The Triumph of Brazilian Modernism

UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA AT CHAPEL HILL
DEPARTMENT OF ROMANCE LANGUAGES
NORTH CAROLINA STUDIES

IN THE ROMANCE LANGUAGES AND LITERATURES
Founder: URBAN TIGNER HOLMES
Editor: FRANK A. DOMÍNGUEZ

Distributed by:
UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS

CHAPEL HILL
North Carolina 27515-2288
U.S.A.
NORTH CAROLINA STUDIES IN THE
ROMANCE LANGUAGES AND LITERATURES
Number 299
THE TRIUMPH OF BRAZILIAN

MODERNISM
THE METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION AND
COUNTER-NARRATIVES
N O RT H C A R O L I N A S E R I E S O N R O M A N C E
L A N G U A G E S A N D L I T E R AT U R E S
EDITORIAL COMMITTEE
Frank A. Domínguez, Editor-in-Chief
Fred Clark
Juan Carlos González Espitia
Oswaldo Estrada
Rosa Perelmuter
Monica Rector
EDITORIAL BOARDS
French Spanish & Spanish-American

Francis Assaf Debra Castillo
Janet Beizer Sara Castro-Klaren
Kevin Brownlee Cecelia J. Cavanaugh
Elisabeth Cardonne-Arlyck Stuart A. Day
Linda Clemente Malva E. Filer
William F. Edmiston Candelas Gala
Dominique Fisher Michael Gerli
Perry Gethner David T. Gies
Stirling Haig Roberto González Echevarría
Nancy Lane Alejandro Mejías-López
Peggy McCracken Sylvia Molloy
Warren Motte Óscar Montero
Marshall Olds Julio Ortega
François Rigolot Janet Pérez
Ruth Thomas José M. Regueiro
Ronald W. Tobin
Óscar Rivera-Rodas
Colette H. Winn
María Salgado
Donald Shaw
Luso-Brazilian Margarita Zamora
Severino Albuquerque
Paul Dixon Italian
Earl E. Fitz
José Ornelas Daniela Bini
Darlene Sadlier Antonio Illiano
Ronald W. Sousa Ennio Rao
Jon M. Tolman Rebecca West
THE TRIUMPH OF
BRAZILIAN MODERNISM
THE METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION AND
COUNTER-NARRATIVES
BY
SAULO GOUVEIA
CHAPEL HILL
NORTH CAROLINA STUDIES IN THE ROMANCE

LANGUAGES AND LITERATURES
U.N.C. DEPARTMENT OF ROMANCE LANGUAGES
2013
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fraser, Benjamin
Encounters with Bergson(ism) in Spain : reconciling philosophy, literature, film and
urban space / Benjamin Fraser.
p. cm. – (North Carolina studies in the Romance languages and literatures ; 295)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-8078-9299-2
1. Spain – Civilization – 20th century. 2. Spain – Intellectual life – 20th century.
3. Bergson, Henri, 1859-1941 – Influence. I. Title.
DP233.5.F753 2010
194-dc22 2010014283
Cover: Photograph by Clóvis Testa of the Bandeiras Monument at the entrance

to Ibirapuera Park. Sclupted by Victor Brecheret, finished 1953.
© 2013. Department of Romance Languages. The University of North Carolina

at Chapel Hill.
ISBN 978-1-4696-0999-7
IMPRESO EN ESPAÑA
PRINTED IN SPAIN
ARTES GRÁFICAS SOLER, S. L. - LA OLIVERETA, 28 - 46018 VALENCIA

www.graficas-soler.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
––––––
INTRODUCTION .................................................................................... 13
PART ONE: THE METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION
CHAPTER ONE: THE BUILDING PROCESS: LEGITIMATION AND SELF-

LEGITIMATION ............................................................................... 33
The “Heroic” 1920s and the “Mature” 1930s ............................. 38
Breaking Away from Aesthetic Criticism ..................................... 48
Modernist Intellectuals and the Nation-Building Project of the
Vargas Era ..................................................................................... 55
Educational Reforms: The Project for a National University
System ........................................................................................... 65
Early Efforts to Canonize Modernist Literature ......................... 68
CHAPTER TWO: LITERARY HISTORIOGRAPHY AND THE CANONIZATION

OF MODERNISM IN BRAZIL ............................................................. 80
Literary Historiography’s Method and Functions ....................... 83
Brazilian Literary Historians of the 1950s ................................... 88
The Standardized Metanarrative of Emancipation: Modernism
as Revolution ................................................................................ 96
Modernism and Resistance: A “Tradition of Rupture” ............... 103
Aesthetic Experimentation and the Modernist Discourse of Origins 112
PART TWO: COUNTER-NARRATIVES
CHAPTER THREE: PAULO PRADO AND THE MODERNISTS: PRIVATE

PATRONAGE, IDEOLOGY AND CULTURAL POLITICS ....................... 121
The Social and the Economic Basis of the Modernist Movement
in São Paulo .................................................................................... 124
7
8 TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Political and the Economic Elites in the 1920s in São Paulo 127
The Multiple Faces of Paulo Prado .............................................. 134
Paulo Prado’s Modes of Cultural Patronage ................................. 140
Paulística: Tales of Bandeirante Supremacy ................................... 151
Retrato do Brasil: A Nation Doomed by Racial Miscegenation .... 161
CHAPTER FOUR: MÁRIO DE ANDRADE AND THE QUEST FOR THE

PURE NATIONAL ............................................................................ 173
Mário Andrade’s Life and Career .................................................. 176
A Platform for a Project of National Identity: Signs of
“Modernophobia” .......................................................................... 181
Paulicéia desvairada: Harlequin Ousts the Unwanted................... 186
“Noturno de Belo Horizonte:” Walking the Bandeirante Trail .......... 204
CHAPTER FIVE: ATAVISTIC MODERNITY IN OSWALD DE

ANDRADE’S PAU-BRASIL: ............................................................... 220
Epic Primitivism in Search of the Roots of Modernity ................. 223
The Program of the “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil”................. 228
The Divided Reception of the Pau-Brasil Project ....................... 230
Presence and Immanence in Pau-Brasil ....................................... 240
Ancestry Revisited: Other Instances of Bandeirismo ................... 254
CONCLUSION ....................................................................................... 263
WORKS CITED ...................................................................................... 271

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
like to thank all those who helped me complete this

I WOULD
book. Guilherme Ribeiro was a patient, encouraging, and insight-
ful interlocutor. Our conversations in coffee shops and in the corri-
dors of the department inspired me throughout the revision process
of this manuscript. I would also like to thank Marília Ribeiro for her
support and encouragement. Also, my wife Suzanne helped me
with the minute details of this text, including notes and works cit-
ed. Her hard work, support, and attention to detail were instru-
mental in getting this manuscript in shape. I would also like to ex-
press my gratitude to all the readers at the University of Illinois at
Urbana-Champaign while this project was still a PhD dissertation.
The dissertation committee was chaired by Professor Ronald Sousa,
and composed of professors Dara Goldman, Joseph Love, and
Joyce Tolliver. Finally, I would like to thank the editors, blind re-
viewers, and other readers whose insight was invaluable.
I cannot express my gratitude to Doug Noverr for his mentor-
ship during the time he was chair of my department at Michigan
State University. After he left the department, Professor Noverr
went above and beyond his duties and continued to provide help
by reading several versions of the manuscript, providing insight, en-
couragement, and superb editing work as well.
9
PERMISSIONS
Portions of chapters in this book had been previously published in

journals.
Chapter 2 includes a section that had been published in modified

form as “Theory and Practice of Literary Historiography in Brazil,
1950s: The Corporate Logic of a Modernist Institution.” Ellipsis 9
(2009).
Chapters 3 and 4 contain sections that had been published as “Pa-

tronage in Early Brazilian Modernism: Xenophobia and Internal
Colonization Coded in Mário de Andrade’s ‘Noturno de Belo Hori-
zonte.’” Luso-Brazilian Review. 46.2 (2009).
In memory of my father, Saint-Clair Gouveia and my mother,
Hilda Rezende Gouveia. This book is also dedicated to my
wife Suzanne Bernsten and my sons Nicolas Bernsten Gou-
veia and Louis Bernsten Gouveia.
INTRODUCTION
and modernity are related in complex and often

M ODERNISM
conflicting ways. The cultural projects of Modernism depend
on the modernization of cultural practices, but these projects must
also resist aspects of modernity that may undermine their utopian
ideals. This complicated relationship between Modernism and
modernity has generated an equally complex academic debate.
With so many definitions of modernity and so many distinct mani-
festations of Modernism, it is difficult to define exactly what consti-
tutes modernity in the realm of culture.
One useful “strategy to enter modernity,” or at least to enter the
debate on modernity, comes from Nestor García Canclini. Based on
recent debates on the issue, the author provides an introductory list
of items that emphasizes four interrelated developments associated
with cultural modernity: “an emancipating project, an expansive
project, a renovating project, and a democratizing project” (12). All
the components that constitute the cultural project of modernity
are also part of the ideals put forth by the various factions of the
modernist movement in Brazil. Many manifestos of the early years
of the modernist movement in Brazil favored all of these notions.1
1
All of the manifestos of Brazilian Modernism prefigure some form of redemp-
tion through artistic renovation. The new artistic expression always works toward
the end-goal of reconnecting art with other aspects of life, which represents a gen-
eral and abstract objective. In most of these manifestos there is also the specific goal
of national emancipation. This is not a claim to emancipate Brazilian society as a
whole, but to find an authentic form of artistic expression that could capture this
national spirit. It would be impossible to cite the moments when such objectives are
explicitly mentioned in each of these manifestos. In Gilberto Mendonça Teles’ com-
13
14 THE TRIUMPH OF BRAZILIAN MODERNISM
Their utopian/nationalist propositions in this discourse are aimed

at emancipating Brazil from cultural dependence, renovating the
culture, and expanding the parameters of what literature and art
meant to society. There was also at least the desire to democratize
access to culture, which was expressed–in aesthetic terms–through
the incorporation of the vernacular language along with the avoid-
ance and condemnation of some old-fashioned and verbose
rhetoric of past literary traditions. These ideas are fundamental to
the aesthetic and ideological components of the modernist cultural
projects.
However, the processes to which García Canclini refers concern
the non-aesthetic developments in the cultural domain in the con-
text of modernity. What the author means by “emancipating pro-
ject” has to do with the secularization and autonomization of cul-
tural and social spheres. This process fosters the independence of
the arts from religious tutelage, and it is accompanied by increasing
rationalization and individualism. The “expansive project” is relat-
ed to the market. As the economic market expands, profits in-
crease, and this creates incentives for scientific discoveries, as well
as for industrial and technological development. The “renovating
project” refers to the constant pursuit of improvement, which is
made possible because of the relative freedom from sacred pre-
scription achieved with autonomy. As part of this renovating aspect
of modernity, the author also mentions the need for constant refor-
mulation of signs of distinction in order to resist the effects of mass
consumption. With regard to the “democratizing project,” the au-
thor refers to the trust in the role of education in the diffusion of
specialized knowledge and art as a means of achieving social
progress (12-13). As these processes develop, García Canclini ex-
plains, they also conflict. It is clear from this brief summary that the
“emancipating” and “renovating” projects of modernization are at
odds with economic development, the expansion of the market,
and the rationalization of social practices. The “emancipating pro-
pilation of these manifestos, one can easily find passages in which these objectives
are laid out. See, for instance, Graça Aranha’s “A emoção estética na arte moderna”
173; Menotti Del Picchia’s “Arte moderna” 178; “Klaxon” 182; Oswald de An-
drade’s “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil” 207; and “Manifesto antropófago” 227;
“Manifesto regionalista de 1926” 216; “Festa” 221; and “Nhengacú verde amarelo”
238.
INTRODUCTION 15
ject,” which is the most utopian element of cultural modernization,

depends on expansion of the market and the autonomy of the cul-
tural spheres, but it also needs to resist the laws of the market and
the individualism generated by rationalization. In order to avoid
submission to economic, political, and technological developments,
emancipating cultural projects must create spaces that foster inno-
vation, spaces that allow the symbolic production to flourish inde-
pendently (13).
García Canclini formulates this useful scheme based on theoret-
ical concepts developed by authors such as Jürgen Habermas and
Pierre Bourdieu. These authors studied the secularization of the
artistic fields in Germany (Habermas) and France (Bourdieu).2
Habermas developed his theory based on the work of sociologist
Max Weber, who first conceptualized the process of secularization.
To Weber, secularization is constitutive of modern culture. This
process promotes the formation of autonomous social spheres that
no longer depend on consecration by religion or by metaphysics.
These spheres are science, morality, and art. Each of these spheres
gradually becomes institutionalized. These institutionalized spheres
generate specialists who become authorities in their area. This
process of rationalization promotes further separation between
these spheres.3 According to Habermas, rationalization produces
distortions that undermine the utopian aspect of the project of cul-
tural modernity.
Habermas not only studied the process of secularization; the au-
thor is a firm believer in the emancipating potential of modernity in
the realm of culture. In The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity
(1985, translated into English in 1987), Habermas disagrees with
the critique of modernity (or the critique of enlightened reason) in
the writings of Heidegger, Bataille, Derrida, Foucault, Adorno, and
Horkheimer. Habermas recognizes the pertinence of the critique of
2
While Habermas uses Weber’s concepts of social spheres, Bourdieu elaborates
a theory of the cultural fields. This theory can be seen, for instance, in the essays
compiled in the volume The Field of Cultural Production. His theory conceives of
these fields as interdependent, but each autonomous field is guided by its own laws.
I will apply some of Bourdieu’s concepts in my analysis of the canonization of Mod-
ernism in Brazil in chapters one and two.
3
Weber develops this theory in his classic The Protestant Ethic and the Logic of
Capitalism. My summary was based on Habermas’ description in “Modernity: An
Unfinished Project” 45.
modernity put forth by these authors, but argues that they combat
the totalizing “subject-centered” narrative of modernity by building
another totalizing discourse. Critics of modernity build a discourse
that, according to Habermas, relies on the same subject-centered
reason that they aim to critique: “Heidegger and Foucault want to
initiate a special discourse that claims to operate outside the horizon
of reason without being utterly irrational” (308) (Emphasis in the
original). In “Modernity: An Unfinished Project,”4 Habermas rec-
ognizes the problem of “false sublation” in modernity, but he insists
that we should learn from the “aberrations which have accompa-
nied the project of modernity” (51). In his view, there are alterna-
tives to this problem and the project of modernity should not be
abandoned.5 The author claims that the critique of modernity pro-
motes a recoil into three kinds of conservative arguments: “Old
conservatives” (Strauss, Jonas, Spaemann) preach a nostalgic return
to premodern practices, while “young conservatives,” (Bataille,
Foucault, Derrida), who are antimodernists, offer no alternatives to
the problem. “New conservatives” (Wittgenstein, Schmitt, Benn)
enthusiastically embrace the technocratic advances of postmoderni-
ty and the “definitive segregation of science, morality, and arts into
autonomous spheres” (53-54).
The Habermasian critique of the postmodern and post-struc-
turalist attack on the enlightenment project of modernity has re-
ceived its fair share of criticism as well.6 This lively debate between
those who defend the emancipatory potential of modernity and
those who see modernity as a failed utopia illustrates that this philo-
sophical impasse is still far from reaching a resolution. Even those
who, like Habermas, defend the project of modernity recognize
that the utopian discourse of modernity generated its own aporias.
Whether the cultural project of modernity is considered “failed” or
“unfinished,” none of these authors claim that the emancipatory
4
This essay was the speech Habermas gave upon receiving the Adorno Prize in
1980 in Frankfurt. The essay appears in the volume Habermas and the Unfinished
Project of Modernity, edited by Maurizio Passerin d’Entrèves and Seyla Benhabib
38-55.
5
Habermas proposes a paradigm shift from a subject-centered to a communica-
tive conception of reason and rationality.
6
In the volume Habermas and the Unfinished Project of Modernity several schol-
ars respond to Habermas’ critique by pointing out distortions in Habermas’ judg-
ments of the works and authors critiqued in The Philosophical Discourse of Moder-
nity.
INTRODUCTION 17
end-goal of modernity has ever been accomplished. What authors

like Habermas mean by emancipation is the total “sublation” of art
in society: the overcoming of the separation between art and, in
Habermas’s terminology, the “Lifeworld,” or the reintegration of
art into everyday life. This would be the consolidation of moderni-
ty’s utopian project.
This book critiques certain representations (or appropriations)
of Modernism and of certain modernist texts. I will not venture in
the realm of philosophical discourse on modernity. I have no inten-
tion of defending the emancipatory potential of the modernist cul-
tural projects, but I am against the idea of discarding any aspect of
a cultural legacy of any era. If the modernist cultural projects have
failed at their highest, utopian level, it is also undeniable that they
have triumphed at many other levels. Antonio Candido analyzes
various aspects of the process of cultural “democratization,” or
what he calls “routinization,” that happened after the 1930s in
Brazil due to the actions of modernist intellectuals. Candido admits
that in spite of all advances and hopes for social change of that era,
the limits of this process are obvious because:
Não se pode falar em socialização ou coletivização da cultura

artística e intellectual, porque no Brasil as suas manifestações em
nível erudito são tão restritas quantitativamente, que vão pouco
além da pequena minoria que as pode fruir (“A revolução de 30
e a cultura” 18).
One cannot talk about socialization or collectivization of artistic

and intellectual culture, because in Brazil their manifestations at
the erudite level are so restricted quantitatively, that they do not
go beyond the small minority that can enjoy it.
It is obvious, as Candido points out, that the modernist utopia

did not materialize, since Brazil still faces some of the same social,
cultural, and economic issues addressed by the modernists. Howev-
er, many aspects of the modernist legacy are still present in the cul-
ture. Modernism has influenced many other cultural projects in
Brazil throughout the twentieth century; therefore, it is still possible
to say that the project of modernity is unfinished in the sense that it
could still inspire future cultural and social transformations.
The triumph of Brazilian Modernism to which I allude in the ti-
tle of this book is a structuring component of the discourse that I
will attempt to define and critique in the first part of this study. The
discourse of criticism and historiography that proclaims the tri-
umph of Modernism was born at a time when faith in modernity
and the redemptive potential of Modernism was still unshaken.
Most of the historiography I am analyzing in the first part of this
study appeared in the 1940s and 50s. These texts were mostly in-
formed by formalistic approaches to literature, and they were na-
tionalistic discourses. The origins of this discourse precede the cri-
tiques of modernity put forth by postmodern and post-structuralist
scholarship, and in many ways it managed to survive the disillusion-
ment and distrust inherent in that critique. The conventional dis-
course on Modernism (the standard definition of the phenomenon)
relies heavily on the notion of emancipation, not of Brazilian society
as a whole but of the literary and artistic spheres.
The discourse of and on Modernism announces the emancipa-
tion of the Brazilian intellectual: the consolidation of a “stable na-
tional creative consciousness,” as Mário de Andrade proclaimed in
1942 (O movimento modernista 45). In some cases, in the most en-
thusiastic versions of this narrative, such emancipation is seen as an
accomplished process and Modernism defined as a complete revo-
lution.7 This discourse defines Modernism as a rupture with the
detrimental aspects of “the past” and, through this rupture, a new
era is born. The notion of rupture becomes a ritual that is reinstat-
ed in this discourse every time it attempts to define any aspect of
the modernist legacy. This ritual is similar to what Octavio Paz de-
fined as “La tradición de la ruptura” [The tradition of rupture]. If
modernity is itself a tradition, as Paz argues in relation to the artis-
tic and literary expression of modern times (17), I would say that
the conventional discourse on Modernism in Brazil also establishes
a tradition of its own. In The Tradition of the New, Harold Rosen-
berg had already, in 1959, come to the same realization: “The fa-
mous ‘modern break with tradition’ has lasted long enough to have
produced its own tradition” (9). This tradition is based on the affir-
mation and reiteration of the argument of rupture, which is always
constitutive of the path to the emancipation of the national artistic
and intellectual expression.
7
For instance, Coutinho, Martins, Pereira, and Sodré, to name just a few, are
among the critics and historians who define Modernism as a revolution. I will ana-
lyze their rhetoric in chapters one and two.
INTRODUCTION 19
When studying the process of cultural modernization in Brazil

and its relationship to the modernist movement, one must take into
account that Modernism was stimulated by forces that in many
ways interfere with the process of secularization and autonomiza-
tion to which Weber, Habermas, and Bourdieu refer. García Cancli-
ni argues that in the most developed Latin American countries “tra-
ditions have not yet disappeared and modernity has not completely
arrived” (1). In the 1920s in Brazil, modernity had barely started to
affect cultural practices when the modernist movement erupted and
demanded aesthetic renovation. If we define the early manifesta-
tions of Modernism as expressions of the “renovating project” of
modernity, we also need to acknowledge that this process starts be-
fore the modernization of cultural practices is consolidated. This
project is carried out through practices of cultural politics that had
many premodern features, such as private patronage of the arts
(59). In the 1920s the modernist literature circulated in an enclosed
intellectual circle.8 The modernists’ texts were disseminated mostly
through short-lived periodicals, magazines, and self-published
books, which did not compete or cause much of an impact9 in the
commercial segment of the cultural market (Hallewell 182-84). The
intended audience was the intellectual public, and the logistical as-
pects of the movement were paid for by private patronage and in
many cases by the authors’ own personal funds.
On the other hand, if we were to define a timeline for the “de-
mocratizing project” of Modernism, it is clear that this develop-
ment occurs in the 1930s and 40s, when the modernist production
starts to be disseminated to a broader audience through the educa-
tional system.10 Other developments such as the expansion of the
8
Many scholars have commented on the restricted and artisanal aspect of the
production and circulation of cultural goods during the early years of the modernist
movement. See Candido, “A revolução de 30 e a cultura;” Miceli, Intelectuais; Sev-
cenko, Orfeu; Hallewell, Sodré, História da imprensa; and Santiago, “História de
um livro.”
9
The impact was strong in the realm of ideas and aesthetic renovation, but the
impact on the market only started after the 1930s, when the modernist production
starts to compete directly in the commercial market.
10
Besides entering the educational system, the modernist production, especially
neo-realist novels, also started to circulate in the commercial market, which grew
considerably in the 1930s due to an increase in the public reading and the role of
new publishing houses such as José Olympio, Ariel, and a few others that published
books by the modernist intellectuals. See Miceli, Intelectuais; Candido, “A re-
volução de 30.”
market and the diversification and specialization of the intellectual

personnel also take place during this time. However, in this phase
of the modernizing project, the state assumes the role of cultural
promoter through programs and funding. Therefore, both forms of
support for the cultural project of modernity are marked by cultur-
al politics (private and state patronage).
These practices created incentives and established protected
spaces in which the “renovating project” and the “democratizing
project” of Modernism could develop. In both cases, modernist in-
tellectuals were the agents of their own legitimization as they often
produced literature and also interpreted each other’s works. Many
of them were writers and self-taught literary critics who not only
defined their own work but also the work of other writers. While in
the 1920s they published reviews of each other’s texts in the avant-
garde magazines or in regular newspapers, in the 1930s and 40s
they started to produce the first canonical studies of Modernism.
My study does not question the legitimacy of this discourse or the
legitimacy of Modernism. What I attempt to do in the first part of
this book is to problematize aspects of the process by which legiti-
macy is attained and how an apparent “consensus” is reached.11 My
analysis focuses on issues of self-legitimation of the discourse on
Modernism. I argue that the predominant discourse on Modernism,
the standard definition, the categories, the temporal demarcations,
and some of the most relevant arguments that make up the institu-
tionalized totalizing narrative of Modernism were first put forth by
modernist intellectuals. Modernists produce a meta-discourse that
defines their own work and places them in a position of authority to
arbitrate the terms of their canonization. The first efforts to canon-
ize Modernism occur in the context of state-led cultural policies
during Getúlio Vargas’ dictatorship (1937-45). Subsequent efforts
to historicize Modernism incorporate many of the arguments and
structures proposed by modernist intellectuals in their role as critics
and historians. The body of literary histories that appear in the
1950s is mostly authored by professional or semi-professional crit-
11
The “consensus” that I refer here relates to the general historical definition of
Modernism. With regard to the importance of individual authors and the relevance
of specific works, such consensus is never reached. This general agreement is also
relative in this discourse, as it can vary in tone and diverge with regard to specific
topics. But the notion of rupture and emancipation tends to be implicitly or explic-
itly reproduced.
INTRODUCTION 21
ics who were linked to the public universities. These historians pro-
duce a discourse that standardizes the narrative on Modernism.
In the second part of this study I provide readings of early mod-
ernist texts that are intended as counter-narratives. My readings do
not form a totalizing account of Modernism, but they attempt to
cause a disturbance in the chain of signification that structures the
conventions prescribed by the predominant discourse on Mod-
ernism. I explore some of the aspects that have been elided in the
institutionalized discourse. These chapters focus on the contradic-
tory aspects of the modernists’ critique of Modernity and on the
complexity of the so-called modernist rupture(s), which involve
much more than a simple negation of past traditions and cultural
forms. My analysis focuses on individual cases and on specific texts,
since this book is not intended as an all-inclusive history of Mod-
ernism in Brazil, but an analysis of the prevailing frameworks that
informed the study of Modernism followed by the case studies on
three authors from São Paulo. I deliberately single out moments in
which the modernist critique of modernity contradicts itself, some-
times reverting back to nostalgia. In the most radical of these rup-
tures the aggressiveness of some propositions works against emanci-
pating and democratizing ideals. In general lines, the two major
issues analyzed in each part of this study are: first, the self-legitimiz-
ing aspect of the discourse on Modernism; and second, the conflic-
tive relationship with modernity in the work of three modernist in-
tellectuals. In what follows I will describe each chapter.
In chapter one I argue that the standard definition of Mod-
ernism in Brazil relies on the notion of the modernist rupture,
which represents a definitive step toward the emancipation of na-
tional intelligentsia. Numerous versions of this argument compose
the institutionalized view of Modernism in Brazil. It is an appropri-
ation of the modernist self-defining argument, which is reiterated
and ritualized in the discourse of criticism and historiography.
Based on Jean François Lyotard’s concept of metanarrative, I argue
that the institutionalized discourse of and on Modernism fulfills
multiple tasks. The “emancipating project” of national culture, pre-
sented as a proposition by the modernists, is turned into a ritual
that legitimizes Modernism, the discourse on Modernism, and the
state cultural and educational apparatus. In order to explain the
process that is related to the “democratizing project of Mod-
ernism,” I provide an overview of the scholarship that investigates
the relationship between intellectuals and the state during the

1930s and 40s.12 Important developments that foster the establish-
ment of the metanarrative of emancipation are: the expansion of
the state cultural infrastructure; creation and restructuring of major
universities; implementation of educational reforms intended to
unify the university system; and specialization and diversification of
intellectual work. I analyze some of the implications of the presence
of modernist intellectuals in the state cultural and educational ap-
paratuses throughout the 1930s and 40s. As modernist intellectuals
assumed posts in the state bureaucracy, they gradually became in-
volved with state agencies of cultural promotion, and some as-
sumed significant posts in the educational system. The canonization
of Modernism occurs in this context of state-led cultural policies. I
demonstrate that in the early 1940s the first attempts to provide a
broad historical framework for the study of Modernism were done
by modernist intellectuals or by those who had been connected to
the modernist movement since the early years. Alceu Amoroso Li-
ma, Mário de Andrade, Sérgio Milliet, and Manuel Bandeira pro-
duced some of the first overviews of Modernism in literature. These
were some of the earliest efforts to define, organize, catalog, classify
and divulge the literature of Modernism in the educational system.
As a whole, these first appraisals do not form a coherent narrative
or a reach “consensus” with regard to the historical signification of
Modernism. However, it is from these first efforts to canonize, his-
toricize, and structure knowledge on Modernism that the subse-
quent historiography is built.
In chapter two I analyze the bulk of literary historiography pro-
duced in the 1950s. I examine issues related to canon formation,
primarily in the area of literary historiography that was established
in Brazil during the 1950s. I argue that literary historiography at
that moment worked as one of the main apparatuses of the legit-
imization of Modernism in Brazil. This marks the moment in which
the institutionalized definition of Modernism assumed a more de-
finitive form and entered the educational system. The specific issues
I address are the theoretical and methodological approaches that
12
The process of institutionalization of Modernism has been studied extensive-
ly. Among the studies I refer to are Miceli, Intelectuais; Schwartzman, Bomeny and
Costa; Pécaut; Johnson, “The Institutionalization” and “The Dynamics;” Williams,
Culture Wars and “Capanema;” and Candido “A revolução de 30.”
INTRODUCTION 23
inform literary historiography in Brazil, the main function of the

volumes of literary history, and the main authors and ideologues in
this area.
The first section of the chapter defines the academic and social
functions of literary historiography. The second section contains an
inventory of the publications of the 1950s with brief analyses of
their formats and contents as well as biographical information
about the authors of these publications. The third section analyzes
the discourse and the ideology of literary historiography with re-
gard to the modernist movement. As the notion of the modernist
rupture(s) with this fin de siècle mentality becomes ritualized in the
discourse of criticism and historiography, new developments in crit-
ical theory offer a renewed apparatus for a re-evaluation of the
modernist text, which I examine in the fourth section of this chap-
ter. I analyze two of the major arguments presented in some of the
recent criticism that tries to break away from formalism. There is a
tendency to ascribe an oppositional meaning to forms and tech-
niques, which, in their turn, are also associated with a radical cri-
tique of traditions and progressive politics. These are usually argu-
ments coming from leftist critics who rescue the work of authors
such as Oswald de Andrade. Discursive strategies such as parody
and irony as well as techniques such as collage and ellipsis assume a
fixed semantic function usually related to a critique of history and
traditions. I refute the argument that these forms and techniques
could have any intrinsic oppositional mechanism or could be inter-
preted as univocally representing dissenting or subversive political
views. The modernist nationalist discourse utilizes a self-reflexive
language, with extensive use of fragmentation, irony, and parody.
However, there is still a drive to affirm certain traditions and to
provide totalizing representations of national identities.
Brazilian modernists activate a vast array of themes related to
the discourse of origins in their nationalistic texts even in texts that
are not influenced by the aesthetics of primitivism. I focus on the
group of modernist intellectuals of São Paulo. I identify a common
feature in the work of Paulo Prado, Mário de Andrade, and Oswald
de Andrade, which is related to ancestral connections to the heroic
paulista forefathers, the Bandeirantes.13 This aspect of cultural her-
13
The term Bandeirante is so widespread that in modern usage it became a syn-
onym for the paulistas. The myth of bandeirismo constitutes the core of São Paulo’s
itage is the main theme analyzed in the second part of the book, al-
though I also analyze other aspects related to the activation of the
discourse of tradition in the texts I selected from these three au-
thors.
Most of the São Paulo modernists incorporate the motif of the
early colonial settlers as a metaphor both for the pioneering histori-
cal role of São Paulo in the colonization of the Brazilian countryside
and as an affirmation of their modern identity. I frame my critique
of these three São Paulo modernists within a broad historical con-
text, with emphasis on the rapid growth of the population, the mas-
sive presence of immigrants, the economic crisis of the coffee busi-
ness, the political crisis, and the tensions between the aristocracy
and the immigrant bourgeoisie.
The ways these intellectuals respond to this state of affairs are
drastically different. Their cultural projects are distinct. Each of
these intellectuals’ discourse presents its own peculiarities and
prefigures distinct notions of national identity. I consider the re-
current theme of the Bandeirante as an expression of the paulistas’
atavism. This atavistic attitude is related to the notion of genealo-
gy, but it represents a distinct form of connection with ancestry, as
it is not based on the notion of family ties or blood relations. This
type of representation of time as cyclical and recurrent is reminis-
cent of a mentality that was still influenced by racial theories of
the late nineteenth century. According to Dana Seitler, the notion
of atavism always includes reproduction, recurrence, and inter-
mission. Atavism as a cultural phenomenon has a historical speci-
ficity, as it is a:
identity. The numerous narratives of the colonial saga of the Bandeirantes tend to
portray these settlers as brave and independent individuals. This theme is an obses-
sion for most of the São Paulo intellectuals, and the modernists are no exception to
this rule. There are profuse references to the bandeirantes in the poetry of Mário de
Andrade, Oswald de Andrade, and others. Cassiano Ricardo also wrote extensively
on the Bandeirantes. Conventionally, the Bandeirantes are associated with the expe-
ditions [bandeiras] that found gold and precious stones in Minas Gerais and a few
other states. But there is also a less flattering narrative that portrays them as slave-
hunting men who captured native Brazilians [indians]. This kind of activity is also
associated with the destruction of several Jesuit Missions in the Brazilian country-
side. Of the many São Paulo intellectuals of the modern era who wrote about the
historical role of the Bandeirante are: Sérgio Buarque de Hollanda, Cassiano Ricar-
do, Afonso d’E. Taunay, Paulo Prado, José de Alcântara Machado, and others. For
a collection of essays and fragments written by many of these scholars, see Richard
Morse, ed. The Bandeirantes: The Historical Role of the Brazilian Pathfinders.
INTRODUCTION 25
recurrence of the past in the present, a recurrence that is specifi-

cally one of ancestral prehistory... Atavism brings the ancestral past
into conjunction with the modern present, and given the post-Dar-
winian moment in which the widespread deployment of the con-
cept occurs, this ancestral past was always understood as part and
parcel of the course of evolution (Atavistic Tendencies 2).
The atavism of the São Paulo modernists is also partly grounded on

evolutionist conceptions of social and cultural development. How-
ever the main focus of these three authors is on the notion of a re-
gional cultural distinction and superiority. The myth of bandeirismo
is articulated in the poetic discourse of both Mário and Oswald de
Andrade with varying degrees of ironic distancing. In their texts the
Bandeirante appears as an emblem for certain leadership traits of
the paulistas, usually the “native” ones, but sometimes the immi-
grant is also represented as the modern incarnation of the Ban-
deirante spirit. These writers do not resort to evolutionist theories
in order to explain the superiority of their ancestry. However, in the
historical narratives of Paulo Prado, there is hardly any dissocia-
tion. Prado revives the Bandeirante myth by making claims of his-
torical and scientific accuracy.
Chapter three examines the involvement of Paulo Prado with
the modernist movement in São Paulo. I start with an analysis of
the rapid social and economic transformations of the 1920s. With
the decline of the coffee trade the aristocracy started to lose eco-
nomic power and political influence. This moment of crisis of hege-
mony led the aristocracy toward the movement of cultural and aes-
thetic renovation proposed by the modernists. Paulo Prado’s
involvement with the modernist movement occurs in this context of
crisis. I provide a broad depiction and analysis of the various roles
Prado played as an intellectual and leader of the aristocracy, as well
as the diverse forms of patronage he offered for the arts and litera-
ture in the 1920s. In each of these roles Prado’s leadership was
marked by controversy, conflict, and accusations of double-dealing.
In spite of these conflicts the importance and centrality of Paulo
Prado for the development and support of the modernist move-
ment cannot be overstated. In contrast to his attitude of openness
to the most innovative forms of expression and his cosmopoli-
tanism, Prado’s work as a historian and interpreter of the nation’s
most pressing problems articulates a nostalgic, defensive, and isola-
tionist stance. I offer an analysis of Prado’s ideas in the essays pub-

