at the start of the last section, in which he tries to create
narratives for the varied characters sharing his journey, set the stage for continuing
145
characterizations. In both books, though especially in the first one, Verissimo meets a
surprising number of cultural movers and shakers in the United States. The list includes:
Hendrik Van Loon, Pearl Buck, Thornton Wilder, Robert Nathan, Somerset Maugham,
Thomas Mann, Walt Disney, W.C. Fields, Bette Davis, Charles Boyer, Olivia De
Haviland and Aldous Huxley. He also becomes intimate with his compatriot Heitor VillaLobos, who he finds insufferable, in a particularly humorous part of the second book. The
sheer number of interviews and profiles of prominent North Americans, particularly those
from Hollywood, may have helped propel Gato Preto... to its enormous sales records in
Brazil. Most of these figures have entire chapters dedicated to them, and they make for
fascinating reading. That said, while the inclusion of great minds and celebrities does add
enormous appeal to the books, it is the characterization of the common people the author
encounters that is most touching and perhaps most useful in building a better
understanding of the United States.
In A volta do gato preto Verissimo seems to be most conscious of the way he
transforms people into characters. In addition to the early meditations on his airplane copassengers, we have two sections where he demonstrates his process of characterization.
In a chapter entitled “The Man in Black,” he describes an old man in black seen around
the campus of the University of California. He is intrigued by this man, and gives a
detailed physical description. Eventually he asks students and colleagues for this
character's back story, and is so charmed by this that he comments, “This story may not
be true, but it is interesting. Fearing that someone may refute it, I decide not to ask
anyone else about the man in black” (204).
172
Much like his inclusion of an unverifiable
172 Essa história pode não ser verídica, mas é interessante. Temendo que alguém o desminta, decido a não
perguntar mais nada sôbre o homem de prêto... (204)
146
Hindu Princess, Verissimo refuses to verify the story of the Man in Black because it may
ruin the narrative that he has in mind.
Just a few pages later there is an atypical chapter in which Verissimo goes to a
nightclub in Chinatown with Mariana and describes a possible novel. As Mariana prods
him with questions, he starts to flesh out the Brazilian protagonist, Orlando, who
encounters a Portuguese immigrant in search of his daughter. This long chapter describes
Orlando's trials and tribulations with the immigrant, and his encounter with the seamy
underbelly of San Francisco nightlife, (including a visit to a gay bar called “Finnochio's”)
(VGP 189). While bits of Orlando come from the reality of the seedy Chinatown
nightclub where he currently is, there are other, metaphoric aspects to the new character.
When Verissimo describes Orlando's career as a high school teacher back in Brazil, he
says that he taught students, “a conventional History that he knew to be wrong” (VGP
191). Mariana asks him why he kept teaching that history if he knew it was wrong and
the author poignantly describes the loss of youthful idealism:
Because that's the history that's suitable to the dominant classes. And
because, if he taught the other, secret history, he would lose his position.
Proceeding like that Orlando feels like a traitor. In his youth he had grand
chivalrous ideals, and dreamed of being a sort of Cyrano de Bergerac. He
thought that he would always be willing to sacrifice everything to save his
symbolic crest. He involved himself in political campaigns, wished to save
the country...spoke of freedom, equality and humanity...But when he grew
up...(191). 173
Through Orlando, Verissimo comments at large on the political aspirations of his
generation, aspirations which were cut short by the repression of the Estado Novo. The
173 Porque essa é a história que convém às classes dominantes. E porque, se contasse a outra, a secreta,
perderia seu lugar. Ao proceder assim Orlando sente-se traidor. Na juventude teve grandes ideais
cavalheirescos, sonhou ser uma espécie de Cirano de Bergerac, e achou que sempre estaria disposto a
sacrificar tudo para salvar o seu penacho simbólico. Meteu-se em campanhas políticas, desejou salvar o
país...falou em liberdade, igualdade e humanidade...Mas quando subiu...(191)
147
character enables a fuller understanding of political and social phenomena. While the
characters that Verissimo constructs in his travel narratives may not be fully grounded in
reality, they manage to build discourses around serious issues more effectively than mere
descriptions of these issues could.
While in the second Gato preto book Verissimo gives more metacommentary
about his own artistic process, it is in the first Gato preto book that we encounter some of
the most memorable characters through which Verissimo attempts to humanize the vast,
kaleidoscopic society he encountered. It would be beyond the limits of this chapter to
introduce all of Verissimo's characters, though the description of the first chapters in the
last section does present quite a few. Certain figures do however stand out as eloquent
articulations of aspects of U.S. society. Among these is the enigmatic Miss. T., his tour
guide in Baltimore that is introduced in the chapter entitled “Desconhecida,” “I know
neither where she came from, nor why she came (Was it the plan of Miss Crooks or of
destiny?) What I do know is that Miss T. has the stance of a Valkyrie and is willing to
show me Baltimore” (99). 174She rushes him around the city, speaking rapidly and
displaying a certain world-weariness, with neither the time to read nor to be interested in
her hometown's status as “Monument City” (100-101).
After their whirlwind tour of Baltimore and Annapolis, the two return to her
mansion, where an elderly woman and a young blonde talk with him about his writing
and the occupation of France. He comments:
It's quite odd that I'm here in this perhaps century-old house conversing
with people with whom I had never had the slightest acquaintance and on
whose part had existed a complete ignorance of my existence until mere
174 Não sei de onde veio nem por que veio. (Artes de Miss Crooks ou do destino?) O que sei é que Miss T.
tem o porte duma valquíria e está disposta a me mostrar Baltimore. (99)
148
moments ago. In just a few moments I will take my leave of these people
perhaps forever. And the circle of life will go on turning. And I will never
learn why Miss T., with the Valkyrie's stance, suddenly appeared to show
me Baltimore. I don't even know this family's name. And I am certain that
not one of these three individuals would be able to repeat mine...(103). 175
Miss T., the Valkyrian tour guide, is an evocative character that draws the reader in from
the start. Verissimo paints her as something out of a film noir, an unknown dame racing
her car from Baltimore to Annapolis with her long hair blowing in the wind. She is eager
to show him around her city, but also gives him surprisingly little of herself. Back in her
mansion, he has deep conversations about literature and world events with women who
he will never see again, and about whom he knows nothing. Miss T. is a member of an
American elite who is intent on welcoming Verissimo and showing him her country, but
at the same time avoids getting too close or comfortable. The United States is trying to
show its best to Brazil, but at the same time, does not seem to desire a deeper connection.
This is a theme that will be explored in greater depth with the discussion of Rachel de
Queiroz's short story “Tangerine Girl” in the next chapter. It is through Verissimo's
characterization of the mysterious, accommodating, cold and beautiful Miss T. that he
can articulate this paradoxical perceived lack of interest in Brazil that accompanied the
grand gestures of the Good Neighbor policy.
While many wealthy and renowned dignitaries inhabit Verissimo's United States,
there are also characters who represent the working classes. In his exploration of New
York, he does not limit himself to the museums, theaters and universities. He wanders the
175 É bem estranho que eu esteja aqui nesta casa talvez centenária a conversar com pessoas de que nunca
tive a menor notícia e que por sua vez até há pouco ignoravam por completo a minha existência. Daqui a
alguns momentos eu me despedirei desta gente talvez para sempre. E a roda da vida continuará a girar. E ru
não ficarei sabendo por que foi que Miss. T., da porte de valquíria, surgiu de repente para me mostrar
Baltimore. Mal sei o nome desta família. Tenho a certeza de que nenhuma destas três criaturas seria capaz
de repetir o meu. (103)
149
Lower East Side with his friend Angèle Gingras from the International House, herself a
character. He is shocked by the poverty of this world of “Jews without money,” even
commenting to Gingras about the neighborhood, “If you manage to separate the human
side of things...forget the life that these people lead...it's very picturesque, without a
doubt” (167). 176 Being the soul hunter that he is, Verissimo is unable to ignore the human
element for very long, and begins imagining the people living in the shabby tenements he
passes, “How many young girls could there be in these homes right now dreaming of
fame and a career? On the other hand, how many people all over the world sigh to live in
New York?” (167). 177Even when he feels that depopulating the neighborhood in his
imagination would make it more picturesque, Verissimo is compelled to humanize the
depressing scene.
Later in his New York sojourn, the author walks on the Bowery, which he refers
to as the “Street of Forgotten Men” (186). He encounters a group of men and learns
something about the welfare system. One of these men, whom he refers to as Bob Gray,
actually invites him to his home. We learn about Mr. Gray's former employment, his
family, and his dwelling. We meet his wife, a woman committed to ensuring that the
family manages to get one hot meal a day and that the children always can drink milk on
the $35 biweekly payment that the family receives. With Verissimo's descriptions of the
shabby apartment, his seeming dismay at the family's limited diet, and his comments
about the children's faces in which “a lack of sun can be noted,” (187), there is a sense of
a non-exploitative sympathy created for these poorer Americans. He also takes note of
176
Se você conseguir abstrair o lado humano da coisa...esquecer a vida que esta gente leva...é muito
pitoresco, não há dúvida. (167)
177
Quantas mocinhas haverá dentro destas casas a sonhar agora com uma carreira e com a fama?
Por outro lado, quantas pessoas no mundo inteiro suspiram por morar em Nova York? (167)
150
Bob Gray's optimism, “This is a great country, boy. From one hour to the next everything
will get better” (188). 178 Verissimo is moved by the poverty and optimism of this
character, “I suddenly have the disagreeable feeling that I am committing an indiscretion.
I search in vain for comforting or hopeful words. I don't find any” (188). 179 A discussion
of the lingering effects of the Great Depression was necessary in any depiction of the
United States in 1940. The personification of these effects in the form of Bob Gray makes
them more palpable to the reader. At the same time, it is important to remember that even
while receiving unemployment, the Gray family does not manifest the type of misery that
affected a broad swathe of the Brazilian population at the time Verissimo wrote his
travelogue. The Grays are suffering, but they are still optimistic and are still able to
discuss proper nutrition and purchase newspapers. Verissimo's loss for words may stem
from his discomfort at their poverty and their unashamed willingness to open their home,
but it may also be surprise at their standard of living given their state in life, a dissonance
further illuminated in his portrait of the Braccolino family of Chicago. This very short
chapter is an almost utopian vision of American working class life. He describes a welldressed Italian immigrant family gathering over a platter of ravioli, a family that lives in a
comfortable home and owns a car. Verissimo is shocked when he learns that Nicola
Braccolino works as a Pullman car repairman (233). Italian immigrant industrial laborers
would be familiar to a Brazilian readership, especially in places like São Paulo and Porto
Alegre. This makes the Braccolino family particularly relatable, and serves to highlight
178
Êste é um grande país, moço. Duma hora para outra tudo melhora. (188).
179
Tenho de repente a desagradável sensação de que estou cometendo uma indescrição. Procuro em
vão uma palavra de confôrto ou de esperança. Não encontro. (188)
151
the definite discrepancies in living standard between Brazilian and U.S. industrial
workers.
Verissimo is impressed with the capitalist ambition that he encounters in the
United States. While he is not enthusiastic about the focus on money, time and profit that
he witnesses (an element of the books that will be discussed in further detail in the last
section of this chapter), he is very impressed by the eagerness that North Americans
display in participating in their economy and their society. Once again, he uses
characterizations to clearly illustrate this aspect of U.S. society. There are several
chapters wholly dedicated to descriptions of children behaving in surprisingly adult ways.
In suburban Washington D.C. he witnesses children in yellow hoods who serve as
crossing guards. Verissimo is moved by the sense of civic duty and describes it as, “...the
most beautiful sight I've seen since I arrived. Not even the white and serene beauty of the
Lincon Memorial moved me this much” (57). 180In Philadelphia he meets Tommy, a
paperboy who impresses him with his ambition, and even requests his autograph. He uses
the encounter with Tommy, a clearly charming child whose father is a doctor, to inform
his readership of the North American habit of children working to receive spending
money. Child labor also existed in Brazil, but more as an economic necessity than a
cultural habit to instill work ethic, a fact made clear when Verissimo asks Tommy if he is
delivering newspapers “to help his parents” (113). Finally, there is a shoeshine boy in
Boston who, when he learns of Verissimo's nationality describes Carmen Miranda as
“dynamite” (209), and aspires to attend M.I.T. to study aeronautics. Verissimo is
impressed and tips him a quarter, commenting, “It's adorable the way that these children
180 ...o espetáculo mais belo a que tenho assistido desde que cheguei. Nem a branca e serena beleza do
Lincoln Memorial me comoveu tanto (GP 57)
152
know how to be grateful without exaggerating and polite without being servile. They treat
their elders with a respect which is delightful mixed with a sporting intimacy” (GP
210) 181. Verissimo sees a great deal of hope in the children that he encounters in the
U.S., and delights in their ambition and work ethic.
The variety of characters that Verissimo creates in his travelogues guide the
reader through a nation that is multi-faceted and filled with paradoxes, a nation that is
reeling from the effects of the Great Depression and poised to enter a World War, a
nation that is confident in its power but still hospitable to stranger like Verissimo. The
author lays out very honestly his process of characterization and the fictionalization of
real life experiences, and yet, it is this characterization that permits people like Miss T.,
Bob Gray, The Braccolinos and Tommy to jump off of the page and into the
consciousness of his readership. They convey a more realistic humanity to a nation than
the artifice of Hollywood. It was a necessary human touch for Verissimo to create,
especially given his charge of cultivating relations during the years of the Good Neighbor
Policy. Readers could identify with Verissimo, a Brazilian who, through his use of
interlocutors like Malazarte, his fictionalized family, Vasco Bruno and Fernanda and
Tobias, and the anonymous reader that converses with Verissimo at the end of the first
Gato Preto book, creates a multi-faceted discussion of the United States in his travel
books.
Verissimo himself cared little for these books, particularly the first one. In Sólo de
clarineta he writes:
This first excursion through the United States is painstakingly narrated in
Gato Preto em campo de neve, a book animated by a light and
181 É adorável o jeito como essas crianças sabem agradecer sem exagêro e ser gentis sem servilismo.
Tratam os mais velhos com um respeito em que há uma deliciosa mistura de intimidade esportiva
153
uncommitted joy, something that became anecdotal, informative, easy to
read, but superficial, and in some sections, even rather naive” (277). 182
It is true that the first Gato preto book features such an overwhelming a sense of
enthusiasm and a joy at living new experiences that perhaps prevents it from making a
sharper, more detached critique of the United States. However, it is this very sense of
exuberance and novelty that makes the books so readable, and creates such an engaging
portrait of the United States for both Brazilian and foreign readers. While there may be a
certain naïveté in Verissimo's narratives, these books contain insightful commentaries on
relations and differences between the two countries, and even more so on Verissimo's
own identity as a Brazilian traveling in the developed North. Further analysis of this
aspect of the books in light of criticism on travel literature will demonstrate that these
books are in fact far more critical and illuminating of relations between Brazil and the
United States than even Verissimo himself was willing to grant.
The Cannibal on the Road: The Overturning of North-South Dynamics in the Gato
Preto Books.
A reader's identification with a traveler creates a bond that leads to thrills, autoreflection, and ideally a better understanding of the reader's place of origin as well as the
subject of the travelogue. The portrayal of the subject matter is a particularly problematic
element in the study of travel literature. Recent scholarship on travel literature has often
focused on its role in the creation and maintenance of colonialist discourses. Tzvetan
Todorov comments, “In order to ensure the tension necessary to the travel narrative, the
specific position of the colonizer is required: curious about the other and secure in his
182 Essa primeira excursão através dos Estados Unidos está minuciosamente narrada em Gato Preto em
Campo de Neve, livro animado por uma alegria descompromissada e ligeira de turista, coisa que o torna
anedótico, informativo, fácil de ler mas superficial e , em alguns trechos até um tanto ingênuo. (277).
154
own superiority” (69). With the rise of decolonization after World War II, a superficially
less colonial approach to travel narrative emerged, one that Debbie Lisle refers to as
cosmopolitanism. In Lisle's work, The Global Politics of Contemporary Travel Writing,
she contrasts the aims of this style of travel narrative with the colonial works: “Unlike
their colonial predecessors, these writers frame encounters with others in positive ways -- they reveal moments of empathy, recognitions of difference, realisations of equality and
insights into shared values” (4). While this would appear to be an improvement on the
traditional approach to travel narrative, Lisle's work aims to uncover the traces of older,
more colonialist travel writings. “My point is that the cosmopolitan vision embedded in
contemporary travel writing and espoused by many liberal thinkers is not as
emancipatory as it claims to be; rather it is underscored by the remnants of Orientalism,
colonialism and Empire” (5). In a genre so marked by its utility for a colonial project, it is
inevitable that later attempts by writers to create in this mode will continue to display this
ignominious baggage, no matter how cosmopolitan their intentions may be.
While Lisle's work deals with travel narratives written in English after 1970, her
observations on the colonialist hangover that confronts travel writers are intriguing food
for thought in the analysis of Erico Verissimo as protagonist in his travelogues. As
Nelson Vieira has commented, Verissimo is an interesting case in that he displays and
celebrates the sort of cosmopolitanism that Lisle claims to be a more contemporary
phenomenon. Verissimo was writing on the cusp of the Second World War, an era that
was a swan song for a late nineteenth and early twentieth-century form of colonialism.
Furthermore, Verissimo was not a representative of a colonial power, but rather a voice
from the global periphery. Unlike the colonialist narrators that Lisle and Todorov discuss,
155
Verissimo neither represented a global power nor was he exploring territory completely
alien to his readers. While Hollywood had constructed a glamour around the United
States, it had also stripped the country of its mystery. Even so, there is an undeniable
presence of unequal power dynamics throughout the Gato Preto books. As discussed
earlier, Verissimo was traveling to the United States to help foster relations between his
homeland and the United States, having been invited (and financially sponsored) by the
U.S. State Department. He is constantly demonstrating his awe at various aspects of
North American life, such as the standard of living, the vibrancy of its cultural life and
the general sense of freedom. He does negatively judge North American race relations
and ignorance of Latin America, but these asides do not detract from what is an overall
positive report back to Brazilians about a country that was trying desperately to gain their
favor. When one thinks of the Gato Preto books in these terms, it is understandable that
certain Brazilian intellectuals would indeed view Verissimo as an apologist for the United
States at best. Using Lisle’s definition of “cosmopolitan” travel writing, one could
describe Verissimo as a writer who has covered his writing with a veneer of
cosmopolitanism, but who is fundamentally duplicating a colonial narrative in reverse.
Rather than using a colonist's eye to judge the subject of his travelogue negatively, his
enthusiasm for the United States serves to reinforce a Brazilian sense of inferiority like
that encountered in the work of Lobato analyzed in the last chapter. The books can
therefore be regarded as an inversion of the standard colonialist travel narrative that
categorizes and inferiorizes a distant land.
And yet, Verissimo's work must not be dismissed as a tool of imperialism. It is
clear that Verissimo is a proud Brazilian. While Cándida Smith may point out some of his
156
own personal financial interest in divulging Brazilian literature to an American public, a
reading of the Gato Preto books reveals a genuine commitment to building a greater
understanding of Brazil in the United States. As has been stated above, some of the most
humorous and poignant passages of the two books revolve around Verissimo's
confrontation of North American ignorance of Brazil. While he usually combats this
ignorance with humor and charisma, (a sense of humor that will be explored in further
detail ahead), he also does seem personally hurt by it. Though it may be impressive and
even admirable, Verissimo does not entirely buy into the United States’ superiority.
Finally, the games of subjectivity that Verissimo plays as both narrator and
traveler throughout the books further challenge his North American hosts’ position of
power. Verissimo the Narrator and his alter-ego Malazarte manifest a playful relationship
both to their Brazilianness and to their hosts, particularly in relation to the question of the
exotic. This question is crucial to understanding the ways that Verissimo manages to play
with hegemony in his texts. Exoticism and alterity have always been key facets of travel
narrative. Todorov comments:
In space: the 'true' travel narrative, from the point of view of the
contemporary reader, recounts the discovery of others…A journey in
France would not result in a “travel narrative.” It is not that such narratives
do not exist, but they clearly lack the feeling of alterity in relationship to
the people (and the lands) described. (68)
Renata Wasserman discusses the exotic in detail in her own article on Verissimo's
writings on the United States. After confirming travel narrative’s utility as a window on
the exotic for “civilized” readers she claims of Verissimo’s work, “So these two volumes
in question invert the customary itinerary and put the point of view in an unusual
157
place 183” (211) and raises the question, “When the exotic being goes on a journey and
tells what he has seen, does he continue to be exotic?” 184(211). For Wasserman,
Verissimo's role as a representative of the “exotic” shifts the axis of his travel narratives.
Theory and criticism like Wasserman's has become more commonplace in the
study of travel literature. While in the 1980s and 1990s there was more of a focus on
travel narratives as building blocks of colonialism, more nuanced readings have emerged
that examine texts by writers from the margins of empire. Mary Baine Campbell refers to
the more explicitly post-colonial reading of travel narrative as one that pits “The West
versus the Rest.” She points out, however:
It has been an important advance to realise that 'the Rest' had its own
various power politics and forms of observation, into which usually
oblivious Western desires could be plugged, and that the power of colonial
masters was not as absolute or deracinating as the masters themselves or
even some of their guilty descendants, believed. (264)
Travel narratives from the Global South like Verissimo’s must be analyzed alongside
such writings from more traditionally colonialist sources not only to aid the scholar in a
critique of traditional models of travel writing, but also to observe the impact of the
imperial system on the writing of these peripheral travelers. 185 It is also essential to
realize that these texts are not purely a late-Twentieth Century phenomenon. Latin
183
Ora, os dois tomos em questão invertem o itinerário costumeiro e colocam o ponto de vista em lugar
inusitado. (211)
184
Quando o ser exótico sai em viagem e conta o que viu, ele continua sendo exótico? (211)
185 Debbie Lisle discusses this in greater detail when she talks about Tété-Michel Kpomassie's 1983 book,
An African in Greenland in her above cited work. She remarks, “And herein lies the difficulty: even in
travelogues written by previously colonised others, the projection of difference does not abate. As the
preface to An African in Greenland explains, he is not above using his position as coloniser of a foreign
land: 'Kpomassie enjoyed giving free rein to certain deep-seated tendencies to dominate, to possess, –in
short, to play the king a little.' It is both uncomfortable and revealing when Kpomassie escapes his usual
confines as a colonised subject, and starts to take on board behaviour previously restricted to colonial
powers (e.g. sleeping with local women, moralising about locals, capitalising on his 'natural aristocracy' by
'playing the king a little). (89)
158
American discussions of the United States like Verissimo's have a long history that
predates the wave of “postcolonial” thought. These books were a venue for Brazil to
evaluate and assess the utility of a country that was doing the same to Brazil. Verissimo
the Narrator (and to a lesser extent Malazarte), are not merely vicarious guides or
surrogates for the reader. They are agents acting in an encounter between Brazil and the
United States, between center and periphery. They are also the site of resistance to a
global ideology that exalted the developed center and a marginalized Brazil.
As discussed earlier, humor is among the most salient tools in Verissimo’s
approach to questions of identity and peripherality. Verissimo the Narrator and Malazarte
both exhibit a playfulness that permeates the pages of the Gato Preto books. Verissimo
plays with his Brazilian identity and the perceived stuffiness (or at least commitment to
following the rules) of his North American hosts. When Verissimo arrives in the United
States for the first time, he already displays irreverence when dealing with bureaucracy,
cracking an unappreciated joke about the Good Neighbor Policy with the customs agent
(32) 186. Verissimo’s teasing sense of humor is a personality trait that repeatedly comes
through in his texts, and in this initial exchange serves to distinguish him from his North
American hosts. The jocular cordiality that is common in Brazilian social exchanges does
not seem to line up with the more down to business approach of the North Americans.
That said, this type of warm good-natured exchange is also a rarity in Brazilian
interactions with bureaucracy, where a clear sense of social position often informs
186
– Quem foi que lhe pagou a passagem? ---indaga o funcionario, erguendo para mim um par de olhos
azues e aguados.
---O Govêrno Americano.
---Por que motivo?
Hesito um instante e, para encurtar a história, resumo-a em duas palavras:
---Boa vizinhança.
Ele me contempla por alguns segundos, com frio ar de dúvida. (32)
159
exchanges. 187 Verissimo has left his home, giving him a certain freedom to tease
unfamiliar people and to mitigate feelings of culture shock, poor treatment due to
prejudice and the general ignorance surrounding his homeland that he encounters abroad.
Through humor, Verissimo is able to turn the tables on the unequal relationship that
permitted his journey.
There are many exchanges after his initial, poorly received attempt that display a
willingness to humorously buy into North American stereotypes of Brazilians but also to
raise awareness of these stereotypes. After making it through customs he has a strange
exchange with another North American while waiting for the Brazilian Consul General.
In this exchange he is outraged that the man confuses him for a soccer player and instead
responds that he is Mickey Mouse (34) 188. This frustrating interaction highlights the
theme of stereotypes and prejudice that permeates the first and, to a lesser extent, the
second Gato Preto books. Verissimo is in the United States to foster better understanding
between the two countries, in part by dismantling the stereotypes and prejudices he so
abhors (think back on his desire to see Alabama without hearing “Oh Susanna”
mentioned earlier in this chapter). The misinformed notions that North Americans in the
Gato Preto books convey continuously reinforce Brazil’s subordinate role to the United
States, but also exacerbate certain raw points within the author’s own Brazilian identity.
While Verissimo saw himself as different from other intellectuals, he still expected to be
187 For more on this, consult Roberto da Matta on “Teoria e prática do ‘Sabe com quem você está
falando'” in his 1979 book Carnavais, Malandros e Heróis: para uma sociologia do dilema brasileiro.
188
“Um sujeito magro, alto e de óculos, com ar de missionário metodista nas Filipinas, me agride com uma
pergunta brusca:
---O senhor é jogador de Botafogo?
---Não. Eu sou Mickey Mouse.
---O homem me olha espantado, rosna um sorry de boca torta e se vai. Céus! Será que trago na face o
estigma futebolístico? Aproximo-me de Daudt de Oliveira.” (34)
160
treated with the respect he deserved as a celebrated writer invited to the U.S. by the State
Department. The intelligentsia in Brazil occupies a prestigious position, and Verissimo’s
treatment upon arrival does not meet his expectations. His invitation’s validity is
questioned by customs officials and people mistake him for a soccer player within
moments of his entering the country. The best method for coping with this jarring
apparent disrespect is to create a pesky, humorous persona that takes it in stride,
responding to these occasions with flippant jokes. The real life Verissimo, as a cultural
diplomat, would have had to maintain a certain sense of decorum in his interactions with
his U.S. hosts. Verissimo the Narrator and his youthful counterpart Malazarte,
complement this sense of decorum through their sarcastic irreverence when dealing with
ignorance from officials and people in more formal contexts. Despite this irreverent
defense mechanism, the author tries to employ a more diplomatic approach when dealing
with children and students, North Americans in whom he can instill a genuine interest in
his homeland.
