For Brazil, I read The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas by Machado de Assis, and holy shit, I think this is my new favorite book. Or at least top five. But probably my favorite. (Sorry, Jane, Pride and Prejudice will always hold a special place in my heart, but if you’ve read this book, you’ll understand.)

Poor Jane Austen, indignant that Pride and Prejudice

has been bumped from my number one slot.

Bras Cubas was published in 1881 and written in Portuguese. I read the English translation by Flora Thomson-DeVaux. I might have to read other translations to compare, but I thought this translation was superb. (Coincidentally, I’m currently reading the audiobook for Babel by R.F. Kuang, a fantasy novel about a translation student, and I’m currently fascinated by the subject of translation. But that’s another blog post.)

The book is told from the perspective of Bras Cubas, a disagreeable aristocrat who is recently deceased. He’s decadent, self-absorbed, shameless, flippant, and callous, yet he’s the sort of anti-hero I love and adore. (What does that say about me? Let’s not dive into that today…)

The writing style is fresh, witty, engaging, and utterly original. You could tell the author had a lot of fun writing this book and gave approximately zero fucks about writing like everyone else. Here are a few samples:

Yes, I was that handsome, graceful, wealthy lad; and one may easily imagine that more than one lady inclined a pensive brow in my direction, or raised a pair of covetous eyes to meet mine. But of all of them, the one who captivated me straightaway was a … a … I’m not sure I should say; this book is chaste, at least in its intentions; in its intentions it is supremely chaste.

The posthumous memoirs of bras cubas by machado de assis, pg. 42.

I went on my way, unfurling countless reflections, which I’m afraid I have forgotten entirely; they would have made for a good chapter, perhaps a cheerful one. I like cheerful chapters; I have a weakness for them.

id. at 148.

The years slipped away, but not her beauty, for she had never had any to begin with.

id. at 157.

Just typing out those quotes makes me want to curl up with this book and begin rereading it now, but I’m going to wait. After all, I do have a Read Around the Journey quest to continue… But I’ll definitely be rereading this book, partly to delight in its writing, but also because I suspect that every time I read it, I will experience The Posthumous Memoirs a little differently. This time, I felt an intense surge of joy and zest for life, and I kept thinking that if everyone read this book, they would appreciate the utter joy of reading.

Seriously. Why didn’t I read this book in high school?!?! It should be part of the Western canon. I slogged through so many books in my high school English classes that I have long forgotten, but The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas? My friends and I would have been obsessed.

I majored in history in college, but if the English class I took during my freshman year had included Bras Cubas, I probably would have majored in English and written a thesis on Brazilian literature.

Okay, yes, I am obsessed! I’m obsessed with this book, with the excitement of reading more Brazilian literature, and with this project. I do want to continue my Read Around the World quest and discover other literary treasures, but I also want to stop now and read everything Machado de Assis published.

Dearest Bookworms, please get your hands on a copy of The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas immediately, if not sooner, and curl up in your favorite chair with a cup of tea and clear your schedule of all distractions. You are in for such a treat!