lished in Paulística (1925) and in Prado’s most important book, Re-
trato do Brasil (1928). Prado’s desire to construct a heroic historical
narrative for the state of São Paulo, based on the saga of the Ban-
deirante conquistadors, constitutes an atavism based on theories of
racial and geographical determinism.
In chapter four I propose an analysis of Mário de Andrade’s po-
etry of the early and mid-1920s. I examine the author’s career and
his main ideas with regard to issues of national identity, the role of
the intellectual in the process of nationalizing artistic expression,
and his definition of what constitutes national art. I then analyze
two distinct moments of his early creative output, starting with
Paulicéia desvairada (1922). In this early collection of poems the city
of São Paulo takes center stage. Aesthetically, the book represents
the most radical innovation of that particular moment in the mod-
ernist movement. Andrade incorporates the formal experiments of
the avant-garde, composing a fragmented, polyphonic, and com-
plex depiction of the city. The poems articulate a plurality of posi-
tions and attitudes, which are represented by the poetic voice(s), or
the multi-faceted subjectivity of the Harlequin.
I focus mostly on the moments in which the poetic voices dis-
play ambiguous, conflicted, and sometimes negative attitudes to-
ward features of modernity that affect the city’s cultural landscape.
I explore the ambiguity of this poetic discourse toward urban mul-
ticulturalism, especially in regard to religion, immigration, and the
bourgeoisie. I place special emphasis on the dichotomy of
native/foreign elements articulated in these poems. There are multi-
ple configurations of this opposition, which is always marked by
irony. In many of these ironic remarks the immigrant component
appears as the target of criticism, representing the negative, disrup-
tive, illegitimate Other of modernity. Some of these statements fore-
tell of the author’s subsequent radicalization and a turn to primi-
tivism that would make a lasting imprint on his definition of
national identity.
The second moment in the author’s work that I analyze is repre-
sented by his 1924 poem “Noturno de Belo Horizonte.” The poem,
which was later included in the book O clã do jaboti (1927), repre-
sents one of the earliest manifestations of primitivism in the mod-
ernist movement and an important turning point in the work of
Mário de Andrade. The presence of Blaise Cendrars in Brazil cer-
INTRODUCTION 27
tainly played a role in this new attitude of reverence for historical

patrimony and folklore among Brazilian authors and artists of that
time.14 The modernists produced artifacts that rescued the colonial
past through a nostalgic, colorful, and idyllic representation of colo-
nial times. In my reading, Mário de Andrade’s poem is an example
of a text in which the notion of genealogy, so essential to the aris-
tocracy’s identity, receives an avant-garde treatment. In spite of the
irony and the fragmented language deployed in the construction of
the poem, the poetic discourse conceives of national history in a
monumental fashion, establishing a direct connection between the
glorious past of the gold rush in Minas Gerais and the São Paulo
Bandeirantes.
Chapter five analyzes Oswald de Andrade’s “Manifesto da poe-
sia pau-brasil” (1924), and his book of poetry, Pau-Brasil (1925).
From the aesthetic standpoint this collection of poems represented
a radical innovation. This book represented Oswald’s15 adherence
to primitivism, and it was the author’s first book of poems. Pau-
Brasil and the manifesto are considered the author’s first nationalis-
tic statement. The manifesto establishes the aesthetic and ideologi-
cal platform upon which the poems of Pau-Brasil were built. The
concise and often humorous poetic language, coupled with the
naïve imagery of this collection of poems, conveys a general sense of
playfulness. In the author’s own description, as transcribed by
Maria Boaventura, Pau-Brasil introduces an aesthetics that privi-
leges: “... sobretudo, clareza, nitidez, simplicidade e estilo. A ordem
direta dos nossos rios” (Qtd. in Boaventura, O salão e a selva 115)
[... above all, clarity, transparency, simplicity and style. The direct
order of our rivers].
Pau-Brasil received mixed reactions among fellow modernists.
Some admired the technique and the themes, but criticized the as-
pect of exotic nationalism.16 Among those who received Pau-Brasil
14
Cendrars first came to Brazil in 1923 and stayed until 1924. The author re-
turned several times. See Eulálio 30.
15
I will, from now on, follow the Brazilian style in reference to Mário and Os-
wald de Andrade, who are referred to by their first names (Mário and Oswald) in
order to avoid confusion.
16
These negative reactions came from Tristão de Athayde, Mário de Andrade,
Carlos Drummond de Andrade, and Manuel Bandeira. I will comment on this nega-
tive reception in chapter five.
with enthusiasm, Paulo Prado, who wrote the preface, reads these
poems as an expression of “Jacobin nationalism.”17 The book ful-
fills, in Prado’s reading, a protective nationalistic mission. While
Prado interprets Pau-Brasil as an unequivocal expression of a “pro-
tective” nationalism, critics who promoted a revival of Oswald de
Andrade’s works in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s, especially the con-
cretist poets, tend to read this poetry not only as an aesthetic revo-
lution, but as a defiant and ironic critique of history and traditions.
This type of reading also sees in Pau-Brasil an early expression of
Oswald’s attitude of irreverent, critical, cannibalistic, and carniva-
lesque appropriation (“devoração”) [the devouring] of Eurocentric
ideas and concepts.
I see in Pau-Brasil a broader range of positions. I will focus on
topics and themes that have rarely been considered. My readings
are built upon both the negative and the overtly celebratory recep-
tion of the author’s first poetry book. In the literature review I pro-
vide in chapter five, I explain the debate surrounding Pau-Brasil. I
agree with some arguments but also disagree, in part, with both po-
sitions. Oswald’s deployment of irony, parody, and humor cannot
be reduced to one single ideological or political position. I analyze
several poems in Pau-Brasil with emphasis on the liaisons and the
exchange of ideas between Oswald de Andrade, Blaise Cendrars,
and Paulo Prado. I focus mostly on the “São Martinho” section of
Pau-Brasil, which is devoted to Prado’s main farm at the time (the
São Martinho farm, located in today’s city of Pradópolis). The Ban-
deirante trope is also present in various poems. In general, the poet-
ic discourse in Pau-Brasil displays a deceptively ludic character. I
focus on aspects of immanence, or the allusions to certain non-visu-
al (ancestral, historical) aspects of the poems. The selected poems
connect modernity to specific historical developments, with special
emphasis in the representation of São Paulo as the center of moder-
nity and as the cradle of the most dynamic historical agents in
Brazilian history.
My study is essentially a critique of the framework that supports
the institutionalized definitions and readings of the early modernist
period. It is a critique of the simplistic notions of rupture and
emancipation that have framed the standard definition of Mod-
17
Prado makes reference here to the Jacobins, who formed the nationalist group
during the French Revolution.
INTRODUCTION 29
ernism. It is also a critique of the time-bound conventions that

structure the study of Modernism in Brazil (e.g “the heroic phase”
versus “the mature phase”), which tend to homogenize and simplify
this literature. My critique of the self-aggrandizing rhetoric of the
modernists, which is largely reproduced in much of the criticism
and historiography, does not invalidate or discard this entire body
of work. It simply evaluates some of the adverse effects that such
constructions have for the study of modern Brazilian literature. My
emphasis on the aspect of self-legitimation of the critical and his-
torical discourse produced by modernist intellectuals puts in evi-
dence their self-interest; it calls attention to the degree of invest-
ment that these intellectuals display when they assume the role of
critics and arbiters of their own literary output. By the same token,
my analysis of their texts is based on the recognition of the centrali-
ty of their legacy: a legacy that I do not discard. On the contrary,
my readings attempt to avoid commonplaces and conventions that I
think have impoverished the study of the modernist legacy. I ex-
plore topics and issues that have received less attention exactly in
an attempt to revitalize interest in this legacy, which is still relevant
and should not be kept in a museum of national memory in ossified
form.
INTRODUCTION 31
PART ONE
THE METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION
CHAPTER ONE
THE BUILDING PROCESS:

LEGITIMATION AND SELF-LEGITIMATION
the traditional scholarship and historiography on Brazilian

I N
Modernism the standard definition of Modernism revolves
around the notion of rupture.1 The modernist movement, especially
in the early 1920s, is interpreted as a profound cultural revolution
in the arts and literature. The details of this rupture (or ruptures)
are explained only at the level of the aesthetic. However, in this
kind of discourse, the aesthetic innovations attributed to Mod-
ernism usually assume meanings that transcend the realm of the
aesthetic. Implied in this discourse is that such ruptures also occur
at the ideological, political, ethical, and moral levels. This definition
appears more explicitly in the discourse of literary historiography.
Modernism is said to have ushered in a distinct language that re-
flected a new intellectual attitude.2 These literary historians claim
that the modernists aggressively attacked the artistic and literary in-
stitutions that prevailed in Brazil. The literature that predominated
at that time, especially Parnassian poetry and Art Nouveau prose, is
1
I am referring to traditional histories and a kind of aesthetic criticism that
prevailed in Brazil from the 1950s until, at least, the early 1980s. There are excep-
tions to this kind of formal criticism, but they are rare. I will explain the details of
this kind of scholarship in chapter two.
2
Amora 185-86; Andrade, O movimento 71-75; Bosi, História concisa 391;
Brito 161-178; Candido and Castelo 7; Coutinho 283- 331; Coutinho, A literatura 1-
37; Lafetá 25-36; Lima, Quadro sintético 63; Martins, A literatura brasileira 9-34;
Milliet 7-8; Pereira qtd. in Coutinho, A literatura 37; Sodré, História da literatura
brasileira 524.
33
criticized or dismissed as superficial, verbose, and subservient to

European ideals.3 Only a few authors of the Belle Époque escape
such criticism.4
The new roles that modernist intellectuals envisioned for their
generation are said to be marked by the desire to participate in the
construction of a renewed discourse of national identity. Their
openness for the new ideas and forms of expression is said to have
been expressed through the affirmation of popular culture, the use
of a Brazilian language, and the desire to bring literature and art
out of institutional ivory towers and into daily life. Along these lines
Modernism as a whole is defined as a watershed cultural movement
that renewed (or revolutionized) the entire Brazilian intellectual
landscape. The era of Modernism (~1920-1945) thus represented a
foundational and redemptive moment in Brazil’s intellectual history,
the time when literary and artistic expression became truly Brazil-
ian, emancipated, and mature. Thus narrated, the modernist trajec-
tory starts and ends in victory, with the triumph of freedom and au-
thenticity for national literary and artistic expression.5
3
Bosi, História concisa 345-6; Bosi, A literatura brasileira: O pré-modernismo
11-15; Brito 18; Broca 4-5; Milliet 7-8; Lima, Quadro sintético 63-68; Martins 24;
Pereira, Prosa de ficção 255-281; Sodré, História da literatura brasileira 524.
4
In terms of prose writers, only Euclides da Cunha, Lima Barreto, and some-
times Graça Aranha receive favorable criticism in this historiography. Some Sym-
bolist poets are praised as well. Among them Cruz e Souza, Alphonsus de
Guimarães, and Augusto dos Anjos are seen as the main representatives of this style
of poetry in Brazil. For an example of this categorization, see the sections on Sim-
bolismo and Pré-modernismo in Alfredo Bosi’s História concisa 295-374.
5
It would be almost impossible to list all the texts that in one way or another re-
produce this view of Brazilian Modernism. I am providing a list of literary histories
that I have consulted and that include similar definitions and similar timelines and ex-
planations about Brazilian Modernism. My list excludes articles and books of literary
criticism that focus on specific authors. I opted in favor of works that provide broad
historical views of Modernism in Brazil. This orthodox definition of Modernism ap-
pears in the following publications: Amora, História da literatura; Ávila, ed. O mo-
dernismo; Bosi, História concisa; A literatura brasileira: Pré-modernismo; Brasil, História
crítica da literatura brasileira: O modernismo; Brito, História do modernismo; Candido
and Castelo, Presença da literatura brasileira; Castelo, A literatura brasileira: Origens e
unidade; Coutinho, Introdução à literatura no Brasil; A literatura no Brasil; Lima,
Quadro sintético; Lafetá, 1930: A crítica e o modernismo; Martins, A literatura
brasiliera; Milliet, Panorama; Moisés, História da literatura; Pereira, Prosa de ficção; So-
dré, História da literatura brasileira. There are also high school textbooks that repro-
duce this orthodox view of Modernism, for example: Cereja and Magalhães, Literatura
brasileira. The fact that this definition of Modernism is still included in textbooks for
middle and high-school levels in the mid-1990s is a sign that the official view of Mod-
ernism continues to be deployed in the educational system in Brazil.
THE BUILDING PROCESS 35
This particular feature of criticism and historiography has al-

ready been criticized. In “As relações sociais da produção literária,”
Randal Johnson mentions the “fetish of the rupture” and proposes
alternatives to this kind of immanent form of criticism (180). Many
scholars in Brazil have also pointed out the limitations of this for-
malistic approach and have proposed new interpretations and ap-
proaches to the study of Modernism.6 I will comment on these au-
thors and works below. What I want to emphasize here is that this
valorization of the notion of rupture is a problem that involves
more than methodological limitations of literary criticism. Implicit-
ly or explicitly, the historiography and criticism that represented
Brazilian Modernism in such terms relied on a preconceived telos of
intellectual emancipation. This emancipation is not just what de-
fines Modernism but also what defines “national intelligentsia.” In
other words, there is not just identification with the modernist pro-
ject(s) but also a need to circumscribe this discourse in the larger
context of a liberated intellectual arena. Most of the claims ex-
pressed in literary historiography had been part of the cultural
agenda of early modernists.7 However, this end-goal of emancipa-
tion, often established as a programmatic goal by the modernists,
was turned into a routine, or a ritual, in the narratives that attempt
to define and evaluate Modernism in Brazil. This standardized nar-
rative of Modernism is not merely a reproduction of the mod-
ernists’ ideals and goals. It is a selective appropriation of certain el-
ements of the modernists’ testimonies and certain aspects of their
literary production that are blended into a homogenized sequence
of meaningful events. The alignment of these smaller events forms a
structure that is itself the structuring foundation of “knowledge”
about Brazilian Modernism. This simplified narrative structure is
6
In fact, Johnson published a series of articles in which he mentions the limi-
tations of the formalistic approach to the readings of Modernism, which was pre-
dominant until the 1980s. See “The Institutionalization,” “The Dynamics,” “As re-
lações,” and “Brazilian Modernism: An Idea Out of Place?”
7
The early modernist manifestos broadcast the movement’s intent to transfor
the cultural landscape. These are, by nature, meta-literary pieces of writing, which
establish aesthetic and ideological guidelines for other artists and writers to follow.
The most important manifestos appear in the mid to late 1920s. Mário de Andrade’s
Prefácio interessantíssimo is a short manifesto. His poetics A escrava que não é
Isaura, is a longer piece which also functions as a manifesto. Oswald de Andrade’s
“Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil” and “Manifesto Antropofágico” are among the
most influential ones. For a transcription of all modernist manifestos, see Teles.
intended to restore a measure of unity, coherence, and cohesiveness

that obviously never existed in the complex configurations (and
constant reconfigurations) of the modernists’ cultural agendas.
Modernist intellectuals were well aware of the fact that, even
though they shared the desire to transform the cultural landscape,
there was rarely an agreement as to what path to follow. In spite of
the conflicts among members of the same sub-groups, and of antag-
onistic groups, such conflicts, though mentioned, do not obstruct
the overarching cohesiveness of the narrative of heroic cultural lib-
eration. While Modernism as a whole tends to be idealized, individ-
ual authors receive distinct treatment according to the centrality of
their work in the modernist movement.8
Since this discourse is, in part, a discourse of self-legitimation,
this view of Brazilian Modernism constitutes a metanarrative, a con-
cept developed by Jean-François Lyotard in The Postmodern Condi-
tion (1979, translated into English in 1984). Lyotard points out that
a given form of historicism tells a story (also known as master narra-
tive, grand narrative, or grand récit) that provides an explanatory
framework in relation to which other historical events can be un-
derstood. This story is comprised of other stories that are organized
in a sequential manner. Lyotard contends that the primary function
of these metanarratives is to legitimize knowledge (6-9). Conceived
within institutions of higher learning, metanarratives of knowledge
also fulfill the function of self-legitimation (Lyotard xxiii). The
“postmodern condition” is marked, in Lyotard’s argument, by “in-
credulity toward metanarratives” (xxiv). This crisis of legitimacy oc-
curs from within the systems that produced such metanarratives. It
represents “an internal erosion of the legitimacy principle of knowl-
edge” (39). Within institutions of higher learning, concerns with the
validity of the metanarrative self-legitimizing function arise. Lyotard
describes several of the “language games” used in different kinds of
metanarratives (18-37). The author first distinguishes two main
types of discourse on knowledge: the narrative of “speculation” and
the narrative of “emancipation” (31-37). Narratives that rely on the
concept of speculation are proper to discourse of the sciences,
8
Authors whose work was considered more innovative usually received better
treatment and higher placement in the volumes of literary history. Others, whose
work remained attached to old-fashioned codes, or whose political positions were
too conservative, received less praise. I will return to this topic in chapter two.
while the notion of emancipation legitimizes the discourse of the

humanities. Within the discourse of emancipation Lyotard distin-
guishes two versions of the metanarrative. The first is political and
the second is philosophical (31). In the political version of the dis-
course of emancipation, Lyotard recognizes the function of legit-
imizing the state. The author argues that, in the narrative of free-
dom, the state gains legitimacy not from itself but from the people:
“The state resorts to the narrative of freedom every time it assumes
direct control over the training of the ‘people,’ under the name of
the ‘nation,’ in order to point them down the path of progress”
(32). To exemplify this argument, Lyotard cites in an endnote the
case of the Universidade de São Paulo and a speech given by Júlio de
Mesquita Filho in 1937, which Lyotard describes as a “hard, almost
mystic-military expression” of the metanarrative of emancipation
(93). Júlio de Mesquita Filho was one of the founders of the Uni-
versity of São Paulo. This university and its Faculdade de Filosofia
[The College of Humanities] were to become models for a central-
ized federal university system. Both the Universidade de São Paulo
and the federal university system were born under the sign of Mod-
ernism.
The metanarrative of Modernism constitutes an aesthetic/philo-
sophical manifestation of the narrative of emancipation. It defines
Modernism as the pinnacle, the historical moment when the battle
for an authentic national identity finally achieved its goals. The sto-
ries of the modernists’ deeds constitute a system of interrelated
events in which their collective effort appears as a heroic battle
fought (and won) against the fin de siècle mentality in Brazil, repre-
sented by Parnassianism and Art Nouveau realism in the realm of
literary expression, and by Liberalism and Positivism in the realm
of politics and ideology. In the most euphoric accounts of this bat-
tle Modernism appears as the hero of the narrative, working toward
the end-goal of emancipation of the national intelligentsia. Other
accounts state that Modernism brings about a renewal of the artistic
and literary languages. In most of them it is possible to detect the
identification of the historian, at some level, within this epic narra-
tive. Therefore, the metanarrative of Modernism is not simply the
discourse of legitimation and canonization of Modernism. This
metanarrative, which is developed within state cultural institutions
and institutions of higher education, performs multiple functions of
legitimizing Modernism, the state cultural apparatuses, and itself.
Based on this thesis, I will attempt to demonstrate in this chapter

and the next aspects that contributed to the constitution of this
metanarrative as a discourse that legitimizes the state cultural appa-
ratuses, especially the educational system, by appropriating and
standardizing a heroic image of Modernism.
There are several components to this metanarrative. Each of
these components constitutes smaller narrative and structuring
categories that are used to explain certain key moments in the de-
velopment of Modernism. It is a discourse that assumed a some-
what definitive form within institutions of the cultural educational
apparatus of the Brazilian universities around the 1950s. It relies
heavily on narratives and concepts taken from the modernists’
own accounts. In this chapter I intend to focus on one of the most
problematic components of this metanarrative, which is the expla-
nation for the changes that occurred in Modernism in the passage
from the 1920s to the 1930s. I will then contrast that explanation
with that of the studies that dealt with the relationship between
intellectuals and the state during the 1930s and 40s, which consti-
tute the first manifestations of incredulity toward the metanarra-
tive of Brazilian Modernism. In the final section of this chapter I
will explore some of the issues that contributed to the building of
the metanarrative by examining the first efforts to canonize the lit-
erature of Modernism. These were publications authored by mod-
ernist authors, among them Mário de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira,
Alceu Amoroso Lima, and Sérgio Milliet. These first efforts do
not form a cohesive body of historiography, but they suggest tem-
poral demarcations, establish a list of important authors and
works, and, above all, confer authority to these intellectuals to ar-
bitrate the terms of their own canonization. Let me start with one
of the conventional temporal demarcations that render, in aes-
theticized terms, the beginning of the process that leads to this
canonization.
THE “HEROIC” 1920S AND THE “MATURE” 1930S
In this metanarrative it is standard practice to establish a time,

1922, and a place, São Paulo, as a starting point for Modernism.
Some events are often cited as early manifestations of avant-garde
art in São Paulo during the World War I years. For instance, Anita
Malfatti’s art exhibition in 1917 is often cited as a key event.9 How-

ever, the event that officially marks the beginning of the modernist
movement in Brazil is the Week of Modern Art, which took place in
São Paulo’s Municipal Theater in February 11-18, 1922.10 The peri-
od between 1922 and 1930 is generally referred to as the early
phase of Modernism, and it is portrayed as an iconoclastic reaction
against the intellectual apathy that reigned in Brazil in the late
1800s and early 1900s. In contrast to the incendiary 1920s, Mod-
ernism, from the 1930s onwards, tends to be interpreted as a ma-
ture movement marked by a constructive ethos, an attitude of affir-
mation of Brazilian history and traditions, a broader and less
experimental scope of aesthetic possibilities, and an overall more
inclusive notion of national identity (Bosi, História concisa 431-37;
Candido and Castello 26-33; Coutinho, Introdução 296-301).
The division of Modernism in two distinct aesthetic phases (the
first from 1922 to approximately 1930, and the second from 1930
to 1945) might have been first suggested by Mário de Andrade,
who, in his influential essay “O movimento modernista,” a public
speech delivered in 1942, affirms: “Principiou-se o movimento nos
salões. E vivemos uns oito anos, até perto de 1930, na maior orgia
intelectual que a história artística do país registra.... E no entanto, é
9
Anita Malfatti’s art exhibit is seen as an important event because it introduces
avant-garde aesthetics in São Paulo. The event is also highlighted in most historical
accounts about Modernism because of the strong reaction against the new aesthet-
ics expressed by Monteiro Lobato in a review titled “A propósito da exposição
Malfatti” [ On Malfatti’s Exhibition”]. This review appeared in the Estado de São
Paulo, December 20, 1917. See a transcription of the texts in Batista, Lopez, and Li-
ma, Primeiro tempo modernista 45-8. This negative review ended up helping histori-
ans and critics build a narrative that emphasizes the shock provoked by the intro-
duction of the new aesthetics in the arts. It corroborates the general argument that
modernists in the beginning had to fight hard against the conservative taste and
mentality of the bourgeois public. References to Anita Malfatti’s first art exhibition
as one of the earliest manifestations of the aesthetics of Modernism in Brazil appear
in Amora 183; Brito 40-1; Bosi, História concisa 377; Candido and Castello 11;
Coutinho, ed. 13; and in many other accounts.
10
The Week of Modern Art is also narrated as an event that provoked violent
reactions in the public. Andrade mentions the booing he received while attempting
to read verses from Paulicéia desvairada (O movimento 15). Others talk about being
cursed and thrown rotten eggs. In general, there is a lot more emphasis on the
shock and dismay of the audience than on the performances themselves. These sto-
ries contribute to the mystique of heroism that surrounds the early modernist mani-
festations in Brazil. See also Oswald de Andrade’s description of the hostile public
reception toward the modernist performances in this event in “O modernismo,” Es-
tética e política 125-27.
justo por esta data de 1930, que principia para a Inteligência

brasileira uma fase mais calma, mais modesta e quotidiana, mais
proletária, por assim dizer, de construção” (O movimento mo-
dernista 34, 43).11 [The movement started in the salons. And we lived
some eight years, until around 1930, in the biggest intellectual orgy
ever registered in the history of this country . . . And it is just around
this date of 1930 that a calmer, more modest and quotidian, more
proletarian phase, so to speak, of construction starts.]. This short
passage contains a sketch of a historical framework that explains in
broad strokes and in simple terms a very complex and long period
of time for literature and the arts in Brazil. Andrade covers eight
years of the history of Modernism in one sentence. The author pro-
vides a homogenized view of the 1920s, by portraying it as a contin-
uum, as a coherent whole. Andrade defines the 1920s as the period
in which the modernists lived in an “intellectual orgy,” suggesting
that they worked in an environment of total freedom. Thus, this
passage already puts forth the notion that the 1920s were a time of
intense creativity, innovation, rebelliousness, and transgression for
the modernist movement, which is also hyperbolically described as
the biggest extravaganza in the history of national culture.
On the other hand, Andrade establishes a temporal mark, 1930,
as the beginning of yet another transformation in the intellectual
milieu. Along with this demarcation, the author also provides an-
other generic characterization of the literature that starts to appear
in the 1930s, qualifying it as a reflection of a “modest,” “proletari-
an,” and “constructive” type of literary expression. It is also im-
plied in this passage that the literature of the 1930s not only had a
connection with the earlier modernist endeavors, but it also was in
a way made possible because of the experiments of the 1920s.
When Mário de Andrade speaks of the 1920s, he is talking about
his own experience (i. e. “we lived”). But when he makes reference
to the 1930s, he no longer uses the “we” form, preferring instead to
refer to a broader group of intellectuals (i. e. “the Brazilian intelli-
gentsia”). Andrade is probably referring to or including the group
of modernists from the Northeast and the literature of the neo-real-
ist novel, which he depicts as a development of the 1920s, but also
as something distinct in spirit and attitude. This is, nonetheless, a
11
I am using the original book version of this essay that was later published as
an article.
subtle assertion of “paternity” and an appropriation of the work

that is being done by new generation of modernist writers in the
1930s. It is a way to assume for his own generation part of the re-
sponsibility for this development.
This argument that the best writers and literary works of the
1930s somehow derive from the early modernist movement was a
construction with which the authors of the Northeast did not al-
ways agree. In a 1935 essay, José Lins do Rego made the following
comment: “Para nós, do Recife, essa ‘Semana de Arte Moderna’
nunca existiu, simplesmente porque chegando da Europa, Gilberto
Freyre nos advertira da fraqueza e do postiço do movimento . . . .
Vem agora o Sr. Sérgio Milliet e reinvindica para a tal “Semana” tu-
do que em literatura se tem feito no Brasil, de 1922 para cá” (49-50)
(Emphasis in the original). [To us, from Recife, this ‘Week of Mod-
ern Art’ never existed, simply because when Gilberto Freyre ar-
rived from Europe he warned us about the weakness and the
feigned character of the movement . . . and now comes Mr. Sérgio
Milliet and reclaims for the so-called ‘Week’ everything that has
been done in literature in Brazil since 1922.]
This double characterization of the 1930s as both a develop-
ment derived from the 1920s and as a distinct, more humble, and
less experimental literary expression became the framework which
many historians and would critics follow. In the fragment quoted
above Andrade provides no explanation for this change in attitude
in the intellectual milieu in Brazil. Other authors explain this
change as a maturing of the ideas, and they sometimes point out the
fact that modernists did not need to be as aggressive in the 1930s
because the movement had gained supporters along the way. The
framework of the “two phases” that accounts for the trajectory of
the modernist movement as a natural development of the progres-
sive forces set in motion in the 1920s can be clearly seen in the fol-
lowing passage from 1952, by Lúcia Miguel Pereira:
O movimento modernista à história literária pertence já como es-

cola, que ninguém mais escreve como em 1922; os seus imperati-
vos formais estão arquivados, catalogados para uso dos estudio-
sos. Mas a sua influência subsiste . . . Foi assimilado porque
encerrava de fato princípios substanciais, porque constituiu revo-
lução completa, e não simples revolta, muito menos uma imposi-
ção acadêmica de preceitos literários. Como revolução, atuou so-
bre o meio, modificando-o; como revolução, superou a fase des-

trutiva, norteou-se para a construtiva. Contrariando o nome, sob
o moderno buscou o permanente . . . [Oriundo] de correntes esté-
ticas estrangeiras, logo se nacionalizou; negador em seu ímpeto
inicial, depressa tornou-se afirmativo; dogmático em suas fórmu-
las inaugurais, não tardou a adquirir a maleabilidade indispensá-
vel à ação; ávido de novidades na sua origem, acercou-se da tra-
dição mais vívida de nosso passado literário; intelectualmente
aristocrata em sua instalação, rapidamente se humanizou; festivo
e algo humorista em seus primórdios, ganhou depois a gravidade
dos impulsos criadores; parecendo a princípio desagregador, se-
paratista, foi afinal um forte agente de coesão. (Qtd. in Coutinho,
Literatura no Brasil 17)
The modernist movement belongs, as a style, to literary history,

since nobody writes the way they did in 1922 anymore; its formal
imperatives are filed, catalogued for the use of scholars. But its
influence persists . . . It [the movement] was assimilated because it
in fact encompassed solid principles, because it constituted a to-
tal revolution, not just a simple revolt, much less an academic im-
position of literary precepts. As a revolution, it acted upon the
environment, modifying it; as a revolution, it overcame a destruc-
tive phase, moving toward a constructive one. Contradicting its
name, under the sign of the modern it searched for the perma-
nent . . . Originating in foreign aesthetic movements, it soon be-
came national; negative in its initial impetus, it soon became af-
firmative; dogmatic in its inaugural formulas, it soon acquired a
flexibility indispensable to action; eager for novelty in its origin,
it acquainted itself with the most vivid tradition of our literary
past; intellectually aristocratic at its onset, it rapidly became hu-
mane; festive and somewhat humorous in its beginnings, it later
gained the gravity of the creative impulses; apparently disruptive,
separatist at first, it turned out to be a strong cohesive agent.
Pereira juxtaposes several antithetical adjectives in an attempt to

reconcile many of the contradictions as well as the paradoxes that
make it so complicated to narratize the movement in a linear, ho-
mogeneous, and coherent flow of ideas and actions. The author
clearly sees these opposing forces as transformative in the intellec-
tual area because the trajectory generated from these conflicting
elements always led Modernism in the direction of intellectual
emancipation; of becoming national. Thus, in Pereira’s conceptual-
ization, Modernism as a whole underwent and caused a “complete
revolution” in the intellectual milieu because it was able to over-

come all of its initial obstacles and limitations.
In a way, Pereira’s explanation could be read as an aestheticized
interpretation of the non-aesthetic changes that affected the cultur-
al arena from the 1930s onwards, but the author does not attempt
to explain the reasons for these changes. Pereira describes a mo-
ment at which Modernism has achieved a new status and no longer
faced significant opposition. Afrânio Coutinho also refers to the
late 1920s as a point in which Modernism had defeated its oppo-
nents: “O Modernismo, como ruptura com as tradições conser-
vadoras e acadêmicas, estava triunfante. Disseminara-se por todo o
país . . . (Literatura no Brasil 33). [Modernism, as a rupture with the
conservative and academic traditions, was triumphant. It had
spread throughout the whole country . . .] Likewise, Pereira implies
that Modernism had finally come full circle as it began to dominate
the cultural landscape. Such explanations, of course, can only be
defended if one understands the modernist movement as a mono-
lithic force with a clear and coherent cultural project. Pereira’s de-
scription of the triumph of Modernism constitutes a sketch of the
totalizing metanarrative of Modernism. In her characterization of
the general “spirit” of Modernism, the author defines the 1920s as
“rebellious years” and the 1930s as a “constructive phase,” which is
very similar to Mário de Andrade’s formulation.
As it is typical in all of the narratives that make up the metanar-
rative of Modernism, this is an explanation that establishes a ho-
mogenized meaning for a cultural phenomenon that was diverse,
fragmented, and full of internal conflict. This particular construc-
tion of the 1930s and 40s as the “mature” years of Modernism rep-
resents the rhetorical component that most clearly articulates the
emancipatory function of the metanarrative. It narrates the moment
in which Modernism becomes dominant and Brazilian intelligentsia
is in a path for liberation. This is also a type of construction in
which the political and ideological meanings of the modernist tri-
umph are alluded to but not explained in explicit terms. The al-
leged cultural transformation that Modernism underwent is narrat-
ed, first and foremost, as a process of aesthetic gain and maturation.
Developments outside the aesthetic or outside the realm of ideas
are not explained.
The preceding discussion is a classic example of the immanen-
tist view of Modernism. Scholars who subscribe to this view have
had to exercise their imagination more than their interpretive skills

to explain changes in the literary milieu in the 1930s as part of the
same “revolutionary” process initiated in 1922. They elide the non-
aesthetic components of the process of restructuring the political
sphere (i.e. the rise of Getúlio Vargas’s Aliança Liberal [Liberal Al-
liance] and the fall of the old oligarchic system) accompanied by ev-
ident shifts in the literary milieu (i.e. the rise of the aesthetics of
neo-realism with the debut of a new generation of novelists from
Brazil’s Northeast). In order to maintain the conception of the
modernist movement as an organic process of evolution in Brazilian
literature, critics and historians pre-empted the literary production
of a new generation of writers, labeling it the “second phase of
Modernism,” even though, in some cases, this new production bore
little resemblance to the 1920s. Some of these new writers were in-
fluenced by the early modernist manifestations, but many of them
introduced an aesthetic sensibility and themes that were never part
of the 1920s modernist output. This characterization holds true on-
ly to those who see literary movements as autonomous entities with
historicities of their own. Only if one takes for granted that the au-
thors who were central to Modernism in the 1930s were the same
or the newcomers were heirs of certain currents of the modernist
movement in the 1920s does this explanation satisfy.
The highlight of the 1930s period–the “regional novel,” also
called the “neorealist novel,”–bears little resemblance to the ex-
perimental prose of the most influential novels of the 1920s such as
Mário de Andrade’s Macunaíma (1928) or Oswald de Andrade’s
Memórias sentimentais de João Miramar (1924) [The Sentimental
Memoirs of João Miramar]. The neorealist novel of the 1930s fo-
cuses, for the most part, on the problems of the backlands of the
northeast region. Some of the most prominent authors in this genre
were Jorge Amado, Graciliano Ramos, Rachel de Queiroz, José
Lins do Rego, and José Américo de Almeida. Some of these authors
(Amado, Queiroz, and Ramos) were of a Socialist/Communist ideo-
logical orientation. They were also influenced by American writers
such as John Steinbeck, John Dos Passos, Ernest Hemingway,
William Faulkner, and others.
In poetry the most celebrated writers who debuted in the 1930s
were from other parts of Brazil, and they brought along a variety of
influences that were not always directly related to the 1920s.
Among this new generation of poets there was a revival of the aes-
thetics of Symbolism and classical forms such as the sonnet, espe-

cially among the Festa group of Catholic writers based in Rio de
Janeiro. Murilo Mendes, Jorge de Lima, and Augusto Frederico
Schmidt are also poets usually associated with Catholicism. Carlos
Drummond de Andrade, who had been connected to the São Paulo
modernists since the 1920s, especially with Mário de Andrade, de-
buted in 1930 with Alguma poesia. His poetry maintains some
points of contact with the experimental poetry of the 1920s, but it
could not be reduced to any particular aesthetic group or ideologi-
cal current.
The above is just a brief description of the changes introduced
by the literature of the 1930s, but it is enough to argue that the
modernist literature of the 1930s and 40s cannot be seen as a mere
development of the experiments of the 1920s. In the 1930s and 40s,
as in any other period, the literary production presents multiple
temporalities, styles, an even broader range of subject matter, new
authors, and new aesthetic influences. Some segments of this liter-
ary production, such as the neorealist novel, were directed at a
broader audience and achieved commercial success.12 The great
publishing house of the 1930s was the José Olympio Editora, which
featured many modernist authors but mostly neorealist prose writ-
ers (Hallewell 253-273). Thus, to historicize the changes in the liter-
ary milieu from the 1920s to 1930s in a linear fashion–as a continu-
ous flow of ideas and a natural development–is to impose a
continuity that existed only partially. There were continuities,
which include such traits as nationalism and the need to explore the
culture of Brazilian countryside, as well as disruptions, which in-
clude a return to less experimental forms, especially in the prose of
the 1930s. Not everything that is produced in the 1930s and 40s is a
direct consequence of the experiments of the 1920s. Even if seen
exclusively from the formal point of view, the changes that occur in
the 1930s still present a challenge to historians and critics. Because
they conceptualize the history of literature in a diachronic fashion,
many literary historians and critics see a “development” of styles
that, for the most part, tends to move in the direction of experi-
mentalism and freedom from formal constraints. However, in the
case of Brazilian Modernism, because the early output of the 1920s
12
For a detailed explanation of the market for this kind of literature, see
Miceli, Intelectuais 75-88.
was formally more experimental than that of the 1930s, the concep-
tualization of its history based on an “evolutionary” timeline is con-
tradicted.
In order to make sense of this movement that seemingly went
“backward” in aesthetic terms, João Luiz Lafetá, for instance, also
uses the same temporal demarcations, but he coins new terms. In his
classic 1930: A crítica e o modernismo [1930: Criticism and Mod-
ernism] Lafetá divides the history of Brazilian Modernism in two
phases. He labels the early production (1922-1929) as “the aesthetic
project,” and the production (from the 1930 to 1945) “the ideologi-
cal project” of Modernism (19). The first phase was marked by a
struggle to overthrow traditional forms and styles such as Parnas-
sianism, while the second phase was marked by the consolidation of
the modernist victory in the cultural realm and a move toward an
ideological project. Lafetá analyzes the discourse of four active crit-
ics in the 1930s (Alceu Amoroso Lima, Agripino Grieco, Octavio de
Faria, and Mário de Andrade).13 Lafetá places the authors as the
main agents of the changes and initiatives for the “ideological pro-
ject” of Modernism. Lafetá’s nomenclature for the modernist “pro-
jects” comes closer to a non-formalistic explanation, but perhaps the
choice of words was not the most effective. By opposing aesthetic to
ideological, the author proposes a separation between two aspects
that are in fact inseparable. The author does mention the fact that
the aesthetic project already contains an ideological component (20).
However, Lafetá describes the “ideological project” entirely within
the framework of the language and the contents of the works, which
in his study are works of literary criticism. His argument is that criti-
cism carries out the task of disseminating (or “diluting”) the political
or non-aesthetic content of the modernist cultural project. The rea-
soning is correct, because criticism is a key component of the “de-
mocratizing project,” to which Canclini refers, as it extends the
modernist cultural projects to a broader audience.
However, Lafetá’s analysis is limited to the contents of the dis-
course of criticism, which the author understands as an au-
tonomous area. The author does not account for other develop-
13
Each of these authors represents, in Lafetá’s view, a distinct ideological posi-
tion. Alceu Lima represents Catholicism, Agripino Grieco represents Impression-
ism, Octavio de Faria’s criticism represents Fascism, and Mário de Andrade’s repre-
sents a balance between aestheticism and ideology.
ments that played a role in the reconfigurations of the literary mi-