Verissimo often speaks with young Americans about the reality of Brazil. While
visiting a family in Philadelphia he makes a point to tell the young daughter that in Brazil
they do not wear big sombreros like those stereotypically worn by Mexicans. The girl is
terribly disappointed with his response, remarking, ”Oh…there’s no charm in that at all”
when he fetches a felt hat from the closet (114). While Verissimo is delicate with his
young interlocutor he is firm in his insistence that Brazilians are indeed participants in the
modern world. When he gives a speech to a group of international students in New York,
he clearly articulates the need to correct ignorance of Brazil in an amusing speech:
Hollywood insists on presenting a Brazil painted in Spanish tones, a
country where “muchachos in big sombreros sing serenades in Rio de
161
Janeiro. And if in this case if the filmmakers got the name of our capital
right, its not because of their good geographical knowledge, but rather
because, thank heavens, Buenos Aires doesn't rhyme with
sombrero. 189(142)
These interactions with children and students are times when Verissimo the Narrator
maintains his irreverent humorous persona without behaving disrespectfully, thus
highlighting his cultural diplomacy work. In his narrative, he shows himself creating
change by targeting the younger generations and exposing some of their own ignorance
through his easy-going Brazilian humor.
On the contrary, when dealing with ignorant adults and people away from the
educational milieu, Verissimo’s humor bites when he exposes his hosts’ ignorance. At a
cocktail party in the Brazilian Embassy he is approached by a man “with a face the color
of old ivory” who asks him, “Do you speak Spanish or Portuguese in Brazil” (78).
Verissimo the Narrator responds quickly that he speaks Chinese and then blames
Malazarte (79). The author is embarrassed by his flippant response, even attributing it on
his youthful alter-ego; nevertheless, he cannot deny that some part of him refuses to
suffer the ignorance of people who should know better. Even if in reality he would have
been unable to let his diplomatic guard down, he serves as an avenger to North American
ignorance of his homeland in his writing. There are instances, however, where even
189
---O Brasil é um país muito sem sorte...Foi descoberto há mais de quatrocentos anos por um navegador
português e só agora o seu bom vizinho, os Estados Unidos, está começando a descobri-lo...Espero não seja
tarde demais.
Risadas. Tenho a impressão de que um certo estado de tensão que havia no ar---desconfiança, expectativa,
vago temor---desaparece como por encanto.
---Tomemos um americano comum. Que sabe êle do Brasil? Que é um país muito grande na América do
Sul, com florestas, índios, cobras, jacarés, palmeiras...e mais cobras. Outro dia um menino em Filadélfia
me disse que o Brasil é “o lugar de onde vem o café”. Os homens de negócio da América do Norte só nos
sabem descrever em termos de dólare e de capacidade aquisitiva. Hollywood insiste em apresenter ao
mundo Brasil pintado com côres espanholas, um país em que muchachos com grandes sombreros cantam
serenatas in Rio de Janeiro”. E se neste caso a gente do cinema menciona certo o nome de nossa capital não
é porque seus conhecimentos geográficos sejam bons, mas sim porque, graças aos céus, Buenos Aires não
rima com sombrero...(GP 141-142)
162
Verissimo's well-honed weapon of humor cannot prevent his shock and distress at North
American ignorance of Brazil.
While visiting Boston in the first book, he is impressed by a children's museum,
where boxes are available for children to peruse cultural artifacts from a variety of
different countries. The box representing Mexico contains a variety of dolls, a miniature
house, ceramics, dried flowers, maps and other items to help educate North American
children about Mexico. He asks the curator if there is anything from Brazil, and when he
checks the box, there is only a coffee branch 190 (209). While it is a humorous encounter,
it also coldly demonstrates the level of ignorance of Brazil and reinforces a sense of
inferiority to and neglect by the hemispheric superpower. Verissimo was controversial in
Brazil for not explicitly condemning the United States or exposing the exploitative nature
of the relationship between the two countries. What he does show, however, was perhaps
an even harsher truth. In Verissimo's narrative, the United States was not an evil power
conspiring against the development of Brazil...it was a power that hardly even knew or
cared that Brazil existed. This may have been a more difficult critique for Brazilians to
accept than the type of discourse exemplified by Eduardo Prado, which posited that the
United States disrespects Brazil because it covets the nation’s resources. Brazil plays an
important role in that type of discourse. On the contrary, in Verissimo's text, Brazil is
barely even a blip on the U.S. radar. Americans aren't clever fiends plotting to get their
hands on all of the coffee and rubber...they can't even tell you that Buenos Aires is
190
– E do Brasil...---indago---tem alguma coisa?
A senhora de óculos faz um gesto de desamparo e me apresenta uma caixa em que se lê o nome do meu
país. Abro-a e encontro dentro dela apenas um melancólico ramo de café.--Só?
–Só---responde ela, meio constrangida. (209)
163
actually in Argentina. For Verissimo, this ignorance is a serious obstacle to productive
U.S. engagement with Brazil.
Among Verissimo's tactics for confronting this ignorance is a willingness to
facetiously claim certain stereotypes. In a chapter entitled “Os canibais”. When
Verissimo and his family are riding the train through Alabama, he jokes with a porter that
they have been avoiding the dining car not because of budgetary constraints, but because
they don’t serve human flesh. He meditates on this humorous exchange:
I start to wonder whether, if instead of having this exchange with a black
Pullman car employee I had had the same dialogue with an American
reporter. Probably in his next article we would read that “Brazilians are an
exotic people who still indulge in the strange habit of cannibalism”. 191 (5960)
This long and humorous passage is dense with meaning. We see Verissimo the Narrator
in the trickster mode that he had established for himself throughout the first Gato Preto
book. Furthermore, we see a stereotype linked to Brazil since the earliest European
reports harnessed as a defense mechanism.
The trope of Brazilians as cannibals in the eyes of foreigners has long concerned
Brazilian intellectuals. Oswald de Andrade's “Manifesto Antropófago” and Mário de
Andrade's Macunaíma are Brazilian modernist texts which foreground early European
explorers’ fascination with cannibalism in Brazil. To be Brazilian is to be savage in the
eyes of outsiders. This perceived savagery, whether it is embraced or repudiated as
inferiorization, is baggage that Brazilian intellectuals bring to interactions with the
outside world. Verissimo's preemptive embrace of this stereotype, an approach which
191
Fico a pensar que, se em vez de ter conservado com êsse prêto empregado de carro Pullman eu tivesse
tido o mesmo diálogo com algum repórter americano provàvelmente no seu próximo artigo leríamos que
“os brasileiros são um povo exótico que ainda se entrega ao estranho hábito da antropofagia”. (59-60)
164
seems at odds with his mission to dismantle ignorance about Brazil, is in fact a strategic
move. Verissimo uses his joking embrace of cannibalism to hide the fact that his family
has not been eating in the dining car for financial reasons. Renata Wasserman comments,
“In fact, the reason [for avoiding the dining car] is economical, but better a cannibalistic
Brazilian than a poor Brazilian in the rich American landscape, one in which the steward
probably would have had to readjust his prejudices: what kind of creature could he
be?”192 (215). Verissimo deflects shame and frustration at his financial status, something
brought about by the North-South system, by reminding the porter (and the reader) of
another aspect of this system, the exoticization of Brazil and of the Brazilian. Rather than
accepting a difficult economic reality and submitting to North-South power dynamics,
humor, even at the expense of his national pride, allows the narrator to take control of his
portrayal of the United States.
In his article on Montaigne's “Of Cannibals,” Michel de Certeau comments on the
role of cannibalism within travel narratives, particularly when it comes to differentiating
between savagery and civilization:
The cannibal is only a variant of this general difference, but a typical one
since he is supposed to demarcate a boundary line. Therefore when he
sidesteps the identifications given him, he causes a disturbance that places
the entire symbolic order in question. The global delimitation of “our”
culture in relation to the savage concerns the entire gridding of the system
that brushes up against the boundary and presupposes, as in the Ars
Memoriae that there is a place for every figure. (70).
In Certeau's view, the cannibals in Montaigne's work, characters drawn from travel
narratives describing cannibals in Brazil that had become such a part of a discourse of
192
Na realidade, a razão é econômica, mas antes brasileiro canibal do que brasileiro pobre naquela rica
terra americana, em que o camareiro provavelmente também teria tido de reajustar os seus preconceitos:
que tipo de gato seria aquele? (215)
165
brasilidade in the twentieth century, have the capacity to upset a global system based on
a savage other and a civilized “us.” As a representative of “the savage” who is
attempting to correct U.S. ignorance of his homeland and also define the United States in
Brazilian terms, Verissimo blurs lines between “us” and “them” that have long plagued
travel narratives. Though traveling under imperial auspices, he still has the power to
analyze the empire from the inside and to create another discourse, one which
simultaneously foregrounds and lampoons North American ignorance of Brazil. It is a
narrative that permits a serious diplomat to play with his counterparts and even return to
his youthful self, one which invites Brazil to the table of nations that are able to send out
emissaries to evaluate and pontificate on other lands. Verissimo embraces and combats a
cultural discourse of savagery that has long been a part of discussions of Brazil, and
brings the United States into this discourse.
Verissimo's Changing Analysis of the United States
While Verissimo himself may not have appreciated his North American
travelogues, the analysis in this chapter affirms their status as remarkably nuanced works
that contribute a great deal to discussions of relations between Brazil and the United
States, as well as a discussion of Brazilian self-identity. Though the books are mostly
comprised of impressionistic descriptions and characterizations, a well-informed analysis
of the United States also permeates his texts. As Antônio Tota and Nelson Vieira have
already commented, among the most valuable analysis present in these books is
Verissimo's discussion of Hollywood and the U.S. film industry, the very aspect of the
United States that most appealed to him (and many other Brazilians of his generation) in
his youth. Particularly in the first book, there is an exhaustive discussion of Hollywood,
166
with detailed descriptions of the studios, a reproduction of the Hays Code in Portuguese,
and even some charmingly starstruck encounters with actors like Charles Boyer and Bette
Davis. Verissimo opines on cinema's challenges, claiming, “The studios today live
imprisoned by the formulas that they themselves created” 193(351). His resistance to
contemporary Hollywood’s formulas is indicative of a broader resistance to the formulas
that is central to his analysis.
In the imaginary dialogue between the author and an anonymous reader that
concludes the first Gato Preto book, Verissimo the Narrator is asked about the aspects of
U.S. society that he dislikes. He responds that they are racial prejudice and the formulaic
approach to much of U.S. life, particularly in larger cities. The first response will be
explored in further detail, as it is the critique of the United States that most permeates his
books. The second, however, is also important. There is often a sense that Verissimo
views U.S. society as robotic. Its fixation on time, efficiency and profit has led to a
certain focus on simplification and standardization. This is a comparison present in
Brazilian discussions of the United States both before and after Verissimo, but that is
particularly well-articulated in the Gato Preto books. Verissimo very systematically
deconstructs the standardization and formulaic aspects of North American life in this
final section, detailing formulas that he encounters in the U.S. for all aspects of modern
life from dining to reading, to dating, to courtesy, to religion. 194In a talk he gave in
193
Os estúdios vivem hoje prisioneiros das fórmulas que êles mesmos inventaram (351).
194 This section is a genuinely fascinating part of the book, as it is probably his most critical and analytical
discussion of the United States. He reproduces a talk he gave in Chicago, “Like all people in the world,
Americans want to be happy. In a word, they try to make life agreeable, easy, fun and comfortable. In order
to obtain comfort and diversion, they need money. In order to get money, they have to work. To regulate
work, they have to have organization. Organization has a great deal to do with time. Time is money – that's
the terrible war cry, they key to all of a materialist civilization. Things being as they are, Americans try to
save time. To save time they simplify things. Simplification led to standardization. Standardization led to
formulas. That's why an inhabitant of a large city like New York and Chicago lives according to formulas.
167
Chicago during his first journey to the U.S., he described these formulas, giving
examples of them ranging from specials in diners as a formula for eating to Reader's
Digest as a formula for reading.
For Verissimo, foreign policy was not immune the North American penchant for
formulaic living:
When [Americans] read the name Brazil printed on a poster, the image that
they draw in their mind is – a blue sky, some palm trees, a snake on the
ground, a black man carrying a sack of coffee on his back, a “muchacho”
dancing rumba, perhaps a butterfly or two. This is Brazil, land of the
picturesque and of romance. Why don't the newspapers and magazines
help their public to have a more precise idea of Brazilian life? Because
they are ignorant? Of course not! It's because they know their audience is
used to its formulas, and they are afraid that audience does not want to
know the truth about Brazil. 195(401)
In Verissimo's brief experience of life in the United States, he had seen repeatedly that,
despite the best efforts of the State Department and the OCIAA, stereotypes and
prejudices about his homeland were far more common than solid information, While he
was invited by the U.S. government, he took pains to reiterate this critique to his U.S.
audiences. Verissimo's analysis of U.S. society was succinct and insightful enough that it
not only educated Brazilians about the Northern neighbor that was suddenly interested in
them, but also encouraged North Americans themselves to consider their own society and
its values. Far from merely echoing the discourse that the United States itself was
He has a formula 1 – to eat, 2 – to communicate, 3 – to be polite, 4 – to converse, 5 – to make dates, 6 – to
have faith, 7 – to read” (399).
195
Quando lêm o nome Brasil impresso num cartaz, o quadro que se lhes desenha na mente é – um céu
azul, algumas palmeiras, uma cobra no chão, um negro carregando às costas um saco de café, um
“muchacho” dansando a rumba, e talvez uma borboleta ou duas. Isso é Brasil, a terra do pitoresco e do
romance! Por que os jornais e revistas não ajudam o público de ter uma idéia mais exata da vida brasileira?
Por que são ignorantes? Claro que não. É porque eles sabem que o público está acostumado às fórmulas,
temem que êle não queira saber a verdade a respeito do Brasil. (401)
168
propagating during the years of the Good Neighbor Policy, Verissimo was putting a
Brazilian spin on it, commenting on both positive and negative aspects of the country. 196
Apart from formulas, Verissimo’s deepest critique of the United States was in the
area of race relations. As individualist as he may have been, race is a topic where
Verissimo was very much in line with other Brazilian thinkers of the day, such as
Gilberto Freyre. Some Brazilian commentators postulated that he himself suffered
racism, or at least stood out in terms of skin color, because of his Brazilian origin, going
as far as to attribute his books titles to this racism. They believed that his title, “Black cat
in a snow field,” referred to his darker-skinned Brazilian self in the white United States, a
symbolic interpretation that he himself denied. In the preface to the 1953 edition of the
second Gato Preto book he comments, “The readers, however, did not accept my
explanation, to them it looked like the black cat was the author himself, that is, a darkskinned guy traveling among fair skinned people and hibernating landscapes” (VGP) 197.
In neither Gato Preto book does Verissimo detail any type of violence or discrimination
that he himself experienced due to his own physical appearance (though there are several
instances of prejudice based on ignorance of Brazil and his financial situation which have
already been discussed in this chapter). This is most probably based on the fact that
196
It was a speech that resonated even with Americans who heard it. C.D. Beezley, a member of the Junior
Library committee of the Union League Club wrote a letter to a certain J.H. Matter in which he recalls, “I
remember one of his comparisons between folks here in the U.S. And Brazilians, which he made with a
twinkle in his eye. He said that folks up here seemed to have standardized everything whereas in most
personal matters each Brazilian is decidedly and individualist. For example, he said that when you go into a
coffee shop here for breakfast, you don't find people selecting the particular things they want, but rather
they take Breakfast #4 or Breakfast #7. He sailed and went on to remark that even in matters of close
personal relationships we seem to be standardized, and if one wishes to send congratulations or
condolences or messages of tender affection it is frequently done by sending Western Union Telegram
number 7 or Number 10”.
197
Os leitores, porém, não aceitaram a explicação, pois pareceram achar que o gato prêto era o próprio
autor, isto é, um sujeito de tez morena a caminhar por entre gente clara e paisagens hibernais (VGP).
169
Verissimo, though he refers to himself as moreno throughout the books, would have been
considered phenotypically white by most people in the United States, albeit quite
different in appearance from the average member of the WASP establishment.
Despite differing definitions of racial categories, it was clear to Verissimo that
people who were considered black in the United States suffered from institutional racism.
He does not document specific instances of violence or discrimination, going as far as to
claim:
One cannot say that blacks there are mistreated. Cases of lynching have
diminished significantly in recent times. Blacks, however, are segregated
and live in a position of inferiority. Not only this. They bring out a certain
unease in the white population. While it may seem unbelievable, there still
are racial purists in America. (398-399). 198
This commentary differs from Gilberto Freyre’s later life revulsion at U.S racial violence
(although it does not differ as dramatically from his commentaries in “Da Outra
América”), as it implies that Verissimo's problems with racism had more to do with
widely held attitudes and the overarching structure of race in society than with specific
instances that he documented. The first book does include descriptions of the lives of
African-Americans in Washington D.C. and in Harlem. He describes the poverty of black
neighborhoods in Washington D.C. and also discusses programs in existence to help the
black community. Nevertheless, he does not believe that the problem is one of funding or
living conditions, but rather one of the mentality of the white community. He writes,
“There exists a problem with a difficult solution. This is the prejudice of whites in
relation to their darker brothers. It's something that cannot be resolved with a decree; a
198
Devo confessar que uma delas foi o preconceito racial. Não se pode dizer que o negro lá seja maltratado.
Os casos de linchamento têm diminuido sensivelmente nos últimos tempos. O negro, porém, vive
segregado e numa posição de inferioridade. Não só isso. Êles despertam um certo mal-estar nas populações
brancas. Parece incrível, mas há ainda puristas da raça na América” (GP 398-399).
170
difficulty that cannot be removed with money” 199(72). Verissimo views himself as an
anti-racist. In the second book, he is shocked when he has to fill in his family's race in
order to register his son for school and even writes a letter to the principal explaining that
he cannot determine which category he fits in, and so, “'I am a human being.' Isn't that
enough, my dear principal?” 200 (141). At the same time, there are several passages in the
book where he expresses quite racist sentiments when discussing blacks in the United
States.
In his description of his jocular exchange about cannibalism with the train porter
in A volta do gato preto, the porter's race is made very prominent. He makes a point to
racialize the porter, describing him as a negrão, and commenting on the way he
pronounces Alabama 201 (58-59). In a description reminiscent of minstrel show era tropes,
he focuses on the porter's large white teeth, a particularly problematic point of focus as it
follows the narrator's joke about being a cannibal. Verissimo's joking admission to
cannibalism is compared and contrasted with a black man's white teeth. This
paradoxically reinforces the imagery of a savage darker other, while it creates an affinity
between the Verissimos and black Americans. This is further reinforced when Verissimo
observes that an (presumably white) American journalist probably would not have
understood his joke. The author, as an outsider, and one with darker skin, sees a
connection between himself and American blacks (and other non-WASP populations).
This is a complicated stance. As an outsider and a representative of the Global South,
199
Existe, entretanto, um problema de mais difícil solução. É o que diz respeito ao preconceito dos brancos
com relação aos seus irmãos mais escuros. Trata-se de qualquer coisa que se não resolve com um decreto;
duma dificuldade que não se remove com dinheiro” (72).
200
“Sou um ser humano.” Isto não é bastante, minha prezada diretora? (141)
201
É um gozo ouvir um negro pronunciar o nome dessa região. Êle abre bem a bôca, e com os beiços moles
canta: É-la-baaaaama –, prolongando musicalmente o terceiro a. (58-59).
171
Verissimo indeed shared certain experiences with the black community in the United
States. At the same time, it is plain throughout the books that the author has not been
subjected to the type of segregation that American blacks faced during these years.
Furthermore, his use of classically racist imagery of cannibalism when describing the
porter, even when this discussion of cannibalism was meant to include himself as
Brazilian, problematizes Verissimo's discourse on race in the United States.
Perhaps Verissimo's feeling of connectedness with African -Americans came
from an overall feeling of difference as a Latino in the United States. In Verissimo's case,
there is a project evident in these books of leveling differences between North Americans
and Brazilians. When the author highlights fundamental differences between
Brazilian/Latin cultures and the United States, it is often as a hypothetical statement that
he is debunking. This discussion of fundamental cultural and societal difference between
the two Americas was a crucial part of Brazilian discourse around the United States
throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The articulation of these
differences is most notable in the second Gato Preto book, which is logical given the
more profound observations that would have occurred after a longer stint in the United
States. Comments on the fundamental differences between North American and Latin
American cultures aim to mitigate certain fundamental attitudes, among which he
scornfully derides as, “...a sad Quixotism jousting at windmills and seeing in all corners
enemies of “latinidad” and proclaiming that 'Yankee civilization' is purely mechanical
and that we, the Latinos, are those who truly know and love the life of the spirit” (VGP
179).
202
That said, there is a whole chapter of A volta do Gato Preto in which Verissimo,
202 This citation comes from a description of the narrator's colleague, a Colombian named Germán
Arciniegas, who claims is free from... “um triste quixotismo investindo contra moinhos de vento ver por
172
in one of his letters featuring an imaginary conversation between himself and Tobias,
discusses deep differences between the two nations that is entitled “Materialismo e
Idealismo.” In this chapter, Tobias tries to convince the author that there is a deep-rooted
difference between the two cultures, specifically, because of the United States' reputation
for materialism. Tobias brings up France and Latin America as alternatives, societies
more focused on ideals and the arts. Verissimo the Narrator tries very hard to debunk
this, paying particular attention to the vibrancy of the arts and literature in the United
States. While he cannot escape fundamental differences, he still sees more importance in
the similarities. Richard Cándida Smith describes this eloquently in his article, “The two
countries, which Veríssimo assumed were to become allies, were both like adolescents
excitedly searching for the poetry of existence, gave him hope for the world’s future”
(151). Verissimo values a plurality of voices and opinions, for a democratic approach to
ideas, and for a mutual sense of understanding between the two giants of the Western
Hemisphere.
Verissimo's work as a writer focused on the United States ended with the Gato
Preto books. Though he would return to the United States many times over the following
decades of his life, the country would only return as a theme in fictional works. After a
decade in Brazil as a successful author, he returned to the United States in the early 1950s
to serve as the Director of the Department of Cultural Affairs for the Organization of
American States (still called the Pan-American Union at the time). In Sólo de clarineta he
appears ambivalent about this job, writing humorously, “If at the age of 21 I felt rather
todos os cantos inimigos da 'latinidad,' e proclamando que a 'civilização ianque' é puramente mecânica e
que só nós, os latinos, é que conhecemos e amamos a vida do espírito” (179)
173
awkward behind the pharmacy counter, I was no more at ease at 47 seated at my work
desk” 203 (311). He felt incapable of filling the shoes of Alceu Amoroso Lima, who held
the job before him (311). He also ironically commented, “And going deeper, I also doubt
that the reader could possibly think that, by exercising that office, I ever nourished the
vain and foolish idea that I was defending or mejorando la cultura de nuestra madre
America” 204 (322). Verissimo shared some interesting anecdotes about his time with the
OAS in his memoir, but there was no equivalent to the Gato Preto books, perhaps
because he was now so familiar with the United States. His daughter Clarissa had married
an American, and he often visited the country, even after his stint at the OAS.
Furthermore, if in Sólo de clarineta he appeared ambivalent about his work at the OAS,
in an 1967 interview with Clarice Lispector for Manchete, he reveals that he despised it.
“I detested my post at the Pan-American Union. I was unable to write a single line during
those three bureaucratic years. What came out the best from that time was our
friendship” 205 (21).
These observations and frustrations with the United States and its effect on his
productivity display the continued evolution of Verissimo’s opinions of the country that
was a second home in many ways. While his travelogues from the 1940s contain an
unquenchable enthusiasm, both the United States and Verissimo were changing. In the
1960s and 1970s he grew more critical of what he saw to be negative developments in the
203
Se aos vinte e um anos eu me sentira um tanto canhestro atrás dum balcão de farmácia, agora aos
quarenta e sete não estava mais à vontade sentado àquela mesa de trabalho...(311)
204
E indo mais fundo, é também porque receio que o leitor possa pensar que, no exercício daquele cargo,
eu alguma vez tivesse alimentado a tola e vaidosa idéia de que estava defendendo ou mejorando la cultura
de nuestra madre America. (322).
205
“Detestava o meu posto da União Pan-Americana. Não consegui escrever uma linha durante esses três
anos burocráticos. O que sobrou de melhor desse tempo foi a nossa amizade” (21).
174
United States. In many ways he saw the social upheaval of the 1960s as profoundly
healthy for a country that had always lived according to formulas, writing in his Sólo de
clarineta, “This unveiling in my opinion will be in the end very healthy for the United
States. No doctor can cure a patient without knowing what he really is suffering” 206
(113). He was distressed by the racist violence and hatred that came out of some whites
during the Civil Rights struggle, though he was equally disappointed by the political
situation in Brazil itself. In a 1962 letter from the U.S. to his dear friend Vianna Moog he
comments:
So Moog, our country stinks huh? We need to talk...But it stinks over here
too. When I hear a Southerner cite the Bible to justify his anti-black
sentiments the blood rushes to my head...But what is there to do? Cultivate
our gardens like Voltaire suggested? It's impossible now. It's full of
snakes, poisonous spiders and insects that bite or annoy. And they mostly
annoy” (Verissimo 22 Aug. 1962). 207
In this same letter he also bemoans the mechanization of the United States. “Pedestrians?
Just me. These people don't walk Mr. Moog. They're all mechanized. These people will
wind up giving all their mental work over to computers, which I call (and Dave laughs),
filhodaputers” (Verissimo 22 Aug.1962). He was bored by the prosperity that had so
impressed him in 1940s. In another letter to Moog he writes, “The U.S. is more or less
like what you said about Aurélio's son: prosperous and boring. I think there's an
206
Esse desmascaramento na minha opinião vai ser, no final de contas, muito saudável para os Estados
Unidos. Nenhum médico pode curar um paciente sem saber do que ele realmente sofre (113)
207
Mas então Moog, nosso país stinks mesmo, hein? Precisamos conversar...Pois isto aqui também stinks o
seu bocado... Quando ouço um sulista citar a Bíblia e justificar seus sentimentos anti-negros, o sangue me
sobe à cabeça... Mas que é se vai fazer? Cultivar o nosso jardim, como sugeria o Voltaire? Não é mais
possível. Está cheio de cobras, aranhas venenosas, insetos que mordem ou chateiam. Principalmente
chateiam”...“Pedestre? Só eu. Esta gente não caminha, seu Moog. Todos mecanizados. Esta gente vai
acabar não pensando mais e entregando todo o trabalho cerebral aos computers, que eu chamo (o Dave ri)
de filhodaputers. (Verissimo 22 Aug. 1962)
175
enormous emptiness to this type of life” 208 (Verissimo 10 Apr. 1965).
Verissimo published two novels in the 1960s that addressed his changing views of
the United States: O senhor embaixador in 1965 and O prisioneiro in 1967.
Unfortunately, a close analysis of these novels falls beyond the limits of this chapter.
