Tags
“Obscure Life”, “Vida Obscura”, Black Brazilian Poet João da Cruz e Sousa, Black lives matter, Cruz e Sousa, French Symbolist poetry, Racism, US Black History Month
Photo Credit: Black Lives Matter
In honor of Black History Month in the United States, my Poetry Corner February 2015 features the poem “Vida Obscura” (Obscure Life) by Brazil’s greatest black poet João da Cruz e Sousa (1861-1898).
Born in the Southern State of Santa Catarina, Cruz e Sousa was the son of freed slaves. (Not until 1888 was slavery totally abolished in Brazil.) When their former slave owners adopted and gave João da Cruz their surname Sousa, it became both a blessing and a curse for the child named after Saint John of the Cross.
After he revealed great intellectual aptitude, they enrolled ten-year-old João de Cruz in the Liceu Provincial where he spent the next five years studying French, English, Latin, Greek, mathematics, and the Natural Sciences.
Exposed to higher education and Brazilian white society, Cruz e Sousa assumed he could enjoy the same dignity and rights of whites. But late nineteenth century Brazilian society was not yet ready for the learned, talented, and multilingual black man who did not know his place. His bold and independent manner was viewed as arrogant. Judging from his poem, “Acrobata da Dor” (Acrobat of Pain), he hid his humiliation from those around him.
He guffaws, laughs, in a tormented laughter,
Like a clown, unhinged, nervous,
He laughs, in an absurd laughter, inflated
With an irony and a violent pain.
Fleeing racial prejudice in his home state, Cruz e Sousa moved to Rio de Janeiro where he worked as the archivist of Rio’s Central Railway Station. At twenty-six years old, already married and father of three, he struggled with financial problems and poor health.
In “O Assinalado” (The Branded), Cruz e Sousa laments his affliction and misfortune but observes that they provide food for the soul.
But this same shackle of affliction,
But this same extreme Misfortune
Makes your pleading soul grow
And blossom into stars of tenderness.
In adopting the new French Symbolist poetry of Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) and others, Cruz e Sousa countered the Parnassian poetic style, the dominant style among leading Brazilian poets at that time. Among Brazil’s literary circle, some branded him the “Black Swan;” others the “Black Dante.”
Lack of recognition by his peers drove Cruz e Sousa to strive harder for perfection in his art. In “Alma Solitária” (Solitary Soul), he dispels his melancholy which he likened to an adolescent archangel forgotten in the Valley of Hope.
O Soul sweet and sad and pulsating!
What kitharas weep solitaries
Across distant Regions, visionaries
Of your Dream secret and fascinating!
His battle with tuberculosis took his last profound breath. He was only thirty-six.
You can learn more about Cruz e Sousa’s contribution to Brazil’s poetic tradition and read his poem, “Vida Obscura” (Obscure Life), in its original Portuguese and English versions at my Poetry Corner February 2015.
Three Worlds One Vision 
Reblogged this on Guyanese Online.
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Thanks for the re-blog, Cyril. Your continued support is much appreciated.
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Rosaliene, it’s so sad when art and literary talent are scorned and rejected by society because of discrimination. As we all now know, in those days racial discrimination suppressed our liberty, our history and our art.
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It sure did, Deen. While much as changed since then, we still have a long way to go to end racial discrimination.
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His early death was like Mozart, who was almost 36, buried in a pauper’s grave.
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Isn’t it strange, Dr. Stein, that so many of our masters in the creative arts have died without recognition from their peers? Could it be that as a species we are unable to accept radical change that questions the status quo?
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The great operatic diva, Maria Callas, describes her first appearances on the operatic stage as torturous because her voice and her way of expressing herself was different – she was to have enormous success but she died at 53, a recluse. And then there’s Beethoven, whose works were laughed at by musicians and yet, by the time of his death, in his early 50s, all of Vienna attended the funeral. At least to some extent, it’s a crap shoot. Enjoyed the poem, Rose, though disheartening.
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Thanks, Angela. Sounds like creative genius is synonymous with torment. A very disheartening thought.
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Yes – but it doesn’t stop us creative types, does it (?) – geniuses or not — !
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So true, Angela. The torment, rejection, and obstacles can drive us to even greater heights of creativity, as was the case with Cruz e Sousa.
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Thanks for the post about Cruz e Sousa! I just would like to say I think when he says “Gargalha, ri, num riso de tormenta, como um palhaço, que desengonçado, nervoso, ri” he is asking someone (2a. pessoa do singular) to laugh like a clown. So it could be translated “Guffaws, laugh, in a tormented laughter, Like a clown, unhinged, nervous, laughs […]”
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Graci, thanks so much for dropping by and throwing light on Cruz e Sousa’s poem. It’s always a challenge to correctly translate the Brazilian poetry I feature on my blog and Poetry Corner. Sonnets are even more difficult because of their rigid form.
Before making your recommended changes, I would have to take another look at the poem in its entirety. Translating ‘ri’ as the imperative (second person singular) ‘laugh’ would change the meaning of the poem.
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