lieu of the 1930s. Furthermore, Lafetá prescribes a formal criterion
for the evaluation of the quality of literary criticism: “...a ‘boa’ críti-
ca será, para nós, aquela que melhor perceba a literatura enquanto
literatura.... a década de 20 inaugura no Brasil a nossa mo-
dernidade;14 a década de 30, ao mesmo tempo que incorpora e de-
senvolve alguns aspectos das doutrinas modernistas, inicia também
seu processo de diluição” (31-32) (emphasis in the original).
[...“‘Good’ criticism will be, for us, that which best perceives litera-
ture as literature.... the decade of the 20s inaugurates our modernity
in Brazil; the decade of the 30s, while it incorporates and develops
some aspects of the modernist doctrines, it also starts the process of
their dilution.] In Lafetá’s assessment only Mário de Andrade’s
mode of criticism meets the highest standards. Good criticism for
Lafetá is basically criticism that occupies itself with what is intrinsi-
cally literary, not ideological. The author also considers “good” crit-
icism that which accepted the aesthetic innovations of Modernism,
and bad criticism that which rejected it and focused exclusively on
the ideological aspects of the discourse:
Fizemos aí uma escolha principal: consideramos como “boa” crí-

tica aquela que mantivesse no mais alto grau a consciência for-
mal, aquela que procurasse abordar as obras a partir de sua reali-
zação propriamente literária e artística. Procuramos verificar em
que medida os nossos autores se aproximavam dessa concepção,
em que medida aceitavam os postulados básicos do movimento
modernista. (252). (Emphasis added).
We have made here our main choice: we considered “good” crit-

icism that which maintained the highest level of formal con-
sciousness, that which approached literary works from their spe-
cific literary and artistic accomplishment. We have tried to verify
in what measure our authors remain close to this conception; in
what measure they accepted the basic precepts of the modernist
movement.
Acceptance of the modernist precepts becomes, in this view, the
14
Lafetá incorrectly associates modernity with Modernism here, when in fact
modernity can be traced back, as Fausto Cunha argues, to the era of romanticism in
Brazil and Europe. See Cunha O romantismo no Brasil.
gold standard against which literary criticism of the 1930s should

be judged. Lafetá’s study is still a very important contribution to the
study of Modernism because it maps four distinct ideological posi-
tions in the discourse of literary criticism in the 1930s. The author
captures part of the process involved in the “democratizing pro-
ject” of Modernism, but Lafetá clearly prescribes a kind of aesthetic
criticism that conceives “literature as literature” and remains free
from dogmatic ideological positions. By doing so, the author does
not recognize that his own defense of the aesthetic precepts of
Modernism is not only ideological but prescriptive of an ideology.
Therefore, Pereira’s and Lafetá’s accounts could be interpreted
as formalistic interpretations for processes that involved much more
than aesthetic or ideological projects. They explain the process as
something circumscribed to the literary discourse (form and ideolo-
gy). That is, what is most relevant in their argument is the fact that
the language of Modernism becomes less focused on aesthetic ex-
perimentation and more focused on the ideological aspects of their
work. Though vague, such explanations for the changes in the liter-
ature of 1930s are widely accepted. Let us see which aspects of
these developments were elided in the discourse of literary criticism
and historiography.
BREAKING AWAY FROM AESTHETIC CRITICISM
It was only in the last couple of decades of the twentieth centu-

ry that this exalted image and strictly aesthetic interpretations of
Modernism started to be contested. This was first done by studies
exploring the connections between modernist intellectuals, the rul-
ing classes, and the state. The first re-evaluation of Modernism
started in the late 1970s with the weakening of the military regime
during what became known as the “political opening” of the dicta-
torship. The work of sociologist Sérgio Miceli, Intelectuais e classe
dirigente no Brasil (1920-1945), published in 1979, is possibly the
first significant counter-narrative of Modernism. This is not to say
that there were not studies and essays that contested the discourse
of traditional historiography, as I will demonstrate throughout this
book. One such example is Lêdo Ivo’s book-length essay Mo-
dernismo e modernidade, in which the author criticizes the aristocrat-
ic spirit of the initial manifestations of Modernism and praises the
novelists from the Northeast for breaking away from such aristo-
cratic and cosmopolitan literature. However, since the late seventies
it is not the form or the meaning of modernist texts that became
prominent or criticized. It is the topic of the institutional founda-
tion of Modernism that has become one of the most pursued topics
of research in Brazilian studies. This trend has been further stimu-
lated by the opening of private archives of the Vargas era in the
CPDOC of Fundação Getúlio Vargas.15
Miceli argues that the fall of the oligarchic system led to the so-
cial and economic decline of oligarchic families from which many
modernist intellectuals descended. In the face of this imminent
downfall, intellectuals recognized the need for “professionaliza-
tion.” With the expansion of the market for symbolic goods, espe-
cially in São Paulo, they had new opportunities. Miceli also includes
authors from other regions of Brazil where the modernist move-
ment flourished such, as the Northeast, Minas Gerais, and Rio
Grande do Sul. Another important development Miceli points out
is expansion of the state apparatuses, which would absorb many of
these intellectuals (129-87). His study, whose primary sources were
the memoirs and autobiographies of modernist intellectuals, faced a
great deal of resistance in the area of literary studies in Brazil. Even
those who recognized its importance, like Antonio Candido, ex-
pressed disagreement with Miceli’s arguments.16 Citing the case of
Carlos Drummond de Andrade, Candido argues that the involve-
ment of modernist intellectuals did not always affect their political
15
The Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de Hístoria Contemporânea do
Brasil (CPDOC) of the Fundação Getúlio Vargas was opened in the seventies as
part of the process of political abertura [opening] during the final years of the mili-
tary dictatorship (1964-1984). The center has a variety of official documents and
classified government information from the Vargas years. For one of the first publi-
cations that benefited from CPDOC’s files, see Oliveira, Gomes, and Whately.
16
Candido made the following comments: “Carlos Drummond de Andrade
‘serviu’ o Estado Novo como funcionário que já era antes dele, mas não alienou por
isso a menor parcela de sua dignidade ou autonomia mental. Tanto assim que suas
idéias contrárias eram patentes e foi como membro do gabinete do ministro Ca-
panema que publicou os versos políticos revolucionários de Sentimento do mundo e
compôs os de A rosa do povo” (Prefácio Intelectuais xii). [Carlos Drummond de
Andrade ‘served’ the Estado Novo as a public servant, which he was even before its
inception, but he did not compromise the slightest portion of his dignity or of his
mental autonomy [sic]. So much so that his disagreements were open and it was as
a member of Capanema’s office that he wrote the revolutionary verses of Sentimento
do mundo and composed the [verses] of A rosa do Povo.]
views or their ability to contest the state’s ideology through their lit-
erature (“Prefácio” XII). Candido’s contention that the modernists’
involvement with an authoritarian state does not automatically
compromise their integrity as intellectuals raises an important issue
that might have been overlooked in Miceli’s study. The author did
provide differentiated classifications for the analysis of the ways in
which the intellectuals of that generation served the state bureau-
cracy;17 however, since this was the first time modernists appear as
supporters of an authoritarian regime, Miceli’s study carried an im-
plicit accusation against the modernists. By establishing connec-
tions between intellectuals and the state and by emphasizing mod-
ernist intellectuals’ oligarchical origins, Miceli’s depiction of that
generation conveys an image of the modernists that stands in con-
trast to the usual heroic image within which they were usually
framed.
Randal Johnson, who introduced this debate in the area of
Brazilian Studies in the United States, emphasizes that the different
levels of involvement and identification with the state’s policies as
well as the case of each intellectual should be analyzed individually.
The depth of these intellectuals’ participation in nation building
varied considerably depending on their positions within the state
and their ideological profiles:
There existed different degrees of identification with the regime.

Cassiano Ricardo and his fellow verdeamarelistas strongly sup-
ported the Estado Novo and thus acted in consonance with their
own ideological and political convictions. Carlos Drummond de
Andrade’s support waned as the authoritarian regime neared its
inevitable demise and as he increasingly, but briefly, flirted with
socialist ideas. Mário de Andrade, as evidenced in his many let-
ters on the subject, was torn by the demands of the state or fed-
17
The author distinguishes between intellectuals who became politicians and
were in support of the state and those who occupied lower positions in the cultural
apparatus of the administration. The “intelectuais reacionários” [reactionary intel-
lectuals] are distinguished from the “homens sem profissão,” [men without a pro-
fession], like Oswald de Andrade and Candido Motta Filho, who belonged to rich
families. There is also the “primos pobres,” [poor cousins] of the oligarchy, like
Mário de Andrade, who may not have supported the state, but who had to rely on
employment in these apparatuses. In general, though, Miceli implies that all of
them were either in support of, or in compliance with, the administration. See
Miceli 26-35.
eral cultural bureaucracy and never felt particularly comfortable

with politics or with close proximity to those in power. (“Dy-
namics” 16)
Johnson and Candido are correct to point out that the coopting of
modernist intellectuals into the Vargas administration should not
be, in itself, taken as proof of these intellectuals’ support of the gov-
ernment or even a total compromise of their individual beliefs. The
reasons for their involvement with the state administration were
many, and the level of involvement and support for the state varied
considerably from individual to individual. There were aspects of
the administration’s policies which many of the intellectuals of the
time supported. Still, Candido’s reaction also reveals his concern
with the images and reputations of some modernists. It was as if
Miceli had caught Candido and an entire generation of literary crit-
ics and historians in a lie.
Silviano Santiago was one of the first literary critics in Brazil to
incorporate some of Miceli’s arguments and propose a re-reading of
the modernist texts and a critique of their overwhelmingly favor-
able, if not celebratory, critical reception. In the essay “A per-
manência do discurso da tradição no modernismo,”18 written in
1985, Santiago admits that his generation had been “conditioned”
to think of the modernist expression as the aesthetics of rupture.
The author states that to think outside of these parameters was
something new to him (92). His essay explores aspects of the poetic
language of Modernism and instances when the “discourse of tradi-
tion” makes its way in the modernist text. In “Fechado para bal-
anço: Sessenta anos de modernismo,” Santiago discusses aspects of
the preponderance of modernist authors and texts in Brazil and of-
fers some alternatives for his and the new generation of intellectuals
to get rid of the ties that link them to their “intellectual fathers–the
modernists” (87). In “O intellectual modernista revisitado,” Santia-
go analyzes both the impact of Miceli’s work, and the value of auto-
biographies, as well as letters, as legitimate documentation to sup-
port literary criticism. Santiago’s series of essays are not only
expressive as reflections on the modernist heritage, but they reveal
18
In an article “Presença da tradição no modernism brasileiro” of 2010, Maria
Tereza de Almeida Lima also highlights some instances in which there is a presence
of tradition in Brazilian Modernism. Her article does not add much to Santiago’s
analysis but she includes other authors such as Jorge Luis Borges and T.S. Eliot.
how an entire generation of critics and intellectuals were still, in the

mid-1980s, conditioned to interpret the modernist text exclusively
through the notion of rupture. Santiago’s essays show this distin-
guished scholar making an effort to overcome the limitations of
such mind frame.
In Orfeu extático na metrópole (1992), cultural historian Nicolau
Sevcenko provides a broader historical view of the 1920s in São
Paulo, which also includes a critique of the early years of Mod-
ernism. His analysis of the cultural, historical and economic circum-
stances in São Paulo inserts Modernism into a context of economic
and political crises, because of the imminent fall of the coffee aris-
tocracy and the oligarchic political system. The author describes the
involvement of the aristocracy with the arts and their support of the
modernist group of intellectuals as a political reaction against the
developing industrial bourgeoisie. In this environment of anxiety
the strong nationalist discourse that emerges within the São Paulo
modernist group often acquires, in Sevcenko’s analysis, a reac-
tionary, resentful, and even xenophobic dimension.19 These are as-
pects that had rarely been raised in the scholarship on Modernism,
unless the topic was the work of intellectuals such as Cassiano Ri-
cardo, Menotti Del Picchia, Plínio Salgado, Octávio de Faria, or
Oliveira Vianna.
José Miguel Wisnik also contributes to the effort to interpret as-
pects of the modernist legacy that disrupt the totalizing narrative of
aesthetic criticism. In O coro dos contrários (1978), the author fo-
cuses on the music in and “around” the Week of Modern Art, with
emphasis on the projects of Villa-Lobos and Mário de Andrade in
which a populist representation of nationality, still highly influ-
enced by Romanticism, is central to their musical projects. In
“Getúlio da Paixão Cearense,” from 1983, Wisnik describes the
contribution of Mário de Andrade and Villa-Lobos for the state
project of a pragmatic use of music to incite patriotism. The author
demonstrates how the musical nationalism of the modernists rejects
manifestations of urban popular culture and privileges a romantic
19
There were studies published before Sevecenko’s that address the conserva-
tive discourse within Modernism. One example that comes to mind is the afore
mentioned study by Lafetá’s 1930:A crítica e o modernismo in its analysis of Alceu
Amoroso Lima and Octávio de Faria’s literary criticism. Miceli’s Intelectuais also
analyses the political positions of conservative modernist intellectuals.
view of the rural manifestations, because urban cultures would dis-

turb their homogenized and paternalistic view of national culture
(131-33).
However, apart from these notable exceptions, it is still easier to
find reissues of studies that perpetuate the institutionalized view of
Modernism. In spite of any generalizations that it might contain,
Miceli’s book opened up the path for a re-evaluation of Mod-
ernism, influencing many studies about the relationship between in-
tellectuals and the state in Brazil.20 Counter-narratives began to
emerge in the wake of Miceli’s study. However, Miceli’s study is lim-
ited to the relationship between modernists, the ruling classes, and
the state administration. In order to reevaluate the modernist pro-
duction in view of their connections with power, the attitude of
condemning or defending the modernist generation for their in-
volvement with the nation-building apparatus of the Vargas admin-
istration seems to be a futile effort.
There are more productive paths for reassessing the legacy of
Modernism and for critiquing the old structures of knowledge that
imposed the formal paradigm as the norm for the interpretation of
modernist texts. One important aspect raised by Miceli’s study con-
cerns the means and processes by which Modernism and the mod-
ernists gained legitimacy and how that has affected the interpretation
of their work. Miceli makes it evident that the modernist generation
benefited from, and was, in many cases, in charge of the very institu-
tions and mechanisms of legitimation of their literary production:
As tarefas cumpridas nas organizações políticas e nas instituições

culturais em São Paulo, os encargos assumidos no serviço públi-
co e as atividades desenvolvidas no mercado editorial correspon-
diam a modalidades distintas de mecenato que implicavam, por
sua vez, formas diferentes de retribuição. Os escritores partici-
pantes do movimento modernista em São Paulo foram beneficia-
20
Sérgio Miceli evaluates the reception of his 1979 book and provides short re-
views of publications related to intellectual history that appeared since the publica-
tion of Intelectuais e classe dirigente. He argues that these books were influenced by
the methodology he used in his book. See Miceli, “Intelectuais brasileiros” 369-95.
Daryle Williams explains that the environment of political “abertura” [opening]
that started in 1979, as well as changes in archive management (with the creation of
the Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação da História Contemporânea do Brasil
(CPDOC) provided “new opportunities for a more systematic recovery of the cul-
tural politicking of the Vargas Regime” (Culture Wars 18).
dos pelo mecenato burguês exercido por famílias abastadas e

cultas, ao passo que os intelectuais cooptados para o serviço pú-
blico acabavam se filiando às “panelas” comandadas pelos diri-
gentes da elite burocrática. (xx)
The tasks fulfilled in the political organizations and cultural in-

stitutions of São Paulo, the jobs taken in the public sector, and
the activities developed in the editorial market corresponded to
distinct types of patronage that required, in their turn, different
forms of paying back. The writers who participated in the mod-
ernist movement in São Paulo benefited from the bourgeois pa-
tronage of rich and well-educated families, whereas the intellec-
tuals who were co-opted for public service ended up being
affiliated with the “panelas” [small privilege groups] that were
led by managers of the bureaucratic elites.
Miceli raises the issue of patronage not to simply disqualify the

modernist legacy. His remarks in the quote above introduce cate-
gories that are usually excluded from the vocabulary of immanent
modes of literary criticism. The author provides a generic list of the
structures of power, mechanisms of legitimation, private and insti-
tutional support that made Modernism possible. These were essen-
tial structures providing backing to a cultural movement operating
outside of the market and with little commercial potential. Aimed
at setting new standards for high culture and for a discourse of na-
tional identity, modernism depended on the structures of power
(private and state patronage) in order to achieve and sustain sym-
bolic power over cultural matters. In sum, Miceli emphasizes the
role of cultural politics in creating and adding value to modernist
works. These structures of legitimization were, at that time, the
hegemonic forces behind the construction of an iconoclastic image
of non-conformity with which many modernist authors liked to be
associated. Those aspects were not part of the vocabulary of literary
criticism in Brazil at the time Miceli’s book was published. Part of
the strong reaction caused by Intelectuais e classe dirigente stems
from the fact that Miceli’s methodology–based on Pierre Bourdieu’s
sociological approach21–and his arguments have implications that
challenge not only the predominant ideology of “modernist criti-
21
Sérgio Miceli studied in France with Pierre Bourdieu, who was Miceli’s advi-
sor and the director of his PhD thesis, which was turned into Intelectuais.
cism,” but also the very foundation of the area of literary criticism
in Brazilian academia. In the following section I will provide an
overview of the relationship between intellectuals and the Vargas
administration, according to the scholarship in this area.
MODERNIST INTELLECTUALS AND THE NATION-BUILDING PROJECT

OF THE VARGAS ERA
How exactly did the modernists participate in the Vargas ad-

ministration’s cultural apparatus? It would be a mistake to answer
this question with a coherent and homogeneous narrative. The
growing scholarship in this area has shown the complexities and
contradictions of that relationship. For my purpose here, determin-
ing whether or not modernists individually or collectively con-
formed to the politics of an authoritarian state is irrelevant. The
most important aspect to be considered is how the state cultural
and educational apparatuses were involved in a sort of symbiotic re-
lationship. This relationship was tense and complex, but it was also
mutually empowering. The state gained legitimacy by appropriating
the image of rebelliousness from the modernists and by appointing
many modernists to positions of power within the state administra-
tion in order to craft a discourse of self-legitimation. On the other
hand, intellectuals who participated in the state cultural projects
benefited from the state patronage, as it projected them nationally
and contributed to their canonization. This is not to say, however,
that this relationship was always beneficial for these intellectuals.
As I will detail below, the state’s repressive apparatus also imposed
limitations and sanctions that adversely affected many modernists.
The administration had the upper hand in this relationship, appro-
priating Modernism to cast the state as a progressive force. This ap-
propriation is announced in Getúlio Vargas’ own speech of Octo-
ber 1930: “As forças coletivas que provocaram o movimento
revolucionário do Modernismo na literatura brasileira, que se ini-
ciou com a Semana de Arte Moderna de 1922, são as mesmas que
precipitaram, no campo social e politico, a Revolução de 1930.”
(Vargas 365) [The collective forces that incited the revolutionary
movement of Modernismo in Brazilian literature, which started in
the Week of Modern Art of 1922, are the same that prompted, in
the social and political arenas, the Revolution of 1930.] According
to Nicolau Sevcenko, it was Cassiano Ricardo who suggested that

Vargas establish such a connection, and it was also Ricardo who
wrote this speech (“O renascimento modernista” 204).
In spite of Vargas’ apparent sympathy for the “forces that pro-
voked the modernist movement,” the policies of his administration
were not always approving of the ideas that came from modernist
intellectuals who served in his administration. In general, the Var-
gas state administration used a generic image of Modernism as an
emblem for its cultural and educational policies. The collaboration
of modernist intellectuals from various ideological contours was es-
pecially evident in the projects implemented by the Ministério da
Educação e Saúde (MES) [Ministry of Education and Health], un-
der the command of Gustavo Capanema from 1934 to 1945. Even
though he was a conservative politician whose actions as Minister
of Education denoted his commitment to the Catholic lobby, Ca-
panema kept a lively exchange with intellectuals of diverse ideologi-
cal profiles (Williams, “Capanema, Ministro da Cultura” 251-269).
But the Vargas/Capanema “inclusion” of intellectuals of various
ideological profiles in the cultural apparatus of this essentially anti-
democratic corporate state had a double effect: On the one hand, it
put forth an incisive effort to homogenize and institutionalize cul-
tural and educational areas. On the other hand, it stimulated cultur-
al production without completely obliterating ideological diver-
gence among intellectual factions. The Vargas regime’s cultural
policies were ambiguous enough to keep a level of satisfaction
among several divergent factions of intellectuals in charge of cultur-
al management. Since their nationalistic ideals were not completely
incongruent with the state’s cultural policies, state patronage did
not always represent a political compromise for them. Schwartz-
man, Bomeny, and Costa argue that, with the presence of intellectu-
als such as Carlos Drummond de Andrade in positions of power,
some intellectuals, like Mário de Andrade, whose ideas for a project
of national culture were not always accepted by the administration,
still managed to “smuggle in” some of these ideas through the ties
they maintained with those who were co-opted (Tempos de Capane-
ma 81). According to Williams, Carlos Drummond de Andrade,
Capanema’s chief of staff and a perfect example of a leftist intellec-
tual who occupied a high-ranking position within the government
administration, declared that the actions of the Minister were
“merely tolerated by Vargas.” (Culture Wars 14). Drummond also
argued, according to Williams, that the educational innovation that

took place during the Vargas administration should be credited en-
tirely to Capanema’s initiatives. The Ministério da Educação e
Saúde oversaw a great number of cultural institutions and had con-
siderable autonomy within the state (14).
This is not to say, however, that Vargas was lenient with regard
to opposing political and ideological actions within the govern-
ment. Instead, the co-opting of intellectuals with conflicting politi-
cal and ideological outlooks should be understood as an efficient
maneuver to neutralize opposition. In this way all the major ten-
sions between opposing intellectual groups were now played out
mainly within the sphere of institutionalized culture. Furthermore,
the appropriation of modernist ideals and forms might have been
Vargas’ device to gain support from the São Paulo elite. This group
was his strongest political opponent, and its members attempted to
depose him in 1932.22 Yet, in spite of all internal and external ten-
sions, throughout his first and longest mandate (1930-1945), Vargas
kept a firm grip on the nation’s most critical affairs with both the
right and the left under his command: “Vargas’ keen ability to
maintain his political balance and to anticipate developments failed
him only in 1945 when he lost the support of the armed forces”
(Levine 38).
The first Vargas regime (1930-1945)23 was clearly the period in
which Brazil saw the most dramatic federal investments in the cul-
tural and educational areas.24 The record number of institutions
created to promote culture under the Vargas regime also attests to
the importance placed on the cultural segment of his administra-
tion. The state was involved in many cultural areas promoting book
publishing, radio broadcasting, cinema, and the preservation of na-
tional patrimony. Some of the most important cultural apparatuses
of the state were: Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Na-
cional (SPHAN) [National Service of the Historical and Artistic
Patrimony], Instituto Nacional do Livro (INL) [National Institute
of the Book], Serviço de Radiodifusão Educativa (SRE) [Service of
22
In reference to São Paulo’s divided loyalty between support for national in-
tegration and regional leadership, see Love, São Paulo 213-39.
23
Vargas was re-elected in 1950 and stayed in power until 1954, the year of his
death.
24
For the actual amounts invested in education and culture see Williams, Cul-
ture Wars 68. See also Schwartzman, Bomeny, and Costa 261.
Educational Radio], Instituto Nacional do Cinema Educativo

(INCE) [National Institute of Educational Cinema]. These are but
a few of the cultural institutions launched during the Vargas
regime.25 In fact, the state’s involvement in the cultural area before
Vargas had never been so extensive. The Vargas model of cultural
state apparatuses still influences government projects of cultural
promotion and control.26
As Vargas’s cultural state apparatuses became the model for fu-
ture governments, Modernism remained the state’s hallmark
throughout many years of authoritarianism. However, Modernism
as a concept within the Vargas administration assumed a much
wider and vaguer significance. Political and ideological clashes
among modernist intellectuals, which were the norm beginning in
the early 1920s, continue to be evident through the 1930s and 40s.
The conflicts that affected the group of intellectuals connected in
some way with Modernism were to be played out within the realm
of the Vargas administration’s cultural apparatuses. This aspect of
ideological conflict–the “culture wars” within the cultural appara-
tuses of the Vargas administration–is emphasized in the title of
Daryle Williams’ study.
Even in the early years, the complexity of the movement chal-
lenged efforts to establish a linear, evolutionary, or homogenized ex-
planatory narrative. Since its onset the movement represented di-
verse and often conflicting political views. Around 1925, when the
Partido Democrático (PD) [Democratic Party] was formed, the po-
litical differences among the original participants of the Week of
Modern Art became more explicit. By the late 1920s, under the
rubric of Modernism, there were at least three somewhat defined
ideological positions: On the far right, there were the intellectuals of
the Verdeamarelo group, members of the Partido Republicano
Paulista (PRP) [Republican Party of São Paulo] (Plínio Salgado,
Mennoti Del Picchia, Cassiano Ricardo). The Catholic neo-symbol-
ists of the Festa group included intellectuals of various political
25
For a list of cultural institutions created under the Vargas regime see
Williams, Culture Wars 64-65.
26
Daryle Williams points out that “All post-Estado Novo constitutions have
mandated that the state protect and promote culture, authorizing the state to main-
tain institutions of cultural management. Cultural management, virtually unknown
at the federal level before 1930, is now a fully recognized area of public policy,
thanks to the Vargas regime” (Culture Wars 89).
makeups (Tasso da Silveira, Cecília Meireles, Andrade Muricy). At

the center-left, there was a group of reformists of the Democratic
Party (Alcântara Machado, Mário de Andrade, Paulo Prado). Left-
wing modernists gathered around the Antropofagia group and later
would be affiliated with the Communist Party (Oswald de Andrade,
Raul Bopp, Tarsila do Amaral). After 1930, right-wing intellectuals
of the PRP, as well as Catholic intellectuals sympathetic to Integralis-
mo27 became politicians at the state and federal levels (Miceli 190).
Of the original group of São Paulo modernists, Oswald de Andrade
is one of the few who did not participate in the cultural projects of
Vargas administration (Williams, Culture Wars 264).
Scholars who study the relationship between the state and intel-
lectuals in Brazil during the 1930s and 40s may disagree with regard
to the moral and ideological implications of these intellectuals’ in-
volvement with a conservative state administration. Individual ex-
periences of these intellectuals with the state cultural management
were very distinct. Also, the positions they assumed were not always
at the highest echelons of the state administration. The level of
identification with the state political and ideological orientation was
greater among conservative modernists such as Menotti Del Picchia
and Cassiano Ricardo. Therefore, a “one-size-fits-all” approach to
this problem is bound to oversimplify it.
However, these scholars tend to agree that modernist intellectu-
als converged on at least one aspect: anti-Liberalism. This particu-
lar anti-liberal attitude predominated in the intellectual milieu re-
gardless of these intellectuals’ affiliations to any particular religious
organization, political party, or aesthetic faction in the 1930s.
Oliveira, Gomes, and Whately affirm that throughout most of the
publications about the “Revolution of 1930” it is common to find
statements such as: “Todos os males encontrados no corpo social
eram males do liberalismo.” [All of the maladies found in the social
body were maladies of Liberalism.] (44).28 Anti-Liberalism translat-
ed as support for an organic centralized state, with a strong govern-
27
Integralismo was a doctrine that was the closest translation to Brazil of the
Fascism. The main leader of the Integralista Party was Plínio Salgado. There are au-
thors who dispute the assertion that Integralismo was a Brazilian version of Fas-
cism. For more on this topic, see Vasconcelos, A ideologia curupira, and Calvari, In-
tegralismo.
28
In Olivera, Gomez, and Whately’s annotated bibiography, one hundred and
forty-three books published about the Revolution in the 1930s are reviewed. Accord-
ing to the authors, Anti-Liberalism is pervasive in the political discourse of the 1930s.
ment intervening in issues of “national” interest, in opposition to

the laissez-faire policy of the Liberal-Democratic state. Intellectuals
condemned the Liberal state for its absenteeism in relation to social
issues. However, each group had its own agenda for defending an
organic authoritarian state and attacked Liberalism through a com-
bination of political, moral, and ideological justifications. The right-
wing group with fascist inclinations (members of the Verdeamarelo
group who converted to Integralismo) blamed Liberalism for the
collapse of the oligarchic system, though their argument revolved
around moral issues. According to Oliveira, there were two major
justifications for the condemnation of Liberalism. The first was a
general attack on the liberal ideology: “Os princípios do liberalismo
são falsos, porque eles não correspondem à natureza dos fatos”
[The principles of Liberalism are false, because they do not corre-
spond to the nature of facts.] The second involved those who saw
limitations of the applicability of liberalism in Brazil only: “Os
princípios do liberalismo não são aplicáveis ao Brasil.” [The princi-
ples of Liberalism are not applicable to Brazil.] (Oliveira, Gomes,
and Whately 44).
Plínio Salgado, leader of the openly fascist Integralista Party,
condemned both Liberalism and Socialism for being “materialist”
doctrines. In his view these ideologies promoted the weakening of
the moral values that sustain a community. He advocated a “spiritu-
alist conception of life” in which religion would furnish values that
strengthened solidarity among people and the meaning of nation
and family, synthesized in his motto: “God, Nation, Family” (Salga-
do 15-32). Similar views characterized the equally conservative
group of Catholic intellectuals. Alceu Amoroso Lima, their leader,
argued in his Indicações políticas [Political Indications] that Brazil
was essentially a Catholic country, celebrating the incorporation of
the Catholic political program into the 1934 Constitution. In regard
to the position of the Catholics vis-à-vis the doctrine of Integralis-
mo, Lima argued that Catholics and Integralistas had a common
enemy, Communism, and common friends, “God, Nation and Fam-
ily.” Thus, for Lima, the Integralista party was the only one that
suited the Catholics at that time (“Catolicismo e Integralismo” 194-
98). Consequently, Lima opposed Liberalism as a political option
for Catholics, allegedly because of its “materialist” basis. However,
as previously mentioned, the Catholic Church had more at stake
than a mere philosophical issue with Liberalism. For Lima’s nation-
al project the values of Liberalism were particularly detrimental in

their defense of civil liberties, including tolerance for religious di-
versity, which presupposes a democratic and secular state. Thus, in
a Liberal state, the Catholic Church’s political role is severely hand-
icapped. Therefore, Lima’s anti-bourgeois rhetoric must be tied to
his defense of a hierarchically-structured and authoritarian state, in-
distinguishable from the models proposed by other openly fascist
political groups such as the Integralistas.
On the other end of the political spectrum, leftist intellectuals
who identified with Communism or Socialism also disapproved of
classical Liberalism. For them, the Liberal state was inadequate, es-
pecially in a country like Brazil where most of the wealth was in the
hands of the rural oligarchies. In the first decades of the twentieth
century the liberal state in Brazil was based on the Política dos
Governadores,29 which concentrated economic and political power
in the hands of the wealthiest oligarchic groups of the states of São
Paulo and Minas Gerais, thus weakening national integration. The
system did not create mechanisms of wealth distribution, egalitarian
access to education or health care, and other basic rights for the
proletariat. Leftist intellectuals also believed that the state should
control all of these areas. Hence, their concept of nation-state also
presupposed a centralized system with a strong and hierarchical
state administration.
Anti-Liberalism appears to be a common denominator in terms
of the political and ideological make-up of the intellectuals who, in
one way or another, served in the public administration at that time.
But this aspect alone does not explain, nor does it translate as polit-
ical support for the Vargas administration. Daniel Pécaut does not
accept Sérgio Miceli’s implications that the modernists’ involve-
ment with the state was prompted simply by the economic decline
of the oligarchic families from which modernist intellectuals come,
or by personal interests (Pécaut 19-20). There were many other as-
pects that favored such involvement, which Pécaut interprets as
more relevant than economic or financial motivations. In general,
however, broader issues of power are cited by these scholars as
29
The Política dos Governadores [The Politics of the Governors] was an
agreement between the oligarchic elite of the states of Minas Gerais and São Paulo,
which determined that the country’s presidents were to be chosen alternately from
among the leaders of these two states.
what attracted intellectuals to the state bureaucracy in the 1930s

and 40s:
Muitos simpatizam com os diversos movimentos autoritários sur-

gidos após 1930, ou mais tarde aderem ao Estado Novo instaura-
do em 1937. Outros mantêm-se distantes dessa questão. Em sua
grande maioria, contudo, mostram-se de acordo quanto à rejei-
ção da democracia representativa e ao fortalecimento das fun-
ções do Estado. Acatam também a prioridade do imperativo na-
cional e aderem, explicitamente ou não, a uma visão hierárquica
da ordem social. Assim, apesar de suas discordâncias, convergem
na reivindicação de um status de elite dirigente, em defesa da
idéia de que não há outro caminho para o progresso senão o que
consiste em agir “de cima” e “dar forma” à sociedade. (15)
(Emphasis in the original)
Many sympathized with the various authoritarian movements

that appeared after 1930, or later adhered to the Estado Novo
launched in 1937. Others kept themselves away from these is-
sues. The majority, however, agreed with respect to their rejec-
tion of liberal democracy and supported the strengthening of the
functions of the State. They also accepted the priority of the na-
tional imperative and adhered, explicitly or not, to a hierarchical
view of the social order. Thus, in spite of their disagreements,
they converged in reclaiming their status as the leading elite, in
defense of the idea that there was no other path for progress
other than acting “from above” and to “give form” to society.
In general, Pécaut’s analysis presents a much less condemnatory

tone than that of Miceli, even though these scholars study the
same historical period and the same processes. In this key passage
Pécaut concedes that most modernists subscribed to an elitist and
hierarchical view of society. The author puts emphasis on the
sense of class consciousness of these intellectuals, which, in his as-
sessment, gives them a sense of entitlement to exert positions of
leadership in the administration. Vargas’ programs provided the
opportunity to assert their natural leadership. Pécaut also sees an-
other type of agreement among these intellectuals: They believed
in the idea of a strong and centralized state and that it is the gov-
ernment’s responsibility, with the guidance of the elites, to pro-
vide a path to progress.
In spite of all the controversy with regard to the issue of co-op-
tion of intellectuals during the Vargas administration, scholars tend

to agree that the “national imperative” displaced liberal democracy.
This alignment against Liberalism in the 1930s partly explains the
long-lasting collaboration of intellectuals from a wide range of ideo-
logical positions in the Vargas cultural apparatuses. Leftist intellec-
tuals either conformed to or were repressed by the authoritarian
state.30 While the state assumed responsibility for cultural promo-
tion, it also created mechanisms of repression and censorship. The
coercive actions of the state became more frequent after the coup
of 1937 and the establishment of the Estado Novo. The task of cen-
sorship was carried out by two institutions operating under the su-
pervision of the Ministério da Justiça e Negócios Interiores [Min-
istry of Justice and Interior Affairs] and the Departamento de
Imprensa e Propaganda (DIP) [Department of the Press and Pro-
paganda], later incorporated to the Departmento Nacional de In-
formações (DNI) [National Department of Information], and the
Tribunal de Segurança Nacional (TSN) [National Security Tri-
bunal].
State repression became fiercer with the establishment of the
TSN in 1936, the organ responsible for the incarceration of leftist
writers such as Jorge Amado, first jailed in 1935 and then several
times later. Also in 1936, the Minister of Justice, Vicente Rao, creat-
ed the Comissão Nacional para a Repressão do Comunismo [Na-
tional Comission for the Repression of Communism], which was “a
ten men watchdog committee for the defense of national culture
against bolshevism” (Levine 146). This committee was composed,
among others, of Alceu Amoroso Lima, Raul Leitão da Cunha,
Afonso Arinos de Melo Franco, and Vargas’ daughter, Carolina
Nabucco (Levine 147). It had powers to impose “censura prévia”
[prior censorship] to any publication, which means that a book that
was considered subversive could be censored before it reached the
market. This policy led to the arrest of Graciliano Ramos in March
1936 and subsequently of Rachel de Queiroz and Eneida de Morais
30
With regard to the argument that modernist intellectuals complied with the
state, see Santiago, “Fechado para balanço” 79-80. The author argues that their par-
ticipation in the nation-building projects of the state ultimately represents a certain
degree of political compromise. However, it is necessary to emphasize that left-wing
intellectuals were not given high-level administrative positions. After the implemen-
tation of the Estado Novo there was not much space for dissenting voices within or
outside of the state.
(Hallewell 272; Levine 137).31 If it is true that Gustavo Capanema

created a somewhat safe haven for leftist intellectuals, the ideologies
of Communism and Socialism were always vehemently combated
(Levine 138-58). By the same token, when the extreme right Inte-
gralista party threatened to overthrow the regime in 1937, it was
outlawed and its leader, Plínio Salgado, was exiled to Portugal
(Levine 159-67).
However, the integralistas and the members of the “Catholic re-
action” managed to gain a greater number of positions within the
state bureaucracy. Catholic intellectuals were prominent among
those incorporated into political and cultural sectors (Miceli 51; Pé-
caut 80). These intellectuals were associated with such institutions
as Centro Dom Vital, Ação Católica Universitária, and the periodical
A Ordem, all of which were lay branches of the Catholic Church led
by Alceu Amoroso Lima. The Catholic intellectuals who were co-
opted by the state operated as spokespeople on behalf of these in-
stitutions, lobbying the government especially on issues related to
the educational area, whose private section was already dominated
by the Church. The Catholics were pressing, among other things,
for the obligatory teaching of religion in both private and public
sectors.32 Although Gustavo Capanema’s actions in the educational
arena were informed by a dialogue with both the right and the left,
his strong connections with Catholicism were evident throughout
his mandate (Williams, “Capanema, Ministro da Cultura” 261).
While the Catholic agents did not manage to impose their ideas
as the dominant set of principles to be followed by the state as a
whole, they certainly succeeded in having their most fundamental
interests in the educational sector sanctioned by the state. The ac-
tions of Alceu Amoroso Lima, the leading lay Catholic spokesper-
son and one of the main advisors to the Minister of Education,
were decisive (Tempos de Capanema 49; Williams, Culture Wars 79).
31
Levine argues that many other intellectuals were attacked as subversive,
among them: Gilberto Freyre, Jorge Amado, artist Cândido Portinari, architect Os-
car Niemeyer, dramatist Joracy Camargo, musician Elazar de Carvalho, and André
Carrazoni, Vargas’ own biographer. Many of these attacks were based solely on fear
and distrust (Levine 137).
32
For an analysis of role of the Catholic Church in the educational system dur-
ing the Vargas regime, see Tempos de Capanema 255-66. For a detailed account of
the Catholic Church’s institutional expansion in the educational and political
spheres from 1890 to 1930, see Miceli, A elite eclesiástica.
The correspondence between Lima and Capanema shows that the