Renata Wasserman writes about these two novels in her own article on Verissimo and the
U.S., as does Richard Cándida Smith. The first novel, O senhor embaixador, is a
discussion of the relations between a fictional Latin American country, Sacramento, and
the United States. Like most of Verissimo's novels, it was published in English
translation in the U.S. as His Majesty the Ambassador. Smith writes of Verissimo's novel
and its reception:
He viewed the historical trends in both the United States and Latin
America as destructive and ultimately nihilistic. Instead of reform,
responsibility, and accountability, both cultures were caught up in the
vortices of violence that a politics of sheer will inevitably generated. It was
a message that confused many critics in the United States. They wanted to
see deeper criticism of their own country’s policies, not even-handed
analysis. (171)
Anyone with a knowledge of Verissimo's discussions of U.S.-Latin American relations,
especially those in the Gato Preto books would have expected nothing less than an evenhanded analysis.
O prisioneiro is a more complicated work that deals specifically with the question
of the use of torture during the Vietnam War by the U.S. military. Smith explains that it
was never published in English translation because of changes at Macmillan, the
publishing house that had handled Verissimo's work. O prisioneiro is perhaps
Verissimo's attempt in fiction to do what he managed to in the analytical dialogues that
208
Os Estados Unidos são mais o menos como tu dizias que era o filho do Aurélio: prósperos e chatos.
Acho um vazio enorme neste tipo de vida. (Verissimo 10 Apr. 1965)
176
pepper the Gato Preto books: present critiques of the United States to balance his praise.
The novel's discussion of international interventionism and racial politics in the United
States is the work of an author who cared enough about that country to portray its real
social dilemmas. It was a tool for Verissimo to process some of the disappointments that
he felt in relation to the U.S. through the 1960s. In a 1967 interview with Adolfo Braga
he states that the novel is not an anti-American work, but rather a way of exploring the
country realistically, “I'm trying to show the absurdity of the war, the problems of the
men inside that war… By choosing a black lieutenant for the role of the interrogator I
also tried include in my story the problems of men of color in the United States” 209(27).
Braga questions Verissimo on his perceived apoliticism in connection to the problems of
Brazil. The author scoffs and claims, “This is stupidity, tremendous stupidity. The people
that say this, at a certain time, wrote odes to Stalin and now regret it” (28). While
Verissimo might not have been a partisan writer, he certainly valued freedom and justice,
and when read closely, was a far more critical and courageous writer than some critics
maintained.
In 1972, three years before the author's death, a profile of the author in Jornal do
Brasil was published with the headline, “Érico Verissimo points to the U.S.A. as a model
of liberty”. In the profile he claims that the U.S., “might not be a model for anything else,
but it should be imitated in terms of liberty, freedom of speech, and respect for the
209
Procuro mostrar o absurdo da guerra da guerra e dos problemas dos homens dentro da guerra. O
Prisioneiro não é só o vietcong que plantou a bomba e que está sendo interrogado e torturado. Prisioneiros
também são todos os demais personagens e de certo modo o próprio autor do livro é igualmente um
prisioneiro. Ao escolher para o papel de inquisidor um tenente negro eu também pude incluir na minha
história o problema do homem de cor norte-americano (27)
177
Supreme Court and for Justice” 210 (45). This headline would have been controversial at
the time, given that the United States actively backed Brazil's military dictatorship, and as
such was frequently criticized by members of the intellectual elite (Moniz Bandeira's
landmark historical documentation of U.S. interference in Brazilian affairs was published
the following year). That said, when one reads the profile, Verissimo does not come
across as a clear cut supporter of the United States, and even less so of the U.S.-backed
dictatorship. He refers to government censorship of newspapers in Porto Alegre as
“idiocy,” and throughout the profile criticizes censorship of the media and of literature.
Verissimo continued his individualist approach to writing and intellectual production to
the end. In the same profile, when asked about the duty of authors to be politically
engaged he states, “I think that it's impossible to deal with today's problems and omit the
political and the social. When I say political, I don't mean party line – and people often
confuse engagement with partisanship” 211(45). Verissimo's apparently pro-American
stance should not be confused with support for repression in Brazil.
Erico Verissimo's willingness to cooperate with the Good Neighbor Policy and
the U.S. led ideology of Cold War Pan-Americanism made him appear to be aligned with
forces unpopular during and after the years of the military dictatorship. This is a pity,
because Verissimo's very intimacy with the United States created a particularly Brazilian
discussion of that country. While Verissimo was first invited to the U.S. as a goodwill
ambassador, the travelogues that resulted from these journeys of cultural diplomacy are
far from simplistic paeans to the imperial North. Throughout these books Verissimo
210
…pode não ser nenhun modelo para coisa nenhuma, mas deve ser imitado em questões de liberdade, de
direito de pronunciamento, de respeito à Corte Suprema e à Justiça (45).
211
Eu acho impossível tratar um problema de hoje omitindo o político e o social. Quando eu digo político,
eu não digo partidiário – e o pessoal confunde muito engajamento com partido (45).
178
displays an independent subjectivity shaped by his Brazilian identity. His dedication to
questioning his own works’ reliability through the introduction of varied interlocutors,
fictionalized characters, and even entire fictionalized passages, reminds the reader that
there is no travelogue that can approach an objective truth. His fascination with cinema
and frustration with formulaic storytelling and lifestyles displays a deep consciousness of
artifice in storytelling, something that can occur as much on a national propagandistic
level as it can in a novel or film. Verissimo was impressed by the prosperity, variety and
vitality that he encountered in the United States in the 1940s, but he nevertheless
managed to create travelogues that reminded readers of his and their own nationalities,
and of the ways that those nationalities played off of images projected by Uncle Sam.
What happens in the Gato Preto books is a far more complicated cultural process than
that of Disney's films such as Saludos Amigos or the The Three Caballeros, or the films
of Carmen Miranda, cultural products that are more commonly analyzed when discussing
the history of the Good Neighbor Policy years. Verissimo's works prove that the
increased contact between Brazil and the United States during the Second World War
was far less one-sided than is often portrayed. Moreover, the mere existence of these
highly successful pieces of travel narrative that emerged from the Global South
radicalizes discussions of travel literature and its role in imperial projects.
The Gato Preto books, while sharing characteristics with Freyre's youthful
crônicas and Lobato's discussions of the United States as a model for a better Brazil, are
unique in their simultaneous exuberant awe at the United States and constant exploration
of what means to be a Brazilian, above all a Brazilian who is justifying his nation's
existence in the global arena. Though Verissimo's travel narratives never again touched
179
on the United States, Myra Kingsley managed to read the stars correctly when she called
him a man with “good ideas.” His capacity to humanize and characterize a world of
strangers was unmatched, and permitted him to both share the enthusiasm that he felt for
the United States in his travelogues, and also criticize a nation that he felt was losing its
way in his later novels. Verissimo was without a doubt one of the most important
mediators between Brazil and the United States, a feat he accomplished without ever
sacrificing his own commitment to independent, pluralistic thought. The United States
was certainly admirable to him, but Verissimo would never sacrifice his Brazilian
subjectivity to it. Perhaps this independent, balanced approach to the United States was
something that only could come out of the overall tone of goodwill and curiosity that
accompanied the years of the Good Neighbor Policy. As we will see in the next chapter, a
different type of discourse around the United States would begin to emerge, as the United
States began to change during the Cold War. Verissimo's dear friend Vianna Moog,
another gaúcho who in fact traveled to the United States concurrently with Verissimo (he
is mentioned in A volta do Gato Preto) would produce a very different type of work with
his 1954 comparison of Brazilian and United States societies, Bandeirantes e pioneiros.
180
Chapter 3: A Cold War Chill: Brazil-United States Distancing in the Postwar Era
World War II looms large in the United States’ self-conception. It was the great
conflict that proved once and for all the efficacy of U.S. armed forces and consecrated the
superiority of liberal capitalist democracy over totalitarianism and fascism (although
victory in the European war rested as much on the shoulders of a communist single-party
dictatorship). This war would spawn decades worth of films, television series, novels and
a general sense that the United States had come to dominate the world. The “Greatest
Generation” had come of age and inherited the world from a devastated Europe and a
vanquished East Asia. The World War II that has entered the U.S. narrative of success
and global supremacy is a conflict where Latin America plays a minimal role, perhaps as
the shady and secretive destination of Nazi refugees. This narrative of the war, one which
focuses almost entirely on human tragedy in Europe and heroic combat in the Pacific,
does not reflect the very real engagement of Latin America by the United States during
the war years that spawned the work of Erico Verissimo analyzed in the last chapter.
If members of the Greatest Generation can recall Brazil’s role in the war, it is at
best through best comical, ludic cultural products like Carmen Miranda films, Walt
Disney’s animated tours of South and Central America and a general sense that the
strategic work of obtaining Brazilian support during the war was the “fun” part of it. At
worst, as historian Frank McCann claims in his article “Brazil and World War II: The
Forgotten Ally,” “…Brazil in some mysterious fashion has been lumped in popular
memory abroad as pro-Nazi” (1). He goes on to write, “Brazil’s image in the United
States, and presumably the rest of the world, was muddled” (1). McCann attributes this
muddling to Hollywood films such as Notorious and The Boys from Brazil (1). Even
181
when it was not dismissing Brazil’s role in the war as Nazi sympathizer, U.S. popular
culture painted a portrait of a frivolous nation that was not a serious contributor to the
war effort. The first act finale of the 1953 musical Wonderful Town, known most for
Leonard Bernstein’s catchy score, illustrates the ignorance and amnesia of Brazil’s
importance to U.S. strategic goals during the war era. While the play is set in 1935, the
postwar climate permeates “Conga,” a number in which Ruth, an aspiring and
opinionated young journalist, attempts to interview a group of Brazilian sailors about
their impressions of the United States. The cartoonish young sailors only want to learn
how to dance the conga. South-of-the-border hijinks ensue, and the first act wraps up in a
flurry of dancing with the Brazilians while Ruth all the time implores the sailors, “Good
neighbors, good neighbors, remember our policy”. Wonderful Town was based on Jerome
Chodorov’s and Joseph A. Fields’s comedic play 1940 My Sister Eileen, in turn adapted
from a series of short stories by Ruth McKenney first published in The New Yorker. The
“Conga” number was based off of the story, “Beware the Brazilian Navy,” published July
10, 1937, which will be analyzed in further detail later in this chapter. This number, with
its cartoonish portrayal of Brazilians and of U.S. policy toward Latin America before and
during the Second World War tells the tale of a United States with a positive but casually
uninterested conception of Brazil in the postwar years.
After the end of the Second World War, the United States’ deep strategic interest
in Brazil had seemed to dissipate. Fears of a global Soviet takeover led the United States
to focus its energy and more importantly its finances on war-ravaged Western Europe,
while neglecting Brazil and other Latin American countries that had benefitted from
wartime attention and investment such as the Volta Redonda steel plant in Rio de Janeiro
182
state and Parnamirim Field in Natal, Rio Grande do Norte. Joseph Smith describes
Brazilian diplomats’ resentment of this seeming lack of interest in Brazilian development
on the part of the United States:
Most of all they resented the protracted and difficult negotiations that were
required to persuade U.S. officials and bankers to give even relatively
small amounts of aid for economic development. This attitude was
repeatedly contrasted with the very generous treatment accorded by the
United States to the countries of Western Europe in what would be known
as the “Marshall Plan.” (132)
In addition to a Brazilian perception of strategic neglect on the part of an ally, there was a
seemingly paradoxical perception of excessive U.S. interference with Brazilian political
and cultural affairs due to the United States’ new Cold War identity as defender of the
liberal capitalist system against the Soviet Union. Britta Crandall sums these two
seemingly disparate perceptions of the postwar era up in her book Hemispheric Giants:
It is also important to reconcile two competing claims regarding the
United States and Brazil during this time period. Most of the literature
dealing with U.S. relations with Brazil in the postwar era has in common
the accepting that the U.S. government and private businesses penetrated
Brazil in some fashion. According to this view, actions ranging from
covert CIA involvement in Brazil to exploitative U.S. business interests
served to penetrate Brazil and meddle in all aspects of Brazilian
development. However, just as many authors claim that the United States
neglected its southern neighbor during this time. Because of the United
States’ focus on European recovery, Brazil was far from the radar screens
of the U.S. government. (88)
Crandall argues that both interpretations of United States-Brazil relations during the
postwar period are true. Brazilian intellectuals took note of this change in the dynamic
between the two countries, and throughout the postwar period there was a perceivable
change in Brazilian discourse around the United States.
This chapter aims to document this change in discourse, one which steps away
from the sense of awe and inspiration that could be observed in the writing of Adolfo
183
Caminha, Monteiro Lobato and Erico Verissimo to varying degrees. With the United
States at its peak of global power, Brazilian writers began to return to a more critical
stance about the United States, one that reflects Eduardo Prado’s and Gilberto Freyre’s
conservative skepticism more than Caminha’s and Lobato’s progress-oriented
boosterism. What was once a hemispheric partner was transforming into a domineering
power that represented a set of values at odds with the best interest of Brazil. In addition
to the transformation of relations between the two countries, Brazil’s own self-conception
was changing.
Brazil entered the 1950s as a more confident nation than it had been in the past.
Historical studies of Brazil in the twentieth century often focus on the optimism of the
postwar years, particularly during the presidency of Juscelino Kubitschek. This was the
era when Brazil emerged on the global stage in ways it had not in the first half of the
twentieth century. In the introduction to the chapter on this era in his survey of Brazilian
history, Thomas Skidmore writes, “More specifically, had the future finally arrived for
Brazil, the largest, most populous, and best-endowed country in Latin America? It was in
this optimistic climate that the Brazilian political elite confronted the postwar world”
(127). Furthermore, Brazilians no longer saw their mixed-race country as doomed to
failure in a world of white supremacy. The influence of Freyre’s writing in 1930s had, by
the 1950s, led to an intellectual climate in which Brazil’s mestiçagem was viewed as a
crucial element of the country’s identity that should be celebrated. As Marshall Eakin
comments in his own survey of Brazilian society:
While privately racial prejudice did not disappear, publicly Freyre’s view
gradually became the official vision and a basic component of the national
psyche. As the civil rights movement in the United States tore at the social
fabric of nation, Brazilians (especially the elites) congratulated themselves
184
on what they perceived as the racial harmony and lack of segregation in
their society. (127)
This self-congratulation around the topic of race relations in comparison with the United
States in the 1950s will also be analyzed later in this chapter.
The new confidence surrounding Brazil meant that Brazilian intellectuals were
ready to confront the world differently than their predecessors had. For some, this meant
an engagement with global leftist and Third Worldist tendencies while for others it led
down a more conservative, Catholic path that still stressed Brazil’s difference from the
United States and the Soviet Union. This chapter will examine the ways that Brazilian
writers of the 1950s engaged and opposed the United States through their writings about
that country. An analysis of Rachel de Queiroz’s short story “Tangerine-Girl” will
illustrate Brazilian disappointment with the United States in the postwar period, and will
also present a more leftist Brazilian perspective on the United States than that of the other
writers showcased in this chapter. Following my analysis of Queiroz’s story, I will utilize
Marcos Chor Maio’s analysis of the UNESCO project on Brazilian race relations as well
a reading of some of Gilberto Freyre’s later journalistic writings to demonstrate the new
celebration of Brazil as a society that excelled at interracial and interethnic relations. This
recognition, especially in the writings of Freyre for O Cruzeiro, presents a harsh critique
of the United States as a land of racial turmoil and intolerance. Some of Queiroz’s
influential crônicas from O Cruzeiro also display concern with the United States’
arrogance vis-à-vis Brazil in this era, and an analysis of these texts will display a more
proudly Brazilian assertion of national identity and self-worth in the Cold War world. No
examination of Brazilian analyses of the United States in the 1950s would be compete
without a closer analysis of Vianna Moog’s expansive 1954 work, Bandeirantes e
185
pioneiros. Moog’s historical essay attempts to explain the differences between Brazil and
the United States through an analysis of the two countries’ different cultural models,
which are based on differing interpretations of Christian values. Vianna Moog’s work
was an anti-Marxist embrace of Weberian philosophy, and it was in many ways
scathingly critical of Brazil. That said, he had just as many critiques for the United States,
particularly in its high capitalist Cold War-era incarnation. He saw the neuroses, the
focus on profits over spirituality and the general moral decay of the United States as
evidence of a society that had lost its position of leadership over Christendom, and he
looked to a changing Brazil as the potential source of a new approach to Western identity.
The chapter will conclude with a brief discussion of Alceu Amoroso Lima’s A
realidade americana, an essay on the United States that reads as a hybrid of Verissimo’s
Gato preto books and Moog’s comparative work. Like Verissimo and Moog, Lima
worked as a diplomat in the United States, and in fact held the same position as director
of cultural affairs at the Pan-American Union before Verissimo’s appointment. His essay
examines both the good and the bad of his host country. The transformation of Lima’s
opinions is an illustration of the power of transnational encounters in the formation of
Brazilian intellectual debates around the United States. The nature of these encounters
was changing over the course of the 1950s, a time in which the United States was closing
doors to Brazilians through its apparent neglect and more rigid visa policies at the same
time that it increased its presence in Brazilian society through cultural products and
corporate investment. While the United States may have become more prominent on the
global scene and may have been exerting more cultural, political and economic influence
on Brazil, Brazilian intellectuals were distancing themselves from the country in a more
186
explicit way than we have seen in the earlier chapters of this book. The optimism
encountered in economic and political discourses around Brazil also influenced
conceptions of relations between the two countries. Brazil was now the representative of
a more humanistic and more moral approach to Western modernity. The United States
may have appeared more successful economically and geopolitically, but Brazil still had
a soul. A close reading of “Tangerine-Girl” in comparison to “Beware the Brazilian
Navy” will illustrate this more condemnatory interpretation of the United States in the
realm of short fiction.
The Boys are in Town: Military-Civilian Encounters between Brazilians and
Americans and (de)Humanization.
As stated earlier, the “Conga” number in Wonderful Town is based on a short
story by Ruth McKenney that was first published in The New Yorker. This text is one of
many humorous stories McKenney wrote for that magazine about her sister’s adjustment
to life in New York City. In the work, McKenney describes her attempts at interviewing a
group of Brazilian sailors that transforms into a night of debauchery in Greenwich
Village. While the story is ostensibly based on real events, it is clearly a humorous
fictionalized account of McKenney’s encounter with the Brazilians. It begins with
McKenney’s explanation that these Brazilians were disappointed on arrival to New York.
Due to a heat wave there was limited pomp and circumstance:
You can imagine then the distress and disappointment of the brave lads of
the Brazilian navy when it got to be eleven o’clock on their first morning
in New York and no mayors, no little tots with bouquets, and especially no
girls who were heiresses to rubber goods fortunes had turned up to
gladden their South American hearts. (28)
187
She describes, “gorgeous future admirals,” who threw their hats in the air during, “a long
speech in that lovely romantic language of the coffee country” (28), and “winked
odiously,” when she told them, “No speakee Portuguee” (30). One of the sailors gets her
contact information and they follow her to the newspaper office where they goodnaturedly abduct her, “A Brazilian immediately seized each of my arms, and three more
Brazilians marched proudly and happily behind” (32). They eventually bring her to her
apartment where they meet her sister and go out for a night of dinner, drinks and rumba at
the Greenwich Barn. After their night out, the sisters rebuff the sailors’ advances and
spend the night in their apartment where, “We slept but fitfully, however, for the
Brazilians resorted to serenades about 4 A.M., and there seemed to be a fight in the hall
about 4:30. Things quieted down after that” (35). The sailors were never to be seen again,
McKenney surmises, “I guess they were pretty disappointed in American girls” (35).
A large component of this story’s humor is the dehumanizing caricature of the
Brazilian sailors. While these future admirals may have been gorgeous, their lack of
English language skills along with their sheer force of masculine libido transform them
into cartoonish invaders who potentially threaten the sexual propriety of these two
American girls. While it is understandable that the narrator would be flummoxed by the
sexual objectification these sailors subject her to, she herself objectifies them, and limits
attempts at communication to baby talk and the occasional line in French or German. In
this story, the Brazilian Navy is both a joke and threat to women’s propriety. Brazil is
both denied a serious place at the table due to its frivolity but also due to a certain sexual
menace. With portrayals of Brazilians like this current in the United States in the late
188
1930s, it is no surprise Verissimo needed to confront so much ignorance around his
homeland when he came as a cultural ambassador in the 1940s.
More contact between Brazil and the United States during World War II led
Brazilians to understand more acutely the ignorance of Brazil abroad. While Lobato and
Freyre mention this ignorance in their writing from the 1920s and 1930s, it is considered
less of an affront to national pride than it is in the work of Verissimo. Exposure to
Hollywood movies and other examples of U.S. culture, not to mention writings like
Verissimo’s, gave Brazilians a clearer vision of just how misunderstood they were in the
United States. This misunderstanding was of such a degree that it could perhaps be
described as dehumanization, a phenomenon poignantly illustrated by Rachel de Queiroz
in the short story “Tangerine-Girl.”
“Tangerine-Girl” was first published in 1948, three years after the end of Second
World War. By this time, Rachel de Queiroz had been a well-known columnist for
Brazil’s most read magazine, O Cruzeiro since 1944. Her crônicas on the final page of
the magazine gave her a chance to comment on politics and global events. One such
crônica, cited by Lilian Fontes in her biography of the author displays some of the
author’s ambivalence about the war and its influence on Brazilian society.
Peace had finally arrived --- although administered by drops,
slowly, as if it were news given to a heart patient. Day by day they tell us
a little bit, then deny, then go back to tell --- finally, when they gave the
confirmation, we were not shaken by an emotional disruption; Churchill’s
speech was just a solemn moment, received religiously but with neither
surprise nor cheers. 212 (140)
212
Afinal chegou a paz --- porém ministrada a gotas, devagarinho, como notícia de bilhete premiado a um
doente do coração. Dia a dia nos contavam um pouco, desmentiam, tornavam a contar --- afinal, quando
deram a confirmação, já nenhum rompante emotivo nos abalava; o discurso de Churchill foi apenas um
momento solene, religiosamente recebido, mas sem surpresa nem gritos. (140).
189
Queiroz was a dedicated observer of the emotional impact of the war on Brazilians and
the new world that the great conflict had created, and she continued her observations in
“Tangerine-Girl.” The story parallels “Beware the Brazilian Navy,” in that it portrays the
connections between Brazil and the United States via the narration of encounters between
foreign servicemen and local women. Both groups of men confront these local women as
a mere source for diversion, but the narratives accomplish something very different. Ruth
McKenney’s snarky yet authoritative journalistic voice dominates the Brazilians. She
may feel objectified by them, but she does not see them as a truly serious threat and
dismisses them whenever she can. She never individualizes any of the sailors; they are
either gorgeous future admirals or energetic winkers, but they always function as a group.
In the end, the sisters prevail and come out with a humorous story that confirms popular
suspicions about men from Latin America. “Tangerine-Girl,” on the other hand, tells the
story of a young Brazilian woman who attempts to humanize the anonymous military
forces stationed in her country only to be deeply disappointed. It is a deep meditation on
the way that United States material and popular culture became a flawed means of
communication between the two countries, as well as a portrayal of role of the
imagination in international encounters.
The story begins with a description of the blimps flying over a young woman’s
home somewhere in the rural Northeast. It is set a time described by New York Times
journalist James Brooke:
The busiest American air base in the world in the first half of 1944, the
twin strips of Parnamirim field at Natal handled a landing every three
minutes as troops and cargo were ferried across the South Atlantic to feed
campaigns in Italy, Africa, Russia, Burma and China and the looming
invasion of Normandy. (Brooke)
190
Contrary to the popular U.S. image of Brazil as absent from World War II, Parnamirim
Field was an essential factor for U.S. success during the war, as it provided the United
States with the shortest route to Africa, thus enabling the reconquest of German and
Italian-occupied North Africa and eventually the invasion of Italy. The young protagonist
is fascinated by the happenings at this base. Queiroz writes, “The first thing to interest
her was the name of airship: neither “zeppelin” nor dirigible nor anything else oldfashioned: the large bobbin of shining metal had the state-of-the-art name
blimp” 213(159). This focus on the naming of the airship from the very start of the story is
a potent reminder to the reader of the new U.S. supremacy. Blimp is an American name,
not like the German zeppelin or British dirigible. The United States has taken over as the
dominant world power, and Queiroz will critique its maladroit incipient steps as a
superpower.
One day the protagonist waves a white cloth at a blimp as it flies overhead, which
attracts the attention of a young crew member. Alone on base, “like a monk in his abbey -- alone among soldiers and patriotic exhortations,” the lonely serviceman decides to drop
a mug from the blimp as a gift to the young woman. She receives the mug and a
“morning ritual,” ensues in which the crew of the blimp shower the woman with gifts
such as magazines and a perfumed handkerchief. The protagonist creates an active
imagined relationship with her U.S. serviceman, who the reader learns is in fact a whole
base’s worth of men. She has become something of a cross between a joke and a lucky
charm for these pilots and crewmen, who all join in the courtship of the girl, who they
have christened “Tangerine-Girl”. One day they extend an invitation to her for a party on
213
De princípio a interessou o nome da aeronave: não “zepelim” nem dirigível, ou qualquer outra coisa
antiquada: o grande fuso de metal brilhante chamava-se modernissimamente blimp” (159)
191
the base. When she arrives at the party she realizes her error, that she was not engaged in
a serious courtship with the man of her dreams, and is rudely leered at by the men.
Queiroz describes this pungently, “Her love struck sailor didn’t exist --- he had never
been more than a myth of her heart. There had never been her one and only, “he” had
never been the same man. Perhaps it wasn’t even always the same blimp” 214 (163). She
writes of the men’s attitude, “…in their smile, in the cordial words that they directed at
their collective girlfriend, at the little Tangerine-Girl that was already an institution on the
base --- she only saw mockery and an insolent familiarity” 215 (163). Disappointment
overwhelms the protagonist, even if the young men on the base are unable to read it from
her reaction due to their own disinterest in “those psychological nuances” (163). She
runs off and cries alone at home, never again accepting the Air Force’s gifts, leaving
them for local boys to gather from time to time.
Queiroz’s story metaphorically and emotionally expresses the author’s
impressions of the relationship between Brazil and the United States. It is a story rich in
symbolic language and characterization. Like her emphasis on the word “blimp” to
describe the airship, she takes pains to portray the novelty of the United States’ ascent as
a global power. She describes the youth of the men on the base, who have “beardless
faces,” and “childlike smiles.” The United States is a young superpower, and in its youth
it manifests carelessness in its interactions with Brazil. The World War II-era presented
an enthusiasm on the part of the United States to be a “Good Neighbor” and take more of
a leading role in the region, but this came with a lack of forethought or sensitivity to the
214
Não existia o seu marinheiro apaixonado --- nunca fora ele mais do que um mito do seu coração. Jamais
houvera um único, jamais “ele” fora o mesmo. Talvez nem sequer o próprio blimp fosse o mesmo (163)
215
…no sorriso deles, nas palavras cordiais que dirigiam à namorada coletiva, à pequena Tangerine-Girl,
que já era uma instituição da base --- só viu escárnio, familiaridade insolente (163).
