As the newest inductee to the Clarice Lispector cult, I am obsessed. Kept within this short novella is a garden maze of philosophy, strange facts, metanarratives, and pithy observations about death and life. Lispector has a beautiful and actually insane writing style—so many lines that pulled me out of my body, that spoke to me to directly and so forcefully. At the end, not as much character development as I would've liked; I never felt like I could visualize any of the characters, but I felt them, I understood them. And now I must go to Lispector's back catalogue and read everything because her command of language is throwing me through a tailspin!!