Catholic leader was consulted and had his opinions accepted by the
Minister on every major decision regarding educational reforms
(Tempos de Capanema 291-343). The reforms in the institutions of
higher education are key components of the administration’s na-
tion-building project, and the canonization of Modernism is direct-
ly related to this process. Capanema started the project for a cen-
tralized university system in the late 1930s. However, the model for
the new university system had been established earlier, with the
founding of the Universidade de São Paulo. As I will demonstrate
next, modernist intellectuals are directly involved in this project.
EDUCATIONAL REFORMS: THE PROJECT FOR A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY

SYSTEM
Against a complex political background, this period witnessed

two major developments outside the scope federal cultural policies
that helped transform the cultural and educational spheres. First,
the founding of the Universidade de São Paulo (USP) in 193233 pro-
vided a model for an integrated university system, which would in-
fluence Capanema’s university project at the federal level (Tempos
de Capanema 207). Second, a remarkable expansion of the publish-
ing industry opened up new possibilities for modernist writers
(Hallewell 243; Miceli, Intelectuais 75). Both occurrences also con-
tributed to the development of more diverse and specialized intel-
lectual personnel. More closely connected to the “democratizing
project” of dissemination of modernist texts through the education-
al system and the process of canonization of Modernism were the
educational reforms implemented at the time. I will focus on the re-
forms in the university system because this was the terrain in which
the metanarrative of modernism would be consolidated.
The Universidade de São Paulo’s Faculdade de Filosofia, Ciên-
cias e Letras was the “cornerstone of the new university and the
thing that made it unique among Brazilian universities at the time”
33
On the expansion of the publishing industry in the 1930s, see Miceli, Intelec-
tuais 69-128. See also, Hallewell chapter xvi. In reference to the Universidade de
São Paulo’s foundation, see O’Neil 56-68 and Schwartzman, Bomeny, and Costa,
Tempos de Capanema 207.
(O’Neil 60). The other existing Brazilian universities, The Universi-

dade de Rio de Janeiro (founded in 1920), and The Universidade
de Minas Gerais (founded in 1927), were formed by isolated facul-
ties and unified later by decree. According to Charles O’Neil, USP
was created by São Paulo’s elites as a reaction to an economic fact
(i. e. industrialization) which threatened the hegemony of the tradi-
tional elites. In terms of educational goals, the author of the project,
Fernando de Azevedo (author of the Manifesto dos Pioneiros da Ed-
ucação Nova) [Manifest of the Pioneers of the New Education],
pushed for the implementation of a democratic institution that
would provide equal opportunities and a training ground for all cit-
izens in an industrialized society (O’Neil 60). Antonio Candido nar-
rates from personal experience how Azevedo’s project for educa-
tion had a great impact on elementary and middle-level education
in Brazil by introducing a new pedagogy that focused on learning
from experience instead of simply accepting dogmas (“A revolução
de 30 e a cultura” 19). The author remembers that the first time he
had contact with the literature of the modernists was through a
textbook, Antologia da língua portuguesa (1933) [Anthology of the
Portuguese Language] by Estevão Cruz, which included, for the first
time, texts by modernist authors (Alceu Amoroso Lima, Agripino
Grieco, Graça Aranha, Mário de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira, and
Jorge de Lima). According to Candido, it was through this text-
book that the avant-garde theories of the modernists were proposed
to teachers and students at the middle-school level (22-25).
Vargas was not as interested in Azevedo’s project for lower level
education as he was in their project for the reform of the university
system (O’Neil 62). Vargas supported the university project, al-
though he was not “in complete accord with the reformers. . . . he
was no radical egalitarian who wanted to level Brazilian society by
education” (61). Even though USP’s creation was an initiative of
São Paulo’s elite (Fernando Azevedo, Julio Mesquita Filho, and Ar-
mando Salles Oliveira), Vargas intended to promote similar reforms
in the higher education system. Originally, the Faculdade de
Filosofia, Ciências e Letras was designed to be the core of the uni-
versity where students from other areas would take basic courses in
liberal arts. This first project was rejected, and the Faculdade de
Filosofia became an autonomous faculty whose primary functions
were research and teacher education (63). According to O’Neil, the
research to be done at the Faculdade de Filosofia was assumed to
be “disinterested,” that is, this research was not supposed to be di-

rected at one particular goal (63-4). Vargas was particularly interest-
ed in implementing teacher training programs for the purpose of
the expansion of the secondary education system. The research and
teaching of the social sciences were encouraged in the early years of
Vargas’ Aliança Liberal [Liberal Alliance] (1930-36), but during the
Estado Novo (1937-45) the social sciences were almost banned
from both secondary school and universities. O’Neil explains that,
during the dictatorship, the state “could not become the subject of
research and criticism” (66). The Faculdade de Filosofia was one of
the most innovative and successful projects of the new university
and thus became a model for other universities at the federal level.
Gustavo Capanema’s project for a federal counterpart to the
Universidade de São Paulo was the Universidade do Brasil [Univer-
sity of Brazil]. This institution was to be developed from the exist-
ing Universidade do Distrito Federal (UDF) [University of the Fed-
eral District] in Rio de Janeiro. Capanema also placed emphasis on
the Faculdade Nacional de Filosofia [National College of the Hu-
manities], which would comprise all of the humanities. As stated
before, this unit was modeled after USP’s Faculdade de Filosofia.
According to Schwartzman, Bomeny and Costa, the Faculdade Na-
cional de Filosofia was intended to be under federal tutelage but al-
so under ideological control of the Catholic Church (214). Alceu
Amoroso Lima was invited by the Minister to be Professor of Liter-
ature and Director of UDF’s Faculdade Nacional de Filosofia in
1939, which was at the time the cornerstone of the new university
system. He stayed in this position from 1939 to 1941, when he re-
signed, citing his lack of administrative capacity, lack of enthusiasm
for the project, and many ideological disagreements with other pro-
fessors and staff members.34 At the time Lima was already involved
with the project of the Universidade Católica.
The Church had already given up ideological control of the
public university, preferring instead to focus on its own university
project (Tempos de Capanema 218). These internal conflicts and
many other administrative difficulties prevented this project from
being as successful as the Faculdade de Filosofia of the Universidade
de São Paulo.35 However, until 1939, the Universidade do Distrito
34
For a transcript of the entire letter that Lima sent to Capanema, see Tempos
de Capanema 341-43.
Federal was considered a center of excellence in the humanities.

There was a massive presence of modernist intellectuals and artists
working as professors and chairs of their disciplines. Among them
were Mário de Andrade, Heitor Villa-Lobos, Sérgio Buarque de
Hollanda, Prudente de Morais Neto, Afonso Arinos de Melo Fran-
co, Cândido Portinari, Alceu Amoroso Lima, and many others
(Tempos de Capanema 212). The sheer presence of modernist intel-
lectuals and artists in the public university system shows that this
sector was one of the preferred sites for their participation in the
cultural projects of the administration in the 1930s. The presence of
modernists as educators at institutions of higher education is an im-
portant factor for the manner by which Modernism became assimi-
lated and disseminated in the educational system. This is not to say,
however, that their mere presence in the educational system was
alone a determining factor in this process of canonization. Also, I
am not trying to say that these intellectuals imposed their own
views of Modernism or that they all agreed on a definition of Mod-
ernism. This is a simple observation that the process of canoniza-
tion of Modernism starts in this historical context and this particu-
lar configuration. The process starts at a time when the presence of
modernist intellectuals in the educational system was significant.
The first efforts to provide a historical overview of Modernism and
to construct a narrative of legitimation start to appear in the late
1930s and early 1940s. In the following section, I will focus on
some of the earliest examples of narratives that provide structuring
elements for the canonization of Modernism in literature.
EARLY EFFORTS TO CANONIZE MODERNIST LITERATURE
Any attempt to historicize Brazilian Modernism must take into

account that the some of the earliest historical overviews of this cul-
tural phenomenon were conceptualized by some of the founding
members of the modernist movement. In the process of the canon-
ization of Modernism and the constitution of a metanarrative, some
of the first studies to provide broad historical interpretations of the
modernist movement to be published and to enter the educational
35
For more details on the failed project of the Universidade do Brasil, see
chapter seven of Tempos de Capanema 205-29.
system were published by authors directly linked with the mod-

ernist movement in the 1920s: Mário de Andrade’s O movimento
modernista (1942) and Alceu Amoroso Lima’s Contribuição ao
história do modernismo: O premodernismo (1939) [Contribution to
the History of Modernism: The Premodernism] appear during the
Estado Novo. Sérgio Milliet also contributed one of the first
overviews of early modernist poetry with his Panorama da moderna
poesia brasileira, [Panorama of Modern Brazilian Poetry] published
in 1952 by the Ministry of Education Press. Mário de Andrade was
the most important member of the early modernist movement,
while Alceu Amoroso Lima was considered to be the most authori-
tative critic and historian at the time. He was named “Crítico do
Modernismo” [The Critic of Modernism]. This title was assigned to
him because he was the first critic to be receptive to the modernists’
early output.36 Sérgio Milliet was a poet, literary critic, translator
and cultural administrator. He participated in the Week of Modern
Art of 1922. Later, in 1935, he joined Mário de Andrade, Paulo
Duarte, and Rubens Borba de Morais as one of the top administra-
tors of the Departamento de Cultura de São Paulo [Department of
Culture of São Paulo] (Duarte 2).
Another important poet of the modernist movement, Manuel
Bandeira, also contributed to this process by compiling the poetry
of Modernism in the volume Apresentação da poesia brasileira, first
published in 1944. Alceu Amoroso Lima’s series of Estudos, three
volumes that contain the reviews he wrote about the modernists
during the 1920s and 30s, start to appear in the early 1940s. All of
these publications offer, in distinct ways, elements that contributed
for the canonization of the modernist literature. These efforts to or-
ganize and categorize the modernist literature are evidence that the
process of canonization of Modernism started very early, while most
modernist authors and artists were still alive and active.
Bandeira’s anthology represents one of the earliest efforts to se-
lect, evaluate, and catalogue the main authors and the most repre-
sentative poetry of Modernism. In fact, Bandeira had been asked by
Minister Capanema to organize several of these anthologies. Since
1936, Bandeira had been involved with this project. In his autobi-
36
Wilson Martins argues that Tristão de Athayde’s sympathy for the modernist
movement and criticism in O Jornal were fundamental to the promotion of Mod-
ernism for posterity. See “A crítica modernista” 494.
ography, Bandeira talks about how difficult it is to organize such

collections, especially when one’s friends are the poets whose work
is being anthologized:
Desde então principiei a sentir como é difícil organizar qualquer

espécie de antologia. Já organizei seis: todas seis me deixaram in-
satisfeito, por todas recebi críticas nem sempre justas. E, o que é
pior, magoei involuntariamente a muitos amigos. O culpado das
minhas atividades antologísticas foi Gustavo Capanema, encarre-
gando-me em 1936 . . . uma antologia dos nossos poetas românti-
cos. Queria o grande ministro, que tão generoso impulso deu en-
tre nós às artes (a ele deve muito a glória de um Portinari, de um
Niemeyer), queria que eu resumisse em cinco antologias a me-
lhor poesia do Brasil. (Itinerário de pasárgada 105)
Since then I began to feel how difficult it is to organize any kind

of anthology. I have already organized six: all of them left me un-
satisfied; for all I have received criticism not always fair. And,
what is worse, I involuntarily hurt many friends. The culprit for
my “anthologistic” activities was Gustavo Capanema, who in
1936 put me in charge of . . . an anthology of our Romantic poets.
The great Minister, who gave such great support among us for
the arts (to him owes the glory of Portinari and Niemeyer), want-
ed me to condense in five anthologies the best of the poetry in
Brazil.
Bandeira emphasizes the role of Minister Capanema as a cultural

promoter and the man who had the idea for the anthologies project
that Bandeira carried out. The fact that the Minister selects Ban-
deira as the main authority on poetry and the history of poetry in
Brazil confirms at least three aspects related to the canonization of
Modernism. First, the fact that a modernist poet became the main
authority in the history of poetry (and Bandeira affirms that only
two other modernists could do the job: Sérgio Buarque de Holanda
and Andrade Muricy) is a sign that literary criticism was not sepa-
rated from literature itself. That is, the process of rationalization
and separation of the spheres of knowledge was still in its early
stages. Second, the fact that this was an initiative that came from
the Minister is evidence that the state had a vested interest not only
in the canonization of Modernism but also in the restructuring of
the canon through the modernist’s perspective, through their ex-
pertise. Third, the fact that Bandeira anthologizes the poetry of his
own modernist colleagues is evidence that the process started early,

and thus many modernists became living legends.
Another important aspect of Bandeira’s anthology project, as
the author describes it, has to do with the method and the nature of
the project. As far as historiography is concerned, anthologies rep-
resent the most basic; they are the least elaborated in terms of con-
ceptualization. Bandeira explains that he selected the texts and pro-
vided a preface to describe the criterion adopted. In his humorous
account of this process Bandeira affirms that the problem is that
nobody reads these prefaces and most of his fellow poets com-
plained about his selection. Bandeira did not want to take on the
project of anthologizing the poetry of the modernist period because
he knew it would cause conflict: “o modernismo era cumbuca onde
eu . . . não me atrevia a meter, já não digo a mão, mas nem sequer a
falange do dedo mindinho” (106) [Modernism was a pot where I . . .
would not dare to stick, I would not say my hand, but not even the
tip of my pinky.] That is, even a project that purports to catalog, in
a simple chronological fashion, samples of poetry of each period in-
volves a measure of conceptualization. Bandeira’s project had two
parts. The first was the “presentation,” which is a brief summary of
how the poets and their respective styles are connected historically,
and the second is the anthology per se, in which Bandeira briefly
comments on each selected poem. There is no intent in creating a
complex narrative in this project, but it is still possible to see a nar-
rative thread connecting the poetic production of hundreds of
years.
Hayden White, when describing the early stages of the work of
historians, calls attention to the fact that creation and historical “in-
vention” are exerted even in the most elementary of the tasks. In
the earliest stages of the process, historians chronicle the “primi-
tive” elements of a historical narrative through simple entries in the
annals, which include the most important events in a given year.
These entries will later be used in the next stage, which is the “em-
plotment:” the establishment of a story that will eventually suffer
further conceptualization to form a historical narrative. White
demonstrates that this simple accumulation of data in the annals al-
ready involves arbitration and it obscures the extent of “invention”
that already takes place in the earliest stages of historical construc-
tion (Metahistory 4-7). Similar to the chronicling of events de-
scribed by White, Bandeira’s anthology of modernist poets is as
self-effacing as he could conceptualize it, as he excludes himself

and tries to include all of his fellow modernists. Yet this simple or-
ganization of texts already denotes an assertion of authority, an im-
position of a judgment of taste, arbitration and exclusions. The fi-
nal result is a selection of the most representative poetry with which
his friends, who also considered themselves authorities, did not
agree.
A more elaborate project, which involved analysis of the mod-
ernist poetry, was Sérgio Milliet’s Panorama. This is also a selection
of modernist poetry organized in chronological order, but it sug-
gests a hierarchy of the value of each poet’s contribution. It does
not concern itself with historicizing the movement as a whole but
rather with analyzing the formal aspects of one of its genres. How-
ever, since the compilation of texts attempts to give the reader a
panoramic view of modernist poetry, it serves some of the purposes
of historiography. Milliet’s analysis privileges notions of freedom of
poetic expression, thematic originality, and other innovations he
claims were brought about by the modernists. Milliet himself was a
modernist poet and artist who participated in the 1922 Week of
Modern Art. His book was published by the printing press of the
Ministério da Educação e Saúde. His project starts with the poetry of
Mário de Andrade as the most representative of the modernist peri-
od and then moves on to other authors who were less central to the
modernist aesthetic projects. Milliet also excludes himself as a poet.
Despite these authors’ effort to hide their connections to the mod-
ernist movement and to omit the contributions that they had made
to the modernist poetry, all of these projects affirm the authority of
these modernists as critics, as arbiters of the work of their own gen-
eration.
Alceu Amoroso Lima’s Contribuição does not analyze the mod-
ernist literature per se, but suggests one of the categories that came
to be widely adopted by future historians. The title to this collec-
tion includes the term “premodernismo,” which would become a
lasting category in Brazilian literary historiography. This book in-
cludes several reviews Lima wrote about authors and works pub-
lished during the Belle Époque. The term premodernismo defines a
group of writers not by a reference to their own time, but to what
they, in the critic’s view, anticipate: Modernism. In this operation,
the Belle Époque writers are judged against a set of principles and a
criterion is developed later. Once again, Modernism is the gold
standard, and all other literary manifestations must be weighed

against it.37 These authors are appropriated in the discourse of
modernist criticism in an ambiguous way. On the one hand, some
of these authors and works are said to anticipate some of the fea-
tures of Modernism. For example, the work of Lima Barreto is
praised for its nationalism and concern with social and political
problems (16-20). On the other hand, some of these authors and
their work are seen as unfulfilled writers who could not move be-
yond the mentality of their time. For instance, João do Rio’s work is
attacked for being too superficial and amoral (126-36). In sum,
Modernism is already anticipated as the historical fulfillment of the
national imperative, while the Belle Époque appears as a transitional
period that, in the best cases, foregrounds some of the important
changes in literature, but also as a literary output that cannot fully
carry out these changes.
The most important fact to consider with regard to the early
signs of the canonization of the literature of Modernism is that
modernist intellectuals (Mário de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira, Sér-
gio Milliet) or intellectuals identified with the modernist movement
(Alceu Amoroso Lima) were in the positions of arbiters. These
modernists were self-taught literary critics with their authority in
the area of literary criticism established through years of contribu-
tion in newspapers and magazines. Their authority in literary and
artistic matters also came from their previous involvement with the
modernist movement. In other words, these were not literary critics
formed by the new university system, but some of them occupied
positions in educational institutions or in the cultural apparatus of
the state. The fact that the canonization of Modernism is set in mo-
tion in this context and that the highest authorities in the area of lit-
erary criticism and historiography were the original members of the
modernist movement is further evidence of the self-legitimizing
character of this process.38
This is not to say that this heterogeneous group of experts, con-
37
In “Brazilian Modernism: The Canonised Revolution,” Beatriz Resende
points out that “Modernism was dominant until the end of the 1970s”(205) in
Brazilian culture. The author also questions the references to Modernism that are
imbedded in terms such as Pre-Modernism and Post-Modernism, which are re-
marks with which I agree and that I have been exploring here.
38
This observation is not meant disqualify the work of criticism and historiog-
raphy done by these intellectuals in this early phase of canonization. It is just an as-
nected in some capacity with the earliest manifestations of the mod-

ernist movement, shared similar opinions about the meaning of
Modernism. Their views were very different, and these early contri-
butions do not form a cohesive body of historiography. Further-
more, the critical assessment of Modernism in this early moment in
the process of canonization is not always as positive as the stan-
dardized version of the movement that appeared in most of the his-
toriography of the 1950s. For instance, in Mário de Andrade’s “O
movimento modernista,” there are moments in which the author
criticizes both his fellow modernists and his own attitude. The gen-
eral tone, especially in the concluding remarks to this speech, is
somber:
E eu que sempre me pensei . . . sadiamente banhado de amor hu-

mano, chego no declínio da vida à convicção de que faltou hu-
manidade em mim. Meu aristocracismo me puniu. Minhas in-
tenções me enganaram. Vítima do meu individualismo, procuro
em vão nas minhas obras, e também nas de muitos compan-
heiros, uma paixão mais temporânea, uma dôr mais viril da vida.
Não tem. . . . E outra coisa sinão [sic] o respeito que tenho pelo
destino dos mais novos se fazendo, não me levaria a essa confis-
são bastante cruel, de perceber em quase toda a minha obra a in-
suficiência do abstencionismo. (73-74)
And I who always considered myself . . . healthily immersed in hu-

man love, reach the decline of my life with the conviction that I
lacked humanity. My aristocratic views punished me. My inten-
tions deceived me. Victim of my individualism, I vainly seek in
my [literary] works, and also in the works of many of my col-
leagues, a precocious passion, a more virile pain. There are none.
... And if it was not for the respect I have for the destiny of the
younger generation, I would not make this rather cruel confes-
pect that needs to be taken into consideration when analyzing the canonization of
Modernism, especially in literature. These first studies and attempts at a historical
overview tend to be favorable toward the notion of Modernism as a revolutionary
movement, but they do not display the overtly enthusiastic tone of the subsequent
historiography. However, it is significant that writers like Mário de Andrade, Sérgio
Milliet and Manuel Bandeira were linked by close friendship ties and admired each
other’s work. See Correspondência: Mário de Andrade & Manuel Bandeira. Alceu
Amoroso Lima was not part of this group, but he also knew these intellectuals per-
sonally and had always had a positive attitude toward the movement. See Mário es-
creve cartas a Alceu, Augusto Meyer e outros, edited by Lygia Fernandes.
sion, of acknowledging that almost all of my work has suffered

from the insufficiency of abstentionism.
The passage is a sad admission of defeat for Andrade, who eerily

announces the decline of his own life.39 This fragment articulates at
once an admission of guilt, an apology, an attack on other mod-
ernists, and an act of contrition. The author admits several flaws in
his work and his conduct, but he ultimately preserves a sense of de-
cency by addressing the younger generation, by making these
painful public confessions on their behalf. Andrade still positions
himself as a dignified intellectual leader, even if by (or precisely by)
attacking his own reputation. He appeals to the audience through
this apparent humility with the sincerity of his remarks. Andrade
condemns his own individualism and his aristocratic posture in or-
der to defend the values of collective participation. He ends the en-
tire speech by urging the audience (his followers) to “march with
the masses” (81). Thus, he comes across as an intellectual who
learned from the mistakes of the past, a man transformed by experi-
ence. Even though there is a self-defensive mechanism built in this
speech, this is nonetheless a very self-critical pronouncement, with
a bitterness that distinguishes it from other of his writings about
Modernism. For instance, in “Modernismo,” an article that appears
in O empalhador de passarinho, Andrade asserts the positive aspects
of Modernism with much more optimism and confidence (189-93).
This fragment of Andrade’s speech is obviously not what is cit-
ed in most of the criticism and historiography. The most oft-cited
passage of Andrade’s “O movimento modernista” is the following:
“O que caracteriza esta realidade que o movimento modernista im-
pôs, é, a meu ver, a fusão de três princípios fundamentais: O direito
permanente à pesquisa estética; a atualização da inteligência artísti-
ca brasileira; e a estabilização de uma consciência criadora na-
cional” (45). [What characterizes this reality that the modernist
movement imposed, is, in my view, the fusion of three fundamental
principles: The permanent right to aesthetic research; the updating
of the Brazilian artistic intelligence; and the stabilization of a cre-
39
Mário de Andrade had been sick very often in the 1940s. As Paulo Duarte
argues, Mário de Andrade had been disillusioned with his life and with the way
things were going in the intellectual arena since 1937. Duarte describes this process
as a “public act of suicide.” See Duarte 3.
ative national consciousness.] In this particular fragment Andrade

provides the platform for a metanarrative of emancipation. Mod-
ernism had its flaws and shortcomings, but these are the gains that
the movement imposed on the intellectual milieu in Brazil. This
passage is often repeated but rarely explained. It is implied in
Mário de Andrade’s three principles that the Brazilian intelligentsia
acquired a new status after Modernism. After the battles of the
modernist movement, according to the author, the intellectual are-
na acquired a stabilized national consciousness. Indeed, these are
not modest gains and this is not a modest statement.
Mário de Andrade’s 1942 lecture, “O movimento modernista”
still represents one of the richest accounts available of this period.
Though it is a personal account, it contains more background infor-
mation about the making of the modernist movement in its early
years than most studies published thereafter. It is also a very com-
plex text that brings together fond memories of the author’s youth
along with the bitterness of that particular moment. Mário both at-
tacks and defends Modernism throughout the text. The author puts
himself in the most vulnerable positions he ever assumed publicly,
but he also makes sure to protect his reputation as an intellectual. It
is a speech for posterity in which the author positions himself as a
founding father, as an intellectual leader of high stature, despite his
limitations and flaws. Mário attains credibility by including a gener-
ous amount of self-criticism and criticism directed at fellow mod-
ernists. It is not just a guilt-ridden, negative portrait of an era. It is
ambivalent and causes discomfort because it problematizes some of
the most conflictive aspects of the modernist project without reduc-
ing it to an unambiguous narrative of triumph.
In the process of canonization of Modernism, the ambiguous,
self-critical, and harsh aspects of Mário de Andrade’s account will
be effaced. It is fascinating to see, for example, the reaction to
Mário’s speech that came from Alceu Amoroso Lima, who rejected
the negative aspects of Mário’s arguments. In an interview, many
years after the publication of O movimento, Lima made the follow-
ing comments:
A revisão crítica do modernismo começou a ser feita por Mário

de Andrade por ocasião da conferência por ele pronunciada no
Itamarati, em 1942, verdadeira bomba de retardamento. Aí de-
clarou que o modernismo foi um movimento aristocrático. Te-
nho contudo a impressão de que Mário de Andrade não foi fiel

em sua revisão. (Memórias improvisadas 74).
The critical review of Modernism started to be done by Mário de

Andrade on the occasion of the presentation he gave at Itama-
rati, in 1942, [it] was a real bomb [with a delay mechanism]. In
[this speech] he declared that Modernism was an aristocratic
movement. I have the impression that Mário de Andrade was
not faithful in his review.
Lima’s word choice here speaks of a process that he does not name
but that is adversely affected by Mário de Andrade’s pronounce-
ment. Lima describes Andrade’s speech as a discourse that slowed
down an ongoing process of canonization of Modernism. Lima is
referring to the critical review of Modernism as a whole, but he is
concerned with the negative impact that accounts like these could
have in process of canonization of Modernism. Mário de Andrade’s
speech was harmful especially because it came from one of the lead-
ing voices of the modernist era. Another strange choice of words
appears when Lima argues that Mário “was not faithful” in his as-
sessment of Modernism. That is, he thought that Mário mischarac-
terized the spirit of the movement by emphasizing the aristocratic
connections of early years. Lima implied that there was an idea, a
script to which Mário should have remained faithful.
It is important to return to Alceu Amoroso Lima to understand
part of the process of canonization of Modernism. With regard to
literary historiography, the name of Alceu Amoroso Lima looms
large in Brazil during the entire modernist era. Lima was the first
literary critic to display a receptive attitude toward the first mod-
ernist manifestations. Under the pseudonym Tristão de Athayde, he
was in charge of literary reviews in O Jornal since 1919. Lima later
abandoned criticism around 1928 to serve as a Catholic leader of
the Ação Católica and to be the editor of its periodical, A ordem. Li-
ma also worked for the Vargas administration in various capacities,
most importantly as member of the Conselho Nacional de Edu-
cação and as Capanema’s main advisor. In the early 1940s his ser-
vices as a literary critic were requested by the Director of the
Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico Nacional, Rodrigo de Melo Fran-
co de Andrade, to compose a blueprint for a major project of liter-
ary history.
O trabalho do Sr. Alceu Amoroso Lima intitulado Introdução à

literatura brasileira tem uma importância exepcional, que corres-
ponde... à posição destacada do autor como o crítico mais auto-
rizado da produção literária no Brasil durante os últimos vinte
anos... Afastado, depois, do exercício dessa missão quase de ár-
bitro da produção literária no Brasil, para se entregar... à obra de
defesa e de propagação dos princípios... da Igreja Católica em
nosso país.... Como se depreende do próprio sumário, o objetivo
do Sr. Alceu Amoroso Lima foi indicar ao [eventual] historiador
as trianguladas de primeira, segunda e terceira ordem que o ha-
bilitem a fazer o levantamento mais exato e completo possível do
campo da literatura brasileira. (9, 11) (Emphasis added).
The work of Mr. Alceu Amoroso Lima titled Introdução a lite-

ratura brasileira is of exceptional importance, which corresponds
to... the distinguished position of this author as the most author-
itative critic of the literary production in Brazil through the last
twenty years.... Later he distanced himself from the exercise of
this mission of almost referee of the literary production in Brazil,
to devote himself... to the work of propagation and defense... of
the principles of the Catholic Church in our country.... As it is
understood from its [the book’s] own summary, Mr. Alceu
Amoroso Lima’s objective was to indicate to the [prospective]
historian the triangulations of first, second, and third order that
will enable him [a literary historian] to perform the best and
most exact assessment possible in the area of Brazilian literature.
This document was signed and approved in the plenary session of

the 4th National Conference of National History in April of 1949.
The original text had been written in 1943, according to the date
written in the preface to the book (19). In this volume Lima offers
“methodological suggestions” to other authors of literary histories
(89-99). It is clear that Alceu Amoroso Lima was selected as the
“arbiter” of the SPHAN’s project for literary historiography. Lima’s
Introdução à literatura brasileira was meant to be the official
methodological blueprint for literary historiography. Rodrigo Melo
Franco de Andrade’s formal endorsement is evidence of the high
stature of Lima as a critic, historian and ideologue of the state. Such
endorsement also means that this state apparatus took charge of the
project to provide incentive for other projects in the area of literary
historiography by offering guidelines to prospective historians. This
is not to say that there were impositions, censorship or strict rules
to be obeyed by other historians. In Lima’s Introdução there are

mostly methodological suggestions for organizing a historical narra-
tive. None of these methods is singled out as the best or most ap-
propriate. Historians had autonomy to choose whichever method
they deemed most appropriate. The document, however, expresses
Lima’s view of the literary phenomenon, and his views were influ-
enced by Benedetto Croce’s idealism.
Many factors influenced the emergence of a coherent metanar-
rative of Modernism. None of these factors alone could determine
all of its most distinctive features, its somewhat standardized out-
look, its linearity, or its boastful tone. First and foremost, Mod-
ernism became the hallmark of the state cultural and educational
apparatuses during the 1930s and 40s. Second, the university sys-
tem that emerged during this period is not only inspired by Mod-
ernism but it was implemented with the help and expertise of mod-
ernist intellectuals in their roles as professors, literary critics,
ideologues, artists, cultural administrators, and policy makers.
In the process of the institutionalization and canonization of
Modernism, a cohesive and homogeneous narrative emerges. Many
of the contradictions of the various modernist sub-currents were
minimized in favor of an unambiguous heroic image for Modernism
and most of the modernists. The process of canonization achieved
its completion during the 1950s, when a number of literary histori-
ography volumes were released. The metanarrative of Modernism
finally entered the educational system and there it would remain for
most of the twentieth century. In the following chapter, I will ana-
lyze the rhetoric of this type of historiography and the ideological
and institutional background of its main proponents.
CHAPTER TWO
LITERARY HISTORIOGRAPHY AND THE

CANONIZATION OF MODERNISM IN BRAZIL1
a form of literary criticism usually linked to institutions of