192
Brazilians themselves. This youthful enthusiasm for a seemingly new form of
international imperialism is reflected in Queiroz’s commentary on the use of the innocent
word amigo. When the protagonist receives her invitation to the party, it incorporates a
few words of Portuguese, most prominently, “Amigo, which is the Americans’ password
when dealing with us” 216(162). The servicemen feel that their friendly intentions are
enough to instill confidence and acceptance among the Brazilians that surround them.
Despite linguistic limitations, amigo exists as a form of shorthand to reassure the locals
that the military is working with their best intentions at heart. As McKenney mocks the
Brazilian sailors for their lack of English-language skills and claims that lascivious winks
are their universal language, so Queiroz calls into question the friendly intentions of the
word amigo in relations between the U.S. servicemen and their Brazilian hosts. Where
Queiroz improves on McKenney is in the humanization of these U.S. sailors. The sailors
that antagonize Ruth and her sister Eileen are sexually rampant buffoons whose lack of
communications skills makes them less human. The crewmember of the blimp, on the
other hand, at least in the imagination of the “Tangerine-Girl,” has a heart. Queiroz
writes, “Up above the crewman was thinking as well --- not of saudades because he
didn’t know Portuguese, but of something else deep and sweet, because, even though he
can’t speak our language, the American soldier still has a heart” 217 (161). Even if Queiroz
herself is being ironic about the humanity of these Americans, her protagonist still
216
Amigo, que é a palavra de passe dos americanos entre nós. (162)
217
Lá de cima, o tripulante pensava também --- não em saudades, que ele não sabi português, mas em
qualquer coisa pungente e doce, porque, apesar de não falar nossa língua, soldado Americano também tem
coração (161).
193
manages to see them as humans, unlike the narrator of McKenney’s story who sees the
Brazilian sailors as physically attractive nuisances who impede her professional goals.
Examples of metaphoric work in Queiroz’s story include the descriptions of the
gifts that rain down on the “Tangerine-Girl” from the blimp. As has been discussed by
Moniz Bandeira, Antônio Tota and Erico Verissimo, among others, some of the most
important U.S. investment and interference in Brazil during both the war and postwar
years came through cultural imports. In addition to the first gift of a white ceramic mug,
the crewmen begin to shower the “Tangerine-Girl” with magazines and fashionable
scarves. These gifts are much like the issues of Reader’s Digest, popular music and
cinema that was becoming very popular in Brazil throughout the World War II era and
exhaustively researched by Tota. In fact, the gifts of the servicemen are not the
protagonist’s first encounters with these elements of U.S. culture. When she imagines
what her new lover may look like, she sees film stars of the era, “ She loaned her sailor
the form of all the leading men that she saw on the screen, and, in succession, he was
Clark Gable, Robert Taylor or Cary Grant” 218(161). In a 2011 article analyzing
“Tangerine-Girl,” Liane Schneider comments on U.S. popular culture’s transformation of
young Brazilians’ mentality during this era:
This youth suffers clear cultural and emotional influences that don’t only
come from the skies. Via the flights of the dirigible, but also via the
cinema and music which invaded the living rooms of the country, perhaps
the two strongest influences or interferences by North America that
marked local culture…Through contact with film, music and radio
programming, groups of young people created a process of strong
218
Emprestava ao seu marinheiro as figuras de todos os galas que via na tela, e sucessivamente ele era
Clark Gable, Robert Taylor ou Cary Grant. (161)
194
identification with U.S. culture…the imaginary of the Brazilian citizen
was exposed to other forms of imagining social life. 219(118)
Like the protagonist in Verissimo’s “Alô Gangster!,” discussed in the last chapter, who is
only disappointed by his attempt at internalizing U.S. culture, the Tangerine-Girl is
deceived by her imagined relation with this culture.
In addition to the media products gaining mass consumption in the Brazilian
market, there were more concrete pieces of economic infrastructure, like the airfield
itself. It is interesting that of all the gifts the protagonist receives from the blimp the one
that is most precious to her is the white ceramic mug. This mug was the first gift selected
by the crewman, one that he tried to throw from the blimp with care, as Queiroz
describes, “With the aim that the object did not arrive whistling to earth as a projectile,
but softly, as an offering” 220(160). This carefully selected and thoughtfully presented gift
of a mug reminds the reader of infrastructural development assistance offered by the
United States to Brazil in exchange for wartime allegiance. These developmental projects
could be “Brazilianized” in some way, just as the “Tangerine-Girl,” does with her mug,
which she fills with native flowers. Queiroz paints a lovely image of this repurposing of
the original gift:
One day she had a better idea and the ceramic mug began to serve as a
flower vase. Just a branch of manacá, a bogari , gardenia, some small
219
Essa jovem sofre clara influência cultural e emocional que não vem apenas dos céus. Via sobrevoos do
dirigível, mas também via o cinema e a música que invadem as salas do país, talvez as duas mais fortes
influências ou interferências da América do Norte que marcavam a cultural local…
Através de contatos com filmes, músicas, programas de radio, grupos de jovens criam um processo de
identificação forte com a cultura estadunidense…o imaginário do cidadão brasileiro também passa a ser
exposto a outras formas e de imaginação da vida social (118).
220
A fim que o objeto não chegasse sibilante como projétil, mas suavemente, como dádiva (160).
195
roses, since the rustic garden of the country house had neither important
roses nor expensive flowers” 221 (161)
These flowers, particularly manacá and bogari are distinctly Brazilian plants. While the
“Tangerine-Girl”’s Brazilian garden may not have been filled with expensive or
important flowers, she was still able to assemble them into a bouquet that complemented
the U.S. material gifts from the blimp. Through the imagery of the mug and its Brazilian
contents, Queiroz allows the reader to imagine a relationship between Brazil and the
United States on Brazilian terms. When the young woman learns the true nature of this
relationship, her pain destroys her illusions about the nature of this connection, even if
the young boys from her farm continue to take the gifts. She has received the truth about
her powerlessness in the relationship, which has transformed her.
The question of power and powerlessness is a fundamental difference between
Queiroz’s and McKenney’s stories. McKenney’s narrator is in control of her interaction
with the Brazilian sailors. Even if they do abduct her and embark on their chaotic
adventure through the Village, she never allows them to fulfill their libidinous desires
with her and her sister. As the American on her home turf with a native command of the
language, Ruth is able to prevail in her encounter with Brazil and laugh off the Brazilians
as part of the bargain. The Tangerine-Girl, although she is also in her native soil, has no
power in her encounter except for the power to reject the servicemen. Schneider
comments, “…we only know the protagonist through her ‘foreign baptism’, and we are
221
Um dia teve idéia melhor e a caneca de louça passou a servir de vaso de flores. Um galho de manacá,
um bogari, um jasmim-do-cabo, uma rosa-menina, pois no jardim rústico da casa de campo não havia rosas
importantes nem flores caras (161).
196
never informed of her real name” 222(117), and it is true that we only learn aspects of her
personality that are influenced by her relationship with the Americans. Schneider also
remarks:
One can perceive the relationship established vertically between these
participants. She is below, in the zone of the non rational, instinct, the
feminine, the receptive and passive, while the zeppelin, a machine that
belongs to the sphere of new technologies with their great trailblazing
capacity, is in fact more tuned in with the phallic, the mobile, with that
which penetrates the space of the other. 223(121)
The mere physical positioning of the character reinforces a model of superiority and
inferiority.
As Schneider posits, just as “Tangerine-Girl” portrays a power imbalance based
on geopolitics, it also delves into gender-based power imbalances. It is impossible not to
take gender and sexual mores into account in a reading of either this story or “Beware the
Brazilian Navy.” In both stories, the female protagonists convey a palpable sense of
dread that their reputations may be compromised by their encounters with foreign
servicemen. In the Tangerine-Girl’s case, her realization that her American sweetheart is
in fact a large group of men violates her own values system. Schneider comments on the
way that this situation affects the protagonist’s own honor within the traditional
Northeastern system of gender roles:
In the period in which this tale is set, the end of 1940s, the distinctions
between masculine and feminine spaces were quite rigid. There were also
222
…conhecemos a protagonista apenas através desse “batismo estrangeiro”, nunca nos sendo informado
seu verdadeiro nome” (117).
223
Pode-se perceber uma relação verticalmente estabelecida entre as partes --- ela estando abaixo, na zona
do não-racional, dos intintos, do feminine, do receptive e passive, enquanto o zepelim, máquina que
pertence às esferas das novas tecnologias, com grande capcidade desbravadora, estaria de fato, mais
afinado com o fálico, com o móvel, com o que penetra o espaço do outro (121).
197
clear spaces for marriage-oriented family girls and girls of loose morals,
with whom some sexual liberties could be taken. 224(122)
On the other hand, while the protagonists of McKenney’s story fear sexual assault, the
portrayal of the Brazilian sailors as clownish predators ensures their fault. The
“Tangerine-Girl,” would be condemned if people learned that she had been involved in
romantic liaisons with multiple American servicemen. The story itself refers to girls who
have had such encounters. When the protagonist realizes her error she thinks, “They
surely thought that she too was one of those young things that have indiscriminate flings
with sailors…they surely thought that…My God!” 225(163). The character is horrified that
the sailors think she is the wrong kind of girl. On the other hand, at the end of “Beware
the Brazilian Navy,” even if the sailors ended up, “a little disappointed with American
girls,” the narrator and her sister were able to control their narrative and control this
encounter.
The protagonist of Queiroz’s story has little agency in her relations with the crew
of the blimp. Her active imaginary of her relationship with these men has no influence on
the eventual sad resolution of their encounter, perhaps because it is composed on the
terms of the outsider. These servicemen use her as an object of wish-fulfillment and
simultaneously deny her humanity as an individual. The encounter is one of both neglect
and interference. Her dreams and wishes have been strongly influenced by the gifts of her
American G.I.s, but they are not to be fulfilled. This encounter has, on the other hand, led
the other character to rethink her own identity. Schneider writes, “It’s worth mentioning
224
No período em que a estória se passa, final dos anos quarenta, as distinções entre os lugares destinados
ao masculino e feminino eram bastante rígidas. Havia também lugares claros para moças de família,
casadoiras, e moças levianas,com quem poderiam ocorrer algumas liberdades sexuais. (122)
225
Decerto pensavam que ela era também uma dessa pequenas que namoram os marinheiros de passagem,
quem quer que seja..decerto pensavam...Meu Deus do Céu!” (163)
198
that if there is an identity dislocation in this story, it is that achieved by the young
protagonist, who rethinks her identity through what she learns from the other” 226(121).
The Tangerine-Girl’s decision to sever engagement with the blimp’s crew, even as they
continue to shower her with gifts, is a limited reclaiming of agency. It is no longer her
responsibility to be a friend to the Americans, to wave her white flag at them. The
combination of interference and neglect that she has experienced from the servicemen,
one which reflects the two main interpretations of postwar United States-Brazil relations
discussed by Britta Crandall, has led her to regret her initial welcome. She does not end
the story actively fighting the Americans, but once she realizes the way that her
relationship with them has changed her and led her to disappointment, she does resist. An
examination of Brazilian discourses of race from 1950s will illustrate just how Brazilian
intellectuals not only resisted, but also presented an alternative model, albeit flawed, to
the U.S. cultural hegemony of the day.
Brazil as Role-Model: Self-Congratulation and Critique of the United States in the
1950s
The comparison between the United States and Brazil and their level of humanism
that is evident in “Tangerine-Girl,” (not to mention other texts analyzed in this thesis like
those of Eduardo Prado, Freyre and Verissimo) is particularly present in discussions of
race relations in the 1950s. After Freyre’s revolutionary publication of Casa grande e
senzala in the 1930s, the discussion of an alternative and ostensibly more humane
Brazilian approach to race relations became central to discussions of national identity,
both in Brazil and abroad. In 1951, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Relations published
226
Vale mencionar que, se há um deslocamento identitário neste conto, este é aquele realizado pela jovem
protagonista, que repensa sua identidade através do que apreende do Outro. (121)
199
a short study by an American researcher named Eugene Gordon entitled An Essay on
Race Amalgamation that painted a flattering image of race relations in Brazil vis-à-vis the
United States. None other than Freyre himself wrote the foreword for this pamphlet, and
he himself expresses a great deal of pride:
To a Brazilian who has long been concerned with studying the formation
of his people in the light of a social process of interpenetration of cultures,
regions and classes, inseparable from the process of racial amalgamation,
the fact that in countries like the United States, young researchers are
turning with sympathy to the once alarming “Brazilian solution,” is a
matter of particular interest. (5)
He repeats himself at the end of this foreword, where he stresses the idea of Brazil as a
role model:
In a world that seeks to avoid the effects of rigid antagonisms dividing it
into irreconcilable social or ethnic groups, the “Brazilian solution”, as
regarded by this young man from the University of California with the eye
of a North American enlightened by sociological studies, becomes of
greater importance day by day as an experiment and perhaps as an
example to be followed. (6)
Far from being a nation whose intellectuals were ashamed by the large nonwhite
population, Brazil had become a potential model for the rest of the world, at least in the
view of its Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Thomas Skidmore comments on this pamphlet in
Black into White, where he claims it illustrates the climax of the ideology of Brazil as a
racial democracy (209). He writes, “Since the publication was issued in English by the
Ministry of Foreign Relations, and included a foreword by Gilberto Freyre, there could
be little doubt that it was intended to promote a favorable Brazilian image abroad” (209).
That said, the pamphlet, or at least Freyre’s foreword, did indeed reach a Brazilian
audience. In 1951, he published a version of his foreword in the widely read Cruzeiro
magazine (already mentioned in this chapter’s discussion of Rachel de Queiroz’s
200
influential crônicas), Freyre’s text’s brief focus on the author’s “North American eyes,”
takes on further significance when one knows that this text was intended not only for
foreign, but also Brazilian readers. Freyre displays his understanding of United States
dominance at this point in the history, and therefore uses Gordon’s status as a North
American scholar to vouch for his own interpretation of Brazil as one that not only bears
the stamp of foreign approval, but that even serves as an inspiration to a world reeling
from the genocidal violence of the Second World War.
Gordon’s essay is something of a summary of Freyre’s writing, with ample space
dedicated to a thorough description of the indigenous peoples of Brazil, the enslaved
Africans and the Portuguese themselves. In his introduction, Gordon incorporates a
strong critique of the United States itself. He mocks the hypocrisy inherent in the U.S.
system:
But with the broad democratic superstructure derived mainly from our
English antecedents, we have inherited a social philosophy idealistically
subscribed to by most of our people, but practiced by painfully few. The
living fact of social inequality stands mocking us, each time we mouth
such fine, empty words as “Freedom”, “Equality” or “Liberty” (9).
He furthermore goes on to compare the United States negatively with its great postwar
rival, the Soviet Union, and claims that the United State will be unable to effectively
argue its moral superiority over its rival with its record on race relations. He writes, “It is
very difficult to explain away “Jim Crow” and “Restricted” housing and social
organization based on some mythical superiority concept to a nation that is founded on a
strictly equalitarian basis” (10). In a time when the moral opposition between the United
201
States and the Soviet Union was a major element of Cold War policy, Gordon’s argument
is a particularly strong condemnation. 227
It was not just Itamaraty that believed in Brazil as a positive role model for race
relations. The United Nations also showed interest in the Brazilian approach to race
relations, as exemplified by the famous UNESCO study of race relations in Brazil in the
early 1950s. The study was designed as an effort to better understand the mechanics of
race relations in Brazil in comparison with the United States and other countries with
multiracial populations. This study is considered by scholars like Marcos Chor Maio to
be of importance both for its role in the foundation for Brazilian social sciences and for
its contribution to an understanding of the very real racism that occurred in Brazil. The
work of Brazilian sociologists galvanized by the UNESCO project did as much as
Freyre’s work to trigger conversations about race in Brazil, albeit with a very different
ideological result.
227
Eugene Gordon may have himself been a figure of note. In the foreword to the pamphlet, Freyre simply
describes its author as “a student of the University of California.” A quick search for other works by
Eugene Gordon turns up the work of a prominent Black journalist and author in the United States. While I
was unable to turn up firm evidence that this journalist was indeed the author of the pamphlet, the pamphlet
is indeed included among Gordon’s archives at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in
New York City. Furthermore, research into the journalist’s life builds more of a case that he is indeed the
author of Itamaraty’s pamphlet. According to an entry by Donna Halper in Harlem Rennaisance Lives,
Eugene Gordon was born in 1891 in Florida and raised in New Orleans, after studying at Harvard and
Boston University he became a journalist, writing for a wide variety of publications. In the 1930s, he
became a member of Communist Party and, “by 1935 …wrote exclusively for publications identified with
the Communist Party” (225). He resided in Moscow during this period and wrote for Moscow Daily News.
He was impressed with what he perceived to be a lack of color prejudice in the Soviet Union. Gordon
returned to the United States and continued a reporting career that exposed racial injustice in the United
States. Halper writes, “Had Gordon not become an active member of the Communist Party, he may have
been remembered as a pioneering journalist, one of the first African Americans to attain the position of
editor at a white newspaper, a respected media critic, and editor of an acclaimed literary journal” (225).
While there is no evidence that Gordon ever studied in California, the essay’s sympathetic discussion of the
Soviet Union and critique on race relations in the United States could point in the direction that this
pamphlet was indeed authored by the same historically significant journalist. For the time being, this
connection must remain speculative.
202
Beyond its importance in building the base for a new international conversation
on race in Brazil, the UNESCO study was a point of national pride for the Brazilian
government, for Brazilian intellectuals, and for Brazilian elites. While the findings of the
study may have problematized the supposed harmony that was admired from afar, the
admiration in and of itself had given Brazil intellectual weight. In an article published in
Portuguese Literary and Cultural Studies, Marcos Chor Maio comments on these
paradoxical elements of the UNESCO project:
This image of a “racial paradise,” in contrast with the persistently
turbulent North American experience, was also connected with the fears of
the Brazilian elites [Chor Maio explains the fears of perpetual
underdevelopment linked to an allegedly inferior racial makeup already
discussed in this thesis] …Due to Brazil’s economic, social and political
transformations, and also because of the importance given in intellectual
circles to the precise identification of the country’s national identity, the
pessimistic view about the contributions of the founding races was
preempted by a positive perspective. In this view, Brazil’s racial mix was
seen as an indicator of tolerance and harmony, and as a positive and
unique feature of the country’s national identity. (53)
While Brazil was a nation with a long history of racialist thought among the elite as well
as a sense of inferiority on the global stage, the recent developments in discourse of
national identity brought about by Freyre’s work had led to a new valorization of Brazil’s
mixed-race identity. When the international community also began to recognize this
work, it led to an encounter of great symbolic power. Chor Maio writes:
In the 1950s, the stakes were higher: the portrait of Brazil to be given to
UNESCO, the assertion of national uniqueness, of the country’s cultural
specificity translated by positive racial interactions, would serve as the
best way to assimilate Brazil into the modern world. This meant that there
would be a quid pro quo --- access for Brazilians to education, to science,
to development. (57)
The two essential elements of this project that Chor Maio points out here are the
collaboration of Brazilian social scientists with foreign experts and the transfer of
203
knowledge, in this case of race relations, from Brazil to the “modern world.” Mr. Slang
and Monteiro Lobato would be amazed that Brazil finally was receiving recognition for
something (even if it was the approach to race relations that left Lobato so ill at ease).
It should come as no surprise then, that in another of Freyre’s articles for O
Cruzeiro from 1953, entitled, “O Brasil: democracia étnica,” he responds to new research
that he attributes to U.S. researchers invited as part of the UNESCO Project that had
documented racial prejudice in Brazil. He continues to defend his image of Brazil as an
“ethnic democracy” (the phrase used by Freyre instead of “racial democracy” in these
columns from the 1950s) by once again critiquing the United States. He agrees that Brazil
is far from perfect in its approach to relations between races and even admits that there is
indeed racial prejudice in Brazil (though he reiterates that he believes this racial prejudice
is rooted in class-based prejudices). Freyre then goes to claim that Brazil is an ethnic
democracy in the way that Switzerland is a social democracy, the United States is a
political democracy, or Europe is a Christian civilization. These all may be ideal
projections of these societies, but they do not always embody everything that this ideal
entails in praxis:
As for the United States, all those who know the great Republic from up
close know that political democracy there is compromised, damaged and
at times even annulled by a series of repercussions on political life from
the profound inequalities of the economic and social level---not to mention
those of specifically ethnic character---that still divide the North
Americans of the United States. Even so, there is a general consensus that
considers the illustrious Republic to be a political democracy. And it
certainly is, even with all of its imperfections 228. (“O Brasil…” 44)
228
Quanto aos Estados Unidos, todos os que conhecem de perto a grande Republica sabem que a
democracia política é ali comprometida, prejudicada e às vezes até anulada por uma série de repercussões,
sobre a vida política, das profundas desigualdades de ordem econômica e de natureza social---para não
falar nas de caráter específicamente étnico---que ainda dividem os norte-americanos dos Estados Unidos.
Entretanto, há um acordo geral em que se considere a ilustre República uma democracia política. E ela
certamente o é com todas as suas imperfeições. (“O Brasil…” 44)
204
If the United States, a democracy that Freyre claims is far from perfect, can be considered
a global model of political democracy, Brazil can then be the preeminent global model
for ethnic democracy. He concludes this article with the claim, “It is the case of Brazil, as
an ethnic democracy, to become an example not only for India but for the United States,
not only for Peru but perhaps for the Soviet Union: which is maybe the only large nation
that today even approaches Brazil as an ethnic democracy” 229(44). It is noteworthy that
he compares Brazil not only to other third world countries, but to the two global
superpowers of the era, and it is even more noteworthy that he praises the Soviet Union at
this peak of Cold War division, thus reflecting Eugene Gordon’s assertions from 1951. In
this article he praises and condemns the United States, while also praising the Soviet
Union, and above all praising his own conception of his homeland as a model for even
the great nations of the world. One can view Freyre’s resistance to the discussion of racial
prejudice in Brazil at this time as a reflection of the nationalist discourses that were
current, discourses that he helped to develop and that found a way for Brazil to claim a
sense of global superiority.
This new recognition as a kind of racial paradise, even at a global policy level,
helped feed the enthusiasm and optimism of the Second Republic period, and also gave
Brazil a chance to distance itself from the United States, at least intellectually. The
strength of this symbolism, and of Freyrean ideology on race in Brazil, has been
remarkably difficult to break down despite decades of study on and struggle over racism
in Brazil. Chor Maio remarks on Florestan Fernandes’s comments made in 1959, in the
229
É o caso do Brasil que, como democracia étnica, chega a ser um exemplo não só para a União Indiana
como para os Estados Unidos, não só para o Peru como talvez para a própria União Soviética: porventura a
única grande nação de hoje que se aproxima ao Brasil como democracia étnica (44).
205
preface to Fernando Henrique Cardoso and Octavio Ianni’s work on racism and social
mobility in Florianopolis:
However, Florestan observed with sadness that society in general was not
paying attention to the significance of such research projects. He attributed
this lack of attention to the generalized belief that Brazil lived under the
aegis of a “racial democracy.” Thus, the ideology of a Brazilian “racial
democracy” is an obstacle to the emergence of a new type of mentality
capable of channeling efforts in the direction of an industrial society,
democratic both in political and in social terms. (60)
The remarks of Aldo Rebelo in the recent controversy over Monteiro Lobato’s work as
part of the school curriculum, cited in the first chapter of this thesis are evidence that the
influence of Freyre on the comparison between Brazil and the United States in the field
race relations remains strong. To admit that there is a racism problem in Brazil is to deny
the nation’s superiority over the United States, at least in this area.
Skidmore himself comments on the way the discourse of racial democracy
became such an essential aspect of Brazil’s moral positioning on the global stage. He
claims in Black into White that views like those expressed by Freyre and in Gordon’s
pamphlet were quickly becoming outdated given the rapidly changing state of race
relations in the United States:
In fact, however, the pamphlet was a voice from the past. The early 1950’s
marked the end of the era when the Brazilian opinion-makers were able to
use the whitening ideal both to reassure themselves about their racial
future and to establish claim to a morally superior solution to the race
problem. (209)
He goes on to explain how, throughout the 1950s, and even more so in the 1960s and
1970s, it became more difficult for Brazilians to defend their nation’s record on race
relations as superior to that of the United States because of the United States’ incipient
206
and slow-moving but concerted efforts to remedy institutional racism through law. In
Skidmore’s own words from 1974:
The North Americans have embarked on a social experiment the
Brazilians never contemplated: the active promotion --- with government
funds, laws, and personnel --- of equal opportunity. All this in the name of
social justice --- a realm in which the Brazilians, as we have seen in
numerous writings and speeches, long considered themselves superior.
(212)
While Skidmore sees mid-century (and later) Brazilian claims of the moral high ground
in terms of race relations as anachronistic, these claims have continued to be a defining
element of discourses comparing Brazil and United States. While the 1950s may have
marked the start of pivotal time of change in the United States, Brazilian discussions of
that country did not frequently take into account these legislative and societal changes,
and when they did they often viewed them negatively.
Gilberto Freyre himself was a vocal opponent to the type of legalistic approach to
ending structural racism that the United States was about to embrace. One 1952 article
from Cruzeiro entitled “Raça, preconceito e polícia,” is a critique of the Afonso Arinos
Law of 1951, which prohibited racial discrimination in public places. Freyre claims that
legal solutions are not effective ways of combating social problems, and uses his own
firsthand experience with the prohibition of alcohol in the United States as an example.
He concludes by making a scathing argument that Brazil does not need laws that police
race relations.
If Brazil is, for all its deficiencies, an ethnic democracy that contrasts, in
this particular area, with the South of the United States and especially with
South Africa, one which dismisses, without immodesty, lessons from Miss
Josephine Baker and other colored Misses who represent a people headed
toward terrible crises of social maladjustment, it is not the result of severe
laws against color-based prejudice that the Portuguese and their
descendants let gain a foothold here. It is the result of the tendency, of the
207
inclination, of a certain national spirit---the Portuguese---sharpened and
developed in this part of the Americas through powerful environmental and
social circumstances. (“Raça...”34) 230
The Afonso Arinos Law was in part passed in response to African-American dancer
Katherine Dunham’s experience with racial prejudice in a Brazilian hotel (which explains
Freyre’s harsh critique of Josephine Baker and other black Misses). Freyre’s hostile
dismissal of Dunham’s concerns as representative of a less-evolved approach to race
relations displays a perhaps misguided concern with the imposition of U.S. values on
Brazilian society. Freyre does not see the Anglophone world, exemplified by the excesses
and turmoil of the U.S. South or South Africa, as a worthy role-model for Brazil, which he
views as the best possible role model for race or (ethnic) relations in the postwar world.
It is not only in Freyre’s writing that one can encounter resistance to legal
measures against racism in postwar Brazil. In the minutes to the parliamentary debate over
the inclusion of laws against racial prejudice in the Constitution of 1946 (Brazil’s fifth,
and the governing document of the Second Republic), immediately after the end of the
Estado Novo and the Second World War, one can already observe this type of comparison
between Brazil and the United States. In these debates Hamilton Nogueira, who had
presented an amendment that would explicitly prohibit racial discrimination (much like
the later Afonso Arinos law did), claims that this amendment would not be a mere
redundancy of all Brazilians’ equality before the eyes of law, but would be, “one more
guarantee for individual rights which have always been bypassed. Which establish a truly
230
Se o Brasil é, com todas as deficiências, uma democracia étnica que contrasta, neste particular, com o
Sul dos Estados Unidos e, principalmente com a União Sul-Africana, e dispensa, sem imodéstia, lições de
Miss Josephine Baker e outras misses de côr, esta sua superioridade sobre povos que caminham para crises
terríveis de desajustamento social, não resulta de leis severas que os portugueses e seus descendentes
tenham feito vigorar aqui contra o preconceito de cor. Resulta de toda uma tendência, de toda uma
inclinação, de todo um gênio nacional ---o lusitano--- aguçado e desenvolvido nesta parte da América por
circunstâncias poderás de meio e de situação social” ( Raca...34)
208
democratic document 231” (Brazil 411). Eduardo Duvivier responds, “These restrictions
and details can be understood when they are dealing with results of an earlier struggle, but
for us, and to Brazil’s credit, there have never been racial questions”
232
(411). Later in the
debate, when Nogueira points out the presence of such legislation in the United States,
Mário Masagão responds, “We are not legislating for the United States of North America,
but for Brazil” 233 (412). Beyond the realm of academic tomes and journalistic opinion
pages, the positive comparison of Brazil to the United States in race relations was
influencing political debate. In the opinion of Masagão and Duvivier, Brazil did not need
legislation like the United States because it was different, and in the view of some
important taste (and law) makers, superior.
What can be seen from the examination of these types of comparisons is a change in
the position of the United States vis-à-vis Brazil in Brazilian intellectual discussions.
Freyre was now interpreting the United States as a multi-faceted power that needed to be
checked. The heyday of Europe had come to an end, and, much like Britta Crandall’s
observations on the United States’s simultaneous neglect of and interference in Brazil,
Brazilian intellectuals were in the process of simultaneously re-approximating and
distancing themselves from the new global superpower. These writers were in the search
of a way to include Brazil in this new world order as a society distinct from the United
States, but nevertheless one that is also positioned to guide the future. In another one of
Freyre’s Cruzeiro articles he discusses Joaquim Nabuco’s interpretations of the United
231
Não se trata de uma redundância, e, sim apenas de mais uma garantia para os direitos individuais que
são sempre burlados. Devemos estabelecer uma Carta realmente democrática (411).
232
Compreendem-se essas restrições, esses detalhes, quando eles traduzem um estado de luta anterior. Entre
nós, para felicidade do Brasil nunca houve questões de raças
233
Não estamos legislando para os Estados Unidos da América do Norte, mas para o Brasil. (412).
209
States in light of a soon-to-be published book on that country by the renowned statesman’s
daughter Carolina. He writes of the elder Nabuco’s lessons for Brazil about the United
States:
[Lessons] That it was to the United States that the seat of modern
civilization was being transferred. That Brazil was more a part of this new
system of civilization than it was a part of an exclusively European model.
That we could contribute to this new system with the Neo-Latin values that
formed us rather than simply enrich and strengthen ourselves by absorbing
useful examples and necessary techniques from the United States. (Um
livro…10) 234
He goes on to praise Carolina’s book, which shows both the highs and lows of U.S.
civilization, and ends his article by imploring that his Brazilian readers do the most they
can to inform themselves of the United States through books like Carolina Nabuco’s. He
reminds his readers of their role in this new global system, “It is a system to which we
cannot maintain ourselves touristically alien, since it is a system to which we belong. To
which we are partners” 235(Um livro…10)
In a 1950 article in which he discusses the growth of Luso-Brazilian studies in the
United States, a topic that interested him since his Diário de Pernambuco crônicas, he
reiterates that Brazil and Portugal present necessary lessons for the United States, above
all about new ways of creating Christian civilization. He makes the messianic (and
imperialist) claim:
Since Portugal --- not only in Europe but also in the islands and in Africa
–- and Brazil are not fully realized peoples but peoples in the process of
234
para os Estados Unidos estava rapidamente transferindo a sede da civilização moderna, por exemplo.
Que desse novo sistema de civilizaçãoo Brasil fazia parte mais do que do exclusivamente europeu. Que
para esse sistema novo podíamos contribuir com os valores neolatinos de nossa formação e não apenas nos
enriquecer e nos fortalecer assimilando dos Estados Unidos exemplos úteis e técnicas necessárias ao nosso
desenvolvimento” (Um livro..)
235
É um sistema a que não podemos nos conserver turisticamente estranhos, pois é um sistema de que
somos parte. De que somos sócios” (Um livro…)
210
realization. Peoples who are still fertile and who are still fertilizing. Still
near-virgin areas to Christian civilization will receive or have just begun
to receive this influence --- the Christian influence --- through Brazil and
Portugal 236 (“Estudos...”10)
Brazil and Portugal, a nation that had become more and more the focus of Freyre’s
discussions in the 1950s with the prominence of his Lusotropical discourse, were
therefore just as important a part of global modernization as the United States. With such
a strong sense of national mission current in Brazil during the 1950s, it is understandable
that Brazilian intellectuals could be very sensitive to the United States’ shows of force
and lack of regard for Brazil.
Within the pages of O Cruzeiro during the same time period, Rachel de Queiroz
also contributed to these discussions of Brazil’s role in a Western World dominated by
the United States. Queiroz was as well-known for her crônicas as she was for her novels,
and it was through her wide-reaching publication in O Cruzeiro that she consecrated her
position in the world of Brazilian letters. Several of Queiroz’s crônicas from this period
further reiterate the messages she lays out in “Tangerine-Girl.” Some of her crônicas that
criticize the United States involve specific events like the execution of Sacco and
Vanzetti and the blacklisting of Charlie Chaplin. Others dialogue with other Brazilian
intellectuals like Alceu Amoroso Lima, whose A realidade americana will be analyzed at
the end of this chapter. In the crônicas about Sacco and Vanzetti (1948) and Chaplin
(1952), she specifically lays out criticisms of the United States that dismantle some of the
admiration that Brazilian readers may have felt. She considers the execution of Sacco and
Vanzetti one of the marking atrocities of her upbringing. Queiroz had been an active
236
Pois Portugal---que não é apenas o da Europa mas o das ilhas e o da África--- e o Brasil não são hoje
povos já realizados mas em processo de realização. Povos ainda fecundos e ainda fecundantes. Áreas ainda
quase virgens de civilização crista vão receber, ou apenas começam a recber, esta influência---a cristã--através do Brasil e de Portugal. (“Estudos…” 10)
211
member of the Brazilian Communist Party in her youth. For the young Queiroz, the
Sacco and Vanzetti affair represented the rigidity and injustice of the U.S. system: “The
majority of evidence presented against the accused during the trial was later refuted---and
not even this mattered to the disgraceful ones. In the end---the Puritans of Boston would
say---were they or were they not enemies of the established order, dangerous
anarchists”
237
(“Sacco…” 51). Queiroz strongly condemns the unjust treatment of the
Italian-American anarchists by the legal system of the United States, but she also takes
pains to condemn other atrocities that would follow during the 1930s and 1940s, such as
the Spanish Civil War, Stalin’s purges, and the bloodletting of the Second World War.
Rather than resting on a pedestal above such horrors, Queiroz includes the United States
in this overall narrative of injustice and tragedy that had plagued the world in recent
decades.
After the blacklisting of Charlie Chapin, Queiroz’s critique of the United States in
her crônicas becomes more pungent. Chaplin’s banning from the United States was an
event that profoundly affected many Latin American intellectuals, including the Brazilian
poet Carlos Drummond de Andrade and Chilean Nobel Laureate Pablo Neruda, who
complained of the United States’ treatment of Chaplin in a letter cited in the previous
chapter of this thesis. Queiroz was also distressed by Chaplin’s blacklisting and strongly
questions the United States’ moral authority for having engaged in such an act, “The
confession of insecurity, terror, stupidity, blind fear and humbugism that this attitude
[toward Chaplin] conveys is terrible! The Russians must be laughing: as if [the
237
A maioria das provas apresentadas contra os acusados durante o julgamento foram depois refutadas --- e
nem isso valeu de nada aos desgraçados. Afinal de contas---diriam os puritanos de Boston---aqueles
homens eram ou não eram inimigos da ordem estabelecida, anarquistas perigosos? (Sacco... 51)
212
Americans] can still talk about them like that!” 238 (“Chaplin” 114). She concludes her
crônica by asserting that the United States is the wrongful party in this affair.
[Chaplin has] exactly the type of genius that American mediocrity does
not tolerate…And, from all that has been said, one can extract an
indisputable moral: if Chaplin will ever again be received in the United
States---the damage and the shame will not at all be on his shoulders.
(114) 239
O Cruzeiro was not a fringe publication of a leftist party, but a mass-market magazine of
immense appeal. The fact that crônicas like Queiroz’s and Freyre’s that openly debated
the supremacy and even the good intentions of the United States appeared in its pages
during the 1950s shows the growing critical view of the Brazilian intellectual
establishment toward the northern superpower.
Certain crônicas by Queiroz specifically address a new sense of resentment at
U.S. dealings with Brazil. In a crônica published in 1952 entitled “Imperialism,” she
describes an American in a Rio de Janeiro bar during Carnaval who tries to pay with U.S.
dollars and responds indignantly when the bartender insists on payment in cruzeiros. He
eventually changes his money at the black market rate with another patron and is expelled
by the proprietor and the bouncer for violating Brazilian law. It is a small victory for
Brazilian nationalism in a world where the United States was asserting more and more
power. This crônica even comically incorporates some of the then current discourse of
Brazil as a land without racism. When the security guard at the bar scolds the North
American patron for his pompous attempts at using his hard currency he says, “Look, I’m
238
A confissão de insegurança, de temor, de estupidez, de medo cego, de humbuguismo, em que essa
atitude importa, é terrível. Os russos devem estar gozando: e ainda assim falam deles! (Chaplin 114)
239
E é justamente o gênio que mediocridade americana não tolera...E, de tudo que foi dito, pode-se extrair
uma moralidade incontroversa: se Chaplin for recebido de volta nos Estados Unidos---o prejuízo e a
vergonha não serão para Chaplin de modo nenhum. (114)
213
a racist too; take my word for it American!..,I’m a real racist! If you ask me, there
wouldn’t even be a black market, unless you pay the legal exchange rate 240”
(“Imperialismo”) She concludes the crônica repeating that the bouncer “was a hell of a
racist,” because of his negative reaction to the black market activities of this arrogant
North American. It is an interesting use of the word “racist”. There is a humorous
element in which Queiroz plays with the concept of racism in terms of the bouncer’s
contempt for the “black” market but there is also possible criticism on the part of the
bouncer to the perceived racism of North Americans. After all, when he initially
confronts the tourist he says, “I’m racist, too,” and thus implies that he is comparing
himself to the North American’s perceived racism. In a comic text, Queiroz is able to
comment on U.S. arrogance and racism.
In a later crônica Queiroz directly challenges U.S. visa policy and uses the denial
of author José Lins do Rego’s visa to illustrate its injustice. This crônica, entitled
“Passaporte,” is more than just the defense of a prominent intellectual. In “Passaporte,”
Queiroz questions the United States’ approach toward relations with Brazil at the time:
Did they ever stop to examine their simple rationale for visa denial: to
realize that by freely and willingly insulting one of the greatest men of this
country, one of our most solid glories, they were investing against several
centuries of friendship between their land and ours. (“Passaporte” 98) 241
Lins do Rego was denied entry to the United States because he had signed an anti-Franco
petition in the 1930s. In the years of McCarthyism this was enough to merit his inclusion
240
Pois olhe, eu também sou racista; americano comigo é na batata!...Sou racista no duro! Por mim,
câmbio-negro não havia, só se pagava no legal! (“Imperialismo”)
241
Detiveram-se a examinar este simples raciocínio: que insultando assim vagarosa e deliberadamente um
dos maiores homens deste país, uma das nossa glórias mais sólidas, estavam investindo contra alguns
séculos de amizade entre a terra deles e a nossa? (“Passaporte” 98)
214
on a blacklist. This is far from the first documented case of U.S. bureaucracy’s treatment
of Brazilian dignitaries leading to a furor in intellectual circles. As has been detailed in
the introduction to this thesis, Joaquim Nabuco himself, was denied proper diplomatic
immunity upon entering the country in 1906 which led to anger in the Brazilian press and
apologies from various U.S. diplomats. Queiroz’s criticisms, as postulated above, are
indicative of a broader resistance to a perceived arrogance and a sense of rejection on the
part of a close ally. She reiterates this later in the piece:
It is nevertheless a manifestation of the Americans’ childish arrogance that
they claim the right to an exception because they are rich, numerous and
on the side of good and then proceed like poorly-raised adolescents to
hurt, humiliate and disrespect their friends---all of us, their friends. (98) 242
This mixture of exploitation, arrogance and a perceived reneging on a tradition of
allegiance and good relations did nothing to build a positive image of the United States in
the Cold War era. Rachel de Queiroz found it necessary to call out the United States and
explicitly criticize this adolescent behavior. How were Brazilian intellectuals to follow
Freyre’s charge to better acquaint themselves with the United States and better
understand their role in a new world system if the United States denied them access? The
simultaneous inaccessibility and attraction of firsthand knowledge of the United States
lent particular importance to the final two works to be analyzed in this thesis: Vianna
Moog’s Bandeirantes e pioneiros and Alceu Amoroso Lima’s A realidade americana.
242
Não deixa, porém, de ser uma manifestação de arrogância infantil dos americanos, usarem desse direito
de exceçãoo e, porque são ricos, porque são numerosos e estão do lado melhor, procederem assim, como
adolescentes malcriados, ferindo, humilhando, desrespeitando os seus amigos---sim, a nós todos, seus
amigos. (98)
215
Fundamental Flaws and Potential Salvation: Vianna Moog’s Analysis in
Bandeirantes e pioneiros.
Among Gilberto Freyre’s many articles discussing the United States that appeared
in O Cruzeiro in the 1950s there is a short review of a new book by a member of the
Academia Brasileira from Rio Grande do Sul, who until then was best known for his
works about Amazônia, his literary criticism, and a novel about German immigrants. His
new book, first published in 1954, would become one of the most influential discussions
of Brazilian national identity to be produced in that decade. In his review, Freyre claims
it is a major contribution to Brazilians’ own understanding of their homeland:
Bandeirantes e pioneiros is a book that only a writer who has travelled in
today’s super-civilized lands, who knows the United States as well as
Europe, could have written about Brazil. Since, after all, the object of this
study is Brazil. But a Brazil that could only be analyzed, understood and
interpreted by somebody who knows other lands and peoples. There is no
truly enlightening book about Brazil as seen through the eyes of a
sociologist or historian, and not just a simple linear description of one or
another aspect of its past or present, that has been written by a Brazilian
who only knows his country or his province” 243(“O Sr…”48)
He goes on to place Vianna Moog on a list of Brazilian writers with deep knowledge of
other societies that have produced insightful discussions of Brazil, such as Joaquim
Nabuco, Sílvio Romero and Oliveira Lima. He also includes Erico Verissimo on a list of
more contemporary essayists who he believes contribute to an ample interpretation of
Brazil. Freyre’s recognition of Moog as a well-travelled articulator of Brazilian society
243 Bandeirantes e Pioneiros é o livro que só um escritor viajado pelas terras super-civilzadas de hoje,
conhecedor dos Estados Unidos tanto quanto da Europa, poderia ter escrito sobre o Brasil. Pois o objeto
desse estudo é afinal o Brasil. Mas um Brasil que só poderia ser analisado, compreendido e interpretado por
quem conhecesse outros povos e outras terras. Não há livro verdadeiramente esclarecedor sobre o Brasil,
visto em conjunto com olhos de sociólogo ou de historiador, e não apenas descrito linearmente num ou
noutro aspecto do seu passado social ou da sua atualidade, que tenha sido escrito por brasileiro conhecedor
apenas do sue País ou da sua Provincia. (O Sr...48)
216
(not to mention his recognition of the other writers he incorporates in the review) is also
recognition of his own position in the world of Brazilian studies. If Freyre had not had his
own international experiences, he would not have been able to author what had become
in many ways the blueprint for discussions of Brazilian identity. Moog and other writers
of this generation, with their increasing familiarity with the outside world are continuing
Freyre’s work of describing and explaining Brazil with the benefit of an outside
perspective. Moog’s new book, Bandeirantes e pioneiros, was to combine Freyre’s deep
search for the soul of his homeland with an analysis of the United States. While Moog
criticized many aspects of Brazilian society, he saw the potential for redemption, whereas
he saw the United States as headed into dangerous territory.
Clodomir Vianna Moog was born in 1906 in São Leopoldo, Rio Grande do Sul.
His father was a Protestant civil servant of German descent and his mother was a Roman
Catholic schoolteacher. Moog himself remarked that his extended family disapproved of
his parents’ marriage. The German community was resistant to intermarriage with nativeborn Brazilians and his mother’s family had a long tradition in the Roman Catholic
Church (Zilberman 4). Moog studied in Catholic schools and eventually earned a degree
in law and employment as a civil servant. Though in his younger years Moog was a
supporter of the Aliança Liberal and Getúlio Vargas’s October revolution of 1930, he
eventually soured on Vargas and supported the 1932 Constitutionalist Revolution. This
anti-Vargas activism led to his arrest and relocation from Rio Grande do Sul to the North
and Northeast of Brazil. He spent much of the 1930s living in Amazonas and Piauí states,
a time in which he began his literary career. He returned to Rio Grande do Sul in 1934,
and began to publish books, including a study of Amazonas entitled O ciclo do ouro
217
negro as well a novel about the German community in his home state entitled Um rio
imita o Reno. He also published several well-received works of literary criticism
including a biography of Eça de Queirós. During this period of literary activity in his
home state he also cultivated a close friendship with Erico Verissimo. Moog remarked
that he and Verissimo had been friends for 42 years when Verissimo died, and that
Verissimo inspired Moog’s own literary endeavours (Zilberman 8). This friendship
would become useful to the two men when, in the 1940s, both would embark on journeys
to the United States. In 1942, Moog received a Guggenheim Fellowship and according to
some biographical sources (a booklet published by Instituto Estadual do Livro of Rio
Grande do Sul and the Academia Brasileira) also travelled to the United States, the first
of many journeys that would influence his later work. During this first journey to the
United States he wrote articles for the New York Herald Tribune and other publications
(Zilberman 12). He would return to the United States in 1950 as a diplomat, when he
represented Brazil in United Nations talks that would lead to the creation of UNICEF
(12). This further familiarity with the United States would provide more fuel for his
arguments in Bandeirantes e pioneiros.
Verissimo, who was the first of the two friends to make the journey to the United
States, was the eager to help Moog plan his journey and was full of advice for the young
intellectual. Moog himself was learning what he could about the United States through
the emissaries sent under the auspices of the OCIAA. 244 He nevertheless, made it clear
that he wanted to gain firsthand experience of the United States. In a letter to Verissimo
244
There is some discrepancy between biographical sources and my own investigations of Vianna Moog’s
travels to the United States. While both the booklet on Vianna Moog published Rio Grande do Sul’s
Instituto Estadual do Livro and the website of the Academia Brasileira claim that Moog first visited the
United States in 1942 with a Guggenheim Fellwoship, his correspondence with Erico Verissimo implies
that he did not travel to the United States until May of 1943.
218
dated December 16, 1942 he speaks of a visit by a U.S. dignitary named Hippelhauser
whom he claims is “one of the most intelligent and interesting Americans he has met”
(Moog, 16 Dec 1942). In this letter he comments on his wait for the official invitation to
the United States, and his inability to draw conclusions about that country until he has
seen it with his own eyes, “As I’m a bit of a doubting Thomas, until the ticket and official
invitation arrive, I will only be skimming through the United States via those Americans
that Mr. Rockefeller has been sending us” 245 (Moog, 16 Dec 1942). By April of the next
year he excitedly wrote to Verissimo that he had received those official documents, and
thus began his more intimate relationship with the United States. Verissimo responded to
Moog a few days later (May 3) full of enthusiasm. The novelist showed off his
knowledge of the United States by giving Moog a wide variety of recommendations for
his journey, such as to avoid restaurants with French names and stick to automats, to
accept all invitations for formal dinners or luncheons because they are, “wealth of
savings,” for a Brazilian, to base himself in New York or “in the worst case,” Chicago
and, if pressed for time, to avoid Boston, Philadelphia or Baltimore in favor the South
and the “typically American zone” that is the Midwest (Verissimo, 3 May 1943). In
addition to these more practical recommendations, he both flatters Moog and gives him
guidance for his new role as a cultural ambassador of Brazil, “With your formidable
capacity for generalization, try to paint them a panorama of Brazil in few words” 246
(Verissimo, 3 May 1943). In another letter sent on the eve of Moog’s departure he
245
Mas como sou um pouco S. Tomé, enquanto não chegar a passagem e o convite em termos oficiaes,vai
folheando mesmo os Eastados Unidos através dos americanos que Mr. Rockerfeller nos tem enviado.
(Moog, 16 Dec. 1943)
246
Com a tua capacidade formidável de generalização, procura dar-lhes um panorama do Brazil em poucas
palavras. (Verissmo, 3 May 1943)
219
jokingly requests, “Try to clean up the bad impression that I left there. And with your
flair for big ideas, see if you can interpret that place” 247 (Verissimo, 31 May 1943).
Though Bandeirantes e pioneiros took a decade of deep contemplation and
writing to be published, Moog certainly used his talent for generalizations. What makes
Moog’s Bandeirantes e pioneiros stand out is his broad-ranging discussion of the United
States as well as his interpretation of Brazil. Freyre discusses the United States in Casagrande e senzala and Verissimo makes a point to draw connections with Brazil in his
Gato-preto… travelogues. Moog’s book combines Freyre’s aims of explaining and
interpreting Brazilian society with Verissimo’s project of educating the Brazilian reading
public on the good and the bad of their northern counterpart. Moog himself was
committed to the importance of his project. In a letter to Erico Verissimo sent during the
process of writing Bandeirantes… he remarks that he is writing a “great book, a great
book.” Verissimo, who read several early drafts of the manuscript, agreed with Moog
about the importance of his manuscript in a letter dated September 17, 1952 :
This will not be a book that can be read by the lower levels of the public,
but it will be---and this I know---widely read, discussed, praised, debated
and it will have the virtue of provoking discussions that will go far. It will
come out at a time when we will be enjoying the merits of the United
States and in which we in Brazil are at a turning point that resembles that
which the Americans passed at the end of the last century (with
advantages to our favor, of course, advantages which in this case come
from the fact that up to a certain point we face the presence of this big
247
Trata de desmanchar a má impressão que deixei çá- E com teu faro para as ideias gerais, vê se interpreta
aquela coisa. (Verissimo, 31 May 1943)
220
brother, half apostle and half gangster, up North). 248 (Verissimo, 17 Sep.
1952)
Upon Moog’s completion of the manuscript, Verissimo continued to sing the text’s
praises. In a letter dated November 14, 1952, he hails Moog’s unpretentious writing style
and makes claims that the book breaks new ground among Brazilian intellectuals, “The
first parallels you make are obvious to a certain point but they are made with such clarity
and with an abundance of arguments that none of our essayists have yet used to discuss
this subject” 249 (Verissimo, 14 Nov 1952). He also claims that the “Gilbertos” (a
reference to Freyre) will disagree with certain points but that overall, “this is your most
important work…the theory of the mazombo will give food for thought and
discussions” 250 (Verissimo, 14 Nov 1952). Verissimo was proud of his friend’s magnum
opus, and as a fellow gaúcho with a close familiarity with the United States, he saw it as
a significant contribution to Brazilian discussions of the United States, not to mention
Brazil’s own social questions (the case of the mazombo which will be discussed later in
this section). In a possible manifestation of regional bias, Verissimo, like Moog a proud
gaúcho, was wrong about Freyre’s response to the work, as evidenced by the sociologist's
glowing review of Moog’s book cited at the beginning of this section.
248
Não será um livro no sentido do que possa ser lida pelas baixas camadas do público, mas será---isso eu
sei----vastamente lido, discutido, elogiado, contravertido, e terá a virtude de provocar discussões que irão
longe. Vai cair numa hora em que se disfrutem os méritos dos Estados Unidos e em que nós no Brasil
estamos num turning point que muito se assemelha ao dos americanos em fins do século passado. (Com
vantagens a nosso favor, é claro, e nesse caso as vantagens vêm do fato de vós até certo ponto contrarmos
com a presença desse irmão grande, metade apóstolo e metade gangster, lá no Norte (Verissimo, 17 Sep.
1952)
249
Os primeiros paralelos são até certo ponto óbvio mas foram feitos com uma clareza e uma abundância
de argumentos que até hoje nenhum ensaísta entre nós usou para tratar do assunto. (Verissimo, 14 Nov
1952)
250
A história do mazombo (ou melhor, a teoria do mazombo) vai dar food for thought and discussions.
(Verissimo, 14 Nov. 1952)
221
Bandeirantes e pioneiros did not only cause a stir among Brazilian writers and
thinkers like Freyre; it also piqued interest in the United States. Even before the book had
been translated into English by L.L. Barrett and published in 1964, there was a lengthy
review by George Kubler in American Quarterly. Kubler’s review is mostly a summary
of Moog’s approach and a discussion of its rhetorical construction, which he traces back
to Plutarch and medieval sermons (81). He comments on the role of the United States in
the book, “In Vianna Moog’s book, the United States is used as ground more than as
figure, for the author moralizes on the virtues and defects of the Brazilian character by
reference to United States character” (81). The review ends with a succinct summary of
the book’s message. “Vianna Moog’s homiletic method drives Brazilians and North
Americans into reciprocally complementary positions: each needs the other’s virtues”
(81). Thomas Skidmore would later affirm this interpretation of Moog’s work in his own
article “Brazil’s American Illusion.” His condensation of Bandeirantes is…,”Brazil
lacked discipline, while the U.S. lacked humanity” (79). He goes on to claim:
Thus Moog’s book served to tranquilize his Brazilian readers: they were
right to compare Brazil to the U.S., they were right to conclude the U.S.
was far ahead in material progress, but they should know that historical
forces were moving Brazil onto the track of progress, while the U.S.
would have to slow down to regain its humanity (79).
A further discussion of this aspect of Moog’s work will appear later in this chapter.
Upon translation into English the book reached an even broader audience in the
United States. The author of a brief 1964 review of the book’s translation from the LusoBrazilian Review recommends the book to scholars of U.S. history and not only to those
interested in Brazil. This review comments:
The resulting survey of westward movement in both countries is of
particular interest to the student of North American history. Vianna
222
Moog’s treatment of the subject shows us an aspect of our history from a
Brazilian point of view. It is possible that a North American will take
exception to some of the author’s opinions and generalizations, but will
also frequently be stimulated to a reconsideration of inherited attitudes.