A S
higher education, literary history is a genre of canonical stud-
ies that perform a pivotal role in regulating the study of literature in
the educational system. Literary histories usually present texts and
authors diachronically, in a somewhat linear timeline based on aes-
thetic, ideological, and thematic interconnections between texts of
a given period of time. The volumes of literary history present a se-
lection of the authors deemed to be the most relevant in the cultur-
al patrimony of a nation. The numerous volumes of literary history
are conceived as imperfect, limited and partial materializations of
the incommensurable totality of the canon. They offer a structure
for the curriculum and the syllabus of institutions that regulate ac-
cess and reproduce this cultural patrimony. The literary canon it-
self, as John Guillory defines it, is an “imaginary totality” of the
most relevant authors and works: “No one has access to the canon
as a totality ...no one ever reads every canonical work; no one can,
because the works invoked as canonical change continually accord-
ing to many different occasions of judgement or contestation” (30).
The canon only exists in concrete form in the lists of works that ap-
pear in the syllabus or in the curriculum of a program of study. Lit-
erary histories offer a representation of the canon that reflects a
1
Parts of this chapter have appeared in the article “Theory and Practice of
Literary Historiography” Ellipsis, specifically the first half of the chapter, which
deals with the 1950s historiography.
80
LITERARY HISTORIOGRAPHY AND THE CANONIZATION 81
dominant view of the symbolic value and the meaning(s) of this lit-
erary patrimony.
John Guillory offers a critique of the canon debate in the United
States in which there is a polarization between those who defend a
multicultural approach and those who defend the traditional repro-
duction of the classics. Guillory calls attention to the fact that the de-
bate is grounded on a misconception of the process of canon forma-
tion. The agenda of multiculturalism, with its focus on social identity,
has been instrumental in fostering a more diverse and representative
liberal curriculum. However, by taking for granted that the canon is
structured around the notion of the social identity, the discourse of
multiculturalism loses sight of larger problems. Guillory argues that
notions of social identity, race, and gender are historically specific,
contemporary conditions of canon formation and not categories that
existed since the inception of literary studies. These categories are in-
sufficient to explain how the canon is formed and reproduced: “...the
historical process of canon formation, even or especially at the mo-
ment of institutional judgment, is too complex to be reduced to de-
termination by the single factor of the social identity of the author”
(17). The author argues that canon formation is less an issue of social
identity than it is a question of the unequal distribution of “cultural
capital,” a concept developed by Pierre Bourdieu. One of the main
reasons why the traditional canon excludes the literary production of
minorities and women is because educational institutions reproduce,
as Guillory points out, “the structure of power relations, a structure
of complex and ramifying inequality” (6).
According to Pierre Bourdieu, the educational system is a
sphere of legitimation and consecration of symbolic production. It
is the institutional space of reproduction of power relations and im-
position of hegemonic values, which constitute “symbolic vio-
lence.” Intellectuals (auctores), according to Bourdieu, belong to
the field of cultural production, which occupies a dominated posi-
tion within the field of power (“The Field” 38). Intellectuals pos-
sess symbolic forms of capital, cultural capital (i.e. knowledge,
skills, education, and titles), which gives them higher status in soci-
ety, even though intellectuals might still have lower economic capi-
tal than others in the field of power.2 Similarly, literary historians
2
Although intellectuals are usually in a dominated position, less powerful posi-
tion, they are often in close proximity to the “field of power” because of their cul-
tural capital. In some cases, they even occupy positions in the “field of power.” See
Bourdieu, “The Field” 38-39.
and critics (lectores) occupy a relatively high position in the cultural

field. They are assigned the role of dissemination, iteration and, not
infrequently, conceptualization of the literary and cultural heritage,
in and for the educational system. They are important agents in the
establishment and maintenance of the canon by taking part with the
auctores and other agents in the struggle for the imposition of legiti-
mate modes of consumption. The canonical revisions that occur
from time to time frequently reflect, according to Bourdieu, the
ideals of those who occupy higher positions in the educational sys-
tem and/or in the cultural apparatuses of the state.
Notions of social identity are not just historically specific, but
these canonic structures or subdivisions have more impact in the
United States and perhaps Europe. Guillory could have made his
point much more easily if he was trying to explain the problems of
canon formation taking as an example the case of Brazilian literary
studies. In Brazil, in spite of the fact that there are several well-es-
tablished specialized areas of criticism concerned with issues of
class, gender, race, ethnicity, and sexuality that challenge the tradi-
tional centralized view of the canon, the manner by which the na-
tional literary patrimony is organized, represented, and disseminat-
ed in the educational system has not been affected much by the
agenda of liberal multiculturalism. This observation can be con-
firmed by an examination of the most popular textbooks and the
hefty volumes of literary histories. These publications present a
schematic representation of the canon and also inform the structure
and content of the syllabus and curriculum, which continue to be
structured around a centralized and epic narrative of national iden-
tity. A prime example of this practice in recent years can be found
in José Aderaldo Castello’s A literatura brasileira: Origens e unidade
(1999). In this two-volume anthology there are no sections that take
into account issues of non-hegemonic ethnicities, religious prac-
tices, sexual preference or gender as structuring categories. As the
subtitle “Origins and Unity” suggests, this study overlooks markers
of difference, retroactively unifying dissimilar cultural productions
into a narrative of “Brazilianess.” The discourse of literary histories
in Brazil may recognize these differences, but the main goal of these
studies is to define what elements are shared in the culture: what
makes the literary patrimony uniquely Brazilian. The publication of
Castello’s work could be seen as a celebration of fifty years of the
same rhetoric presented in the body of a historiography that first
appeared in the 1950s, when Castello himself emerged among one

of the first groups of specialized literary critics and historians.
It is well known that the first and most decisive moment in this
academic area took place around the turn of the century, during the
first Republican regime, with the works of Sílvio Romero and José
Veríssimo. The second significant moment happened in the 1950s,
when a wide array of literary histories appeared. I will focus mostly
on the literary histories of the 1950s, providing an inventory of the
1950s publications with a brief analysis of their format and con-
tents, as well as biographical information about the authors of these
publications. The rhetoric of literary historiography relies heavily
on the notion of rupture and emancipation in order to define the
uniqueness of Brazilian literature in general and particularly in its
definitions of the modernist movement. I will briefly comment on
the alternative historicism proposed by members of the Noigandres
group3 of concrete poets and their appropriation of the modernist
work (especially the anthropophagic aspect of Oswald de An-
drade’s works). My review of the Campos brothers’ line of criticism
also includes a consideration of the manner by which some aspects
of the modernist language and aesthetics, especially with regard to
irony and parody, have been interpreted by other Brazilian literary
critics. The chapter ends with a reflection on the ambiguity of prim-
itivism in relation to the historical past and thus introduces some of
the issues analyzed in the second part of this study.
LITERARY HISTORIOGRAPHY’S METHODS AND FUNCTIONS
Besides regulating the study of literature, the discourse of liter-

ary historiography has also been historically associated with nation-
alist ideals. The volumes of literary history organize a vast body of
literature produced over the centuries into an epic narrative of the
formation of a distinctive national identity. Taken as a measure of a
nation’s cultural and intellectual development, the literary patrimo-
3
The Noigandres group of poets was formed in 1952. They founded the Con-
crete poetry movement in Brazil but their cultural activities also included literary
criticism, translations, and even collaborations with musicians and artists. All of
them published important works of literary criticism. The most active in this area
was Haroldo de Campos (1929-2003). For more on their history and their main
ideas with regard to poesía concreta, see Teoria da poesia concreta.
ny acquires, in this discourse, an exceptional importance. In Brazil,

Silvio Romero’s História da literatura brasileira (1888),4 for instance,
is often cited as one of the foundational texts of Republican era na-
tionalism. Romero tries to establish a naturalist type of criticism as a
reaction against the Romantic mode of thought. He studies the lit-
erature produced in Brazil in order to observe and theorize about
general traits of Brazilian society. Influenced by racial theories de-
veloped by deterministic schools of thought, Romero applies con-
cepts from Thomas Buckle, Auguste Comte, Charles Darwin, Her-
bert Spencer, and Hippolyte Taine to argue that the particularities
of the environment and race in Brazil determine the reasons for the
underdeveloped status of Brazilian literature and society. In chapter
three of his História Romero refers to Buckle to explain the reasons
for the lagging behind of the Brazilian people.5 The author lists fea-
tures of the Brazilian physical environment that obstruct cultural
progress. Excessive heat and humidity, winds, rivers, mountains are
all listed as obstacles to cultural development:
Buckle é verdadeiro na pintura que faz de nosso atraso, não na

determinação de seus fatores. Estes, a meu ver, são primários ou
naturais, secundários ou étnicos, e terciários ou morais. Os prin-
cipais daqueles vêm a ser–o excessivo calor, ajudado pelas secas
na maior parte do país; as chuvas torrenciais no vale do Amazo-
nas, além de intensíssimo calor; a falta de grandes vias fluviais
nas províncias entre o São Francisco e o Parnaíba; as febres de
mau caráter reinantes na costa. O mais notável dos secundários é
a incapacidade relativa das três raças que constituíram a popula-
ção do país. (87) (Emphasis in the original)
Buckle is truthful in his portrayal of our “backwardness,” not in

determining its factors. These, in my view, are primary or natur-
al, secondary or ethnic, and tertiary or moral. The main natural
factors come to be–the excessive heat, increased by the draughts
4
I am using the 6th edition of Romero’s História, published in 1960. For an ex-
cellent analysis of Sílvio Romero’s work as one of the originators of the social sci-
ences in Brazil see Ortiz, Cultura brasileira 13-35. See also Ventura, “História e
Crítica em Sílvio Romero” 34-54.
5
Romero refers to a comment written by Buckle concerning the physical envi-
ronment in Brazil. Lilia Schwarcz comments on Buckle’s discourse explaining that
“Buckle, who dedicated ten pages of his vast work on English civilization to the
Brazilian condition, concluded that the ‘most abundant’ nature in Brazil left little
space for humans and their works” (Spectacle of Races 36).
in most of the country; torrential rains in the Amazon valley, be-

sides the very intense heat; the lack of fluvial paths in the
provinces between the São Francisco and the Parnaíba [rivers];
the bad character fevers that reign on the coast. The most no-
table secondary factor is the relative incapacity of the three races
that constituted the country’s population.
In spite of these environmental hindrances Romero sees traces of

originality and ways to overcome certain deficiencies. With regard
to the “secondary” or ethnic factor of the Brazilian backwardness,
Romero considers racial miscegenation as a distinctive element of
Brazilian society. Racial mixing is both something inevitable and
permanent: “.. . a população do Brasil será sempre o resultado da
fusão de diversas camadas étnicas (121). [ . . . the Brazilian popula-
tion will always be the result of the fusion of several ethnic layers.].
As a racial determinist, Romero also considers miscegenation as a
negative trait. One of the unique features of Romero’s project is
that he conceives of literature (including literary criticism and histo-
riography) not as autonomous areas but as social phenomena to be
investigated by the social sciences. To Romero, literature is a prod-
uct of the socio-historical, racial, and environmental conditions of a
given time and place, which, in his view, provide the elements for
the deciphering of deterministic social laws. His book attempts to
“. . . encontrar as leis que presidiram e continuam a determinar a
formação do gênio, do espírito, do caráter do povo brasileiro.” (55)
[ . . . to find the laws that presided and that continue to determine
the formation of the genius, spirit, and character of the Brazilian peo-
ple.]. One of the founders of sociology in Brazil, Romero attempted to
find answers to broad social issues through the study of literature, not
simply to historicize formal features of literary production in Brazil.
Another landmark work in the area of literary historiography
was José Veríssimo’s História da literatura brasileira (1916). Veríssi-
mo introduces an impressionistic method of criticism borrowed
from late nineteenth century art pour l’art theoreticians Gustave
Lanson, Anatole France, and Jules Lemaître:
Literatura é arte literária . . . Assim pensando, quiçá erradamente,

pois não me presumo de infalível, sistematicamente excluo da
história da literatura brasileira quando esta luz [sic] se não deva
considerar literatura. Esta é neste livro sinônimo de boas e belas
letras, conforme a vernacular noção clássica. (13)
Literature is literary art. . . . Thus thinking, perhaps wrongly, for I

do not presume to be infallible, I systematically exclude from the
history of Brazilian literature when this light [sic] should not be
considered literature. [Literature] is, in this book, synonymous
with good and belles-lettres, according to the classical vernacular
notion.
Veríssimo’s approach privileges the literary work as the primary ob-

ject of analysis, and his evaluative criterion relies heavily on the
classical aesthetic concept of belletrism. As a standard of excel-
lence, the author abides by aesthetic values of elegance and refine-
ment, usually according to European standards. In Veríssimo’s
view, literature and art possess a historicity of their own. Even
though his aestheticism implies reproduction of classical European
standards of formal excellence, Veríssimo considers the literature
produced in Brazil to be completely emancipated from that of Por-
tugal (16-17). The author is especially enthusiastic about the work
of Machado de Assis. Veríssimo sees in Machado de Assis’ work a
matrix for an original literary expression in Brazil. With this argu-
ment, Veríssimo makes a nationalist claim that aims at overcoming
the charge of cultural dependence. Therefore, his discourse does in
fact extrapolate the strict realm of the aesthetic and makes a nation-
alistic claim.
Romero’s and Veríssimo’s versions of a history of Brazilian liter-
ature represent opposing, irreconcilable models of literary histori-
ography. Veríssimo’s formalist approach advocates the historicity of
the aesthetic object with a positive view of the status of Brazilian lit-
erature of the early 1900s. On the other hand, Romero’s sociologi-
cal approach utilizes literary products as documents that reveal par-
ticular aspects of society as a whole. Romero’s reliance on racial
determinism and his negative view of miscegenation contribute to
his dubious attitude toward the value of Brazilian literature, as he
sees traces of originality but also notes weaknesses that could not
be overcome. This theoretical and methodological divide between a
sociological approach and a formalistic one would continue to in-
fluence Brazilian literary historiography for many decades. Howev-
er, the fact that authors with such conflicting definitions of the liter-
ary phenomenon in many ways converge in affirming traces of
originality and emancipation of the Brazilian literary expression
proves that the purpose of literary historiography is ultimately to
determine original features of the literary canon that would contain

symbolic elements of national identity. More than an inventory of
relevant authors and works, Romero and Veríssimo’s histories be-
came themselves part of the canon as some of the first foundational
narratives of modern Brazil.
Literary historians usually explain their methods and criteria
but rarely discuss the process of selection (or exclusion) of texts
and authors that, in their view, represent national literature. The
presumedly all-inclusive inventory of national authors of literary
historiography tends to impart the notion of neutrality and disinter-
est on the part of the historian. The claim of neutrality and impar-
tiality allows critics and historians to make judgments about the lit-
erary text’s legitimacy without textually justifying them. As Randal
Johnson summarizes Bourdieu’s concept of symbolic violence:
The establishment of a canon in the guise of a universally valued

cultural inheritance or patrimony constitutes an act of “symbolic
violence,” as Bourdieu defines the term, in that it gains legitima-
cy by misrecognizing the underlying power relations which
serve, in part, to guarantee the continued reproduction of the le-
gitimacy of those who produce or defend the canon. (Johnson,
“Editor’s Introduction” 20)
While imposing a given set of values, critics and historians of litera-

ture also make an implicit statement about their own legitimacy and
authority. Literary historians, critics, publishers, teachers, sponsors,
etc. combine efforts to produce symbolic value or the “belief in the
value of the work” (Bourdieu, “The Field” 37). The symbolic value
added through the work of criticism and historiography ensures the
longevity of the literary and artistic work. Thus, literary historians
certainly fulfill the ambition to act as auctores by selecting, judging
the “aesthetic value” of a given text, and assigning meaning to the
literary production under consideration. Historians are, in fact, im-
posing modes of consumption of literary texts and guaranteeing the
reproduction of the hegemonic view of the canon in the educational
system.
As a highly institutionalized academic area, literary historiogra-
phy assures a high degree of consecration for both the literary his-
torian and for the authors and works they choose to include and
preserve. As a vehicle of nationalistic discourse designed for the ed-
ucational setting, literary historiography does not usually foster

transformations in the cultural area. On the contrary, it tends to
consolidate past struggles for legitimization in the literary sphere.
In other words, the inclusion of a given work in literary historiogra-
phy represents one of the last phases in the process of institutional-
ization of literary production. Literary historiography works in fa-
vor of notions of preservation, consecration, canonization, and
standardization of literary patrimony.
The task of the literary historians of the 1950s was, however,
more complex and paradoxical than simply updating the list of au-
thors and works in order to include Modernism in the established
Brazilian literary canon. They somehow carried out the contradicto-
ry task of maintaining the traditional canon while trying to give it a
seemingly new outlook. In order to understand the functioning of
an academic area such as historiography, it is not enough to exam-
ine the theoretical and methodological approaches, or even to con-
sider the reigning ideology in a particular historical context. In the
following section I will provide a list of the main authors of histori-
ography in the 1950s and their theoretical and methodological ap-
proaches. I will also include information about the position they oc-
cupied in educational institutions and, in some cases, the position
they occupied within the state cultural apparatus.
BRAZILIAN LITERARY HISTORIANS OF THE 1950S
Literary historiography in Brazil underwent its most significant

change in the 1950s, when a large number of studies were pub-
lished and a new generation of literary historians and critics ap-
peared. This decade was the most prolific period for this academic
area, producing a variety of types/formats and approaches.6 Ac-
6
I do not mean distinct methodological or theoretical approaches, which were
predominantly formalistic in the literary histories of the 1950s. I am simply refer-
ring to the distinct ways by which the authors of these literary histories organize
their contents. For example, Sérgio Milliet focused exclusively on the early mod-
ernist poetry, while Mário da Silva Brito historicized some of the events preceding
the modernist movement. Other literary historians like Antônio Amora, Afrânio
Coutinho, Alceu Lima, and Nelson Sodré presented a broader scope of texts and
historical periods. There were distinct ways of organizing the material but not a
great variety of methodological approaches.
cording to Letícia Malard, between the publication of José Veríssi-

mo’s História da literatura brasileira in 1916 and the 1950s boom,
there were studies by Ronald de Carvalho in 1919 and Artur Mota
in 1930. In her assessment the only comprehensive volume with an
entirely new approach to be published between 1916 and the 1950s
was the first edition of Nelson Werneck Sodré’s História da literatu-
ra brasileira: Seus fundamentos econômicos, first published in 1938.7
As I explained in chapter one, the anthologies of poetry published
by Manuel Bandeira, the historical overview of Modernism pub-
lished by Mário de Andrade, and the literary reviews published in
volumes by Alceu Amoroso Lima could also be considered partial
works of historiography that appeared in the 1940s.
The great majority of these 1950s histories tend to follow a for-
malistic approach, which vindicates the autonomy of literature vis-
à-vis other cultural practices and other historical developments.
Not only does literature possess its own historicity but following
these principles, the area of literary historiography should also be
considered an autonomous type of historical discourse. In this theo-
retical and methodological regard the new studies were closer to
José Veríssimo’s than to Silvio Romero’s view of the literary phe-
nomenon. These formalistic methodological premises informed, for
example, the work of Afrânio Coutinho, for whom “ . . . o fenômeno
literário é encarado–insista-se–como fenômeno autônomo, não sub-
ordinado, mas equivalente às outras formas de vida com as quais se
relaciona. Em suma, o princípio da ordem da obra é estético, não
histórico.” (Introdução 74) [ . . . the literary phenomenon is seen
here–I insist–as an autonomous one, not subordinate, but equiva-
lent to other forms of life to which it is related. In sum, the literary
work’s organizing principle is aesthetic, not historical.]
Coutinho is considered the leader of this entire generation of
literary critics and historians who were part of the Crítica Nova
movement.8 He is the editor of the largest project of literary histori-
7
The 1938 edition was published by José Olympio in the Coleção Documentos
Brasileiros series. A revised version was published 1960 by José Olympio and then
in 1964 by Civilização Brasileira. Sodré’s analysis of the modernist movement in his
1938 version of his project was quite sketchy with no reference to specific titles. For
a detailed study of Sodré’s work, see Malard 55-74.
8
In reference to Afrânio Coutinho as the leader of this generation and for a list
of the main works in literary criticism at the time, see Martins, “A crítica mo-
dernista” 493-535.
ography to appear in the 1950s, the six-volume collection titled A

literatura no Brasil. Coutinho’s effort to introduce the tenets of New
Criticism in Brazil aimed at overcoming what the author saw as the
limitations of the impressionistic approach that still dominated crit-
icism in Brazil (Silva 65). Like Coutinho, the other literary histori-
ans of the 1950s strove to give a new identity to the Brazilian liter-
ary canon. The most valued forms were poetry and fictional
narratives. Other genres–such as theater, non-fictional prose (such
as autobiographies and essays), chronicles, and other journalistic
texts–carried less prestige. In terms of aesthetic values, usually the
most innovative texts receive higher appreciation. These historians
still valued the use of erudite language and forms, but they accept-
ed the use of vernacular language, elements of folklore, and other
features of Brazilian popular culture that were valued by the mod-
ernists.
The following list presents an array of the publication types that
first appeared in this period. Not all of them fit perfectly under the
category of literary historiography. In the case of the collaborative
multi-volume collections, the year of publication corresponds to the
earliest volume in the collection; in general, individual volumes of
these collections appeared in different years. Most of the titles list-
ed below were subsequently republished, sometimes as revised ver-
sions through a different publishing house: (Table I).
Even though the publishing houses were still concentrated in
Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, there were a variety of products com-
peting for the same market. This body of historiography represents
an editorial boom in this particular area. Some of the authors listed
here were also in charge of the publishing companies that released
their work. For example, Mário da Silva Brito was the director of
Saraiva, and Alceu Amoroso Lima owned Agir publishing compa-
ny. Some of these publications were reprinted several times (e.g.
Antonio Candido’s Formação and Afrânio Coutinho’s Introdução).
There are significant dissimilarities among these publications. Most
of them fall into the category of traditional literary histories, orga-
nized according to the classic division of stylistic periods. Some are
brief literary manuals that target mid to high-school level public
(e.g. Lima’s Quadro sintético), while others are large and compre-
hensive studies that target the academic audience (e.g. Candido’s
Formação). Most of them cover the largest possible historical peri-
od, from the 1500s up until the middle of the twentieth century.
Table 1: Literary History Volumes Published in the 1950s

Author Title Publisher/Place Year # of
Vols
Amora, Antônio História da literatura brasileira Saraiva, SP 1955 1

Soares
Brito, Mário da História do modernismo Saraiva, SP 1958 1
Silva brasileiro: Vol 1 Antecedentes da
Semana de Arte Moderna
Candido, Anto- Formação da literatura Martins, SP 1959 2
nio brasileira: Momentos decisivos
Coutinho, Introdução à literatura no Brasil São José, RJ 1959 1
Afrânio
Coutinho, A literatura no Brasil Sul Americana, 1959 6
Afrânio, ed. RJ
Lima, Alceu Quadro sintético da literatura Agir, RJ 1956 1
Amoroso brasileira
Lins, Álvaro, ed. História da literatura brasileira José Olympio, RJ 1950 1
Pereira, Lúcia Vol 1Prosa de ficção (De 1870 a
Miguel 1920)
Milliet, Sérgio Panorama da moderna poesia MES, RJ 1952 1
brasileira
Sodré, Nelson História da literatura brasileira: José Olympio, RJ 1960 1
Werneck Seus fundamentos econômicos
These studies attempt to cover this wide range of literary produc-

tion not in strict chronological order, but rather by grouping au-
thors and works according to categories such as Baroque; Neo-
Classicism (Arcadismo); Romanticism; Realism; Naturalism;
Symbolism; Parnassianism; and Modernism, etc. There are only
slight variations concerning the time periods and stylistic/thematic
organization among them.
Álvaro Lins and Afrânio Coutinho are the editors of the largest
projects. These are collaborative projects that launched an entire
generation of critics and historians of literature. The unfinished
project directed by Álvaro Lins was supposed to have contributions
from Lúcia Miguel Pereira plus eleven others.9 The volume au-
thored by Pereira is devoted to the fictional prose from 1870 to
1920. Coutinho’s A literatura no Brasil includes sections written by
Mário da Silva Brito, Péricles Eugênio de Silva Ramos, Dirce Cortes
9
Of the proposed twelve volumes, only Lúcia Miguel Pereira’s Prosa de ficção
ended up being published.
Riedel, J. Alexandre Barbosa, José Aderaldo Castello, Luís Costa

Lima, Sônia Brayner, Antônio Olinto, Adonias Filho, Walmir Ayala,
Franklin de Oliveira, Ivo Barbieri, Waltensir Dutra, Xavier Plac-
er,Wilson Martins, and others.10
The only exceptions to these all-encompassing traditional struc-
tures and themes are Antonio Candido’s Formação; Sérgio Milliet’s
Panorama (about which I have already commented in the previous
chapter), and Mário da Silva Brito’s História do modernismo
brasileiro. Candido’s is the most complex project of these three. It
maps literary production in Brazil from the eighteenth century,
known as Arcadismo in literary historiography, until Romanticism.
The author argues that these were the formative years of what was
to become modern Brazilian literature. Thus, modern and contem-
porary literary production are not included in the study, since, in
his view, Brazilian literature had been fully developed since the mid
nineteenth century.11 However, of all the works listed above, Candi-
do’s Formação is the only one to organize a vast array of literary
production under a broad historical perspective. For the first time
in the history of this genre, an author attempts to analyze issues of
production, circulation, and consumption of literary products. Can-
dido’s background as a sociologist and his interest in Silvio
Romero’s method certainly played a role in his concept of literature
in Formação. Of the studies published in the 1950s, Formação is the
only one to be somewhat inspired by Romero’s sociological view of
literature.
Mário da Silva Brito’s project focuses on the events that preced-
ed the Week of Modern Art, based on personal testimonies from
10
Not all of these authors were part of the “Crítica Nova” group. Marcelo José
da Silva argues that Wilson Martins, for example, did not agree with Coutinho’s
methods. In Silva’s assessment, the specialists that collaborated with Coutinho ex-
pressed views that concur with the tenets of New Criticism. For more details, see
Silva 69.
11
Candido does not make reference to the modernist movement in this partic-
ular study, but in a subsequent work the critic does seem to endorse the conven-
tional view of the significance of Modernism. For example, in the volume Presença
da literatura brasileira (1974), which he co-authored with José Aderaldo Castello,
this traditional view of Modernism is reinforced. In fairness to Candido, this vol-
ume does not constitute a significant piece of his vast legacy as a literary critic and it
does not represent his view of the literary phenomenon or of Modernism. The vol-
umes of literary history Candido co-authored with Castello are designed for the
teaching of literature to a novice audience. Thus, they reproduce an institutional
view of Modernism and of the literary patrimony as a whole.
some of the organizers, as well as other sources of information such

as newspaper and magazine articles, personal letters, biographies,
and other sources. This is not an orthodox work of literary histori-
ography. It is an interesting and valuable historical/journalistic ac-
count that excludes analysis of literary texts. Though it contains im-
portant background information and documentation of events that
led to the official inception of the modernist movement, Brito’s ac-
count essentially reproduces the modernists’ view of the event, rein-
forcing a mythical view of the movement as a cultural revolution.12
This group of critics and historians who participate in the vari-
ous projects described above was not entirely made up of profes-
sional or specialized literary critics. As the table below indicates,
there is a certain degree of specialization among the body of critics
and historians, even though none of them earned degrees in litera-
ture. At least three of these authors (Amora, Candido, and Couti-
nho) dedicated themselves almost exclusively to the work of literary
criticism and historiography. Few of these authors actually debuted
in the 1950s as critics. Still, the 1950s marks the establishment of a
semi-professional generation of literary critics who were neither
modernist writers nor biographically connected to the modernist
movement. Most of the authors considered here were directly con-
nected to institutions of higher learning (i. e. The Universidade de
São Paulo, The Universidade Federal de Rio de Janeiro, The Uni-
versidade Católica, and the Instituto Pedro II). The only authors
who were directly involved with the modernist movement since the
early years are Sérgio Milliet and Alceu Amoroso Lima.
Even though most of these authors did not hold degrees specifi-
cally in literature, they were able to establish a career in the field of
criticism and historiography by virtue of their connections with uni-
versities and other educational institutions. Some literary historians
were not only inserted in the field of cultural production but also
linked to the “field of power” to use Bourdieu’s terminology. For
example, Alceu Amoroso Lima, Álvaro Lins, and Sérgio Milliet all
occupied, at some point in their career a high-ranking position
within federal, municipal, and state administrations.
12
For a more complete and less partial history of the background surrounding
the Week of Modern Art, see Gonçalves 1922 A semana que não terminou.
Table 2: Educational Background, Political Affiliations and Careers of Au-

thors of Literary Histories published in the 1950s
Name Birth/ Education Political Career Type of

Death Affiliation Production
Amora, An- 1917-1999 Literature professor, Literary criti-
tônio Soares member of Academia cism and histo-
Paulista de Letras riography
Brito, Mário 1916- Law (1943) Journalist, literary histo- Journalism, lit-
da Silva rian, poet. Editor and erary criticism
director of Saraiva press and historiog-
raphy, poetry
Candido, An- 1918- Social Sci- Partido So- Professor of Sociology Literary criti-
tonio ences USP cialista and Literary Theory at cism and histo-
(1941) USP riography, soci-
ology
Coutinho, 1911-2000 Medical Chair of literature at Literary criti-
Afrânio School Colégio Pedro II (1951- cism and histo-
(1931); Spe- 1965), Chair of Litera- riography, ped-
cialization in ture at Universidade do agogy,
Lit criticism Brasil / UFRJ (1965-); reference
(1942-47) at visiting professor at sev- books
Columbia U. eral American universi-
ties
Lima, Alceu 1893-1983 Law (1913) Liga Dir. Centro Dom Vital; Journalism,
Amoroso Eleitoral Leader Ação Católica Literary criti-
Católica (1932-45); Pres. and cism and histo-
Chair of Sociology at U riography, es-
DFl (1937); Chair of Lit- says and books
erature Fac. Fil. U do on sociology,
Brasil (1939-40); Presi- politics, eco-
dent (PUC-RJ)(1941-); nomics; reli-
Cons. Nac. Educação gion/ theology,
(1931-7) philosophy,
pedagogy.
Lins, Álvaro 1912-1970 Law (1932) Partido So- State Sec. in Pernambu- Literary criti-
cial co; Lit. critic in Correio cism and histo-
Democrático da Manhã, RJ;. Prof. at riography, bi-
Colégio Pedro II; Ap- ographies
pointed by the Itamaraty
to teach in Lisbon 1952-
54. UNESCO ambas-
sador
Name Birth/ Education Political Career Type of

Death Affiliation Production
Milliet, Sér- 1898-1966 Economics Partido So- 1930s - Literary critic Poetry, fiction,
gio and Social cialista O Estado de S Paulo literary criti-
Sciences (1935-38); Dept. of cism and his-
(1916) Culture of São Paulo; toriography,
Director of Lib. of S. art criticism
Paulo; Pres. Braz. As- and historio-
soc. of Art Critics; graphy
1954 Chair of Braz.
Lit. U. of Lausanne
(Switzerland)
Pereira, Lú- 1901-1959 Professional writer, lit- Fiction, liter-
cia Miguel erary critic and biogra- ary criticism,
pher essays, biogra-
phies, transla-
tions
Sodré, Nel- 1911-1999 Military Partido Co- Military Service; Prof: Literary criti-
son Werneck School munista Escola de Comando e cism and his-
(1933) Brasileiro Estado-Maior (1947- toriography,es-
50); Prof: ISEB (1955- says on
64) literature, his-
tory politics,
economics,
history of the
printing press,
etc.
Source: Coutinho and Sousa; “Nelson Werneck Sodré.” Centro de Pesquisa
In the 1950s literary criticism and historiography became, for

the most part, specialized areas connected to educational institu-
tions. What happened in the areas of literary criticism and histori-
ography was the consolidation of a wider process of rationalization
and division of the intellectual labor fostered by the university.
Most of these literary histories were written by authors who occu-
pied the highest positions in the departments of literature of the re-
cently reformed university system. This institutionalized discourse
marks the early years of literary studies in the university system.
With the emergence of a semi-professional body of literary crit-
ics and historians and the notion of an autonomous science of the
literary phenomenon propagated by Russian Formalism, New Criti-
cism, and Benedetto Croce’s Neo-Hegelian Idealism, this academic
area carried out a thorough reconfiguration of the national canon.
As Alfredo Bosi argues, none of these tenets were rigorously incor-
porated or applied, as critics and historians seemed to propose an

eclectic approach in which the “ideário nacional” [national ideals]
continued to prevail (“Por um historicismo renovado” 27-28). A
multi-faceted, yet unified, concept of Brazilianess is structured up-
on such pillars as Ethnic origins (the three races), Christianity
(Catholicism), Folklore, Regional cultures, the Brazilian vernacular
language, intellectual emancipation, and aesthetic innovation and
excellence. These categories, obviously, were not new and did not
introduce an entirely new view of Brazilian culture, society and lit-
erature. However, with the development of a formalist approach to
literary criticism and historiography (New Criticism), these symbols
were invoked and interpreted exclusively within the literary text. In
keeping with the tenets of New Criticism, the circumstances involv-
ing production, circulation, reception, as well as biographical infor-
mation about a particular author were usually excluded from or
disregarded in the 1950s corpus of literary histories. With the ex-
ception of Antonio Candido’s Formação, the 1950s literary histori-
ography clashed with the Romerian version and aligned with José
Veríssimo’s aesthetic view of the literary phenomenon. In the major-
ity of the 1950s histories considered here, literary works of distinct
time periods were given equal status within the history of ideas and
individual creative genius. Many facets of various modernist views
of Brazilian culture were then applied retroactively to a literary
legacy of almost five hundred years. These literary histories rein-
force the discourse of tradition under the guise of cultural modern-
ization. Modernism occupies a central position in this epic narrative
of the national literary patrimony.
THE STANDARDIZED METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION: MOD-