The book is recommended to our colleagues in United States history.
(113)
This recommendation confirms Kupler’s own observations of Moog’s intentions for his
work, not to mention Freyre’s remarks on the importance of intimacy with other societies
and world views to better comprehend and interpret one’s own society. Scholars of the
United States can indeed learn from this Brazilian voice. Though Bandeirantes…may
feature a nuanced and necessary discussion of Brazilian society, the discussion of U.S.
society is no less important or potentially edifying to readers of the book, whether
Brazilian or North American.
Lúcia Lippi Oliveira discusses Bandeirantes…at length in her own work,
Americanos. She presents her readers with a comprehensive review of Moog’s
arguments, and also discusses its context in Brazilian intellectual history. As her own
work focuses on representation of the frontier in North American and Brazilian
conceptions of national identity, she makes it clear to point out the ways that Moog’s
book also uses the concept of the frontier via the figure of the bandeirante as locus for his
articulation of Brazilian national characteristics. Lippi Oliveira writes that the
bandeirante had become a major symbol of Brazilian identity and society in the 1920s,
1930s and 1940s. She indicates Cassiano Ricardo’s Marcha para o Oeste v. 2 as the text
that most embodies this discourse, also represented by other Paulista essayists like Paulo
Prado and Afonso d’Escragnolle Taunay, and its connections to the concept of “social
democracy” that would guide the Estado Novo (95-96). She goes on to describe the
223
book’s zeitgeist, describing a general sense of frustration that accompanied Brazil’s
defeat in the 1950 World Cup:
This event indicates how, although there are moments of great euphoria,
they are followed by others of great impotence and frustration, and the
national imaginary alternates between seemingly endless highs and lows.
The country seemed like it was failing; how can this be
interpreted” 251(104).
Though Lippi Oliveira’s statement seems to contradict my discussion of nationalist
optimism that has been a theme of this chapter, I do not believe this to be the case.
Brazilian intellectuals, as well as the masses, were frustrated precisely because there was
a sense that the country could do better. Unlike the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, there was no longer a prevailing view that Brazil was doomed to failure
because of race, climate or history. Brazilians had seen the beginning of industrialization
and mass urbanization as well as the dismissal of racialist arguments against the potential
success of Brazil, to say nothing of the meteoric rise of their northern analogue to
superpower status in the past twenty years. These frustrations existed because optimism
also could exist. The texts like those of Queiroz, Freyre and Moog that are analyzed in
this chapter illustrate this sense that Brazil can and in some ways is doing better. They
furnish a sense of national pride and optimism in a nation where frustration was rife.
Furthermore, they allow Brazil to stand up to the Western superpower as another, perhaps
more noble model of the West.
At first glance, Bandeirantes e pioneiros can come across as a scathing
deconstruction of Brazilian identity. Moog confirms that Brazil is indeed underdeveloped
251
Este evento aponta como, a momentos de grande euforia, seguem-se outros de grande impotência e
frustração, e imaginário nacional vai alternando altos e baixos que parecem não ter fim. O país parece não
dar certo; como interpretar isto? (104)
224
socioeconomically compared to the United States, and furthermore manages to
convincingly identify historical and even theological roots for this state of
underdevelopment. As Verissimo himself noted in his letter to Moog, among the author’s
most resonating assertion is that Brazilian society is the heir to the mazombos, the sons of
European colonists who had no intention of developing Brazil, but rather a drive to
extract as much easy wealth as possible. Brazil is not thriving the way the United States
has thrived because it lacks the North American Anglo pioneer’s drive to settle the land
and create a perfect society organized around the sacrament of industry. Why then do
writers like Skidmore and Lippi Oliveira point to Moog’s fundamentally optimistic
(verging on messianic) message to Brazilians? A brief analysis of some elements of
Bandeirantes… will illustrate this hopeful aspect of Moog’s prognosis for Brazil.
Bandeirantes e pioneiros is presented as a Weberian comparative analysis of
Brazil and the United States. He begins his book by rapidly dismissing a race-based
approach to a comparison between the two countries and summarily writes, “The truth is
that American racism lost its doctrinal battle and knows that it lost. The rest is a matter of
time” 252 (24). He then goes on to dismiss geography as a factor for the socioeconomic
inequality between the two countries, citing the failure of North American attempts at
harnessing Brazil’s natural wealth such as the Fordlândia 253 rubber plantation and the
252
A verdade é que o racismo americano perdeu a batalha doutrinária e sabe que a perdeu. O resto é uma
questão de tempo (24).
253
Fordlândia was a massive project of Henry Ford’s to create a rubber plantation in Amazonas that would
become the source of all rubber needed by the U.S. auto-industry. Moog details the rise and fall of this
ambitious project, and focuses specifically on the tensions between Ford’s caboclo workers and the
management, tensions that he blames on a lack of cultural sensitivity on the part of the Ford Company.
225
Confederado 254 colonies as evidence that Brazilian approaches are better suited to
confront Brazil’s geographic and developmental challenges. He then moves on to a
critique of Marxist thought, which he dismisses as “The fashion, the great fashion of
today” (72). It is the interesting that he rhetorically continues to attack comparisons built
on erroneous foci on geography and race while building up to his attack on Marx.
The Lusiad race entered its decadence due to excessive mixing with the
Indians and Blacks while that of the Anglo-Saxons refined its atavistic
qualities thanks to its resistance to darker races? Nothing of the sort.
In fact, according to the Marxists, there was just one explanation: an
economic one. And the quintessence of this explanation was called:
coal. 255(73)
He goes on to dismiss this, the prevailing Marxist argument that looked at the lack of coal
as having hampered Brazilian industrialization, by pointing out that Brazil is a Catholic
society and that for a Catholic society the attempt at using capital as an explanation fails
because of fundamental theological precepts. He chooses to base his comparison of the
two countries on ethos. Lippi Oliveira describes this aspect of the book, and compares it
to the more scientific approach that was in vogue at the time:
More culturalist, he speaks of social types, something closer to social
psychology and concerned with national character; he has composed a
comparative “essay,” a genre dismissed by the academic production of the
social sciences. 256(104).
254
The Confederados were immigrants to Brazil who sought to recreate the slavery-based economy of the
American South after the defeat of the Confederacy in the U.S. Civil War. While they did establish some
successful settlements in São Paulo state, such as Americana, they did not become the dominant class of
São Paulo, instead integrating into Brazilian society while maintaining some tenuous links the U.S. South.
For more on the Confederados see Vianna Moog and Sérgio Buarque de Holanda.
255
Entrou a raça dos lusíadas a decair pelo excesso de cruzamento com índios e negros, e a dos anglosaxões a apurar suas qualidades atávicas graças à sua resistência às raças mais escuras? Nada disso. Para o
fato, Segundo os Marxistas, havia apenas uma explicação: a econômica. E a quinta-essência desta
explicação chamava-se carvão (73).
256
Mais culturalista, fala de tipos sociais, algo mais próxima à psicologia social e ocupado com o caráter
nacional; constitui um “ensaio” comparativo, gênero recusado pela produção universitária das ciências
sociais. (104).
226
By choosing this different nexus for comparing the two countries, he aligns himself to his
own interpretation of Weberian sociology, looking to define a national ethos.
He returns to the Middle Ages in an attempt to explain the impossibility of using a
Marxist explanation focusing solely on capital to describe Brazil as a contemporary
society. He begins a lengthy discussion of the theological aversion to the accumulation of
capital in medieval Catholicism and of the universalism of this earlier church, one that he
viewed as antithetical to the concept of national pride. He posits, “Does this mean that
Catholicism is absolutely incompatible with capitalism and the principle of nationality or
even with racial discrimination? Doctrinally, yes” 257(87). As evidence, he presents the
contrasting myths of Pocanhontas and Paraguaçu. He briefly recounts the legend of
Portuguese explorer Diogo Álvares (named Caramuru by the Tupinambá people he
encountered), who wed Paraguaçu, a woman from this indigenous community. She
travelled to Portugal with him, but they eventually returned to Brazil where they settled,
thus planting the seeds of a mestiço society. He contrasts this to John Smith, who was
saved by Pocahontas but never settled down with her in a socially recognized legitimate
marriage. He comments, “Just as, by marrying Paraguaçu, Diogo Álvares is quite
Catholic and quite Portuguese, John Smith, by not marrying Pocahontas, is quite AngloSaxon and quite Protestant, and perhaps more Protestant than Anglo-Saxon” 258 (102). He
claims that this repulsion at miscegenation, one he endows with a theological
underpinning, continues to separate Brazil and the United States:
257
Quer isso dizer que o catolicismo é absolutamente incompatível com o capitalism e o princípio de
nacionalidades ou mesmo a discriminação racial? Doutrinariamente, sim (87).
258
Assim como, casando com Paraguaçu, Diogo Álvares é bem católico e bem português, John Smith, não
casando com Pocahontas, e bem anglo-saxão e protestante, e talvez mais protestante de que anglo-saxão
(102).
227
What about marriage between a white man and an Indian, mestiça, or
native like the Portuguese legislation actually recommended for Brazil?
How dreadful! Hollywood and Broadway say so. At the end of exotic
stories destined for box-office success, either the native girl sacrifices
herself, throwing herself in the crater of a volcano, or the white man does
not take note of the passion that he has initiated, as is the case in Madama
Butterfly. 259
It is interesting to point out the ways that this narrative of Anglo-Saxon encounters with
“native” women is also reproduced in “Tangerine-Girl,” this time by a Brazilian writer.
This aspect of United States relations with foreigners was indeed present in the Brazilian
national imaginary, and perhaps all the more after the influx of U.S. servicemen during
the Second World War. While Moog was far from the first person to point out the fact
that people in the United States were more uncomfortable with miscegenation than
Brazilians, his insistence that this significant contrast between the societies was rooted in
deep ethical differences that stemmed from as far back as the Middle Ages was a more
novel contribution to this conversation.
Moog’s book goes on to document these varied ethical contrasts between the two
societies, many of which he traces to theological differences between Catholicism and
Protestantism (specifically Calvinism) that he describes in his second chapter. He focuses
most intensely on the two symbols of frontier exploration and nation building, the pioneer
in the case of the United States and the bandeirante in the case of Brazil. Lippi Oliveira
does an excellent job of distilling his fundamental arguments about these symbols and
what they imply for broader generalizations about contrasting national ethics. For Moog,
the pioneer is something of an escape from the puritanical rigors of the Calvinist,
259
Casamento de branco com índia, mestiça ou nativa tal como chegou a ser recomendado pela legislação
portuguesa para o Brasil? Que horror! Hollywood e Broadway que o digam. No fim das histórias exóticas
para êxito de bilheteria, ou a nativa se sacrifica, jogando-se à cratera de um vulcão, ou o branco não se dá
conta da paixão que desencadeou, como é o caso em Madame Butterfly.
228
capitalist Yankee of New England and the authoritarianism of the Southern aristocracy.
She condenses Moog’s argument about the role of the pioneer in the United States:
This is the North American cultural triangle, with each point diverging
economically, politically and socially from other two. In the struggle
between the North and the South, the pioneer who goes to the West tips
the scales, which swing to the North. The pioneer is therefore the
immediate victor of the Civil War, but the long-term victor is in fact the
Yankee, who ends up conquering all of America. 260 (109)
The fact that the Yankee ethos would become dominant would translate into the eventual
problems of the United States that Moog would expose to his Brazilian readers. The
bandeirante, on the other hand, is part of a Brazilian cultural triangle that also includes
the plantation masters of the fertile Northeastern coastland and the Jesuit missionaries of
the South and the Amazon Basin. Whereas Moog praises the pioneer for his
independence, industry and commitment to settlement, he, echoing arguments by Manoel
Bomfim and Sérgio Buarque de Holanda, criticizes the bandeirante as the possessor of
what Lippi Oliveira describes as, “a predatory, extractive spirit,” (109) ironically the
same spirit that more anti-American Brazilian intellectuals like Eduardo Prado had
attributed to the United States. The bandeirante, with his focus on easy wealth, violent
means and a backward gaze that still views Europe as his primary home is a negative
symbol compared to the pioneer. The bandeirante, far from an admirable myth,
symbolizes the worst of the mazombismo that Moog decries as among the bane of the
Brazilian ethos.
In his chapter on “Conquest and Colonization,” Moog points out the differences
between the concepts of social participation forged in Brazil and Spanish America from
260
Este é o triângulo cultural norte-americano, com cada ponta divergindo econômica, política e
socialmente das outras duas. Na luta entre of Norte e o Sul, o pioneiro que vai para o oeste acaba por se
tornar o fiel da balança, pende para o norte. O pioneiro é assim o vencedor imediato da Guerra Civil, mas o
vencedor a longo prazo é mesmo o ianque que vai conquistando toda a América. (109)
229
that formed in the United States. He stridently claims that the descendants of the first
Portuguese colonists of Brazil had no interest in considering themselves Brazilian, but
rather maintained their focus on Portugal. He reminds readers that the first children of
Portuguese in Brazil were not called Brazilians but mazombos, a separate social category
“to which nobody wanted to belong” 261 (144). He compares this generation to the English
migrants to North America, who he claimed, “as soon as the ship extended its plank, were
cutting the umbilical chord that tied them to the fatherland” 262(145). Moog’s argument
becomes even more polemical with the following claim:
Latin Americans generally resent that North Americans call themselves
Americans tout court, unconcerned with identifying themselves in some
other way. They consider this to be usurpation. In fact, it is not. While the
sons of Portuguese and Spaniards born in America are in Brazil the
mazombos and in New Spain the criollos, the sons of the English born in
the American colonies are the first to adopt the title of American and to be
proud of this condition. 263(145)
Moog then dedicates three sections of this chapter to a description of the mazombo, a title
that he claims reflects a lack of pride in Brazilian identity and more concern with what is
happening in Lisbon and later, Paris and London, than with the development of a thriving
Brazil. He defines Brazilian mazombismo as it manifested itself throughout the country’s
history:
261
categoria social à parte, a que ninguem queria pertencer (144).
262
Dando as costas à Europa, primeiro por motivos religiosos, depois por motivos econômicos e políticos,
trazendo consigo mulher, filhos e haveres, foi logo cortando, apenas o navio largava a prancha, o cordão
umbilical que o prendia à pátria de origem. Daquele momento em diante, psicológicamentem se não
culturalmente, já não era inglês, mas americano e somente americano (145).
263
Os latino-americanos em geral ressentem que os americanos do Norte se chamem a si mesmos
Americanos tout court, despreocupados de se identificarem de outra maneira. Consideram isso uma
usurpação. Na verdade, não o é. Porque, enquanto os filhos de portugueses e espanhois nascidos na
América são no Brasil os mazombos, na Nova Espanha os criollos, os filhos dos ingleses nascidos nas
colônias americanas são os primeiros a adotar o título de Americano e ter orgulho desta condição (145).
230
…the absence of determination and satisfaction to be Brazilian, the
absence for a taste for any type of organic activity, the need for initiative
and inventiveness, the lack of a belief in the possibility of the moral
perfection of man, the neglect of anything that’s not a rapid fortune, and
above all, the lack of a collective ideal, the near total absence of a feeling
that the individual belongs to a place or to the community in which he or
she was living. The belonging of the Americans did not exist in the
mazombo. 264 (150-151)
Moog spares no criticism of his own homeland in his attack on the mazombo and the
faults that it has created in Brazil. He sees the rapacious bandeirante, a figure that had
become a consecrated mythic symbol of national identity in the past few decades, as the
embodiment of the negative traits present in the Brazilian ethos from the start. An
examination of Moog’s work that focuses solely on what Verissimo called “the theory of
the mazombo” and on his deconstruction of the symbol of the bandeirante could conclude
that this book did not reflect any kind of nationalist optimism like the work of Freyre had
done in years prior. That type of analysis would be ignoring the very real critiques of the
United States that Moog makes in his book, as well as his faith in the Catholic, Latin
roots of Brazil as a path to salvation.
Bandeirantes e pioneiros is far from a purely historical analysis of the two
countries. By the time he had written the book, Moog had gained extensive experience in
the United States. His familiarity with U.S. intellectuals and writers also aided him in his
evaluation of the nation. As the North American reviews of the book pointed out, there
are certain generalizations and assumptions that he makes about the United States that
264
Tal como nos primeiros temos coloniais, consistia essencialmente nisto: na ausência de determinação e
satisfação de ser brasileiro, na ausência de gosto por qualquer tipo de atividade orgânica, na carencia de
iniciativa e inventividade, na falta de crença na possibilidade de aperfeiçoamento moral do homem, em
descaso por tudo quanto não fosse fortuna rápida, e sobretudo, na falta de um ideal coletivo, na quase total
ausência de sentimento de pertencer o indivíduo ao lugar e à comunidade em que vivia. O belonging dos
americanos não existia no mazombo (150-151).
231
ring false, or at the least, seem like over-generalizations. At the same time, there are also
sections of the book that give the North American reader pause, observations that Moog
makes that prompt the U.S. reader to see his or her sociocultural background from a new
perspective.
From the very beginning of the book he points out flaws in the North American
system, particularly when it comes to racism, as has already been mentioned in this
section’s discussion of the comparison between Paraguaçu’s acceptance and
Pocahontas’s rejection from white colonial society. Though he seems to admire the
United States’ dedication to work and capital gain, particularly in the ways that it has
fueled an organized and prosperous society, he also criticizes what he perceives to be a
Protestant focus on profit and money. He makes the observation that the Lord’s Prayer as
prayed in English differs from its Brazilian version:
The Lord’s Prayer that is recited in America, and certainly that which is
recited in England, does not expressly speak of debts but of trespasses--violation, transgression, infraction, offense, sin, lack---as if to imply that
one cannot even fathom a pardon for monetary debts, but only for moral
and juridical infractions… 265(210)
He analyzes Saint Matthew’s original meanings of the Lord’s Prayer, and concludes that
he did indeed intend to include financial debts in this prayer. He concludes that this
change to the text of the Lord’s Prayer is the result of the Puritan/Yankee influence. For
Moog, money has taken on a mystic value in Yankee culture that has gone on to permeate
all U.S. society. “The devices, the concerns, the precautions, the euphemisms with which
they are able to protect the mystical value of money. Debt forgiveness? Not in the
265
Pois bem, o padre-nosso que se reza na América, e certamente o que se reza na Inglaterra, não fala
expressamente em dívidas, mas em trespasses---violação, transgressão, infração, ofensa, pecado, falta--como a implicar que não se cogita de nenhum perdão da dívida dinheiro, mas apenas de dívidas morais e
jurídicas de outra natureza (210).
232
Yankee conception of life” 266(213). Moog’s ironic tone when discussing the importance
of money to the Calvinist-derived North American ethos, much like his critique of racial
segregation and white supremacy, reveals some of his more negative feelings about the
United States.
Moog’s critiques of the United States are most evident in the last chapters of the
book. It is in these sections that he most incisively exposes the negative results of the
United States’s ethos. He is most concerned with the contradiction between the belief in
the fundamental goodness of man and the quest for material gain, “ …we cannot deny the
preponderance given, in the cultural evolution of the United States to the belief in the
inherent goodness of man and the now secular conflict between that and the belief in
material success at all costs” 267(263). He believes this schism as well as other “master
narratives,” of U.S. society, such as: “racial discrimination, a break with the past,
Puritanism, as well as belief in the essential goodness of humanity and the extreme
dignity given to work as both a means and an end---are the principle reasons for [U.S.]
neuroses 268”(316-317). He gives compelling examples of the ways in which these
narratives feed U.S. neuroses, and ends his discussion with an analysis of two eminently
familiar U.S. creations of the time, Pluto and Donald Duck. He sees Pluto as
representative of a certain naivete and an excess of faith in the goodness of humanity that
destines him, “to be as frustrated and immature as he is” (354). Donald Duck, on the
266
Os artifícios, os cuidados, as cautelas, os eufemismos de que são capazes para resguardar o valor místico
do dinheiro. Perdão de dívida? Não existe na concepção ianque da vida” (213)
267
não há como negar preponderância, na evolução cultural dos Estados-Unidos à crença na bondade
natural do homem no seu já secular conflito com a crença no sucesso material a qualquer preço” (263).
268 discriminação racial, rompimento com o passado, puritanismo, e logo em seguida a crença na bondade
essencial do homem e da humanidade, e a dignificação extrema do trabalho como meio e como fim---os
principais responsáveis por suas neuroses (316-317)”
233
other hand, quick to anger, stingy and frustrated, symbolizes the American raised on
Horatio Alger stories and motivated by money. “Neither meek nor humble at heart, like
Pluto; he wants triumph, success, applause, whatever the price” 269(356). Donald Duck’s
incapability to relax and reflect, something that Moog claims he could learn from his
Brazilian Disney counterpart José Carioca, means that he is blind to the fact that there are
no longer opportunities to get rich quick and succeed like the poor boys of Horatio
Alger’s novels (357). This blindness robs Americans of the capacity to debate the merits
of the American way of life, which is consecrated as the best of all worlds. Moog,
returning to his critique of racism in the United States, comments, “Obviously the thirty
million blacks who live in the South and who can neither pray in white churches nor
attend white schools nor even vote in several shall not agree with this” 270 (360). Further
examples of the flaws and paradoxes affecting the United States include the
“Amazonization” of North American women, the celebration of gangsters as heroes, the
increase in suicides during the Great Depression and the lack of any statesmen and
thinkers of the caliber of the founding fathers. From these examples Moog concludes that
there are deeply rooted systemic problems in the United States of the 1950s that are
exacerbated by the messages of Hollywood, public education and mainstream media.
Even with the many positive aspects of the North American ethos, these excesses pose an
existential danger to the well-being of the United States as the champion of Western
Civilization.
269
Não sendo um manso e humilde de coração, como Pluto, quer o triunfo, o êxito, o aplauso, a qualquer
preço” (356)
270
É óbvio que nem sempre os trinta milhões de negros que vivem no Sul dos Estados-Unidos e que não
podiam rezar nas igrejas do branco, nem frequentar-lhe as escolas, nem, em muito Estados, votar, não hão
de concordar muito com isto. (360)
234
Brazil, on the other hand, has been improving, according to Moog’s analysis.
While he makes a compelling albeit unflattering argument that José Dias, the impotent,
calculating agregado of Machado de Assis’s Dom Casmurro is literature’s most lucid
portrait of the Brazilian character (291), he goes on to praise the changes that have
accompanied the growth of Brazilian modernism. These changes led Brazilian writers,
musicians and artists to look deeper within Brazil to find inspiration, thus breaking the
cycle of mazombismo with its Europe-facing gaze. He sees the Brazilian mestiço,
psychologically wounded by mazombismo, as having overcome this psychological
trauma:
At its beginning, physiological hybridism degenerated almost inevitably
into psychological hybridism. Later, however, would arrive the individual
and collective struggle of the mestiço for affirmation and dignity, a
struggle that began to graft onto the tired organism of a transplanted
culture the great and strong traits of our originality. 271(324)
According to Moog, the new affirmation of the mestiço will lead Brazil to overcome any
racial problems, with mulatos eventually being able to speak with pride of their African
ancestors (325). Another positive aspect of contemporary Brazilian society detailed by
Moog was its willingness to face and to incorporate its history. He claims that no other
society in the hemisphere is as able to assimilate the past as well as Brazil (329). In other
words, “as the American people is running away from normalcy, the Brazilians are
271
Em começo, o hibridismo fisiológico degenerava quase inevitavelmente em hibridismo psicológico.
Depois, porem , viria a luta individual e coletiva do mestiço por sua afirmação e dignificação, luta que veio
enxertar no cansado organism de uma cultura transplantada os grandes e fortes traços da nossa
originalidade. (324)
235
slowly moving in its direction” 272(324). He even cites a Professor Northrop of Yale who
claims:
…the new synthesis able to reconcile the various conflicts that furrow the
West and the world at large…will arise, if it arises from the West, not in
the countries situated in the Protestant orbit, but in countries with Latin
origins and traditions, preferably Mexico, Brazil or French
Canada” 273(323).
Moog thus claims to his readers that Brazil, and the Latin world as a whole, is poised for
greatness, and at no moment too soon.
Moog claims that U.S. leaders lack the ability to properly reflect and ponder on
heavy issues unless they have been faced with physical obstacles that force them to take a
break from “accomplishment,” and uses Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Delano
Roosevelt as examples of this (366). With the United States taking on superpower status,
the stakes are too high. He dramatically claims:
Now, however, [the United States] has to deal with more, much more.
Christian civilization is at stake, and the world, evidently, cannot stay in
wait for a heel defect [in reference to Wilson] or childhood paralysis [in
reference to FDR] to cause a miracle and bestow the United States with
great men in the style of those with which American civilization was
fertile at the time of the pioneers, in order to leave the crisis that it
currently confronts and the chaos that it debates. 274 (366)
The United States, due to its social defects, will be unable to lead the Western World
unless it searches for an alternative model within itself.
272
ao passo que o povo Americano vai fugindo à normalidade, o brasileiro vai lentamente caminhando na
direção dela” (324).
273
nova síntese capaz de conciliar os vários conflitos que lavram no Ocidente e no mundo...surgirá, a surgir
no Ocidente, não nos países situados na órbita protestante, mas em algum dos países de origem e tradição
Latinas, de preferência, no México, no Brasil ou no Canada francês” (323).
274 Agora, porém, trata-se de mais, de muito mais. É a cultura cristã que está em jogo, e o mundo,
evidentemente, não pode ficar à espera de que um defeito de calcanhar ou a paralisia infantil operem o
milagre de brindar os Estados-Unidos com grandes homens, ao jeito daqueles em que era fértil a civilização
americana ao tempo dos pioneiros, para sair da crise que atravessa e do caos em que se debate. (366)
236
Moog’s epilogue is a discussion of alternative symbolic models for the United
States and for Brazil that emphasize the positive elements of the other’s national ethos.
He chooses Lincoln for the United States and Aleijadinho for Brazil. In Lincoln, he sees
the self-reflection, the connection with the past, the emotionality and the contemplation
that are more reflective of his interpretation of the Brazilian national character. He
implores his North American readers, “ It’s impossible to have any doubt or hesitation: it
is in Lincoln and nobody else that American civilization must search for inspiration to
rectify the guidelines of its culture if it wants to emerge reinvigorated from the crisis of
our times” 275(391). He goes on describe Aleijadinho’s piety, his focus on hard work and
his disinterest in riches or physical pleasures. With a deeper focus on these virtues, the
Brazilian national character can also be harnessed to lead to Brazil’s fullest potential as a
global leader. He closes the book with a plea for this “correction of guidelines,” within
Brazilian and North American cultures. These two newly corrected societies can, along
with other societies which have absorbed the best lessons of their national characters,
lead the world to a new age of peace, prosperity and universal justice.
For Brazil and the United States to walk into this millennial future together, or
even with Brazil as a leading figure, Moog believes that Brazilians need to know the
United States better and furthermore, that they need to temper both their criticisms and
their enthusiasms about their North American sibling. He describes the responses of
certain Eurocentric Brazilians to the United States: “In the presence of the new, the
unexpected, the unmeasured, the not yet fully consecrated, they suspend, with a jolt, their
275
Impossível qualquer dúvida ou hesitação: em Lincoln e em mais ninguém é que a civilização americana
há de procurar inspiração para a retificação das linhas mestras de sua cultura, se quiser sair revigorada da
crise do nosso tempo. (391)
237
fullest reserves of receptivity to American civilization and its values” 276(280). He
sarcastically describes these people’s responses to the United States, with comic
criticisms of the Statue of Liberty, Coney Island, New York City as a whole, and the
bastardized American variant of English. He claims that the same skeptics will
eventually grow enchanted by the industry, health and joy of life in the United States and
instead of criticizing, will applaud U.S. progress (282). After this swing to another
extreme, he believes that these Brazilians (perhaps based on the experiences of Freyre,
Verissimo and himself), will come to terms with the United States, able to both criticize
and praise the country.
Now, by perceiving that one is in the presence of something new and
immense, of something that needs to be faced without prejudices, one will
understand that this something new can only be understood by
understanding the North American’s position in the face of his
fundamental concept of the past” 277 (283).
This setup helps explain Moog’s own sense of the utility of his work, as a tool for better
understanding the United States’ past and the way that it affects contemporary society. It
bears reminding that some type of similar plea for a deeper understanding of the United
States has accompanied most of the writings analyzed in this dissertation. Gilberto Freyre
comically argued against most Latin Americans’ ignorance of the United States in his
crônicas for Diário de Pernambuco. Lobato insisted that the United States must be seen
and measured for its greatness to be best comprehended. Erico Verissimo most
vehemently of all these writers begged that his readers (and that even himself as a travel
276
Em presença do novo, do imprevisto, do desmesurado, do ainda não definitivamente consagrado,
suspendem, em sobressalto, suas melhores reservas de receptividade para com a civilizaçãoo americana e
os seus valores (280).
277
Percebendo agora que estão em presença de algo novo e imenso, de algo que precisa ser encarado sem
prejuízos, compreenderão que esse algo novo só pode ser entendido através da posição do norte-americano
em face do conceito fundamental do passado (283).
238
writer) would free themselves of their preconceptions so that they could truly
comprehend their northern neighbor. Now Moog also reiterates that Brazilians must truly
understand the United States’ past and its society’s approach to that past. The common
thread in all of these texts, whether they praise or condemn the United States, is that
prejudices must be abandoned to better connect with that country. A brief analysis of
Alceu Amoroso Lima’s 1954 work, A realidade americana, in which he confesses to his
prejudices and then tries to remedy them, will conclude this chapter.
Alceu Amoroso Lima’s American Reality: Brazil’s and the United States’
Complementary Roles in a New World Order
Alceu Amoroso Lima is recognized as one of the most important Catholic
intellectuals of Brazil in the twentieth century. He was a prolific writer and thinker who
published several influential works of Catholic thought in the 1930s, and continued on to
an illustrious career as a diplomat and journalist. He held the same office of Director of
Cultural Affairs at the Pan-American Union that Erico Verissimo would later occupy, a
position that gave him the type of intimacy with the United States that spawned his 1954
book A realidade americana. Until the publication of this book he was known for a
certain level of skepticism in regards to the United States. As such a staunch Catholic,
and a committed humanist, he was suspicious of the United States, the world’s center of
secular capitalism. This thesis title, “Admirable but not Imitable” comes from Moniz
Bandeira’s analysis of a text entitled “Eles e nós” that Lima published in the 1920s under
the pseudonym Tristão de Athayde. According to Marcelo Timótheo da Costa, his
resistance to the United States as a potential model was part of an overall distaste for the
United States that characterizes Lima’s earlier writing, “Alceu, at least since the 1930s,
239
had an acutely critical, negative image of the United States” 278 (167). Costa attributes this
to Lima’s general lack of appreciation for the modern and the secular, “Along with the
idea of the prevalence of machine over man and the masses over the individual, Amoroso
Lima’s antipathy in relation to the United States was also due to what he considered to be
the predominant desacralizing aspects in North American society 279”(169). The United
States represented all that was opposed to Lima’s Catholic, humanist vision of the world.
Lima begins his description of the United States in his book with a description of
Manhattan as an Adamastor at the entrance to the Hudson River (16). Adamastor, a
monstrous character in Camões’s Lusíadas, is a long resonant symbolic figure of
Lusitanian ambition, achievement and hubris. He promises to the audacious Portuguese
explorers, “I wait here, if I’m not mistaken/To take my vengeance on who has discovered
me/And this shall not be the only damage…Shipwrecks, perdition of all types/Of which
death will be the least” 280 (Camões) For Lima to describe the towers of Manhattan as a
new Adamastor is to open his text with commentary both on the awe-inspiring scale of
North American power and prosperity, but also, to a reader familiar with Camões, a
critique of the hubris of that society. Furthermore, the presence of Adamastor could serve
as a warning to those coming from afar who choose to delve deeper into the heart of the
monster. Marcelo Timothéo da Costa and Sérgio Luiz Prado Bellei both comment on the
symbolism of Lima’s dark description of his first encounter with the United States, with
Bellei even connecting this monstrous aspect of the United States to José Martí’s
278
Alceu, pelo menos desde os anos 30, tinha uma imagem agudamente crítica, negativa dos EUA (167).
279
Aliada à idéia da prevalência da máquina sobre o homem e da massa sobre o indivíduo, a antipatia de
Amoroso lima em relação aos Estados Unidos se devia também ao que considerava ser o predomínio de
aspectos dessacralizaidores na sociedade norteamericana (169).
280
Aqui espero tomar, se não me engano/De quem me descobriu suma vingança/E não se acabará só nisto o
dano...Naufrágios, perdições de toda a sorte/Que o menor mal de todos seja a morte” (Camoes)
240
warnings that the United States can be a conquering dragon (4). Both Costa and Bellei
also take note of Lima’s description of the Statue of Liberty, in which he comments on
the difficulty he has making out the statue when confronted with New York’s imposing
skyline and writes, “The symbol of the 19th Century had disappeared in the face of the
symbol of the 20th. Liberty was disappearing in the face of power” 281(16). This is a bleak
introduction to the United States for his Brazilian readers, a gloomier painting of the
economic and architectural dynamism they may have encountered in descriptions of New
York in Monteiro Lobato, Verissimo and even the young Freyre.
Costa confirms this pessimistic interpretation when he writes, “With the United
States, at first, his experience had nothing of the enjoyable, Amoroso’s record is
unequivocally dolorous, to use terms familiar to a believer like Alceu” 282(171). The main
argument of Costa’s article, however, is that Alceu, in spite of his desire to, “confirm in
loco his condemnation” (169), produced a generally positive interpretation of the United
States for the Brazilian public. He concludes:
Alceu, to his surprise, rediscovers a country that was quite different from
the one he had previously conceived: instead of the desolating scene
marked by mechanization and the consequent crushing of man, the
traveler began to have largely positive opinion of the United States in its
most diverse aspects. 283 (183).
Lima’s work has much more in common with Verissimo’s Gato preto books or even
Monteiro Lobato’s América than it does with Eduardo Prado’s scathing A ilusão
281
O símbolo do século XIX desaparecera em face do símbolo do séculoXX. A liberdade sumia em face do
poder” (16)
282
Quanto aos EUA, de início, a experiência nada tinha de gozosa, o registro amorosiano é
inequivocamente doloroso, para se usar termos familiars ao universe de um crente como Alceu. (171)
283 Alceu, surpreso, redescobre um país bastante diferente do previamente concebido: em vez do deolador
cenário marcado pela mecanização e pelo consequente esmagamento do homem, o viajante passa a ter uma
opnião prevalentemente positive dos EUA, Nos sues mais diversos aspectos. (183)
241
americana or even Moog’s work with its diagnosis of North American neuroses and
explications of fundamental flaws and paradoxes of the nation’s ethos. Lima himself
comments on his book’s connection to Prado’s. He concludes his book by pointing out
that A ilusão americana was published the same year that Lima was born: “Sixty years
later, as I write this pages, the thought of refuting [Prado’s work] did not cross my mind.
But what I saw in the United States, I must say in good faith, was not an illusion, It was,
on the contrary, a reality. A great and even touching reality” 284 (246). Lima is, like the
other writers examined in this dissertation, reinforcing the importance of firsthand
experience in the building of a stronger understanding of the United States.
As mentioned above, one observes more similarities between this work and
Verissimo’s or even Monteiro Lobato’s than to Moog’s more critical and analytical
project. Where the Gato preto books are more classically structured travel narratives that
chronologically follow the author’s journey through the United States, albeit with
innovations like the Q&A epilogue of the first book and the simulated dialogues with his
fabricated interlocutors Fernanda and Tobias in the second, Lima’s book is more of a
descriptive essay. Rather than following his travels, the text is divided into thematic
chapters in which he describes in depth his impressions of various aspects of United
States society, economy, culture and religion. A realidade americana comes across as a
more serious work than the Gato preto books or América. That said, there is some of the
sense of wide-eyed joy at discovering the United States that the reader encounters in
Verissimo’s books. Costa comments, “The pleasure recorded in this book is similar in its
284 Sessenta anos mais tarde, ao escrever estas páginas, não me passou pela cabeça a mais vaga ideia de
refutação. Mas o que vi nos Estados Unidos, devo dizer lealmente, não foi uma ilusão. Foi, ao contrário,
uma realidade. Uma grande e até patética realidade (246).
242
simplicity to that experienced by a child. His narrative style also contains an almost
childlike purity” 285(173). In addition, Lima shares Verissimo’s enthusiasm for U.S.
education, for the museums and libraries, and for the general open friendly nature of the
North Americans he meets. He is as effusive in his praise of the overall goodness of
North Americans and in the accessibility and effectiveness of education and culture as
Verissimo is exhaustive in his descriptions of people, libraries and museums.
The comparison with Vianna Moog is more complicated. While both books were
published in the same year and both share an essayistic style, there is a fundamental
difference in mission. Whereas Moog saw himself as an important essayist and
contributor to an interpretation of the United States as well as one of Brazil, Lima humbly
reminds his readers that these are but the limited observations of one man who had yet to
even visit the West Coast of the United States (222). He poetically complains of his
project, “....the image of a country of a people is something as subtle and as fleeting as
the image of a soul” 286 (224). He distances himself from Moog’s type of project, and
claims that Brazilians possess a “natural tendency to make generalizations” (35). For the
author, this tendency to generalize is one of the greatest differences between Brazilians
and North Americans:
One of the most lively contrasts between the Brazilian and the American
that we shall confront more carefully in this book’s conclusion is precisely
285
O prazer registrado assemelha-se em simplicidade aos experimentados por uma criança. A forma de seu
relato também guarda uma pureza quase infantil (173).
286
...imagem de um pais ou de um povo é qualquer coisa tão sútil e tão fugitivo como a imagem de uma
alma (224).
243
our natural tendency to make generalizations, as opposed to the more
concrete and positive spirit of our brothers to the North 287 (35).
He apologizes for some of his own generalizations in the book:
I brought up these preliminary observations out of concern to preserve the
objectivity of my observations, and with the presupposition that our
Brazilian tendency to make broad generalizations runs the risk of missing
the trees for the forest 288 (38).
Lima does indeed generalize extensively about the United States, but he tries to support
this with concrete examples. He seems less concerned with underlying guidelines and
master narratives than Moog. He does not tell the tale of the rise and fall of a great
civilization that Moog does.
Though he acknowledges flaws in the United States, particularly in the realm of
economy and politics, he does so out of a genuine concern for a society he has grown to
admire. He describes profound problems in the state of U.S. democracy that reflect
Freyre’s concerns about the growing mediocrity of the United States in the 1920s,
“…democracy has been converted, purely and simply, into majority rule, in defense of
the maintenance of existing conditions” 289 (139). He attributes the rise of MacArthurism,
a form of chauvinistic militaristic jingoism named for General Douglas MacArthur; of
MacCarthyism and the anti-communist witch hunts affecting North American politicians,
artists and intellectuals; and to the growing power of an economic plutocracy. He does
287
Um dos mais vivos contrastes entre o brasileiro e o americano, que mais detidamente confrontaremos na
conclusão deste livro, é precisamente a nossa tendência natural à generalização, em face do espírito
concreto e positivo dos nossos irmãos do Norte. Por isso mesmo é com muita hesitação que entro no
terreno das observações coletivas em relação aos homens e às instituições (35).
288
Fui levado a essas observações preliminares pelo cuidado de preservar a objetividade destas
observações, partindo do pressuposto de nossa tendência brasileira às fáceis generalizações e do perigo de
tomar a floresta pela árvore (38).
289
Exatamente proque a democracia se converteu, pura e simplesmente, na maioria, em defesa das
condições existentes. (138)
244
not see these phenomena as evidence of foundational flaws or societal paradoxes like
Moog does with his criticisms of the contemporary United States. Rather, he believes that
democracy in the United States can overcome these challenges if it struggles against
those current negative influences. He quotes Frederic Ozanam, founder of the Saint
Vincent de Paul Society, who refers to, “… a tranquil and disciplined democracy, in
which the forces of tradition unite with the forces of progress…” 290 (156). Like all of the
other Brazilian interpreters of the United States examined in this project, he also criticizes
racism in the United States, but he does not claim that Brazil represents a better approach
to the question of race. He writes:
We cannot pride ourselves too much on our superiority in solving this
same problem, since, though we may have less social discrimination, we
have much more economic and cultural discrimination between blacks and
whites in our country 291(59).
Lima differs with Moog even in the discussion of the contrasting theological
underpinnings of the two countries. Whereas Moog stresses that the United States is a
Protestant nation as opposed to Catholic Brazil, Lima openly disputes the assertion that
the United States is a “Protestant country,” but rather claims that it is a country where,
independent of creed, “There is a religious spirit in which action prevails over
contemplation, in which the social has primacy over the mystic, the rational over the
passionate, the individual over the collective, coexistence over unification… 292(187). He
290
democracia tranquila e disciplinada, em que as forças da tradição se unem às forças do progresso (156).
291
Mas não nos orgulhemos demais de nossa superioridade na solução de problema idêntico, pois se temos
menos discriminações sociais, temos muito mais discriminações econômicas e culturais, entre negros e
brancos, em nosso país (59).
292
É uma espírito religioso em que a ação predomina sobre a contemplação, em que o social tem primazia
sobre o místico, o racional sobre o passional, o indivíduo sobre a coletividade, a coexistecnia sobre a
unificação...(187)
245
claims that Catholicism is robust in the United States, albeit it in a distinctly North
American form.
Given all of these differences, both writers do come to similar, somewhat PanAmerican conclusions. The fundamental message of Lima’s work, much like that of
Moog’s, is that Brazil and the United States complement one another. Lima begins his
conclusion:
What I want argue here, at the close of these pages of liberation, is that we
are two complementary peoples, two civilizations that reciprocally balance
each other, and that should neither oppose nor imitate one another, but
should indeed complement the other because we have what they lack and
they have what we lack. 293(227)
This argument is almost the same as Moog’s in Bandeirantes…, and it was a logical
argument for two representatives of a Catholic intellectual elite that disapproved of
Soviet-style secularism but was also ill at ease with the brash, capitalist United States as
the standard bearer of Western Civilization. By including Brazil on the side of the United
States, not as a mere follower, but as a partner that possesses elements the United States
lacks, these writers try to make a potential allegiance with a new, arrogant superpower,
that had already left a poor impression on Brazilians, into a more palatable enterprise.
Lima pulls no punches in his recognition of the power imbalance between the countries.
He neither excoriates nor praises his homeland in the way that Moog does in
Bandeirantes… Rather, he gives Brazil and the rest of Latin America credit where it is
due when he claims, “The sense of human dignity, of a Christian humanism, is one of the
points on which Brazilian civilization rests, along with the rest of Latin America, and
293
O que quero aqui sustentar, ao encerrar estas páginas de libertação, é que somos dois povos
complementares, duas civilizações que se equilibram reciprocamente e que não devem, nem se opor nem se
imitar, mas se complementar, pois temos aquilo que lhes falta e eles tem aquilo que nos falta. (227)
246
where it has much to teach the individualism of English America” 294 (233). He clarifies
that in Brazil it is the person, a member of an interconnected social world, who is valued,
not the individual, and that this conception of the world is closer to the order of nature
than the individualism of the United States (233). He doubts, however, that the United
States will care to learn this lesson from Brazil, as it is already too established in its
hierarchical position of power on the global stage, and too set in its social structure.
Brazil, on the other hand, as a developing nation looks to the United States as a
potential model, something that, in spite of the transformation of his appreciation for the
United States, Lima cautions against. The United States is ever more admirable, but even
less imitable. Since the successful United States will never look to Brazil as a role model,
Brazil should avoid doing the same with the United States. In his article, Bellei believes
that Lima’s acceptance of this power imbalance and of Brazil’s subordinate role in the
leadership of Western civilization is his way of acknowledging the potential imperialist
danger that the United States presents, Martí’s dragon, while still staying loyal to the PanAmerican values to which he had been so loyal (6). Though Lima explicitly dismisses
any concerns over U.S. imperialism in the conclusion to his book by claiming that this
goes counter to general tendencies in United States society, he still encourages a certain
level of resistance. Though his overall interpretation of the United States has changed for
the better, Lima still denies the country status as a role model:
...it is not because, somewhere between Mexico and Canada there is a
civilization and a type of man developing that will serve as a model for
humanity. Exactly to the contrary, because humanity can still learn that are
294
O sentido da dignidade da pessoa humana, do humanismo cristão, é um dos pontos em que a
civilizaçãoo brasileira assenta, como a de toda América latina, e onde tem muito que ensinar ao
individualismo da América inglesa. (233)
247
no earthly models for civilization or for men. There is but one Master and
but one Father. 295 (245)
Through a commitment to a Catholic, or at least Christian, worldview, Lima believes that
both countries can move toward the future without trying to unduly influence the other.
This message lacks Freyre’s nationalist rallying around Luso-Brazilian culture as the best
way to combat racial and ethnic prejudice and spread Western civilization or Moog’s
optimistic vision of a Latin and Catholic leadership that will resolve the crises of Western
civilization. It is, however, a principled and realistic plea for Brazilians to guard the
positive aspects of their civilization and avoid the temptations of the United States.
In spite of their differences, larger works like Lima’s and Moog’s, not to mention
Queiroz’s and Freyre’s shorter texts illustrate the increasing level of interest in and
concern with the United States among Brazilian intellectuals in the face of growing U.S.
power during the Cold War. While these writers continue to manifest a certain sense of
awe at the United States, in some cases, particularly Queiroz’s, this is less of a fascination
with the progress of U.S. civilization and more a repulsion at arrogance and carelessness
in a world where the United States has taken the weight of the Western World on its
shoulders. Freyre and Moog begin to highlight the cracks in the morality of the mighty
nation. Though Freyre had been doing this since his student days, he was now pointing to
Brazil as a superior model, at least in terms of inter “ethnic” relations. Moog saw less to
praise in Brazil, but he did agree with Freyre on race relations, and furthermore, saw his
nation as headed in the right direction while the United States was headed in the wrong
one. Finally, Lima, the seeming exceptional case in this group given his improved
295
...não é porque se esteja elaborando, entre o México e o Canadá, uma civilização e um tipo de homem
que venham servir de modelo à humanidade. Mas exatamente ao contrário, porque a humanidade pode até
aprender que não há modelos terrenos de civilizaçãoo e de homens. Só há um Mestre e só há um Pai.
248
opinion of the United States, continued to maintain that Brazil should stand up to the
United States and hold on to its distinct identity. Whether interpreting or critiquing the
United States, all of these writers highlighted the importance of knowing the country
better. Unlike the 1930s, or even 1940s this was not a case of better comprehending the
United States as way of discovering a path for Brazil; it was now a case of survival as a
distinct society in the face of a global superpower that was simultaneously familiar and
threatening. These texts can be read as pre-emptive attempts to define the relationship
between the two hemispheric giants on Brazilian terms. With the change in hemispheric
power dynamics that would follow the Cuban Revolution of 1959, the United States
would take on an ever more engaged position in Latin American affairs. This United
States, more engaged with its neighbors to the south but also more prone to interference
in the politics of countries like Brazil, would be neither admirable, even as millions were
compelled to imitate.
249
Conclusion
When Americans recognize foreign evaluations and interpretations of the United
States, these are frequently summarized reductively as awe or jealousy at the country’s
success and standard of living, or merely dismissed as the result of impenetrable clashes
of culture or civilization. Attempts at deeper explanation of outside perceptions can
remain self-centered, focused on the United States’ admittedly long record of dark deeds
abroad and how these have contributed to international criticism or repulsion. While this
approach certainly is more nuanced than reductionist explanations of envy or cultural
misunderstanding, they still maintain an inward focus, thus ignoring complex historical,
intellectual and political factors rooted in other societies themselves, which inform those
societies’ attitudes toward the United States as much as U.S. actions have. Through my
analysis in this dissertation, I have tried to build understanding of at least the Brazilian
side of this transnational . Brazil is the other giant of the Western Hemisphere; it is a
country that parallels the United States in many ways historically, demographically and
geographically, while being marginalized in economic and geopolitical configurations of
power; it is a nation worth the attention of readers in the United States.
In the introduction to his anthology of foreign (mostly British) interpretations of
the United States, Stephen Brooks raises an alarm at Americans’ ignorance of the
impression they have left abroad, an ignorance he compares to the curiosity Tocqueville
encountered two hundred years before: “It may be that one of the consequences of
becoming the world’s only remaining superpower has been to desensitize Americans to
the world’s opinion” (4). Brooks goes on to say that the attacks of September 11, 2001,
should illustrate very clearly the importance of U.S. familiarity with outside impressions
250
of the country. In his study of foreign perspectives on the United States, American
Avatar, Barry Sanders comments, “Paradoxically, one of the most persistent negative
images of America is that it is inward looking, self-absorbed, and ignorant of the outside
world” (4).Though Sanders argues against this image by claiming that the United States
would not be so familiar to the rest of the world were it not so internationally engaged,
the texts highlighted in this dissertation are clearly illustrate his initial postulation. Freyre,
Lobato 296, Verissimo and Queiroz all criticized U.S. ignorance of and insensitivity
toward their homeland, and to their credit, they tried to balance this critique by better
informing their Brazilian readers of the United States itself. Similarly, a writer like
Sanders, while he may criticize negative foreign impressions of the United States, he at
least attempts to illuminate his readers on the formation of this point of view.
Sanders attributes some of the antipathy toward the United States to a lack of
intimate experiences with the country on the part of its foreign interpreters. While he
sings the praises of the personal travelogue as, “a fertile source for imagery of America,”
he also raises the following caveat:
For every person who visits the United States for a firsthand look, there
are multitudes who never come. Their images of the United States are
based only on what others tell them: accounts of travelers, parents, friends,
journalists, teachers, religious leaders, politicians or others. The clouds
and distortions in these lenses are so thick that any accurate realities
derived from these accounts would be by sheer luck. (7)
Sanders’s description of foreign images of the United States being subject to the vagaries
of various levels of interpretation may be accurate, but it denies the actual foreign people
who form these images an awareness of this process. As we have seen from the writers
analyzed in this dissertation, there was indeed a deep awareness of these manipulations
296
Though Lobato found this ignorance justified given what he perceived as Brazil’s lack of serious
contributions to the world.
251
among Brazilian interpreters of the United States. We can refer to Freyre’s 1921 article
on Latin American prejudices toward the United States, where he pleas for more
“earnestness,” when dealing with the United States as well as to Verissimo’s owns stated
desire to view the United States as autonomously and objectively as possible, which he
complements with imagined dialogues with other Brazilians. We can recall Vianna
Moog’s imagined trajectory of a Brazilian intellectual, first skeptical of the U.S.
vulgarity, then enamored by U.S. dynamism, and finally able to view the country from a
more balanced position in addition to Amoroso Lima’s own admission of his pleasant
surprise at the better aspects of U.S. society. These figures were all aware of their key
role as conveyors and analysts of the United States for a population that would have
precious little opportunity to experience that country firsthand, and their discussions of
the country are permeated by a distinct awareness of the privilege and pitfalls of this
mediatory position. Their role as interpreters of the United States originating from a
specifically Brazilian context was especially important in the face of the many
representations of the United States made available to Brazilians through Hollywood
films and other U.S. cultural exports.
There have been relatively few Brazilians who have studied the United States
beyond the intellectuals examined in my work, a reality commented on by Lúcia Lippi
Oliveira in Americanos:
The presence of the American way of life in Brazilian life stands out, and,
with each day, new sectors of Brazilian life are incorporated into the codes
of North American modernity. And yet, academic space for the realization
of comparative studies between Brazil and the United States has been
greatly reduced among us. 297 (19)
297
A presença do american way of life na vida brasileira é marcante e, a cada dia, novas esferas da vida
brasileira se incorporam aos códigos da modernidade norte-americana. Entretanto, o espaço acadêmico para
a realização de estudos comparativos entre o Brasil e os EUA tem sido bastante reduzido entre nós. (19)
252
Oliveira published those words nearly fifty years after the last work analyzed in this
dissertation was published, and yet, they display the same concern that Brazilians lack
sufficient understanding of the United States that can be encountered in writers from the
first half of the twentieth century. The role of the United States in world affairs has only
grown since the days of Gilberto Freyre and Monteiro Lobato. Brazilians need wellinformed interpreters of the United States, thinkers who build deeper comprehension of
that country while never abandoning a Brazilian context, as much as people in the United
States need further knowledge of outside perspectives. This dissertation’s attempt to track
Brazilian intellectual discourse regarding the United States during a pivotal period in
Brazil’s history can both help Brazilian scholars in their endeavors to analyze the United
States as well as to provide a valuable external perspective to people in the United States.
The varied discourses I present in my research, sometimes within the work of one writer,
highlight the complex relationship between the hemispheric colossi. For people in the
United States curious about foreign perceptions, the guiding questions should not be
limited to, “Why do foreigners hate us?” or “What did we do wrong?” We need to ask
more questions like, “What do they like about us, and why that in particular?,” “What
makes them see us that way?,” “If they like us so much, why don’t they change?,” and
above all, “How does this new information influence my own self-conception as an
American?”
What are the larger scale lessons of these Brazilian writers for a U.S. reader?
Through these dislocated texts that nevertheless speak to us of our past we can feel pride
in our efficiency and entrepreneurial spirit while recognizing the potential dehumanizing
253
aspects of a focus on profit and an obsession with time. We can admire the apparent
efficacy of our democracy and fair implementation of the rule of law while cringing at
the documentation of racial injustices that deny this democracy to all citizens. We can
look in awe at the intellectual and cultural vivacity of a country on its rise to global
dominance while appreciating critiques of the massification, mediocrity and moralization
of cultural life that could still be made today. In addition to lessons about the inner life of
the United States at this point in history, U.S. readers also get a harsh lesson in their
seeming ignorance of Brazil, and about the asymmetries of Brazil-United States relations.