ERNISM AS A REVOLUTION
From a methodological point of view, the official version, the stan-

dard definition of the modernist movement has survived the rise and
fall of various theoretical approaches to literature in academia.13 How-
13
If we consider that the earliest critical/historical reviews of Modernism ap-
pear in the 1930s, we could say that, from 1930 to approximately 1979 when Miceli
publishes Intelectuais e classe dirigente, criticism and historiography about Mod-
ernism remained practically intact. The only variations concern textual interpreta-
tion, but the definition of Modernism did not suffer any significant alteration.
ever, it is not by complete disregard for theoretical and methodologi-

cal developments in the humanities that literary historians and critics
have managed to keep the myth alive. On the contrary, scholars have
adapted different methods to accommodate the a priori institutional-
ized historical view of Modernism, regardless of the fundamental de-
mands of any given theoretical model. The group of historians and
critics that established the definitive textbook definition of Mod-
ernism was not a very homogeneous group in terms of their ideologi-
cal profile, methodological approaches, or the types of institutional af-
filiation.
The somewhat diverse methodologies used partially reveal and
partially hide the ideological position of individual historians. The
discourse of these historians reveals their identification with the
modernist project, but the texts elide information about the power
relations that influenced their judgments. In these histories mod-
ernist authors receive differentiated treatment, as they are ranked
according to the centrality of their work to the modernist move-
ment. At the highest ranks appear the names of Mário de Andrade,
Oswald de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira, Alcântara Machado, Carlos
Drummond de Andrade, and the group of novelists from the
Northeast (José Lins do Rego, Rachel de Queiroz, Jorge Amado,
and Graciliano Ramos). Other authors–such as Guilherme de
Almeida, Ronald de Carvalho, Sérgio Milliet, Raul Bopp, and
Ribeiro Couto–appear as important but not the most representative
of the movement. Also in this second tier is the verdeamarelo group
formed by Menotti Del Picchia, Cassiano Ricardo, and Plínio Salga-
do. However, the lists of authors and their ranking vary consider-
ably in these studies.
While authors receive differentiated treatment, Modernism ap-
pears as an entity: as the hero of freedom in these narratives. By and
large, the general definition of Modernism expressed in these texts
reflects what appears to be a relative consensus among critics and
historians. There are variations among these accounts, but in gener-
al these literary histories consolidate an overarching narrative in
which Modernism is seen as a revolution. These texts display simi-
lar arguments and reproduce the anecdotes of heroism told by
modernist authors about their experience.
The discourse of this body of historiography is highly aestheti-
cized, because it relies heavily on the implications of formal experi-
mentation, or aesthetic innovations, put forth by the early mod-
ernist production. According to this view, the first group of mod-

ernist intellectuals set itself apart from the previous generation
through the incorporation of avant-garde aesthetic features. Formal
experimentation is interpreted as a stable sign indicating a political
and ideological breach with late nineteenth century values and aes-
thetic norms.
Few of the literary histories analyzed here actually spell out the
political issues involved in this rupture with the past, other than an
imperative need to renew and update Brazilian literature with the
latest trends in Europe at the time. It would take too much space to
include all of the definitions of Modernism expressed in these his-
tories. In order to summarize it, I will analyze fragments taken from
three historians, each representing a specific theoretical and ideo-
logical position. The first, Coutinho, represents the New Criticism
approach; the second, Lima, represents the position of a Catholic
scholar; and the third, Sodré, expresses the views of a Marxist. A
brief and aestheticized rendition of the metanarrative is provided
by Coutinho:
O desejo de atualizar as letras nacionais–apesar de para tanto ser

preciso importar idéias nascidas em centros culturais mais avan-
çados–não implicava numa renegação do sentimento brasileiro.
Afinal aquilo que Oswald [de Andrade] aspirava, a princípio so-
zinho, depois em companhia de outros jovens artistas e intelec-
tuais, era tão somente a aplicação de novos processos artísticos
às inspirações autóctones, e, concomitantemente, a colocação do
país . . . nas coordenadas estéticas já abertas pela nova era. (A lite-
ratura no Brasil 1)
The desire to bring national literature up to date–despite the fact

that in order to do so it was necessary to import ideas born in
more advanced cultural centers–did not imply the denial of the
Brazilian [patriotic] sentiment. After all, what Oswald [de An-
drade] aspired to, at first alone, then later in the company of
other young artists and intellectuals, was only the application of
new artistic processes to the autochthonous inspirations, and,
concomitantly, the country’s placement . . . in the aesthetic paths
already opened by the new era.
Even though Coutinho advocates the supremacy of the aesthetic

over the historical, his own arguments reinforce the patriotic, na-
tionalist ethos of the modernist literary work. Coutinho attempts to

explain the fact that Oswald de Andrade introduced ideas and aes-
thetic models imported from Europe not as an act of subservience
to Eurocentric ideals, but as the expression of a search for au-
tochthonous themes for a truly national literary expression. The au-
thor avoids explaining this apparent contradiction by quickly com-
ing to the conclusion that the modernists’ ideas about the
intellectual’s role in society became political models for future gen-
erations. Yet, the actual political issues in which those intellectuals
were engaged remain unspoken. Coutinho clearly invokes the no-
tion of intellectual and artistic emancipation when he declares that
the modernists’ autochthonous aspirations placed the country on
the aesthetic path of the new era. It is a necessarily vague statement
that blends two aspects of the modernist project. That is, the author
connects the renovating aesthetic project of the modernists to the
notion of the opening of a new path of emancipation for national
intelligentsia. Coutinho’s statement also implies that the early mani-
festations of Modernism succeeded in imposing a new paradigm for
national literature. In this way, Coutinho’s discourse is partially
faithful to the formalist approach he endorsed, but it also veers into
non-aesthetic aspects of the modernist project.
Alceu Amoroso Lima’s introduction to the modernist move-
ment describes a major battle between the intellectual establish-
ment and the new generation of intellectuals. However, in spite of
the heroic tone, the specifics of the political and cultural issues in-
volved in such a conflict are not revealed: “O Modernismo, na sua
fase inicial, iria ser, acima de tudo, um movimento contra. Dividi-
ram-se os campos. Separaram-se as gerações. O moderno foi erigido
em valor como tal. A preocupação em agredir a velha guarda
literária e de procurar uma originalidade a todo transe, dominou o
ambiente” (Quadro sintético 68) (Emphasis in the original). [Mod-
ernism, in its initial phase, would be, above all, a counter move-
ment. The fields were divided. Generations were separated. The
modern was erected as a value in and of itself. The need to attack
the old literary generation and to search for originality at all costs
dominated the environment.]. The language Lima employs to de-
scribe the inception of Modernism bears resemblance to that of
military operations: Modernism appears as a combative counter
movement that “divides the field” and ushers in the modern (68).
The young generation’s antagonistic attitude and their relentless
search for originality signal their triumph. That is, the victory is be-
ing declared at the moment of enunciation of this historical ac-
count. It is clear that the history of Brazilian Modernism, in Lima’s
rendition, represents the hegemonic history of the winner. The telos
of emancipation is also implied in this statement. The aggressive
rupture appears not as a destructive act but as an edifying one. It is
in the name of originality and modernity that this violent rupture
justifies itself.
In a subtle but misleading statement Lima affirms that moderni-
ty is “erected as a value” (68) by the modernists, as if the previous
generation did not accept modernity or were not part of it. In fact,
Lima always tried to portray the Belle Époque literature as a defi-
cient modernity or as a “premodernity” in the cultural arena. In
spite of its a-historical and anachronistic character, the category
“premodernismo” gained currency among critics and historians. It
helped frame the Belle Époque authors as minor figures in the
canon, unfulfilled precursors of Modernism.14 This particular ap-
propriation of Modernism comes from the far right. As I explained
in chapter one, Lima was the leading Brazilian Catholic intellectual
who, since the 1920s, was also one of the highest authorities in the
area of literary criticism and historiography in Brazil. In 1949, he
was chosen by Rodrigo Melo Franco de Andrade, the head of
SPHAN, to be the arbiter of most of the literary historiography
projects in Brazil.
On the other side of the political spectrum, the only historian of
this generation of historians to identify himself as a Marxist scholar
in the 1950s is Nelson Werneck Sodré. In História da literatura
brasileira: Seus fundamentos econômicos Sodré makes an effort to
include historical and economic developments in his analysis. How-
ever, Sodré’s arguments are remarkably similar to the others. In
spite of including some reference to economic factors affecting lit-
erary production, he still follows the same formalistic/stylistic peri-
odization as Coutinho (e.g. Romanticism, Realism, Naturalism).
Consequently, this is how Sodré contextualizes and evaluates the
modernist movement’s accomplishments:
14
For example, Alfredo Bosi adopts the term in his História concisa and subse-
quently published an entire volume with the title A literatura brasiliera: O pré-mo-
dernismo.
O ambiente que o Movimento Modernista encontrava era dos

mais propícios ao irrompimento de alguma coisa nova. Domina-
va-o ainda o parnasianismo, com os poetas apegados ao soneto e
os prosadores ao dicionário, inteiramente distanciados da vida e
do mundo, trabalhando fora da realidade, na complicada elabo-
ração de obras a que o público concedia uma atenção superficial.
Sobre essa planície é que os novos, com estardalhaço, lançam as
suas futuras arremetidas, destruindo tudo na passagem e não
perdoando pecado algum. A tarefa principal do movimento con-
sistiria, sem dúvida, em destruir o existente, o dominante, o con-
sagrado. (477)
The environment that the modernist movement faced was highly

propitious for the eruption of something new. It was still domi-
nated by Parnassianism, with the poets attached to the sonnet
and the prose writers attached to the dictionary, entirely re-
moved from life and from the world, working outside of reality
in the complicated elaboration of works to which the public paid
superficial attention. It is upon this platform that the new [writ-
ers and intellectuals] noisily launch their future attacks, destroy-
ing everything in their way and forgiving no sin. The main task
of the movement consisted, without a doubt, in destroying the
existent, the dominant, the consecrated.
The bellicose rhetoric is present here too. It is in passages like these

that the identification between the literary historian and the mod-
ernist rhetoric (their claims) become obvious. Sodré does not say
that the modernists “intended” to destroy the dominant and the
consecrated literary sphere. The author affirms that they in fact did
“destroy everything in their path” (477). In other words, the mod-
ernists’ claims are taken at face value. In a study in which the au-
thor proposes to examine the economic basis of Brazilian literature,
the findings do not surpass formal categories, ideology, and intellec-
tual morality. The economic components, as well as the analysis of
other related historical data, remain in the background. The simple
mention of material conditions and other historical components
does not affect the overall appraisal of the literary period since So-
dré does not fully incorporate economic elements as conditions for
the possibility of a cultural movement of renovation. The author
briefly mentions the development of the press and of the book in-
dustry in Brazil, but he does not analyze in depth the correlation
between these infrastructural transformations and the emergence of

the modernist movement in the 1920s.15 Furthermore, in a clear act
of appropriation, Sodré asserts that the modernist movement was,
in the cultural arena, a manifestation of the same discontentment of
the middle classes that inspired the military and political movement
of Tenentismo, with which other military of his generation were in-
volved (476).16
The passages cited from Coutinho, Lima, and Sodré’s works al-
low us to observe that literary historiography’s appraisal of the
modernist movement coincides wholeheartedly with what the mod-
ernist intellectuals claimed about their own historical relevance. In
light of the impossibility of discursive neutrality or total impartiali-
ty, what is expected from the work of literary criticism and histori-
ography is a certain distance from its object of study. In other
words, the problem with the discourses of literary historiography
on Modernism lies not in the fact that they took the side of the
modernists, but in the fact that critical distancing is virtually aban-
doned in favor of reproduction. Literary historians take the core of
modernist manifestoes at face value. It is by ritualizing the so-called
modernist rupture that this discourse performs the task of self-legit-
imation.
In its impetus to define Modernism as a revolution, this body of
literary historiography oversimplifies literature as a whole and ob-
scures other dimensions of the conflicts between the new and the
old generation. This scholarship is also responsible for a great deal
of prejudice and cultural amnesia with regard to the literature pro-
duced during the Belle Époque. This period, which was seen as a
low point in Brazilian intellectual life up until the 1970s, was in fact
very rich and marked the beginning of the modernization of the
cultural and literary spheres in Brazil. However, the analysis of the
modernity of the Belle Époque does not fit the scope of my project.
Since the early 1980s, several studies by Flora Sussekind, Nicolau
15
Sodré’s data is also imprecise because it refers to a much larger period of
time than that of Modernism.
16
The Tenentista movement is considered middle-class manifestation among
the military. It started in São Paulo in 1922 and it spread throughout the country. In
Rio de Janeiro the tenentista movement manifested in the Revolta dos 18 do Forte de
Copacabana in which seditious lieutenants marched against the government. Also
considered part of Tenentismo were the Revolução de 1924, the Comuna de Manaus,
and the Coluna Prestes. For more on the subject, see Forjaz, Tenetismo e política.
Sevcenko, Francisco Foot Hardman, Elias Thomé Saliba, and

others have shed new light into the work of some forgotten writers
of the Belle Époque, showing also how complex, diverse, and mod-
ern this literary production was.17
Literary historiography in Brazil still remains predominantly
formalist. As a result these histories of Brazilian literature tend to
perpetuate a limited and homogenizing view of the literary phe-
nomenon. This body of scholarship has elided a great deal of histo-
ry as well as the politics involved in the process of legitimation of
Modernism. The 1950s body of literary historiography not only
canonized Modernism as the summit of Brazilian intellectual histo-
ry but it also gained legitimacy by reaffirming the greatness of the
modernist legacy. In the 1950s there were no publications in literary
history that contradict this view. This is a classic case in which the
imposition of a formalistic view of the literary phenomenon served
the political and ideological agenda of those who were invested in
the canonization of Modernism. Literary historiography imposed a
centralized view of Brazilian literature in which Modernism repre-
sents the historical moment of achievement of a truly emancipated
status. The argument of rupture as a marker of emancipation re-
mained as a core principle even in less traditional views of literature
developed subsequently in Brazil, which I will examine next.
MODERNISM AND RESISTANCE: A “TRADITION OF RUPTURE”
After the consolidation of the institutionalized metanarrative of

Modernism in the 1950s, the discourse and methods of literary his-
toriography in subsequent decades remained, by and large, unal-
17
Sevcenko’s study is both a historical account of the Belle Époque and an
analysis of the works of Euclides da Cunha and Lima Barreto. Sussekind’s Cine-
matógrafo is a study about the revolutionizing technology introduced at that time
and how this technology affects the style, production and circulation of literature.
Hardman’s study is about the working class and anarchist literary output in São
Paulo from the late 1800s to 1922. Saliba’s study is about the humoristic literary
output of that era from the early 1900s to the first radio programs of the 1930s.
There are many other relevant studies about authors of the Belle Époque available
now, but the above are among the earliest and, in spite of the great disparity among
them, these studies define literature more broadly, including texts and forms that
are usually not included in canonical studies, such as chronicles, newspaper
columns, ads, and satirical comic strips.
tered, while literary criticism as a whole develops into many distinct

branches.18 The only radically new approach to the traditional di-
achronic structure of historiography was put forth by members of
the poesía concreta movement, the Noigandres group. This group
was formed initially by the Campos brothers, Haroldo and Augus-
to, along with Décio Pignatari. Their earliest essays on literature al-
so appeared in the mid-1950s. However, it is in the 1960s and 70s
that their methods for a renewal of historiography and an alterna-
tive view of the canon start to influence academic discourse.19 In
this group, the most active in literary criticism were the Campos
brothers. Their mode of criticism20 is based on Oswald de An-
drade’s concept of anthropophagy and also influenced by Mikhail
Bakhtin’s dialogism and the carnivalesque; the Campos brothers
proposed thinking of the national in a dialogical relationship with
dominant European culture.21 In this dialogical relationship be-
tween the third world and Europe, the Campos brothers see a tense
power struggle in which the dominated devours the dominant:
A mandíbula devoradora desses novos bárbaros vem . . . “arrui-

nando” desde muito uma herança cultural cada vez mais planetá-
ria . . . sua investida excentrificadora e desconstrutora funciona
com o ímpeto marginal da antitradição carnavalesca, dessacrali-
18
These conventional literary histories published in the 1960s and 70s include
the previously cited works by Martins, Bosi, Castello, and Moisés, which do not sig-
nificantly alter the methods or the views expressed in the historiography of the
1950s.
19
Their first essays about literature start to appear in 1956 in the Jornal do
Brasil. In the 1960s and 70s they contribute their most influential essays about Os-
wald de Andrade and incorporate Oswald’s cannibalism as a method. For more on
their bibliography, see Teoria 175-92.
20
Augusto de Campos’s Poesia, antipoesia, antropofagia contains essays about
Guimarães Rosa, Mário Faustino, Gregório de Matos, and Oswald de Andrade.
These are the same authors to which his brother, Haroldo, frequently refers in sev-
eral of his theoretical and programmatic texts. The Campos brothers articulate sim-
ilar ideas and utilize the same theoretical framework. Therefore, I will summarize
their ideas based on Haroldo’s “A razão antropofágica” and A ruptura dos gêneros
in order to simplify subsequent references to their ideas.
21
Oswald’s “Manifesto antropófago” (1928) [“Cannibalist Manifesto”] pre-
scribes the critical appropriation or “mastication” of the colonizer’s discourse in a
gesture of cultural defiance. For more details, see Nunes, “A antropofagia ao al-
cance de todos.” Bakhtin’s concept of dialogism appears in The Dialogic Imagina-
tion. The themes of carnival and the grotesque are interpreted as defiant of the so-
cial order and were developed in Bakhtin’s reading of Rabelais’ Gargantua and
Pantagruel, published in Rabelais and His World.
zante, profanadora evocada por Bakhtine . . . a transenciclopédia

carnavalizada dos bárbaros, onde tudo pode coexistir com tudo
(“Da razão antropofágica” 22).
The devouring jaw of these new barbarians have been . . . “ruin-

ing” for a long time an increasingly planetary cultural heritage . . .
its excentrifying and decontructive attack functions with the
marginal impetus of the desacralizing, profane carnivalesque an-
titradition evoked by Bakhtin . . . the carnivalized transencyclope-
dia of the new barbarians, where everything can coexist with
everything.
Against the diachronic linearity of traditional historicism, this dis-

course conceives of the relationship between past and present in art
and literature as a synchronic phenomenon.22 It also challenges
geopolitical demarcations that tend to compartmentalize literary
production into national canons and define third-world literatures
as passive imitations of European models. One of the principles ar-
ticulated in this discourse is that, in spite of being economically in-
ferior, third-world nations can still achieve high levels of cultural
development and have always produced world-class cultural arti-
facts (“Da razão antropofágica” 10).
The Brazilian authors included in this highly selective “universal
canon” are the ones who were able to attain formal innovation at its
highest level. For instance, the authors Haroldo de Campos cites
more frequently as examples of originality, invention, and critical
devouring are Gregório de Matos, Sousândrade, José de Alencar,
Oswald de Andrade, Guimarães Rosa, Clarice Lispector, and the
Mário de Andrade of Macunaíma.23 This canon also includes au-
thors from other Latin American countries such as Julio Cortázar,
Jorge Luis Borges, Octavio Paz, Vicente Huidobro, and others.
Haroldo de Campos sees these authors as part of a “carnivalesque
antitradition” that systematically transgresses European values (22).
In spite of its defiant view of cultural imperialism, this discourse
is based on the argument of certain universal standards of technical
22
The same argument of simultaneity is reinforced in Haroldo’s Ruptura dos
gêneros 74.
23
Haroldo considers Macunaíma to be Mário de Andrade’s masterpiece be-
cause it represents, in his view, the best example of a cannibalistic text. See Cam-
pos, Ruptura 30-32.
excellence and innovation of high literature that still seem to be es-

tablished in Europe or in developed societies. The standards for
“universal” canon are set by authors such as Stéphane Mallarmé,
James Joyce, Guillaume Apollinaire, and Ezra Pound, whose im-
portance derives from high technical standards and the innovation
of their language. Therefore, this canon is made up of mostly eru-
dite experimental prose and poetry. In this view, the only relevant
literature produced in the cultural periphery is that which trans-
gresses the formal conventions of a previously established model. It
is still a position of dependency, despite the attitude of insubordina-
tion of the “New Barbarians.”
Roberto Schwarz argues that anthropophagy has led to a tri-
umphalist view of Brazil’s backwardness, as Oswald de Andrade at-
tempts to turn economic and cultural deficiencies into a path of
development that would lead to a post-bourgeois utopia (“Nation-
alism by elimination” 7). By reviving anthropophagy as a theoretical
and critical approach, the Campos brothers also display a similar
triumphalist view of cultural dependency. With all due respect for
their superb and erudite work as critics, translators, and poets, their
formalist and overenthusiastic view of cultural cannibalism, in spite
of its defiant attitude, ends up accommodating to the very unbal-
anced cultural exchange it refutes. They are correct in pointing out
that third-world intellectual production should not be regarded as
inferior copies of an “original” European source. Their work offers
important insight with regard to the aesthetic procedures of the au-
thors they study. However, the attribution of a redemptive political
value to aesthetic innovation obfuscates many other issues involved
in the cultural exchanges between center and periphery. Sérgio
Bellei sees in the Campos brothers’ optimistic view of third-world
literatures’ new position as exporters of culture a facile compen-
satory palliative to underdevelopment: “Permanently incapable of
competing with the first world politically or economically, third
world nations can at least flatter themselves that they are capable of
producing first class cultural artifacts” (Bellei 104).
The Campos brothers’ radical critique of diachronic historicism
constitutes yet another totalizing narrative that has all the features
of a metanarrative, as defined by Lyotard. Although their discourse
does not come from within an institutionalized space, their concept
of literary history is based on a narrative of emancipation that uti-
lizes key concepts derived from Brazilian Modernism (specifically
from Oswald de Andrade’s manifestos) as a legitimizing platform.

However, their historicism seeks to transcend national boundaries
to make even bolder claims regarding the emancipation of third
world literatures in a global context. This totalizing narrative is also
self-legitimizing, as the Noigandres group of concrete poets place
themselves as one of the key moments in the history of literature:
“O movimento da poesia concreta . . . exportou idéias e formas. É o
primeiro movimento literário brasileiro a nascer na dianteira da ex-
periência artística mundial” (Campos, Campos, and Pignatari 7)
[The concrete poetry movement . . . exported ideas and forms. It is
the first Brazilian literary movement to be born at the forefront of
the global artistic experience.]. In general, their discourse appears
to sublimate all the frustrated desires for development in broader
terms through this compensatory celebration of third-world literary
and artistic innovation.
The formal premise that informs the Campos brothers’ view of
the literary phenomenon, and of Modernism in particular, influ-
enced many other critics in the 1970s and 80s. The recurrent argu-
ment of the modernist rupture with the past is based on a rigid for-
malist conceptualization of discursive strategies and formal
procedures commonly used by modernists. Criticism in Brazil has
often emphasized the particularities of the poetic and fictional lan-
guage and forms commonly employed by modernist authors as the
expression of their rupture with traditional literary discourse. Russ-
ian Formalism, New Criticism, Semiotics, and Structuralism are
among the theoretical frameworks that searched for the specific in
literary language. These modes of criticism were still highly influen-
tial in Brazil during the 1970s and 80s and, in the analysis of the
modernist rupture with tradition and with academic literary dis-
course form, they often took precedence over other aspects of the
text. Discursive strategies and artistic procedures widely used by
modernist writers such as irony and parody receive special attention
from this line of criticism and are usually interpreted as intrinsically
oppositional in relation to the historical past and to literary conven-
tions.
Even critics who admit and attempt to account for the way the
modernist texts also affirm the discourse tradition tend to employ a
formalist argument. In a 1972 essay titled “Modernismo: As poéti-
cas do centramento e do descentramento,” Affonso Romano de
Sant’Anna calls attention to the heterogeneity of the modernist po-
etic and fictional languages and the distinct ways they relate to the
discourse of history and tradition. Sant’Anna considers parody one
of the formal strategies of resistance, or what the author called “de-
scentramento” [decentering]. Parody, in Sant’Anna’s view, relates
to tradition through distancing, as it is the language of exclusion, of
marked difference, and of the excluded. The author states that par-
ody inverts and dislocates the parodied text, denouncing its under-
lying ideology (59). Therefore, Sant’Anna conceives of parody as
disapproving of the dominant discourse with which it establishes a
dialogue. It is implied in this definition that parody always intrinsi-
cally carries out this critique of the parodied text. Sant’Anna af-
firms that paraphrase and descriptive mimesis also establish a dia-
logical relationship with other texts, but it in these cases it is a
relationship of continuity (59). Sant’Anna’s arguments are ground-
ed on Michel Foucault’s notion of decentering of the subject of
which parody is considered a prime example.24 The author argues
against notions of individual genius and in favor of the recognition
of dialogue and plurality of voices in the modernist discourse.
However, Sant’Anna still utilizes a rigid formal argument in order
to combat the homogeneous manner by which criticism had ad-
dressed modernist aesthetics.
A similar explanation for the use of parody in the complex rela-
tionship between modernist texts and the discourse of tradition ap-
pears in Silviano Santiago’s 1985 essay “Permanência do discurso
da tradição.” Santiago also argues that elements of tradition consti-
tute a significant part of modernist discourse. The author makes a
distinction between the use of parody, which represents an aesthet-
ics of rupture, and a simple activation, without irony, of the dis-
course of tradition (98). Santiago’s essay was one of the first to at-
tempt to provide an alternative to the old argument of the
modernist rupture. However, the author interprets parody exclu-
sively within the framework of oppositional and subversive politics
on the part of the parodist and ironist: “A paródia, ao fazer a ironia
dos valores do passado, faz com que o presente rompa as amarras
com o passado, cortando a linha da tradição” (107). [Parody, by
24
Starting with his analysis of Don Quixote in The Order of Things 46-77, and
in several other studies in which he questions notions of authorship, Foucault elects
parody as a prime mode of expression in the questioning of the subject-centered
reason. For more on Foucault’s reading of parody see Hutcheon, Theory of Parody
2-4, 20, 87.
making irony of the values of the past, makes the present break
with the ties of the past, cutting the line of tradition.]. Santiago im-
plies that the only instance where there can be an affirmative atti-
tude with regard to tradition in the modernist discourse is outside
of the scope of irony or parody. In this definition parody and irony
have a fixed and univocal function in spite of their destabilizing ef-
fects. Therefore, despite the author’s effort to break away from the
constraints of aesthetic criticism, this definition of parody reinstates
the prevalence of formal over semantic and pragmatic aspects of the
text.
In the revival of Oswald de Andrade’s work promoted at first
by the Noigandres group, most notably by the Campos brothers,25
parody takes center stage as the subversive mode of expression par
excellence. Other scholars who study the work of Oswald de An-
drade, such as Lúcia Helena, Maria Eugênia Boaventura, and Maria
Eleutério also apply similar definitions of parody.26 One of the main
problems with such argument is that it gives parody a fixed func-
tion and it almost pre-empts the analysis of any text that could be
deemed parodic. This preconceived notion of the function of paro-
dy does not allow for a differentiated examination of the interplay
between parody and the parodied text. It also simplifies the rela-
tionship of the parodic discourse with past literary traditions and
with history.
This attribution of oppositional meaning to parody and irony, as
well as the automatic correlation between parody and rupture with
the discourse of tradition, is still quite common. According to Lin-
da Hutcheon, the function of critical ridicule remains the most
common argument in standard definitions of parody, despite an
abundance of examples in which parody functions in a serious and
respectful manner (Theory of Parody 51). There has been a valoriza-
tion of parody because of a renewed interest in issues of intertextu-
25
Décio Pignatari also contributed to the revival of Oswald de Andrade’s
work. The entire program of poesía concreta relied on some key concepts devel-
oped by Oswald de Andrade’s concise and visual poetry as an example for their
own poetry.
26
In recent criticism of Oswald de Andrade’s work, for instance, the influence
of the Campos brothers’ reading of Oswald’s work is pervasive. The predominant
view of parody in this kind of criticism emphasizes exclusively its functions of defi-
ance of historical discourse, anti-illusionism, and deconstruction. See Boaventura, A
vanguarda antropofágica 22; Helena 66, Eleutério 82, 87, Oliveira 102-04.
ality, which Hutcheon dates back to New Criticism and Structural-

ism. Influenced by the work of Bakhtin, post-structuralist thinkers
such as Michel Foucault, Roland Barthes, Julia Kristeva, and others
have reexamined parody as a mode of expression that is dialogical
and self-questioning in order to re-examine and challenge notions
of authorship, creative genius, and subject-centered reason (75, 87).
There are many distinct kinds of parody, and reading irony and
parody exclusively from an oppositional framework reduces these
discursive strategies to only one of their many functions. Linda
Hutcheon’s theoretical studies on parody and irony provide a com-
plex model for explaining both. In A Theory of Parody Hutcheon
builds upon existing conceptualizations of this self-reflexive mode
of expression, focusing primarily on modern and contemporary us-
es of parody. Instead of imposing a pre-established definition of
parody as a fixed form, Hutcheon examines a variety of examples
taken from music, visual arts, literature, architecture, and popular
culture to conclude that there is a “wide range of pragmatic ethos”
in the deployment of parody (50-68). Hutcheon rejects both the
Romantic scorn for parody and recent interpretations that see paro-
dy exclusively as a mode of critical difference and ridicule. The au-
thor argues that parody serves a variety of purposes, since it can be
“a method of inscribing continuity while permitting critical dis-
tance. It can, indeed, function as a conservative force in both re-
taining and mocking other aesthetic forms; but it is also capable of
transformative power in creating new syntheses” (20). One of
Hutcheon’s main arguments is that parody involves more than the
process of encoding a text inside another. There are pragmatic
functions of parody that cannot be disregarded. The context and
the role of the interpreter in decoding the double-voiced discourse
of parody are just as important as the formal codes involved in the
process. The intended ethos of parody can range from reverential
and respectful to scornful and disdainful. Parody can also be play-
ful and almost neutral (63). Another important observation
Hutcheon makes is that the “target” of parody’s critique may not
always be the parodied text (50). Parody is paradoxically a form of
“authorized transgression” as it both contests the parodied text and
gains legitimacy from it (77).
With regard to irony, Hutcheon’s Irony’s Edge also builds upon
existing definitions in order to provide a historical panorama of
how both the definitions and the uses of irony have evolved over
time. Hutcheon argues that irony, more than any other rhetorical
strategy or figure of language, has what the author calls a “political
edge” (10). Irony provokes a certain amount of uneasiness because
it is never quite clear what the target of its critique may be.
Hutcheon argues, based on Hayden White’s definition of irony,27
that the political edge of irony is “transideological.” Irony can func-
tion to support a wide range of political positions. It can legitimize
or challenge a variety of interests: “Irony can be provocative when
its politics are conservative or authoritarian as easily as when its
politics are oppositional and subversive: it depends on who is us-
ing/attributing it and at whose expense it is seen to be” (15). Irony
should not be equated with radical politics or radical aesthetic in-
novation (10). From the realization that irony is not self-contained,
that it has no intrinsic characteristics, and that it has no fixed ideol-
ogy, Hutcheon recognizes the need to expand the traditional for-
malistic theoretical model that defines irony as something that is
simply coded in the text. The author sees irony not as something
that already exists in the text, but something that “happens” in the
process of interpretation, emphasizing the reader’s active role in at-
tributing meaning. From the point of view of the ironist, there is no
guarantee that irony will be understood or even recognized, which
makes irony a “risky business” (9-36). Hutcheon’s model in the
studies of both parody and irony is multi-dimensional, including
formal, semantic, pragmatic and hermeneutic aspects that affect the
interaction between the reader and the text.
In the analysis of the modernist poetry included in the second
part of this book, I apply some of Hutcheon’s precepts in order to
emphasize the complexity of the relationship with the past ex-
pressed in Mário de Andrade and Oswald de Andrade’s poetry of
the 1920s, especially in these authors’ incursion into aesthetics or
primitivism. I contend that the activation of the discourse of tradi-
tion occurs in an affirmative way even in the context of parody and
when irony can be recognized. The poetic discourse in the poems
analyzed establishes both continuity and discontinuity with the past
and with conventional literary forms. The discourse of tradition and
history is reworked with critical distance but not entirely discarded.
27
Hutcheon refers to Hayden White’s definition of irony in Metahistory.
AESTHETIC EXPERIMENTATION AND THE MODERNIST DISCOURSE OF

ORIGINS
The “transideological” aspect of form and rhetorical strategies,

and the non-correlation between formal experimentation and sub-
versive politics, has already been acknowledged in previous studies
about the avant-garde. The debate around avant-garde aesthetics
further complicates the relationship between the most widely de-
ployed self-reflexive artistic procedures and forms (i.e. fragmenta-
tion, collage, montage, parody, irony, ellipsis), and their appropria-
tion to support multiple political and ideological facets. Because
form was such a prominent issue for the various avant-garde mani-
festations and sub-currents, the scholarship on the subject has paid
special attention to the non-alignment between aesthetics, politics,
and ideology.
Renato Poggioli was one of the first scholars to theorize the his-
torical avant-garde. The author offers an empirical examination of
the complex and slippery relationship between ideology and form.
Poggioli identifies a serious flaw in the manner by which most crit-
ics tended to associate avant-garde art with political radicalism,
placing a wide range of political and ideological positions under a
general progressive social and political force: “the hypothesis ... that
aesthetic radicalism and social radicalism, revolutionaries in art and
revolutionaries in politics are allied, which empirically seems valid,
is theoretically and historically erroneous” (95). With this observa-
tion, Poggioli opened the path for critical analyses that could no
longer assume that the adjective “revolutionary” in art and litera-
ture belonged exclusively to the left, or that aesthetic radicalism
equated with political and social radicalism or progressiveness.
Similar arguments appear in Peter Bürger’s theoretical study of
the avant-garde. Bürger sees no validity in ascribing fixed political
meaning to a given set of aesthetic procedures. The techniques and
materials employed were essential as a means to an end. As an ex-
ample of how the same aesthetic procedure could be used to sup-
port radically distinct political causes, the author cites a case in
which montage was used by Italian futurists, who supported a fas-
cist state, and by the Russian avant-garde who was developing a so-
cialist society (78). Bürger’s well-known argument is that the avant-
garde attacks “art as an institution” and in this regard the
fragmented, “nonorganic” work of art played an important role

(57). However, the political and ideological makeup of the various
avant-garde movements harbored a wide variety of positions and
the techniques and styles utilized by these artists cannot be inter-
preted in a historical succession but as a “simultaneity of the widely
disparate” (63).
The fragmented language, techniques, and the artistic proce-
dures of nonorganic avant-garde works were also utilized for artis-
tic ends and to fulfill nationalistic agendas in the cultural periphery.
This assimilation of multiple styles and ideologies often translated
into contradictory and paradoxical programs for national identity.
In Brazil and in other Latin American countries, it was the various
forms of primitivism of the avant-garde movements that more
markedly influenced the nationalist programs and the most impor-
tant fictional and poetic output of the avant-garde movements in
the 1920s. This nationalist discourse utilizes a highly self-reflective,
ironic, and fragmented language, as well as nonorganic structures,
which emphasizes the heterogeneous and discontinuous elements
that make up its substance. This nonorganic structure always con-
flicts with the nationalist discourse’s own totalizing ambitions.
Octavio Paz’s previously cited essay, “La tradición de la rup-
tura” offers invaluable insights into the nature of the various forms
and meanings of rupture in modern poetry. Paz recognizes that
modernity is a polemical tradition that constantly seeks to dislodge
the dominant tradition, only to establish another tradition: “La
tradición de la ruptura implica no solo la negación de la tradición
sino también de la ruptura” (17) [The tradition of rupture implies
not only the negation of tradition but also of the rupture.]. Modern
literature, according to Paz, always expresses this yearning for true
presence and the connection with distinct temporalities of primor-
dial times to counteract the degradation caused by the sense of ac-
celeration of time in modernity (22-37).
The various manifestations of primitivism in the avant-garde
movements mark exactly this desire to reconnect with ancestral
temporalities to combat the dehumanizing aspects of modernity.
But primitivism was, and still is, a polemical cultural phenomenon.
Scholars such as Marianna Torgovnick see it as a projection of Eu-
rocentric cultural constructs instead of substantial knowledge about
non-Western primitive societies, which led to racial, ethnic, and
gender stereotypes (Gone Primitive 3-41). This projection of the
European gaze, or a tendency to exoticize the non-European ele-

ments of the culture, can be also detected within nationalist dis-
courses produced in the cultural periphery.
There are many forms of primitivism, and most of the avant-
garde sub movements incorporated multiple aspects of the primi-
tive. There is the intellectual and formal primitivism of Cubism and
Surrealism. Eric Camayd-Freixas distinguishes also between “idyl-
lic” primitivism, which idealizes serenity and innocence, and “mor-
bid” primitivism, which draws from the grotesque and the brutal as
part of the liberating force of primitive forms. The author also
draws a distinction between two interrelated forms of primitivism:
“psychological” primitivism, which focuses on the individual, and
“social” primitivism, concerned with the anthropological and the
tribal (“Introduction” ix). These kinds of primitivism are rarely
found in isolation. Usually, a given work mixes influences from di-
verse forms of primitivism.
While the “native” element of the Latin American avant-garde
may have seemed new and exotic to the European public, these au-
tochthonous motifs were not exactly a novelty for intellectuals and
artists in Latin America. Romanticism, both in Europe and in the
periphery, had incorporated autochthonous elements into the lexi-
con of high art and literature since the mid-1800s. The novelty for
the Latin American artist in the 1920s was primarily the avant-
garde technique. Antonio Candido argues that primitivism was
more congenial to Brazilian modernists than to European artists be-
cause primitive cultures were still part of daily life in Brazil, not
something exogenous or found in the remote past. Candido argues
that modernists assimilated the European techniques by means of a
“mergulho no detalhe brasileiro” [dive into the Brazilian detail]
(Literatura e sociedade 121). The argument implies that primitivism
in Brazil was something more authentic than that of the European
avant-garde. Candido fails to address the fact that this interest in
the primitive only came after it had been dutifully authenticated in
European intellectual circles. By drawing from the autochthonous
of their own culture, the avant-garde movements in Latin America
were able to keep up-to-date with the latest European trends while
also satisfying the nationalistic demand for cultural authenticity.
Vicky Unruh considers the desire to “rehumanize art” one of
the common features of various Latin American avant-garde move-
ments of the 1920s (21-29). Unruh also points out the paradoxical
pursuit of discovery of the new through a return to an inaugural

event, or a ground zero experience. The activation of the discourse
of origins is meant to transform the familiar into the unknown (141-
50). There is both a drive to accept the cultural heritage and also to
cast it anew, to reinvent it. There is also a clear tendency to repre-
sent nations and even the entire American continent in its totality
(Unruh 159-69). The totalizing drive is, of course, contradicted by
the fragmented language and techniques deployed, which makes
this discourse both affirmative and self-consciously critical of such
totalizing representation of national or continental identities. The
paradoxes persist as avant-garde nationalist discourses are both af-
firming and questioning of the history and traditions it seeks to
reinvent.
The formal analysis of the avant-garde work in the various man-
ifestations of primitivism is essential for making sense of the com-
plex relationship of these texts with the history and traditions they
evoke. However, no matter how detailed it may be, the analysis of
the artistic procedures, techniques, and language is never sufficient
to determine the politics of a given text. The unstable, self-reflex-
ive, and ambivalent nature of the avant-garde language nullifies the
possibility of arguing broadly that a given text either destroys or
completely restores the historical discourse with which it dialogues.
Only the analysis of individual texts in a specific historical context
can elucidate which traditions are valued and which are discarded
or what attitudes prevail in a given text with regard to the myths re-
worked. It is also possible to determine the origin, the social posi-
tion from whence these discourses come. Each case has its own pe-
culiar features, even if similar forms and discursive strategies are
deployed.
In Brazil the modernist appropriation of avant-garde aesthetics
of primitivism marked the beginning of nationalist programs, which
activate various aspects of history, including notions of origin. One
of the recurrent tropes of the modernist discourse of origins is the
motif of the Bandeirante. This is a complex and ambivalent trope
that is often deployed not only to express a nationalist sentiment,
but also to reinforce the distinctiveness of a paulista identity. It is a
theme that supports a discourse heavily based on genealogy and
continuity with a noble past. Even in works not informed by primi-
tivism, the myth of bandeirismo frequently emphasizes the spirit of
entrepreneurship of both the ancestral and the modern day
paulista. In this respect, Fernando Rosenberg has observed that

primitivism has maintained “a certain degree of identification with
the colonizer” (69). Rosenberg also recognize that the “self-expan-
tionist spirit (usually symbolized by the bandeirante)...is a continu-
ity of the colonial expansion ... making the colonialismo a founda-
tional event of Brazil, thus justifying coloniality despite the violence
that it perpetrates (70). Also, in many of these texts certain ele-
ments of this regional tradition are valued, despite the ambiguous
and self-reflexive character of the language employed.
The contradictions and limitations of the discourse of origins
constitute the main focus of my analysis in the second part of this
study. I will analyze the works of Paulo Prado, Mário de Andrade,
and Oswald de Andrade with emphasis on the conflictive relation-
ship with modernity that is articulated in some of the important
works published in the mid-1920s. My choice of Paulo Prado,
Mário de Andrade, and Oswald de Andrade derives from the fact
that few studies explore the subtle relationship among these au-
thors. Many other authors of Modernism could be included in my
analysis; however, this would require a larger study which would
not fit the scope of my study. As specified in the introduction and
in the next chapter, the theme of bandeirismo is present in the
works of dozens of authors. In each case a different set of issues ap-
ply to specific works. The theme of bandeirismo is present in the
works of the three authors chosen for this study, although each au-
thor approaches it differently. In each chapter I examine how and
against what the discourse of origins reacts, what aspect of moder-
nity it supports, which moral values are reinforced and which are
criticized, and what are the political and economic issues that the
Bandeirante trope symbolizes.
Prado’s ideas and political views had a strong impact on the de-
velopment of the modernist movement. Prado’s take on national
identity was associated with São Paulo’s history. These ideas were
shared among many of the São Paulo modernists, including Mário
de Andrade and Oswald de Andrade, among others. However, the
topic rarely receives adequate consideration in the majority of the
scholarship on Modernism. For instance, the problematic relation-
ship between local identity and national identity expressed in the
trope of bandeirismo is rarely explored. The São Paulo group of
modernist intellectuals worked with themes and activated the his-
torical discourse in a distinct way from the rest of the modernists in
other cities and states. The discourse of origins of the paulistas con-
veys an anti-bourgeois sentiment. This can be identified not only in
aesthetic terms but also in terms of the non-aesthetic strategies em-
ployed to defy the market logic of bourgeois literature. This anti-
bourgeois attitude did not always translate into forward-looking
propositions or into a discourse that subverted the established or-
der. In the examples selected, I will emphasize the modernists’ dis-
course of cultural hegemony of São Paulo, which in many ways con-
flicts with its nationalist agenda.
The logistic aspect of the modernist movement in São Paulo,
the epicenter of the phenomenon in Brazil, was only possible
through the support received from private patronage. Prado is a
lesser studied author, while Mário de Andrade and Oswald de An-
drade receive extensive coverage in criticism. What I propose is not
a comparison between the essays of Paulo Prado and the poetry of
Mário and Oswald, but the establishment of ideological connec-
tions in the discourse of these three authors. Another aspect that is
rarely explored is Prado’s pivotal role as well as his possible motiva-
tions in supporting the modernist movement will be examined in
detail in the following chapter.
PART TWO
COUNTER-NARRATIVES
CHAPTER THREE
PAULO PRADO AND THE MODERNISTS:

PRIVATE PATRONAGE,
IDEOLOGY AND CULTURAL POLITICS
aulo Prado1 was the grand mécène of Brazilian Modernism.