The eagerness on the part of these writers to point out U.S. ignorance and to compare,
both positively and negatively, Brazil to the United States, are an invaluable portrayal of
the center-periphery dynamic between the two countries that U.S. readers may not
comprehend as easily. This constant comparison and valiant defense against
misinformation are symptomatic of this imbalanced configuration. The mere gesture of
writing a Brazilian interpretation of the United States, regardless of its overall evaluation
of that society, is an attempt at creating greater balance in the encounter between the
nations.
These works’ upsetting of the power and knowledge dynamic between the United
States and Brazil seems to beg a pure postcolonial or decolonial reading. That said, such
approaches to the analysis of the texts presented in this dissertation can be quickly
problematized. One can read the travelogues and interpretive essays of Lobato, Verissimo
and Lima in the light of work by Mary Baine Campbell and Debbie Lisle on travel
narrative and the upholding of colonialist perspectives. This reading, however, cannot
fully account for the assertion of national intellectual sovereignty that these writers
254
accomplish through their examination of the other. Though these writers (perhaps Lobato
more than the others), recognize their subaltern status in relation to the United States,
they also resist U.S. supremacy and are able to transform the center into the Other, a
society that can be evaluated and deconstructed just as the center has done to Brazil for
centuries.
A decolonial approach, influenced by the work of Walter Mignolo, may therefore
seem more appropriate, as it attempts to disavow the supremacy of the European/North
American perspective in the articulation of intercultural encounters. This approach aligns
the struggles against Western imperialism with struggles for racial and economic justice.
While shared revolutionary discourses that became prominent in Latin America and the
United States from the 1950s onward have eloquently managed to link these struggles as
part of a struggle for a more just world, these intersectionalities do not scan as well onto
an analysis of Brazilian interpreters of the United States before 1960. Prado was very
aware of the negative repercussions of U.S. imperialism, but he also embraced European
values and supported an elitist monarchist model for Brazil. As has been illustrated
abundantly in this thesis, Freyre, in spite of his resistance to U.S. imperialism, was unable
to recognize the very real racial injustices that were a part of Brazilian society, and
furthermore, embraced a waning Portuguese colonialist project at a time that put him on
the wrong side of history. Monteiro Lobato occupies a particularly paradoxical position
in this juxtaposition of anti-imperialist and other struggles. Though he embraced the
United States whole-heartedly as a model for development, he was also a nationalist who
wanted the Brazilian government to establish an oil industry, and who, through his
children’s literature project, tried to create an alternative to European cultural models.
255
Furthermore, these Brazilian interpretations of the United States cannot easily be
examined from this critical approach, given that none of these writers separated
themselves from the Western tradition. Rather than resisting that tradition, these writers
strongly embraced it, and in the view of Prado, Freyre, Vianna Moog and Lima, saw
Brazil and the Latin world as more worthy inheritors of the best of Western, Christian
civilization than the dehumanized United States. Due to Brazil’s marginal global status it
is often easy to deny its position in the Western World. Milton Nascimento eloquently
summarizes this in the 1970 song “Para Lennon e McCartney,” “Why don’t you see the
Western trash…Why won’t you see my Western side” 298 (Nascimento). These were
multi-faceted thinkers who tried to articulate a mutable and complex international
relationship. Instead of approaching these texts from a particular theoretical background
or ideological preconception, it is best to recognize and embrace this complexity. Recent
scholarship on Brazil’s international relations shows an appreciation for this deep
complexity and the apparent paradoxes that may emerge.
Thomas Skidmore describes what he sees as a change in tone of Brazilian
discussions of the United States following the military coup of 1964, and highlights
Moniz Bandeira’s history of U.S. interference in Brazilian affairs as an example of this.
That said, the U.S.-backed military dictatorship itself also clashed with the United States
in a variety of spheres. Jerry Dávila has documented Brazil’s surprisingly independent
foreign policy in regard to Africa in his masterful Hotel Trópico, an approach that put the
country at odds with the United States in cases like the recognition of the MPLA
government in Angola. Paulina Alberto reveals the military regime’s suspicion of U.S.
popular culture and their persecution of the “infiltration” of U.S. discourse on race in
298
Porque vocês não sabem do lixo ocidental…Porque você não verá meu lado ocidental.” (Nascimento)
256
relation to the Black Rio movement in her article, “When Rio Was Black.” Documenting
the other side of this relationship there is James Green’s recent history of U.S. opposition
to the Brazilian military dictatorship, We Cannot Remain Silent, which tells the stories of
U.S. academics, clergy, artists and even politicians who helped in the struggle against the
dictatorship their government had helped to install.
Moving on to recent years, Kirk Bowman’s analysis of more contemporary antiAmericanism in Brazil highlights other paradoxes. Bowman finds that, “...anti-US
sentiment in Brazil was widespread and potent as the largest nation in Latin America
entered the twenty-first century” (140), and details Brazilian opinions that often stress
North American ignorance and arrogance. He also claims that these negative views of the
United States have amplified in recent years due to more contact between critical
marginal activists in both Brazil and the United States, and a lack of alignment between
Brazilian and U.S. elites in a post-industrialized, post Cold War context. This
examination of anti-Americanism in the Brazilian elite is interesting, as it would seem
that such elites would have the most to gain from backing the world’s sole remaining
superpower. The deeper understanding of Brazil-United States relations brought about by
the study of earlier Brazilian interpreters of the United States better illuminates the type
of complexities that can explain such counterintuitive tendencies. Brazilian elites
connected to corporations both state-owned (such as Petrobrás), and private (such as
Odebrecht), have a great deal to gain by resisting a U.S. model of global capitalism that
concentrates economic power in the hands of a financial system based in the Global
North. Brazilian activists focused on racial, social and environmental justice, who may
257
have historically harbored antipathy for the United States, are now connected to North
American activists who share interests as never before.
Changes in communication, in the global economy and in the geopolitical
arrangement of the world have served to break down certain monolithic images of the
other that may have existed in the relationship between Brazil and the United States. For
some people in the United States, Brazil may still be a Latin American mystery as it was
when Freyre and Verissimo visited, but it is now the home of the company that owns
such iconic U.S. brands as Anheuser-Busch and Burger King. For some Brazilians, the
United States may represent the dehumanizing power of global capital and a danger to
national sovereignty, but U.S.-based activist and philanthropic groups now work with
Brazilians fighting for environmental sustainability, racial justice, and a less violent
police force. As more North Americans and more Brazilians gain firsthand experience of
the Other and even more have better access to learn about the Other via the internet,
language study, and increased access to higher education, a better understanding of the
multi-faceted complexities of Brazil-United States relations will continue to develop. For
Americans to successfully navigate these encounters with Brazil, they need to
comprehend their historically privileged position in relation to Brazil and heed the
lessons that Brazilian intellectuals have to teach them about that relationship and about
the United States itself. As Kirk Bowman points out, “Due to the self-perceived
correlation between country size/population and prestige/international muscle, Brazilians
see a much greater need to demand equal treatment than do others in the hemisphere”
(142).
258
These relations will continue to change, as they have throughout and since the
time period studied in this thesis (for a particularly nuanced and compelling examination
of Brazil’s prominent role in the Global South in a world of declining neoliberalism see
Paul Amar’s The Security Archipelago), and we are best served by understanding that
neither Brazil nor the United States is static in this relationship. We must learn how our
predecessors in this international encounter have conceived of this relationship, while
recognizing the process they underwent to develop those conceptions. The writers
highlighted in this dissertation all exhibited awareness of the mutability of these
conceptions, and of the limitations of any attempt at portraying such a large and complex
other. Perhaps it is these meditations on the difficulties of conveying the Other to one’s
readership, particularly when there is an asymmetrical power dynamic to surmount, that
are the most resonant lesson of these texts. Each of these authors very consciously
explores this theme as part of their own construction of a sovereign Brazilian subjectivity
that only enhances their interpretation of the Other above the Equator, a service rendered
for the benefit of their countrymen. Such a feat necessitates a sharpened sense of selfawareness, an understanding of global power dynamics, and skill at conveying messages
to the broader public. Proficiency in these competencies can enhance each of our own
encounters with the Other, encounters to which we bring, consciously or not, or own
personal and national intellectual subjectivities.
259
Bibliography
Alberto, Paulina. “When Rio Was Black: Soul Music, National Culture, and the Politics
of Racial Comparison in 1970s Brazil.” Hispanic American Historical Review.
89.1 (2009). 3-39. Duke University Press. Web. 6 Apr. 2016.
Amar, Paul. The Security Archipelago: Human-Security States, Sexuality Politics and the
End of Neoliberalism. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2013. Print.
Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities. 1983. New York: Verso, 1991. Print.
Araújo, Ricardo Benzaquen de. Guerra e paz: Casa-grande e senzala e a obra de
Gilberto Freyre nos anos 30. São Paulo: Editora 34, 1994. Print.
Azevedo, Carmen Lúcia de Azevedo, Márcia Camargos and Vladimir Sacchetta.
Monteiro Lobato: Furacão na Botocúndia. São Paulo: Senac, 1997. Print.
Baker, Andy and David Cupery. “Anti-Americanism in Latin America: Economic
Exchange, Foreign Policy Legacy, and Mass Attitudes toward the Colossus of the
North.” Latin American Research Review. 48.2 (2013) 106-130. Project Muse.
Web. 23 Mar 2016.
Bandeira, Moniz. Presença dos Estados Unidos no Brasil (Dois séculos de história). 2nd
Ed. Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1978. Print.
Beezley, C.D. Letter to J.H. Matter. 11 Feb. 1943. TS. Acervo Literário Erico Verissimo.
Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
Bell, Thomas H. Letter to Joaquim Nabuco. 16 Nov. 2016. MS. Joaquim Nabuco
Correspondence, Fundação Joaquim Nabuco, Recife.
260
Bellei, Sérgio Luiz Prado. “American Culture in Brazil: The Search for Strategies of
Reading.”American Studies International. 26.2 (1988). 3-9. JSTOR. Web. 5 Apr.
2016.
Bittencourt, Elaine. “Monteiro Lobato, o Nostradamus brasileiro.” Gazeta Mercantil. 14
Nov 2008. p. 4. ProQuest. Web. 5 Apr. 2016.
Bowman, Kirk. “Battle for the Heart of the Heavyweight: Anti-Americanism in Brazil.”
Anti-Americanism in Latin America and the Caribbean. Ed. Alan McPherson.
New York: Bergbahn Books, 2006. 140-164. Print.
Braga, Adolfo. “Prisioneiros.” A liberdade de escrever. Org. Maria da Glória Bordini.
Porto Alegre: Editora da Universidade, 1996. 27-33. Print.
Brazil. Assembléia Constituente. 144th Session. Anais da Assembléia Constituente de
1946. Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1946. Print.
Brennan, Timothy. "The National Longing for Form" Nation and Narration. Ed. Homi K.
Bhabha. New York: Routledge, 1990. 44-70. Print.
Brooke, James. “Natal Journal: Brazil’s Glory Days of B-25’s and Boogie-Woogie” New
York Times. 26 Apr, 1994. N pag. New York Times. Web. 10. Mar 2016.
Brooks, Stephen. America through Foreign Eyes: Classic Interpretations of American
Life. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Print.
Brown, Timothy Jr. “Monteiro Lobato As a Novelist.” Luso-Brazilian Review. 2.1.
Summer, 1965. JSTOR. Web.
Callado, Antônio. “À procura de influências anglo-americanas em Gilberto Freyre”
Gilberto Freyre: Sua ciência, sua filosofia, sua arte. Rio de Janeiro, Livraria
José Olympio, 1962. Print.
261
Caminha, Adolfo. No paíz dos yankees. Rio de Janeiro: Livraria Moderna, 1894. Project
Gutenberg. Web. 17 Mar 2016.
Camões, Luís de. Lusíadas. 1572. 4th Ed. Lisbon: Ministério dos Negócios Internacionais,
Instituto Camões, 2000. Centro Virtual Camões. Web. 22 Mar 2016.
Campbell, Mary Baine. “Travel writing and its theory.” The Cambridge Companion to
Travel Writing. Ed. Peter Hulme. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000.
261-278. Print.
Cândido, Antônio. Formação da literatura brasileira: Momentos decisivos. Vol.1. 1975.
Rio de Janeiro: Editora Itatiaia, 2000. Print.
_______________. “O significado de Raízes do Brasil.” 1967. Foreword. Raízes do
Brasil. 1936. 26th Ed. São Paulo: Editora Schwarcz, 2002. 9-21. Print.
Certeau, Michel de. “Montaigne's 'Of Cannibals': The Savage “I”. Heterologies:
Discourse on the Other. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 2000. 67-79. Print.
Costa, Marcelo Timótheo da. “E pluribus unum: a experiência americana de Alceu
Amoroso Lima.” Estudos históricos. 1.27 (2001). 166-187. FGV Biblioteca
Digital. Web. 10 Mar 2016.
Crandall, Britta H. Hemispheric Giants: The Misunderstood History of U.S.-Brazilian
Relations. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2011. Print.
Dávila, Jerry. Hotel Trópico: Brazil and the Challenge of African Decolonization, 19501980. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010. Print.
262
Dunn, Christopher. “A retomada freyreana.” Gilberto Freyre e os estudos latinoamericanos. Pittsburgh: Instituto Internacional de la Literatura Iberoamericana,
2006. Print.
Eakin, Marshall. Brazil: The Once and Future Country. New York: St. Martin’s Press,
1998. Print.
Eisenberg, Zena Winona, João Teles Júnior and Leonardo Fernandes Nascimento.
“Monteiro Lobato e o politicamente correto.” Revista Dados. 56.1. Jan 2013.
SciElo. Web. 6 Apr. 2016.
Fontes, Lílian. ABC de Rachel de Queiroz. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio Editora, 2012.
Print.
Freyre, Gilberto. Casa grande e senzala. 1933. 43a Ed. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Record,
2001. Print.
______________.“Estudos luso-brasileiros nos Estados Unidos.” Cruzeiro. 24 May 1952.
10. Print.
______________. Letter to Monteiro Lobato. 4 Apr. 1923. MS. Acervo Monteiro Lobato.
Instituto de Estudos da Linguagem. State University of Campinas.
_____________.“O Brasil: Democracia étnica.” Cruzeiro. 6 June 1953. 44. Print.
______________. “O Sr. Viana Moog em foco.” Cruzeiro. 2 June 1956. 48. Print.
______________. “Raça, preconceito e polícia. Cruzeiro 1953. 32. Print.
______________. Retalhos de jornais velhos. 2nd Ed. Rio de Janeiro: Livraria José
Olympio, 1964.
______________. Tempo de aprendiz. São Paulo: Ibrasa, 1978. Print.
263
Freyre, Gilberto. Tempo morto e outros tempos. Rio de Janeiro: Livraria José Olympio,
1975. Print.
Ginway, M. Elizabeth. “Monteiro Lobato’s O presidente negro (The Black President):
Eugenics and the Corporate State in Brazil.” Black and Brown Planets: The
Politics of Race in Science Fiction. Ed. Isaiah Lavender III. Jackson, MS:
University of Mississippi Press, 2014. 131-145. Print.
Goldberg, Isaac. “How Latin America Sees Us.” The American Mercury. December
1924. pp. 466-471. UNZ.org. Web. 23 Oct 2015.
Gordon, Eugene. An Essay on Race Amalgamation. Rio de Janeiro: Ministry of Foreign
Relations-Cultural Division, 1951. Print.
Gunther, John. Inside Latin America. New York: Harper Brothers, 1941. Print.
Hobsbawm, E.J. Nations and Nationalism since 1780. 1990. 2nd Ed. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2014. Print.
Holanda, Sérgio Buarque de. Raízes do Brasil. 1936. 26th Ed. São Paulo: Editora
Schwarcz, 2002. Print.
Kingsley, Myra. Letter to James Creelman. 4 Mar. 1941. TS. Acervo Literário Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
Kubler, George. Rev. of Bandeirantes e pioneiros: Paralelo entre duas culturas.
American Quarterly. 8.1 (1956) 81-82. JSTOR. Web. 22 Mar 2016.
Lajolo, Marisa. Monteiro Lobato, livro a livro: obra adulta. São Paulo: Editora UNESP,
2014. Print.
____________.“A figura do negro em Monteiro Lobato.” UNICAMP/IEL. (1998).
Monteiro Lobato e outros Modernismos Brasileiros. Web. 5 Apr. 2016.
264
Leeds, Eric J. The Mind of the Traveler. New York: Basic Books, 1991. Print.
Lima, Alceu Amoroso. A realidade americana. 1954. 2nd Ed. Rio de Janeiro: Livraria
AGIR Editora, 1955. Print.
Lisle, Debbie. The Global Politics of Contemporary Travel Writing. New York:
Cambridge University Press, 2006. Print.
Lispector, Clarice. “Não sou profundo.” A liberdade de escrever. Org. Maria da Glória
Bordini. Porto Alegre: Editora da Universidade, 1996. 19-25. Print.
Lopes, Mônica Lette. Letter to Mafalda Verissimo. 9 Apr. 1978. MS. Acervo Literário
Erico Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
Lobato, Monteiro. América. 1931. 11th Ed. São Paulo: Editora Brasiliense, 1962. Print.
______________. Letter to Mr. McDonald. No Date. TS. Acervo Monteiro Lobato.
Instituto de Estudos da Linguagem. State University of Campinas.
______________. O presidente negro: ou o choque das raças. 1927. São Paulo: Editora
Globo, 2008. Print.
______________.”Inglaterra e o Brasil.” BBC Radio. 10 Dec. 1940. TS. Acervo
Monteiro Lobato. Insituto de Estudos da Linguagem. State University of
Campinas. Transcript.
Lund, Joshua and Malcolm McNee. “Gilberto Freyre e o sublime brasileiro” Gilberto
Freyre e os estudos latino-americanos. Pittsburgh: Instituto Internacional de la
Literatura Iberoamericana, 2006. Print.
Maio, Marcos Chor. “Estoque semita: A presença dos judeus em Casa-Grande e
Senzala.” Luso-Brazilian Review. 36.1. (1999). 95-110. JSTOR. Web. 5 Apr.
2016.
265
Maio, Marcos Chor. “The UNESCO Project: Social Sciences and Race Studies in Brazil
in the 1950s.” Brazil 2001. Ed. João Cezar de Castro Rocha. Spec. issue of
Portuguese Literary and Cultural Studies 4/5 (2001). Print. 51-64.
McCann, Frank. “Brazil and the United States: Two Centuries of Relations.” Brazil-U.S.
Relations in the 20th and 21st Centuries. Eds. Sidnei Munhoz and Francisco Carlos
Teixeira da Silva. Maringá: Editora da Universidade Estadual de Maringá, 2013.
Print. 23-52.
_____________. “Brazil and World War II: The Forgotten Ally. What did you do in the
war Zé Carioca?” Estudios Interdisciplinários de América Latina y el Caribe. 6.2.
(1995). Web. 22 Mar 2016.
McKenney, Ruth. “Beware the Brazilian Navy.” The New Yorker. 10 Jul 1937. 28. The
New Yorker. Web. 10 Mar 2016.
Melo, Margarida. “O castigo de Chaplin.” Cruzeiro. 15 Aug 1953. 114. Print.
Mello, Gláucia Buratto Rodrigues de. “Fundamentos e Modelos Historiográficos da
Cultura Brasileira: Uma Abordagem Antropológica em Sérgio Buarque de
Holanda”. Memórias e construções de identidades. Eds. Maria Teresa Toribio
Brittes Lemos and Nilson Alves de Morais. Rio de Janeiro: 7Letras, 2000. 17-25.
Print.
Mignolo, Walter. “The Geopolitics of Knowledge and the Colonial Difference.” The
South Atlantic Quarterly. 101.1 (2002). 57-96. Print.
Milton, John. “The Resistant Political Translations of Monteiro Lobato.” The
Massachusetts Review. 47.3 (2006). 486-509. JSTOR. Web. 5 Apr 2016.
266
Moog, Clodomir Vianna. Bandeirantes e pioneiros: Paralelo entre duas culturas. 1954.
3rd Ed. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Globo, 1956. Print.
Moog, Clodomir Vianna. Letter to Erico Verissimo. 16 Dec 1942. TS. Acervo Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro. Print.
Nabuco, Joaquim. Letter to Visconde de Rio Branco, 15 Apr. 1905. MS. Joaquim Nabuco
Correspondence, Fundação Joaquim Nabuco, Recife.
______________. Letter to Graça Aranha, 16 Nov. 1906. MS. Joaquim Nabuco
Correspondence. Fundação Joaquim Nabuco, Recife.
Nascimento, Milton. “Para Lennon e McCartney.” Milton. 1970. EMI Music Brasil. LP.
Nathan, George Jean and H.L. Mencken. The American Credo. New York: Alfred
A.Knopf, 1920. Google Books. Web. 5 Apr 2016.
Neruda, Pablo. Letter to Erico Verissimo. 19 Nov. 1953. Acervo Literário Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
No author. “Érico Veríssimo aponta EUA como modelo da liberdade.” Jornal do Brasil.
17 Dec. 1972, sec. 1: 45. Print.
No author. “Hollywood Likes Myra Kingsley's Horoscopes” Life Magazine. 7 Aug. 1939.
41-45. Print.
Oliveira, Lúcia Lippi. Americanos: Representações da identidade nacional no Brasil e
nos EUA. Belo Horizonte: Editora UFMG, 2000. Print.
Pallares-Burke, Maria Lúcia Garcia. Gilberto Freyre: Um vitoriano dos trópicos. São
Paulo: Editora UNESP, 2005. Print.
Patai, Daphne. “Race and Politics in Two Brazilian Utopias.” Luso-Brazilian Review.
19.1. Summer, 1982. 67-81. JSTOR. Web.
267
Prado, Eduardo. A illusão americana. 1893. Prefácio. Augusto Frederico Schmidt. Rio de
Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1933. Print.
Queiroz, Rachel de. “Chaplin.” Cruzeiro. Nov. 1952. 114. Print.
______________. “Imperalismo.” Cruzeiro. 15 Apr. 1952. NP. Print.
______________. “Passaporte." Cruzeiro. 6 Feb. 1954. 98. Print.
______________. “A realidade americana.” Cruzeiro. 2 Oct. 1954. 114. Print.
______________. “Sacco e Vanzetti.” 1947. 100 crônicas escolhidas. 1958. 5th ed. Rio
de Janeiro: Editora José Olympio, 1977. 51-54.
______________. Tangerine-Girl.” 1947. Os cem melhores contos brasileiros do século.
Ed. Italo Moriconi. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Objetiva, 2000. Print. 159-164.
Ramos Júnior, José de Paula. “O jovem Gilberto Freyre.” Revista USP. 88. 2011. Revista
USP. Web. 5 Apr 2016.
Ross, John R. "Lynching," Handbook of Texas Online. Texas State Historical
Association. 15 Jun 2010. Web. 10 Oct 2015.
Salzman, Carl. “Peopling the Landscape.” They Went: The Art and Craft of Travel
Writing. Ed. William Zinsser. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1991. Print.
Sanders, Barry A. American Avatar: The United States in the Global Imagination.
Dulles, VA: Potomac Books, 2011. Print.
Schneider, Liane. “Rachel de Queiroz e os norte-americanos: para que serve um
dirigível.” Revista Diadorim. 7 (2010). 115-128. Web. 10 Mar 2016.
Schwarz, Roberto. “Misplaced Ideas: Literature and Society in Late-Nineteenth-Century
Brazil.” Trans. John Gledson. Misplaced Ideas: Essays on Brazilian Culture. New
York: Verso, 1992. 19-32. Print.
268
Shannon, Richard Cutts. Letter to Joaquim Nabuco, 16 Nov. 1906. MS. Joaquim Nabuco
Correspondence. Fundação Joaquim Nabuco, Recife.
Skidmore, Thomas. Black into White: Race and Nationality in Brazilian Thought. New
York: Oxford University Press, 1974. Print.
________________. Brazil: Five Centuries of Change. New York: Oxford University
Press, 1999. Print.
________________.“Brazil's American Illusion: From Dom Pedro II to Coup of 1964”
Luso-Brazilian Review. 23.2. Winter 1986. JSTOR. Web. 17 Mar 2016.
________________.“Raízes de Gilberto Freyre.” Gilberto Freyre em quatro tempos. Eds.
Ethel Volfson Kosminsky, Claude Lépine, Fernanda Arêas Peixoto. São Paulo:
Editora UNESP, 2003. Print.
Smith, Joseph. Brazil and the United States: Convergence and Divergence. Athens:
University of Georgia Press, 2010. Print.
Smith, Richard Candida. “Érico Veríssimo, a Brazilian cultural ambassador in the United
States.”Revista Tempo. 17.34 (2013). 147-173. SciELO. Web. 26 Aug. 2014.
Thompson, Carl. Travel Writing. New York: Routledge, 2011. Print.
Todorov, Tzvetan. “The Journey and Its Narratives.” The Morals of History. Trans.
Alyson Waters. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1995. 60-70. Print.
Tota, Antônio. O imperialismo sedutor: a americanização do Brasil na época da
Segunda Guerra. São Paulo: Editora Schwarz, 2000. Print.
Verissimo, Erico. “Alô Gangster!” Revista do Globo. 30 July 1938. 19+. Print.
______________. Gato Preto em campo de neve. 1941. 8th Ed. Porto Alegre: Editora
Globo, 1950. Print.
269
Verissimo, Erico. Gato Preto em campo de neve. 1941. TS. Acervo Literário Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
______________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 3 May 1943. TS. Acervo Erico Verissimo.
Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro. Print.
______________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 31 May 1943. TS. Acervo Erico Verissimo.
Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro. Print.
_____________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 17 Sep 1952. TS. Acervo Erico Verissimo.
Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro. Print.
______________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 14 Nov 1952. TS. Acervo Erico Verissimo.
Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro. Print.
______________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 22 Aug. 1962. TS. Acervo Literário Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
______________. Letter to Vianna Moog. 10. Sep. 1965. TS. Acervo Literário Erico
Verissimo. Instituto Moreira Salles, Rio de Janeiro.
______________. “Romance ingles.” Revista do Globo. 30 Oct. 1937. 30+. Print.
______________. Solo de clarineta. Vol. 1. 6th Ed. Porto Alegre: Editora Globo, 1975.
Print.
______________. A volta do Gato Preto. Porto Alegre: Editora Globo, 1953. Print.
Vianna, Hermano. The Mystery of Samba. Trans. John Charles Chasteen. Chapel Hill,
NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1999. Print.
Vieira, Nelson. “Um caçador de almas no País dos Yankees: Erico Verissimo e a
América caleidoscópica.” Caderno de pauta simples: Erico Verissimo e a crítica
270
literária. Ed. Maria da Glória Bordini. Porto Alegre: Instituto Estadual do Livro,
2005. 183-206. Print.
Wasserman, Renata. “Ventos alísios: Identidade e intercâmbios culturais em Erico
Verissimo.” Caderno de pauta simples: Erico Verissimo e a crítica literária. Ed.
Maria da Glória Bordini. Porto Alegre: Instituto Estadual do Livro, 2005. 207226. Print.
Zilberman, Regina et al. Vianna Moog. Porto Alegre: Instituto Estadual do Livro, 1989.
Print.
271