P Without his support and that of other prominent members of
the São Paulo coffee aristocracy, the production and circulation of
avant-garde cultural products in the incipient cultural market of
São Paulo in the early 1920s would not have been possible.2 Yet, in
1
Paulo Prado was born in São Paulo, SP in 1869. He was a businessman, a
historian, an art collector, and one of the main promoters of the arts and literature
in São Paulo and Brazil during the 1920s. He was the oldest son of the Conselheiro
Antônio Prado, a major leader in the coffee business in the early 1900s in Brazil.
The Prados owned the Casa Prado-Chaves, one of the largest export companies in
Brazil. Paulo Prado was the manager of the company from 1894 to 1897, after his
father left the company and Paulo Prado assumed the presidency of the Casa Prado-
Chaves. The Prados were the official representatives of the coffee aristocracy. Paulo
Prado was also President of the Conselho Nacional do Café in the early 1930s. Along
with his father, he was the founder of the Partido Democrático in 1926. Prado died
in Rio de Janeiro in 1943 (Prado, Retrato do Brasil vii–ix). For additional biographi-
cal information on the Prado family and Paulo Prado’s management of the Prados’
businesses, see Levi 138–58.
2
Not only Paulo Prado, but also Olivia Guedes Penteado and Gilda Amaral
are often cited as supporters of the early modernist movement in São Paulo. The
Penteados and Amarais were not as deeply engaged in the cultural activities of the
early modernist movement as Paulo Prado was. For more on Prados’s and Pentead-
os’s patronage of Brazilian Modernism, see Miceli, Nacional estrangeiro; Sevcenko,
Orfeu extático; and Amaral. See also the Correspondência: Mário de Andrade and
Manuel Bandeira, which contains more than thirty references to Paulo Prado. Many
of the references to Prado in these letters had to do with his involvement with the
promotion of Modernism in the 1920s.
121
most historical accounts of the modernist movement in Brazil his

patronage usually does not receive the attention it deserves. Private
patronage helped to foster innovation in literature and the arts, par-
ticularly in São Paulo during the 1920s. This private patronage al-
lowed modernist writers and artists to take risks, defer profits, and
defy market constraints in order to make a stronger statement with
their art. Many literary critics acknowledge that Prado was involved
with the modernist cultural project, but few have actually investi-
gated the extent of the motives for his involvement with Mod-
ernism. Prado is usually depicted as a well-educated aristocrat who
had an appreciation for art and a desire to promote artists from São
Paulo. He was respected as an intellectual in his own right; he was a
scholar who achieved some prominence, especially after the publi-
cation of Retrato do Brasil (1928). Prado may be referred to as a
mentor to the São Paulo modernists and as an intellectual whose
views are generally considered to be congruent with the ideas put
forth by the Brazilian modernist movement. Prado concurred with
modernists especially with regard to what they saw as the need to
renew artistic and literary expression and to provide a political cri-
tique of the nation’s state of affairs at that time. However, Prado
produced mostly essays of historical, ideological and political inter-
est. His writings are not usually associated with notions of aesthetic
innovation in the modernist movement.
Prado remains one of the less studied authors of that era. If
compared to the volume of criticism devoted to writers such as
Mário de Andrade or Oswald de Andrade, the São Paulo intellectu-
als who were closely linked to Prado in the 1920s, criticism devoted
to Prado’s work is slight. The most comprehensive study of Prado’s
work is Carlos Berriel’s Tietê, Tejo, Sena: A obra de Paulo Prado,
which only appeared in 2000. Prado only published two books in
his entire life, and both came out in the 1920s: Paulística (1925) and
Retrato do Brasil. Paulística was a compilation of essays that Prado
had been publishing in the Estado de São Paulo newspaper since
1922 (Berriel 125). In 1934 Prado published a second edition of
this book, which included five additional essays and a new preface.3
3
I am using the 1934 edition of Paulística, because this is the most complete
version of the book. This edition contains six additional essays in comparison to the
first edition of 1925 and a second preface, written in 1934. The Portuguese used in
this edition precedes the orthographic reforms made to the language since then. I
will maintain the old spelling in my quotes of Paulística.
PAULO PRADO AND THE MODERNISTS 123
The essays compiled in this book represent, in Prado’s own words,

an attempt at a “regional history” of the state of São Paulo in colo-
nial times (Paulística iv). Other than these two books, Prado pub-
lished essays sparsely in newspapers such as the Estado de São Paulo
during the 1920s. These shorter texts were mostly essays on mod-
ernist artists4 or literary reviews published in the Revista do Brasil
or in Terra Roxa e Outras Terras (Berriel 101). He also published
the famous preface to Oswald de Andrade’s Pau-Brasil.
Despite the centrality of Paulo Prado as a strategist who offered
material, logistical, and symbolic support to the younger mod-
ernists, in the body of historiography and criticism about Mod-
ernism, his name tends to appear mostly as a background figure
whose support added respectability and sanction to the develop-
ment of Modernism in Brazil. This is, of course, the conventional
view of aesthetic criticism and historiography. Not much is said
about the extent of Prado’s involvement with the modernist move-
ment or the influence his ideas and views might have had on that
group of intellectuals. As an intellectual and historian, Prado is re-
membered mostly for Retrato do Brasil. This book is frequently
mentioned as representative of Prado’s lucid political and economic
criticism, but also for his overtly pessimistic prognosis for the coun-
try (Bosi, História concisa 425-6, Moisés 51-54).5
In this chapter I will demonstrate that Paulo Prado was much
more than a wealthy patron of Brazilian Modernism in the 1920s.
Among all those who were in some way connected to the modernist
4
Artists such as sculptor Victor Brecheret in “Brecheret,” an essay that ap-
peared in the Revista do Brasil, 1924; and poet Ronald de Carvalho in “Toda Améri-
ca,” an essay that appeared in Terra Roxa e Outras Terras, 1926 (Berriel 119). For a
transcription of the essay on Brecheret, see Berriel 227–31. The essay on Ronald de
Carvalho was not transcribed by Berriel. Cecília de Lara provides an annotated en-
try for this essay explaining that Paulo Prado situated Carvalho’s poetry as a repre-
sentative of a special kind of “brasileirismo.” Prado dismissed the Romantic ap-
proach to nationalism as a mere imitation of European models. Prado celebrated
Carvalho’s poetry as the beginning of a new and original discourse of national iden-
tity (Lara 287).
5
In many other canonical studies, the work of Paulo Prado is not even men-
tioned. For instance, in Amora, História da literatura brasileira, Coutinho, A lite-
ratura no Brasil and Introdução, and Candido & Castello, Presença da literatura
brasileira there are no entries for Prado as an author. Even Mário da Silva Brito’s
História do modernismo brasileiro, which covers the background events leading up
to the Week of Modern Art, fails to mention Paulo Prado as one of the organizers
of the event.
movement, Prado was the one who had the highest level of eco-
nomic, political, and cultural capital to invest in cultural enterprises
of this magnitude. Paulo Prado should be credited as one of the
main planners: the man with a vision for the transformation of the
high-culture milieu in São Paulo, which had repercussions all over
the nation. I will also explore some of the historical, ideological, po-
litical, and economic issues that influenced not only Paulo Prado’s
but the coffee aristocracy’s support of the modernist movement. I
will start by situating the social and economic basis of Modernism
in Brazil in order to dispel some incorrect associations that have
been made between Modernism and the process of industrialization
in São Paulo. I will substantiate this argument with a brief historical
overview of the economic and political issues that affected the cof-
fee aristocracy in São Paulo during the 1920s. Next, I will explain
Paulo Prado’s strategies in his role as leader and representative of
the coffee aristocracy. Then I will explain some of the forms of
sponsorship with which Prado was involved and their importance
in the development of Modernism in São Paulo and in Brazil. In the
last sections to this chapter I will provide an analysis of Prado’s two
books: Paulística and Retrato do Brasil.
THE SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC BASIS OF THE MODERNIST MOVEMENT

INSÃO PAULO
The academic and poetic apparatuses that supported the pro-

gressive and emancipatory outlook of Brazilian Modernism have
hidden the broader historical horizon behind the inception of the
movement in Brazil. The early modernist movement of the 1920s
has been treated as a local grassroots cultural movement that grew
into something bigger and entered the mainstream. Modernism, in
this view, transformed Brazilian culture by challenging Eurocentric
dogmas about third-world culture. As I argue in chapter two, this
image of “progressivism” and defiance, partially created by the
rhetoric of modernist intellectuals themselves, proved to be the
most enticing aspect of the modernist enterprise for literary critics
in consolidating the outlook of the metanarrative of Brazilian Mod-
ernism.
In recent attempts to escape formalism and to provide a materi-
alist interpretation of Modernism in Brazil, there has been also
some confusion as to which social class was closest to the modernist

movement in Brazil. Early Modernism is sometimes seen as a result
of, or as a discourse in favor of, the small-scale industrialization that
had been taking place in São Paulo since the early 1900s, and, when
the topic is industrialization, the economic concept of “import sub-
stitution”6 enters the discussion because of its historical concomi-
tance with the early years of Brazilian Modernism. The elites ideo-
logically connected to the early phase of Modernism in Brazil
inaccurately receive praise for consciously practicing these econom-
ic policies since the early 1920s. This argument informs, for exam-
ple, George Yúdice’s essay, “Rethinking the Theory of the Avant-
Garde from the Periphery.” Yúdice sketches out a materialist
definition for Brazilian Modernism and addresses the issue of the
modernist association with elite groups and the formulation of a
discourse for a hegemonic cultural project. Yet, Yúdice gives mod-
ernists credit for something that neither intellectuals nor the eco-
nomic elites of the time deserve:
The Brazilian avant-garde emerged in São Paulo. The elites of

this city had recently adopted a policy of import substitution,
which would make sense within the context of interwar years.
Both the political economy and the modernistas were strongly
nationalist.. . . [It] was modernismo that provided the language of
this emergent discourse required for a transformation in hege-
mony . . .. it is the “language of development,” of “construção
brasileira,” which would imprint itself on the emerging culture.
(66-67)
The passage brings literary and economic theories into the analysis
of Modernism in Brazil, but it is full of inconsistencies. The author
makes a number of assumptions that, in spite of their plausible ma-
6
Import Substitution or Import Substituting Industrialization (ISI) is econom-
ic jargon used to refer to the process of industrialization in peripheral economies or
Less Developed Countries (LDCs). It is accepted that this process of substituting
imported goods for national counterparts happened first and foremost in small in-
dustries. It is also accepted that this process occurred initially without government
planning or support. The term was invented after the fact and was at the core of the
Dependency Theories of the 1950s, whose main proponents in Latin America were
Raúl Prebish and Celso Furtado. It is still widely accepted that substituting imports
helped reduce these nations’ dependency on foreign goods. See Baer 179-80. For
more on the argument that Import Substitution was not part of state policies until
the 1940s, see Montecinos & Markoff 107-11, Love, Crafting the Third World 120.
terialist claims, end up reinforcing the traditional view of Mod-

ernism. The main problem here is that Yúdice connects Modernism
to the ruling classes, but oversimplifies the definition of “elite,” as if
the various sectors of São Paulo’s ruling classes shared similar inter-
ests. Furthermore, the passage above suggests that the São Paulo
elites could be indiscriminately referred to as supportive of an
“emerging” discourse of hegemony. Also, by connecting Mod-
ernism with the economic theory of import substitution, Yúdice
connects the modernists with the emergent industrial bourgeoisie,
which is not the group that supported Modernism in the 1920s.
Mário de Andrade was more specific in his commentaries about
the connections between modernists and the coffee aristocracy. An-
drade not only admits receiving the support of the coffee aristocracy,
but also provides a brief explanation for the motivations of this elite
group for supporting an iconoclastic project of aesthetic renovation:
A aristocracia tradicional nos deu mão forte, pondo em evidên-

cia mais essa geminação de destino–também ela já então au-
tofagicamente destruidora, por não ter mais uma significação le-
gitimável. Quanto aos aristôs do dinheiro, esses nos odiavam no
princípio e sempre nos olharam com desconfiança. Nenhum
salão de ricaço tivemos, nenhum milionário estrangeiro nos acol-
heu. Os italianos, alemães, os israelitas se faziam de mais
guardadores do bom-senso nacional que Prados, Penteados e
Amarais. (O movimento modernista 41)
The traditional aristocracy offered us a strong hand, putting in

evidence this confluence of destiny–[the aristocracy] also was, by
then, autophagously [self-devouringly] destructive, because it no
longer had a significance that could be legitimate. As for the aris-
tocrats of money [the immigrant bourgeoisie], they hated us in
the beginning and have always looked upon us with suspicion.
No rich person’s salon would have us, no foreign millionaire
sheltered us. The Italians, Germans, [and] Jews took the role of
guardians of the national prudence more seriously than the Pra-
dos, Penteados and Amarais.
Certain questions arise from Andrade’s passage. For example, his

assertion of the aristocracy’s self-destructive impetus seems implau-
sible. The aristocracy’s support of Modernism could only be the op-
posite of a suicidal act. If it is true that by the 1920s the aristocracy
had lost its political “significance,” as Andrade argues, then their
instinctive reaction would have been to cling to power for as long as

they could, not to commit an act of public suicide. Though risky
and contradictory, the aristocracy’s support of the modernist move-
ment could not have been something intentionally self-defeating.
This support had, instead, characteristics of a self-promoting act
with political interests that were transferred into the symbolic realm
of high culture. It is significant, though, that Andrade recognizes
that the beginning of the aristocracy’s downfall coincides with their
involvement with the modernist movement. Based on his impres-
sions, Mário de Andrade establishes a clear distinction between the
attitude of the coffee aristocracy and that of the immigrant bour-
geoisie with regard to the value of art and literature. This character-
ization is obviously reductive, but Andrade sees that there was a rift
between the prevailing mentalities of these two elite groups. His re-
marks expose a class conflict that might have been at the core of the
aristocracy’s motivation in supporting the modernists. While An-
drade sees the immigrant bourgeoisie as conservative and old-fash-
ioned, he portrays the aristocracy as brave, open-minded, progres-
sive, and supportive of the arts. In what follows, I will further
explain the distinctions between these two elite groups, which were
highly interdependent but were still competing for hegemony in the
1920s.
THE POLITICAL AND THE ECONOMIC ELITES IN THE 1920S IN SÃO

PAULO
In his classic study of São Paulo’s industrialization, Warren

Dean proposed a distinction between two major entrepreneurial
groups in São Paulo, which is basically the same as that suggested
by Andrade in the quote above: the “industrial bourgeoisie” and
“the coffee planter aristocracy.”7 The industrialists in São Paulo
were mostly immigrants (most commonly Italians), while coffee
planters were “native.” Dean chose two of the most successful men
of the São Paulo elite to personify this dichotomy: Francisco
Matarazzo epitomized the immigrant industrialist, while Antônio
Prado, Paulo Prado’s father, represented the archetypical figure of
7
For a detailed distinction between the coffee planter elite and the immigrant
industrialist elite, see Dean 34-80.
the “native” planter. These two groups were related in complex

ways. The coffee trade and the incipient industrial activity were in-
terdependent; the coffee trade preceded and “begot industrializa-
tion” (Dean 3-8). In other words, the coffee boom was responsible
for generating growth, creating a consumer market, and implement-
ing the infrastructure that made small-scale industrialization viable.
Dean affirms that the planters actually founded manufacturing
firms that were eventually bought up by immigrants. Although
planters were outnumbered by immigrants in the industrial sector,
they never ceased to be interested in the manufacturing of con-
sumer goods (Dean 47).
By the 1920s the immigrant bourgeoisie controlled the majority
of the industrial sector. Although the conflicts of interest between
the industrial bourgeoisie and the coffee aristocracy were not signif-
icant enough to cause major political battles, the latter felt threat-
ened by the economic progress of immigrant industrialists:
To the planters, then, the wealth of a Matarazzo appeared fright-

eningly large and capable of unlimited ramification. Occasionally
they spoke of the industrialists as an “aristocracy of money,” an
“industrial plutocracy,” or even a “bunch of sharks.” When the
planters considered how frequently the new manufacturer was
an immigrant, they complained of foreigners who came over in
third class and “impoverished old families of the rural aristocra-
cy, genuinely Brazilian.” (Dean 68)
Even when it was not so clearly manifested, resentment against the

immigrant bourgeoisie took the form of a latent anxiety that out-
lived the business mergers and inter-marriage between these groups
(Dean 67-80). The assimilation of immigrants into Brazilian society
may have been easier than in North America, but it was not as de-
void of animosity as suggested by the prevailing social myth of
Brazilian openness, lack of prejudice, and racial democracy.8 Con-
tradictory feelings toward immigration were strong among the po-
8
Dean briefly compares the experiences of Italians in Brazil with the Irish and
the Jewish experience in the United States and concludes that the prejudice against
Italians in São Paulo was “insignificant” compared to the animosity toward immi-
grants among elites of Boston and other cities of the northern United States. Ac-
cording to Dean, the immigrant elites in the U.S. “struggled harder to acquire social
status than they did to get rich” (77).
litical elites. Although they believed that the European work force
was superior to the native one, they also felt threatened by the im-
migrant contingent (both working class and industrialists) that radi-
cally transformed the São Paulo social and cultural landscape.9
Besides homogenizing the concept of elite, Yúdice makes a ref-
erence to the “policy of import substitution,” which he claims was
put into practice by the elites of São Paulo in the 1920s. These mea-
sures, however, were only implemented the 1950s and 60s with the
growing influence of the economic ideas of the proponents of De-
pendency Theory. It is a stretch to consider these policies as part of
a nationalistic economic project implemented by the São Paulo elite
in the early 1920s. The reasoning is consistent, since the industrial
bourgeoisie was in fact operating by domestically producing cheap-
er goods that replaced imported ones; however the elites, especially
the political elites, had not elaborated an economic plan or devel-
oped an economic theory to support this kind of industrialization.
The focus of the economic policies of the time was on the export
sector of the economy, as I will explain below. By linking this policy
to a nationalistic ideology, Yúdice suggests a level of consciousness
and an underlying political structure that the immigrant bour-
geoisie could not have had at the time. Modernist intellectuals had
nothing to do with providing a discourse of legitimization for the
industrial bourgeoisie. The elite group most closely associated with
the modernists was the coffee aristocracy, a group linked mostly
with the export sector. The emerging immigrant bourgeoisie, which
was more directly linked to the industrialization of São Paulo, was
not involved in the cultural movement led by these intellectuals.10
Scholars of Latin American economic history of the twentieth
century have come to realize that import substitution was a reality
9
For an analysis of the planter elite belief in the European racial superiority
and its prejudice against the native population, see Dean 78-79. The recognition
that European workers were superior did not prevent discrimination against immi-
grants either. For an account of discrimination against Italians, see Carelli 64-69.
10
In fact, as Dean mentioned, the industrial bourgeoisie was often called the
“aristocracia do dinheiro” [the aristocracy of money], a term that modernists like
Mário de Andrade and Paulo Prado used to portray the bourgeoisie as a conserva-
tive and narrow-minded group incapable of understanding the highest aspirations
of the modernist literature and art. For these types of references, see Andrade, O
movimento modernista, 41; his poem “Ode ao burguês” [“Ode to the Bourgeois
Gentlemen”] , and also Prado’s essay “O caminho do mar” [The Way to the Sea] in
Paulística.
in the 1920s but not yet a government policy, nor was it exactly a
policy of the São Paulo political elite. As Joseph Love remarks, it
was only in the post-World War II context that developmentalist
policies, including import-substituting industrialization, became a
state economic policy: “Industrialization in Latin America was fact
before it was policy, and policy before it was theory” (Love, Craft-
ing the Third World 120). From the early 1900s until the 1930s, fed-
eral and state government economic policies focused almost exclu-
sively on the export economy, which, in Brazil, was dominated by
coffee. Import substitution, on the other hand, was a business strat-
egy used by the immigrant industrial bourgeoisie, but it was not
part of a well-developed nationalistic ideology. It was opportunism,
rather than ideology, that guided entrepreneurs in the early stages
of industrialization. Ironically, the São Paulo industrial bourgeoisie,
which played a pioneering and dynamic role in the country’s mod-
ernization, had no formal connections with the modernist move-
ment and its nationalist rhetoric. The industrialists’ savvy business
tactics (later defined and theorized as import substitution) should
not be understood as the manifestation of a conscious nationalistic
ideology. Immigrant industrialists saw an opportunity when they re-
alized that the internal market was inadequately supplied with man-
ufactured goods, while imported goods were too expensive.11 Since
there was no formal governmental incentive to industrialization,
they relied on the relative lack of market regulation and on knowl-
edge of immigrant consumer habits.12
São Paulo industrialists thrived in a market and infrastructure
essentially created by the coffee trade, and, as newcomers, they did
not have strong political representation. In a position of relative de-
pendency, industrialists avoided political or ideological confronta-
tion with the coffee planter elite. In fact, they tended to make al-
liances with the planter aristocracy (Dean 72-73). In the early 1900s
immigrant industrialists did not have a well-defined identity, and
their consciousness as a social group with distinctive interests was
tenuous. It was not until 1928 that industrialists formed the Center
11
For more about the inadequacy of the internal market supply of manufac-
tured goods, see Dean 9; and Montecinos & Markoff 108.
12
Dean argues that immigrant industrialists often started out as importers of
manufactured goods. Their knowledge of the market came from their experience
with imports. They started producing cheaper manufactured goods to substitute for
the pricier imports. See Dean 22-33.
of Industries of the State of São Paulo to strengthen their political

participation (Dean 141). Thus, it is highly unlikely that industrial-
ists or any other emerging group of entrepreneurs were associated
with cultural projects of national identity in the early 1920s.
The coffee aristocracy, as Dean asserts, was the group least like-
ly to favor social transformation. In fact, the coffee aristocracy’s
identity was based on values that stood in direct contrast with those
of the emerging social groups of São Paulo in the 1920s. In contrast
to the “self-made man” ethic of the arriviste immigrant, the São
Paulo coffee planter’s identity was based on genealogy (Dean 67).
Their wealth could not be traced back to colonial times, since the
coffee boom started around 1870, but the São Paulo aristocracy
preferred to be associated with a long line of Portuguese settlers,
the Bandeirantes. The myth of the pioneering entrepreneurship of
their Bandeirante ancestors gave them a “noble” pedigree, legitimiz-
ing their prominent position in the nation’s economy.
However, the Prados could not be considered a typical family of
the rural aristocracy. Since the late 1800s the family had worked to
diversify their portfolio and had already started to move beyond
production, branching out to other aspects of the coffee enterprise.
In 1887 they founded the Casa Prado-Chaves, a coffee export
house that became the most important Brazilian-owned company in
this sector. They also owned the Paulista Railway, and in 1892 they
bought the English-owned Rio Claro Railway (Levi 142). In 1890,
Antônio Prado opened the Banco Comércio e Indústria, which he
headed until 1920. By 1929 this bank was “second only to the Ban-
co do Brasil” (141). The Prado-Chaves export company was direct-
ly involved with the Companhia Paulista de Imigração, created by
Paulo Prado’s uncle, Martinico Prado, in 1886 (76). The company
was responsible for the massive entrance of immigrant labor into
Brazil. As Geraldo Ferraz remarks, the Prados exported coffee and
imported immigrant labor (Ferraz xi; Levi 76-7). Therefore, by the
time Paulo Prado assumed leadership of the family business in the
late 1800s, it had already become a large capitalist conglomerate
with many branches. The Prado-Chaves company acted like a hold-
ing company for the family. Though their farms tended to become
corporate agribusinesses, they were always treated as family enter-
prises: “The Prado’s conglomerate ... was more a loose federation
with a strong sense of ‘states’ rights’ than an empire” (155).
According to Levi, Prado-Chaves was also very close to the state

government and the company became almost a semiofficial state in-
stitution (145). This status was acquired because of the adoption, in
1906, of “valorization policies” to support coffee prices in the inter-
national market. The Prados were, thus, directly involved with this
controversial scheme. Throughout the entire República Velha peri-
od (1889-1930), the basic principles of Liberalism (as practiced in
Brazil) were rarely challenged. The government’s policies favored
the export economy and presented no domestic projects for indus-
trialization. Early industrialists practiced import substitution in de-
fiance of official economic policies, with no nationalist ideology at-
tached to it. On the other hand, the only unorthodox protectionist
policy adopted by the Brazilian government during that period was
the policy of “valorization,” which benefited the coffee export sec-
tor exclusively. Since coffee consumption is inelastic (lower prices
do not foster a proportional increase in world consumption), the
oversupply could not be sold at reasonable prices. In order to artifi-
cially maintain high coffee prices in the international market, the
Brazilian government bought and paid for the warehousing of cof-
fee in the consumer countries. The stored product was to be used
to supply the market in the years of deficient harvest. This proves
that the valorization policy, though unorthodox in the context of
economic Liberalism, was meant to protect the export sector. It had
no connection with growth-oriented economic policies. There was a
nationalistic argument behind this protectionist measure, but that
argument was deceiving and this policy soon started to backfire.
Paradoxically, the valorization scheme, meant to protect the cof-
fee trade, placed coffee planters and the nation in a position of in-
creasing dependence on foreign capital. By the mid-1920s, the cof-
fee enterprise was irrevocably “careening toward disaster” (Love,
São Paulo 48). Valorization kept coffee prices high from 1908 to
1929. These high prices attracted foreign investors, who soon were
able to dominate the marketing operations of the coffee trade. After
1908 the control of coffee marketing passed to foreign lenders: “By
1910, some of the largest coffee growing operations were in foreign
hands. The state’s second largest producer, the British-owned Du-
mont Coffee Company, controlled 4,000,000 trees” (Love, São
Paulo 49). The planters’ economic and social status declined while
foreign companies increased their share of the coffee market and
immigrant industrialists expanded their operations by buying up
the manufacturing units that planters had started. The Prados,

however, benefited the most from this scheme: “Prado-Chaves
profited not only from its privileged position in the valorization
scheme, but from the misfortunes of bankrupt fazendeiros, many of
whom preferred to deliver their plantations to a Brazilian firm
rather than a foreign one. By 1909, the company had acquired sev-
enteen such properties” (Levi 145-146).
In addition to the fierce competition from business adversaries,
the planters’ hegemony was also under constant pressure from dis-
contented employees. The working class in São Paulo also con-
tained a large immigrant contingent, whose labor replaced that of
the slaves on the coffee plantations. These workers were also the
preferred work force in the incipient process of industrialization in
the first decades of the twentieth century, but the immigrant work-
ing class was behind the strikes that took place during the early
1920s. Their class consciousness and tradition of labor activism
promoted the mobilization of the urban proletariat.13 The mounting
social unrest affecting São Paulo, even if not directly related to the
coffee business, contributed to the discomfort of the Prados, the
leading coffee planter clan, who referred to immigrants as “Italian
bandeirantes and Syrian conquistadores” (Levi 136).
Economic, political, and social pressures were developing within
Brazil. In 1924, rebellious Federal troops invaded São Paulo and oc-
cupied strategic points, hoping to garner the support of the Army
and the militarized São Paulo State Police. But this support did not
develop, and the rebellious forces were defeated in a confrontation in
which the population was exposed to bombing promoted by the
president of the state, Carlos de Campos, who solicited help from the
armed forces in Rio de Janeiro and attacked the city of São Paulo for
twenty-nine days. The rebellious troops were defeated, but the city
suffered great destruction and loss of civilian lives. The siege of 1924
is just one glaring sign of the general dissatisfaction with the political
regime of the oligarchies (Sevcenko, Orfeu 302-06).
13
Dean argues that the ideology of the labor movement in São Paulo was not
something introduced by intellectuals or institutions like labor unions. To him,
“The European tradition of labor militance was imported by the laborers them-
selves” (Dean 156). For more on the underground anarchist culture in São Paulo in
the early 1900s, see Hardman, Nem patria, nem patrão. For a description of labor
activism among Italian immigrants, see Fausto, Trabalho e conflito social 70; Cenni,
Italianos no Brasil 291-95; and Carelli 64-69.
In summary, the 1920s was a decade of escalating social, econom-

ic, and political turmoil for the ruling oligarchies. The “foreign” pres-
ence among society’s most important productive forces (the proletari-
at and the industrialists) threatened the aristocracy. The social,
economic, and political transformations originally brought about by
the coffee boom became even more radical with industrialization.
These changes certainly contributed to a sense of loss of identity and
lack of political influence for the São Paulo coffee aristocracy. While
foreign capital had controlled coffee marketing since 1908, the immi-
grant bourgeoisie dominated incipient industry, and the largely immi-
grant working class challenged the old rules of labor relations in the
country. In this volatile state of affairs the unprecedented economic
development spurred by the coffee planters generated and industrial
sector and became dependent on government incentives. All of these
factors contributed to a crisis in the oligarchic system, which could
lead to the downfall of the coffee aristoricracy. As one of the main po-
litical representatives of the coffee aristocracy, Paulo Prado intensified
his attacks against the regime through his essays, which started ap-
pearing with more regularity in the main newspapers and in the peri-
odicals he controlled. The bulk of his publications appeared between
1925 and 1928. His views and the alternatives he offered for the reso-
lution of the problems were often extreme. Prado was incisive in
blaming the government for the invasion of opportunistic foreign in-
vestors in the coffee business. Even though Prado participated in the
valorization scheme, he never acknowledged responsibility for the
process that led to this ominous scenario for the Brazilian economy.
THE MULTIPLE FACES OF PAULO PRADO
In face of the circumstances described above, Paulo Prado

knew that the coffee aristocracy economic power was decreasing.
His essays show that he had a clear understanding of the economic
problems affecting Brazil at the time. Many authors seem to agree
that, despite having economic power, the São Paulo coffee aristoc-
racy was politically marginalized throughout the Early Republic
years.14 Yet, the São Paulo rural elites still held great power and
14
Historians argue that, by the late 1800s, the farms of the west of the state
had surpassed the volume of coffee production of the Paraíba Valley in Rio de
prestige in the cultural arena in the 1920s. Therefore, their involve-

ment with cultural politics could be seen as a strategy to compen-
sate for their diminished political power. Paulo Prado’s involvement
with the modernist movement was much deeper, informed, and in-
terested than the attitude of dilettantism of an aristocrat like Olívia
Guedes Penteado. An active intellectual, Prado’s ideas reverberated
among the younger modernists. His involvement had the practical
political purpose of opposing the government while attempting to
secure symbolic preeminence in the face of adverse political and
economic circumstances: “Paulo’s sponsorship of the Modern Art
Week in 1922 gave rise to his political critique, and by the late
1920s he was calling for ‘an insurrection both moral and material’”
(Levi 178).
Paulo Prado was a fierce critic of his own class and of the pact
between the oligarchies of São Paulo and Minas Gerais. The cre-
ation of the Democratic Party and his involvement with Modernism
were signs of his discontentment with the prevailing political situa-
tion. The relatively marginal position they occupied in the political
arena prompted their insurrection against the government. Howev-
er, his party, the Democratic Party, founded in 1926 by his father,
Antônio Prado, was a center-right reformist organ that represented
the interests of the “enlightened faction” of the coffee aristocracy.
Levi contends that one of the issues straining the relationship be-
tween Antônio Prado and Washington Luis (President of the state
of São Paulo 1920–1924) concerned immigration laws. The author
cites that one of the reasons for Antônio Prado’s discontentment
with Washington Luis was prompted by a conflict between these
two leaders with regard to the “Ouchy Agreement,” which Antônio
Prado had signed with the Italian government in 1921. This con-
tract was meant to solve the problem of the insufficient flow of the
immigrant workforce to support coffee cultivation, but Washington
Luis rejected it (Levi 152). However, other than these disagree-
ments with the political leaders of the Republican Party, the Demo-
cratic Party did not propose an alternative political model to the
Janeiro. However, this shift in economic power was not accompanied by changes in
the political spheres. There was an imbalance of power between the political and
economic spheres of decision making in which the economic elites were marginal-
ized. This argument is made by Faoro 567-607; and Levi 159-83.
prevailing oligarchic system of the time. Formed mostly by middle

and upper-class lawyers and other white-collar elements, the Demo-
cratic Party wanted reform in order to preserve the old system.15
Paulo Prado was an intellectual with high aspirations; he was a
cultural ambassador and promoter, an art collector, a coffee aristo-
crat, an industrialist, a political leader, and representative of the
coffee producers in Brazil. In all of these roles he was a prominent
figure. But there were many conflicting issues to reconcile in each
of the positions that he occupied. Prado displayed, at once, a na-
tionalist attitude along with a cosmopolitan reverence for European
culture. As a descendent of a prestigious and powerful family, his
identity was strongly based on the notion of genealogy. He was
proud of this heritage, and this is clear in his writings about the his-
tory of São Paulo, especially the role of the Bandeirantes in the de-
velopment of São Paulo as a colony and later as a state in the feder-
ation. He also identified himself publicly as representative and
leader of the coffee planters in Brazil. Though Prado was not exact-
ly a farmer, whenever the subject was coffee, he addressed the pub-
lic as a planter and exporter, not so much as an intellectual. For ex-
ample, in his essay “O martyrio do café” [“The Martyrdom of
Coffee”], published in 1927 in O Estado de São Paulo and reprinted
in the second edition of Paulística in 1934, he addressed the prob-
lems generated by the policy of valorization, especially what he per-
ceived as the over-taxation of coffee. Prado warned the public of
the imminent fall of the entire structure of coffee business as it was
practiced in Brazil, a prediction that came true in 1929 with the
Crash. In a footnote to the reprinted article published in the 1934
edition of Paulística, Prado acknowledged that his predictions were
correct: “Dois anos . . . bastaram para que se realizasse a catastrophe
prevista (217) [Two years . . . were enough for the predicted cata-
strophe to materialize.]. Prado described the policy of valorization
as a clear and simple plan that worked for a while. He argues that
later, because of constant interventions and government corruption,
the scheme became a way for unscrupulous leaders to divert money
for their own interests by increasing taxes on the product. Prado al-
ways directed his critique at the government for its burdening of
farmers with taxes and other hidden costs:
15
Mário de Andrade and his brother, Carlos de Morais Andrade, were impor-
tant affiliates. For more about the Democratic Party composition, see Levi 203.
Quem escreve estas linhas não pertence à Academia Brasileira de

Lettras do café. É um simples productor, commissario e exporta-
dor. Só sabe plantar, colher, vender e embarcar o seu producto.
É nessa múltipla qualidade que assiste, com angustia ao martyrio
do café, que, perseguido, supertaxado, vilipendiado, poderá faz-
er um dia o que já fez o anil e está fazendo a borracha. Mudar de
terra. (217)
He who writes these lines does not belong to the Brazilian Acad-
emy of Letters of coffee. [He] is a simple [coffee] producer, rep-
resentative, and exporter. [He] only knows how to plant, har-
vest, sell, and ship his product. It is in this multiple capacity that
[he] watches, in anguish, the martyrdom of coffee, which, [for
being] persecuted, over-taxed, vilified, may one day do what
aniseed [production] did and what the rubber [business] is do-
ing. [It] may move overseas.
Prado’s strategy to appeal to the coffee producers was to as-

sume the persona of a “humble” coffee farmer. Prado construes
himself as a simple, hardworking, and forthright man who, like all
the other farmers, was baffled by government bureaucracy and
corruption. In the specific case of coffee, Prado blames the gov-
ernment for the excessive taxation. However, earlier in the same
essay Prado identified the root of the problem to be weak national
currency, which favored exports and artificially boosted coffee
prices. One of the messages that he puts forth in this essay is that
the greed of some destroys the cycle of prosperity that benefits
the entire nation. These greedy and corrupt men are usually de-
scribed as unfit to assume leadership roles. According to Prado,
this brief moment of prosperity attracted too many greedy and
unprepared farmers who joined the coffee enterprise, which led to
the problem of overproduction. The western lands of São Paulo
started to attract: “ . . . a multidão dos fazendeiros improvisados,
remanescentes do encilhamento16 ou refugiados das cidades mor-
16
The Encilhamento was a corruption scandal that occurred in Rio de Janeiro
in 1891. The government fomented credit creation, generating an economic boom
and a speculative bubble known as Encilhamento. The term is a reference to horse
racing. It is the point of departure where horses are kept right before the race
starts. Thus, Encilhamento is a metaphor for the logic that regulates stock market
operations, and it can be ultimately a metaphor for capitalism itself. For more on
the Encilhamento episode both in its urban and rural versions, see Faoro 586-87.
tas do valle do Parahyba” (210). [... The multitude of improvised

farmers, remnants of [the financial speculation] represented by
encilhamento or refugees from the dead cities and exhausted
properties of the Parahyba Valley.]. This was, in his view, the rea-
son for overproduction, which consequently led to the need for
government intervention. This intervention, in the form of val-
orization policies, in turn led to increased expenses and govern-
ment dependency on foreign loans. These loans, according to Pra-
do, led to an increase in taxes, which were ultimately paid by the
farmers (212). However, it is important to remember that the Pra-
dos were some of the main beneficiaries of this policy, and, in
spite of Antônio Prado’s opposition to this anti-liberal measure,
the Prados lobbied the government for it. Paulo Prado shows in
this passage that he was well-informed about the problem of over-
production, and about the dangers and shortfalls of the valoriza-
tion scheme. However, he only complains about the taxation of
coffee. Prado implies that these taxes are financing a scheme that
ends up attracting more producers and perpetuating the problem
of oversupply. This may be true, but Joseph Love argues that it
was the coffee importer, the consumer, who probably paid a
greater share of the costs associated with the valorization scheme
(Love, São Paulo 47).
In “O martyrio do café” Prado deceivingly blamed other par-
ties for the valorization scheme. He was always quick to point his
fingers at other “less capable” and morally corrupt elite leaders for
their greed. In these public addresses, first published in newspa-
pers and then compiled in his first book, he assumed the voice of
reason and restraint, speaking from an assumed moral high ground
that hid his own involvement in the processes that he described
and critiqued. Behind all of the accusations that Prado articulated
in these essays, there was also a message, loud and clear, that the
only natural and legitimate leadership that of the rural aristocracy.
Prado associated the aristocracy with the farmers; the “real” farm-
ers, not the opportunists (speculators, foreign investors, failed pro-
ducers) who jumped in the business, without knowledge or scru-
ples, in order to take advantage of the protectionist government
measures. The fact that Prado would later incorporate this particu-
lar essay into Paulística indicates that the arguments he developed
here had a structural significance as one of the core concepts of his
work as a historian.
Paulo Prado criticized the valorization scheme in his two

books.17 He might have had some disagreement with the principle
behind this policy, but he did not oppose it as his father, Antônio
Prado, did (Levi 153). In fact, Paulo Prado was the mastermind of
an agreement with the government of France in which similar mar-
ket manipulations were suggested. In this case, Prado convinced
the French government that it would be a good investment to buy
coffee in advance at a lower price and warehouse the product in the
port of Santos. His defense of such plan appeared in the essay “O
Convênio Franco-Brasileiro,” originally published in O Estado de
São Paulo in May of 1920:
Parti para a Europa em meados de 1916, em desempenho de mi-

nha missão official junto ao Comitê de Valorização.... eu sugeria
a idéia de compra pelos governos francês e inglês de uma parte
da colheita brasileira, 4 ou 5 milhões de sacas, e da armazenagem
desse café em Santos ou Nova York, onde poderia servir de las-
tro pra uma operação de Crédito Comercial, que forneceria re-
cursos em ouro para outras compras, e ao mesmo tempo, ... o
pagamento dos “Coupons” da dívida brasileira na França e na
Inglaterra, foi esse o embrião do futuro Convênio. (Qtd. Berriel
232)18 (emphasis in the original).
I went to Europe in mid-1916, on an official mission represent-
ing the Valorization Committee.... I was suggesting the idea of a
purchase by French and English governments of part of the
Brazilian harvest, 4 or 5 millions of bags, and of the warehousing
of this coffee in Santos or New York, where it could serve as col-
lateral for an operation of Commercial Credit, which would fur-
nish resources in gold for other purchases, and at the same time
it would facilitate ... the payment [by the Brazilian government]
of the “Coupons” of the Brazilian debt in France and England,
this was the embryo of the future agreement.
The passage shows that Paulo Prado was not only involved with the
valorization scheme but that he was also actively trying to devise
17
In Retrato do Brasil 172, Prado affirms that the valorization policy is not
enough because it does not take care of the problem of rising costs of production
and storage. But in “O martyrio do café,” Paulística 211-17, he criticizes the govern-
ment for coming up with such a policy, which signaled the beginning of the “mar-
tyrdom” of coffee because of the abusive taxes imposed on producers.
18
Prado, “O Convênio Franco-Brasileiro.” The page numbers refer to a
reprinted version of this essay as it appears in its entirety in Berriel 232-37.
other alternatives within the same protectionist set of policies to

protect the interests of coffee producers. Prado claimed that these
measures were not only necessary but that they were also in the best
interests of both the nation and the coffee producers. Therefore,
when read against the other essays in which Paulo Prado attacked
the corruption involved in the valorization scheme, this particular
essay shows clearly that Prado was playing both sides of the issue.
In his work as a historian he referred to valorization as a problem,
while in his addresses to the coffee producers he defended this poli-
cy. On both sides of this issue Prado placed himself as a defender of
national interests. It is in reference to this issue that Gilberto
Freyre, who wrote Paulo Prado’s obituary, described Prado as a
kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.19 I would say that Paulo Prado’s
roles and his persona might have been more complex than this
bipolar characterization, but Freyre is correct in pointing out the
fundamental duplicity of Prado as an agent of the conservative
forces of the aristocracy and as a promoter of a cultural movement
that advocated change. In what follows, I will examine another side
of Prado’s public persona: his complex role as a patron of the arts
and culture.
PAULO PRADO’S MODES OF CULTURAL PATRONAGE
Though Paulo Prado often assumed the public image of a hum-

ble farmer when the topic was economic policies in the export sec-
tor, a distinct side of his persona emerged when the topic was art
and literature. There are many facets to Prado’s role as sponsor and
promoter of literature and the arts. His patronage of Modernism
was also marked by controversy, resistance, and accusations of dou-
19
“Quem daqui a meio século estudar a personalidade e a vida de Paulo Prado
se espantará decerto ao ver o seu nome associado ao mesmo tempo ao “movimento
modernista” e ao Departamento Nacional do Café. É que Paulo Prado foi real-
mente um dos casos mais curiosos do Dr. Jekyll e Mr. Hyde que já houve no Brasil
ou que ocorreram no século XIX” (Freyre 92) [ He who in half a century happens to
study the personality and life of Paulo Prado will certainly be astonished to see that
his name was associated at the same time to the “modernist movement” and to the
National Department of Coffee. This is so because Paulo Prado was really one of
the most curious cases of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that has ever been in Brazil or
that ever happened in the XIX century.]. This text originally appeared in the obitu-
ary section of the Diário Pernambucano in October 28, 1943.
ble-dealing, as I will demonstrate below. Prado promoted frequent

gatherings in the aristocratic salons, which stimulated the exchange
of ideas amongst all the intellectuals and artists involved and
brought a measure of coherence to the movement. His actions also
encouraged the publication and circulation of the modernists’
work. Along with other important names in São Paulo’s high soci-
ety, he promoted the Week of Modern Art (February 11-18, 1922).
In Mário de Andrade’s opinion, Prado was the main promoter: “E
o fautor verdadeiro da Semana de Arte Moderna foi Paulo Prado. E
só mesmo uma figura como ele e uma cidade grande mas provin-
ciana como São Paulo, poderiam fazer o movimento modernista e
objetivá-lo na Semana” (O movimento modernista 23) [And the true
maker of the Week of Modern Art was Paulo Prado. And only a fig-
ure like him and a big city with small town mentality like São Paulo
could make the modernist movement [happen] and materialize it in
the [promotion of] the Week.]
The Week of Modern Art, the event that officially launched the
modernist movement, was conceived, organized, and publicized by
individuals within the highest echelons of government and the up-
permost social classes of São Paulo. In fact, the Week of Modern
Art marked the moment in which the São Paulo coffee aristocracy
assumed a leading role as promoters of a nationalist high culture in
Brazil. This event was later defined by literary historians and by the
modernist intellectuals themselves as a gathering of discontented
artists who faced enormous resistance from the dominant cultural
agents and institutions. In a 1932 account from Menotti Del Pic-
chia, it is possible to see that a large group of public authorities was
involved in the planning of the event:
Quando a coisa estava madura em São Paulo, aqui chegou Graça

Aranha. Era um capitão de prestígio. Paulo Prado, um dos mais
ilustres rebeldes, movimentou toda a aristocracia bandeirante
para prestigiar a bernarda. Eu me incumbi de sublevar o gover-
no. O Dr. Washington Luís, que é um grande espírito, simpati-
zou com a insurreição. Flamínio Ferrreira aderiu. Tínhamos o
grande veiculador da idéia: o jornal de maior tradição no Brasil
[Correio Paulistano]. E vieram os dias épicos da Semana de Arte
Moderna no Municipal. 1922.... Ao Correio Paulistano deve o
Brasil o maior movimento de idéias que até hoje abalou o Brasil.
(28)
When the thing was mature in São Paulo, Graça Aranha ar-
rived here. He was a captain of prestige. Paulo Prado, one of
the most illustrious rebels, goaded the bandeirante aristocracy
to support the event. I assigned myself the task of stirring up
the government. Dr. Washington Luis, who is a great spirit,
sympathized with the insurrection. Famínio Ferreira joined us.
We had the great vehicle for the idea: the newspaper of greatest
tradition in Brazil [Correio Paulistano]. And then came the epic
days of the Week of Modern Art.... To the Correio Paulistano
Brazil owes the greatest movement of ideas to date that shook
its foundation.
It is hard to imagine what forces could pose significant opposition

to the men behind the event. Del Picchia describes the top political
authorities as “illustrious rebels,” which is a revealing oxymoron.
Against what or whom could these prominent men be rebelling?
Washington Luis was mayor of São Paulo (1920-24) and later Presi-
dent of the Republic (1926-30). Paulo Prado was at the time one of
the wealthiest men in Brazil. As is made clear in the passage above,
he was in charge of gathering support from the Bandeirante aristoc-
racy, that is, the local coffee aristocracy. The reference to the Ban-
deirantes here is of key importance, because it is a qualifier that ex-
cludes other types of economic elites in São Paulo at that time. The
aristocracy appears here as a benign force acting in the name of cul-
ture and tradition against the uncultured “aristocracy of money,”
the immigrant bourgeoisie.
The location of the event denotes an alliance between the
organizers and the most powerful and traditional sectors of the
São Paulo society.20 The Municipal Theater, built during An-
tônio Prado’s mandate (1899-1911), was a semi-official venue, a
place where the Republican Party held conventions and where
the most well-to-do members of society attended concerts (Sev-
cenko, Orfeu 232). Also, the main media vehicle for the promo-
tion of the Week of Modern Art, the Correio Paulistano was the
official organ of the Republican Party (the establishment party).
This was, in the words of Del Picchia, “the newspaper of great-
est tradition in Brazil,” and it would continue to be an impor-
tant vehicle for the promotion of various modernist pro-
20
For more on the organization of the Week of Modern Art and especially
Paulo Prado’s role in this event see also Gonçalves 183-95.
jects.21 It is clear, then, that the Week of Modern Art should be

understood as an official event sponsored by the political lead-
ers of the city and the state of São Paulo. However, in the cov-
erage it has received in most of the scholarship about the mod-
ernist movement, this aspect was downplayed, while the event
was portrayed as a raucous festival promoted by the young
modernist artists themselves.
The fact that Graça Aranha is mentioned as one of the organiz-
ers and supporters of the event in São Paulo is also telling of the na-
ture of the event. Aranha, already a member of the Academia
Brasileira de Letras and a man who in many ways represented what
the modernists rejected in the field of literature, was welcomed in
their midst because of his prestige. Also, Graça Aranha and Paulo
Prado were connected by familial and business links.22 Aranha was
disillusioned with the Academia, and, by 1925, he had in fact re-
signed his position within the institution. In that same year, Oswald
de Andrade applied for a chair in the Academia, an act that Mário
de Andrade saw as a joke and a silly provocation (M. Moraes 250).
The modernists’ dubious attitude with regard to the Academia is
emblematic also of the position of São Paulo in the national cultural
scene. São Paulo in the 1920s was leading the country in every as-
pect except in the arts and culture, which was still dominated by
Rio de Janeiro. The Week of Modern Art was partly intended as an
event that would bring attention to the incipient and still obscure
cultural scene of São Paulo. Hence the modernists’ assault on offi-
cial cultural institutions, especially the Academia Brasileira de Le-
tras, had elements of loyalty to the local culture of São Paulo
against the “official culture” represented by the Academia and the
intellectual circles of the Brazilian capital at the time, Rio de
Janeiro.
Before organizing the inaugural event of Modernism, which had
such strong symbolic significance for the modernist movement,
Prado had sponsored the adaptation of O contratador de diamantes,
21
Nelson Werneck Sodré argues that the Correio Paulistano promoted the
modernist “manifestations,” although the avant-garde magazines were the main
outlet for the modernist production. See Sodré, A historia da imprensa 416.
22
According to Berriel, Graça Aranha, already a mature man, married Paulo
Prado’s sister, but he does not provide her name (Berriel 72). Lima Barreto charac-
terized Graça Aranha as a “traveling salesman” for the Prados. See Barreto, Margin-
ália 191-94.
a play written by Afonso Arinos. The play opened at the Teatro

Municipal de São Paulo in 1919. This was a spectacle of strong na-
tionalist content, about the prospecting for diamonds in the arrayal
do Tijuco, currently Diamantina, in Minas Gerais. The plot was di-
rectly related to the myth of the Bandeirantes. The main character,
Felisberto Caldeira Brant, was a diamond contractor who had been
unfairly taxed by the Portuguese. The actors were members of the
aristocracy, and the plot had a direct correlation to the drama lived
by coffee producers at the time. (Sevcenko, Orfeu 240-44). This
event marked the beginning of Paulo Prado’s and the aristocracy’s
involvement with events that symbolically expressed their cultural
nationalism.
In other cultural areas, such as the publication and circulation
of literature, Paulo Prado also invested in a wide array of periodi-
cals throughout the 1920s. Monteiro Lobato and Paulo Prado were
co-owners, co-directors and editors of the Revista do Brasil, one of
the most successful publications of that period. This was a periodi-
cal of eclectic but mainly aristocratic appeal. It was not the type of
venue that would publish the most polemical texts of the mod-
ernists, but it welcomed contributions from intellectuals of various
political and ideological positions. Modernists like Sérgio Milliet,
Manuel Bandeira, Oswald de Andrade, and Mário de Andrade
published there.23 Since this periodical was also controlled by Lo-
bato, there were some restrictions as to what texts the modernists
could publish there.24 It is also clear that Paulo Prado had some
participation in supporting avant-garde magazines such as Klaxon
(May 1922 to January 1923) and Terra-Roxa e Outras Terras. (1926).
These two periodicals were founded, directed, edited, and support-
ed mostly by the younger modernists but Prado also supported
them.25 According to Carlos Berriel, Prado’s participation and sup-
23
Some of these essays published by Oswald de Andrade and Mário de An-
drade in the Revista do Brasil appear in Batista, Lopez, and Lima, Brasil: Primeiro
tempo modernista 208-224.
24
Marcos Antonio de Moraes, editor and author of the footnotes of the Corre-
spondência, observes that due to the “eclectic but aristocratic” profile of this period-
ical, the excesses and the polemical issues that modernist intellectuals often raised
were not welcomed in the Revista. Such was the case with an article that Mário de
Andrade tried to publish there, “Carta aberta ao príncipe,” in which he criticized
Parnassian poets. See footnote 58, M. Moraes 211.
25
According to Cecilia Lara, Klaxon was run by a group of modernists who
frequently met at Tácito de Almeida’s law office and also in the “Confeitaria
port of the Terra-Roxa e Outras Terras were evident (119). In the

late 1920s Prado, Mário de Andrade, and Alcântara Machado
founded the Revista Nova. These were the main venues for the early
creative texts published by modernists from various states. In many
cases, the modernists would first publish poems, manifestos, or
short stories in one of these periodicals; later they would compile
this material into their books. Prado’s participation in the manage-
ment of these publications was sometimes criticized by the mod-
ernists. Bandeira was very emphatic in his criticism of Prado as the
sponsor of the younger generation and of his association with Mon-
teiro Lobato, with whom the modernists had a strained relation-
ship:
Um homem rico que deixa morrer a única revista que propagava

o movimento moderno entre nós, não tem o direito de se dizer
amigo da arte moderna.... Imagina o prestígio que teria o nosso
movimento se o público visse que um homem inteligente e rico
vinha pôr uma parte da sua fortuna em auxílio dele! ... O Lobato
é um homem desonesto.... Há na empresa do Lobato capitais do
Paulo Prado. Eles devem sair! Ou então o Paulo Prado saia do
meio de nós! Ou então eu sairei de vocês ... Guardarei da
melancólica excursão a tua amizade, se queres continuar a con-
cedê-la. (M. Moraes 118)
A rich man who lets the only magazine that propagated the mod-
ern [modernist] movement among us die has no right to say he is
a friend of modern art.... Imagine the prestige our movement
would have if the public saw that a rich and intelligent man was
putting his money to help it! ... [Monteiro] Lobato is a dishonest
man.... In Lobato’s company, there are investments [capital]
from Paulo Prado. They should leave. Or at least Paulo [Prado]
should leave from our midst! Or else, I will leave [from your
Vienense.” This group of intellectuals included Mário de Andrade, Oswald de An-

drade, Guilherme de Almeida, Sérgio Milliet, Tácito de Almeida, Yan de Almeida
Prado, Couto de Barros, and others. These were also some of the most regular con-
tributors to the magazine. In terms of financial support, Klaxon also depended on
contributions from the editors themselves; the few ads (Guaraná Espumante, Zanot-
ta, Lacta) that appeared in the magazine also helped, but soon the companies
dropped their ads. There were no subscribers, except for maybe one, according to
Guilherme de Almeida. For more details on the difficulties the editors had in main-
taining these publications, see Lara 15–29.
group] ... I will keep from this melancholic excursion [into the
modernist movement] your friendship, if you wish to concede it
to me.
Bandeira seemed to expect a higher level of commitment from a

rich benefactor such as Prado in favor of the new generation of in-
tellectuals. However, Bandeira was keenly aware of the fact that the
association between the younger modernists and these older, richer,
and more conservative individuals could compromise the mod-
ernists’ reputation. Around that same time Bandeira felt betrayed
when Lobato, who had agreed to publish one of his books, broke
his promise at the last minute, hence Bandeira’s criticism of Lobato
in this letter.26 Manuel Bandeira confronted Mário de Andrade in
this letter, but apparently Mário did not respond directly to his re-
marks. The letter that Mário sent back to Bandeira did not mention
any of these issues.27 Bandeira remained skeptical of Paulo Prado’s
and Graça Aranha’s interest in the modernist movement.28 In a
newspaper article originally published in 1924, “Poesia Pau-Brasil,”
Bandeira not only rejected the ideas in Oswald de Andrade’s Mani-
festo da poesia Pau-Brasil, but he also accused many modernists of
being false and hypocritical in relation to their own commitment in
the movement:
Há muita insinceridade nesse chamado movimento moderno.

Fala-se mal dos outros pelas costas.... Ronald [de Carvalho] fala
26
In a letter of September, 1923, to Mário de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira re-
ported the problem he had with Lobato: “O Lobato acaba de me roer a corda, co-
municando-me que não editará mais os meus versos, para a publicação dos quais ele
se comprometera formalmente há mais de um ano . . . é um canalha, cuja palavra não
merece fé (M. Moraes 103). [Lobato has just “dropped the ball,” telling me that he
will not publish my verses anymore, even though he had formally committed to
publish them more than a year ago . . . he is a crook whose words do not deserve
faith.]
27
It is possible that the letter in which Mário responds to these comments was
edited or not published. Manuel Bandeira says in the preface that he had some let-
ters that could not be revealed. Some others were edited so that some personal in-
formation is kept from the public. He also mentions that he edited other letters so
that the “rudeness” of some comments made by Mário in moments of anger would
not be revealed. See Bandeira’s preface to the letters that Mário de Andrade sent
him. This preface is reprinted in M. Moraes 679-80.
28
Not only Manuel Bandeira, but many other modernists were critical of
Graça Aranha, including Mário de Andrade, Oswald de Andrade, Carlos Drum-
mond de Andrade, and others. See M. Moraes 206.
mal da Academia e vai submetendo os livros ao julgamento dessa

mesma Academia.... Paulo Prado faz a semana de arte moderna,
aceita almoço dos klaxistas e, rico, deixa morrer a Klaxon, e só-
cio da casa editor de Vasco Porcalho & Cia., permite que eu e
Mário de Andrade sejamos escurraçados pela firma em favor de
parnasianos e caboclistas (Andorinha 248).
There is a great deal of insincerity in this so-called modern

[modernist] movement. They speak badly of each other from be-
hind [each other’s] back. Ronald [de Carvalho] badmouths the
Academy and still submits his books to the review of this same
Academy.... Paulo Prado promotes the Week of Modern Art, ac-
cepts [an invitation to] a luncheon from the klaxistas and, a rich
man, he lets Klaxon die, he is a business associate of the publish-
ing house Vasco Porcalho & Co., and still permits that Mário de
Andrade and I be humiliated by the company in favor or Parnas-
sians and caboclistas [nationalists].
If Bandeira was correct about Prado’s partnership with Vasco Por-

callho & Co., it seemed that Prado was also playing a double-game
when it came to his business dealings in the publishing industry.
Bandeira argues that Paulo Prado’s support was far from what he
could have done if he really was a supporter of the modernist move-
ment, but also that Prado had business dealings with several editors
and presses that did not welcome modernist works. This particular
aspect of his involvement in the publishing industry seemed to have
more to do with Prado’s ventures as a capitalist, not as a benefactor
and promoter of modernist literature. The type of literature that
companies like Lobato & Co. and Vasco Porcalho & Co. published
was aimed at the larger public, the non-intellectual sectors of the
bourgeoisie. This type of literary production represented a continu-
ation with the market that thrived during the Belle Époque, one of
the targets of the modernists’ attack.
Controversial and ambiguous as his support may have been, in
general Prado’s patronage facilitated the publication and circulation
of early modernist texts. Besides supporting some of the periodicals
in which the modernists’ texts circulated, Prado also kept the liter-
ary and artistic salons in his mansion in Higienópolis.29 The Prados,
29
The salon organized by Paulo Prado was, according to Mário de Andrade,
the most selective. All the intellectuals were invited to lunch on Sundays in which
excellent Luso-Brazilian food was served. See O movimento modernista 35–36.
Penteados, and Amarais sponsored these aristocratic salons. These

events are described as some the most important activities; they fa-
cilitated the flow and exchange of ideas amongst the various partic-
ipants. Paulo Prado also had an extensive library and subscriptions
to European avant-garde magazines that would otherwise be inac-
cessible to many in the modernist group of intellectuals and artists
(Sevcenko, Orfeu 236). These aristocrats also sponsored several
trips to the Brazilian countryside. In O turista aprendiz, Mário de
Andrade narrates events of the ethnographical trips he made to the
north and northeast in 1927 in the company of Olívia Guedes Pen-
teado.30
Another important aspect of Paulo Prado’s active patronage of
modernist writers and artists came in the form of “endorsements.”
That is, several of the reviews, prefaces, essays Prado wrote and
published in the 1920s served as a stamp of approval from a re-
spected intellectual and business man. These endorsements certain-
ly favored the acceptance of some of the modernist production by
other members of the São Paulo aristocracy. A similar function
could also be attributed to his role as an art collector. In a letter to
Manuel Bandeira, Mário de Andrade made a comment about Pra-
do’s power to influence other aristocrats to buy paintings by mod-
ernist artists, explaining that if Paulo Prado bought one painting by
Cândido Portinari, for instance, one could expect that three or four
other paintings would be sold to the others.31 Andrade criticized
Portinari for not paying a visit to Prado when the painter was in
São Paulo for a few days.
Paulo Prado was also actively involved in bringing to Brazil and
hosting some of the important artists and writers in the European
scene. Prado introduced Blaise Cendrars to Oswald in Paris and
then brought the Swiss poet to Brazil on more than one occasion.
30
Mário de Andrade does not say that Olívia Penteado is sponsoring the trip,
but it is obvious that she was in charge of the “expedition,” as it is revealed in one
of the first entries of Andrade’s diary. D. Olívia asks him if he feels out of place be-
ing in the company of just her and two other girls. Feeling irritable, Andrade replies
by saying that, if he knew it was going to be like that, he would not have come. See
O turista aprendiz 53.
31
“Ora um quadro comprado pelo Paulo Prado significa não raro uns três ou
quatro vendidos, de indivíduos que vão na onda dele como o Thiollier, e de outros
que criam coragem” (M. Moraes 603). [Well, a painting bought by Paulo Prado not
infrequently means that three or four others will be sold to individuals who will go
along with him, like [Rene] Thiollier and others who get encouraged.]
Cendrars spent several months in Prado’s farm São Martinho. An-

other important artist and architect to be hosted by Prado was Le
Corbusier, who first came to Brazil in 1929. It was on this occasion
that Le Corbusier met Lúcio Costa, one of the most prominent
Brazilian architects of that time, who became influenced by Cor-
busier’s style (Amaral, Correspondência Mário de Andrade & Tarsila
do Amaral 161; Ferraz, “Perfil de um homem” xix). While in Brazil,
Blaise Cendrars and several modernist artists and intellectuals were
taken to several locations of historical significance. Cendrars was
hosted at the São Martinho farm for several months.32
Bringing important names from Europe was just one of the
ways that Prado stimulated the exchange of ideas between Brazilian
and European artists. He seemed to envision this process as a two-
way street. After Cendrars returned to France, Prado kept in touch
with him via correspondence for many years. Cendrars and Prado
met around 1923, and their friendship only ended in 1943 with Pra-
do’s death. In many of the letters written by Cendrars to Prado,
there are references to cultural projects, including publications,
translations, art exhibits, propaganda films, ballets, and more.33 The
publications were to be released in Paris through some of Cendrars’
editors. It seemed that these two intellectuals were conceptualizing
and organizing ways to divulge Brazilian art, literature, history, folk-
lore, Brazilian economy, modernization, and other aspects of Brazil-
ian culture in France.
In a letter written in 1927, Cendrars also talked about the struc-
ture of a special issue of the French magazine La Renaissance de
l’Art Français et des Industries de Luxe. Cendrars contacted the edi-
tors of this magazine, and they were receptive to the idea of an issue
dedicated to “Brazilian propaganda.” Cendrars had already thought
32
Cendrars visited Brazil in 1924, 1926, and then he came for a longer stay in
1927-28. He was hosted by Paulo Prado during each of these visits. Alexandre Eu-
lálio affirms that Cendrars claimed to have returned to Brazil in 1934 and then
again in 1935, but these visits could not be confirmed. See Eulálio 30.
33
In a long letter to Paulo Prado, dated November, 1924, Cendrars talks about
these projects in detail. He mentioned a “filme de propaganda brasileiro” [a Brazil-
ian film of propaganda]; the interest of the editors of two companies (Sans Pareil
and Stock) in publishing a collection with young Brazilian authors in Portuguese;
translations to be done by Sérgio Milliet; the ballet would be done by Oswald e Tar-
sila; and articles to be published in newspapers that would emphasize “o lado de-
senvolvimentista, país novo, do Brasil.” [The developmentalist side, new country, of
Brazil]. (Eulálio 177)
about the structure and about who would be in charge of each top-
ic. According to him, articles dealing with various topics should be
written by Brazilian specialists. He thought of the following list of
experts and their respective topics: Yan de Almeida Prado would
be in charge of antique iconography; Mário de Andrade would be
in charge of literature; Oswald de Andrade would write about
painting; Ronald de Carvalho would take care of poetry; and Capis-
trano de Abreu would write about ethnography and folklore (Eu-
lálio 185). Almost all of the names included in this list are those of
intellectuals connected with Modernism in São Paulo.
However, the most important aspect that the letters reveal is
that Paulo Prado was not simply a promoter of Modernism in São
Paulo and Brazil; he had also assumed the role of a cultural ambas-
sador for Brazil abroad. He sponsored Brazilian artists and intellec-
tuals in Paris, a group that, according to Sérgio Milliet, formed, in
1923, a small Brazilian Embassy in Paris.34 The projects described
by Cendrars are typically enterprises that the state would oversee
and promote through the Ministry of Foreign Relations and its em-
bassies abroad. In other words, these are tasks performed by state
cultural apparatuses. Therefore, it would not be an exaggeration to
consider Paulo Prado a proto-minister of culture, in charge of pro-
moting Brazilian culture at home, but also in charge of projecting
an image of a modern nation abroad, much like Gustavo Capanema
would do during the Vargas years. Paulo Duarte, one of Mário de
Andrade’s best friends, mentions in a letter to Andrade that he
missed the kinds of activities, the dialogue that Paulo Prado’s pa-
tronage provided for intellectuals in Brazil (Duarte 244).35 Prado’s
importance in promoting the modernist image of rebellious nation-
alism, which came to be appropriated by the state in the Vargas
years, cannot be overstated. But Prado’s ideas were not restricted to
34
Milliet’s letter appears in Batista, Lopez, and Lima, Brasil: Primeiro momento
modernista 319. With regard to Paulo Prado’s sponsorship of these groups of intel-
lectuals in Paris, see Sevcenko, Orfeu 282.
35
This letter is from 1942. Duarte complains about one of the effects of the
Vargas dictatorship on Brazilian culture: “Eu não sei, mas parece que depois que a
ditadura fechou o Brasil completamente a todo contato espiritual com o es-
trangeiro, depois que o Paulo Prado e gente como ele deixaram de ir à Europa ou
ficaram impossibilitados de ir à Europa, o pessoal do pensamento deu pra traz!”
(244). [I don’t know, but it seems like the dictatorship closed off Brazil completely
to all international [spiritual] contact, after Paulo Prado and people like him be-
came incapacitated to go to Europe, Brazilian intelligentsia went backwards!]
the logistical aspect of this cultural enterprise. In the next sections I

will analyze the most important elements of his work as a historian,
which was part of his project of national identity and an expression
of his political views.
PAULÍSTICA: TALES OF BANDEIRANTE SUPREMACY
The coffee business gave Paulo Prado and his family most of
their economic power and prestige. Even though the Prados’ enter-
prises involved more complex operations than coffee production
and export, their role as planters was the source of their pride. The
Prado-Chaves export was the only Brazilian company in the busi-
ness, and the Prados were proud of owning a national company in
such a foreign-dominated environment. They were economic na-
tionalists, but, as capitalists, they had to “remain in good terms with
foreign capital,” so their nationalism was expressed more in cultural
than in economic terms (Levi 157). This is perhaps the major con-
flict Paulo Prado had to deal with in the cultural arena as well. He
sometimes acted like a disinterested benefactor and sometimes as a
businessman. In his political leadership of the coffee aristocracy, his
attitude was marked by the same dichotomy. As noted earlier, Paulo
Prado often addressed his reading public as a coffee entrepreneur,
almost a “farmer,” and, because his intended audience was made
up of other coffee oligarchs, this tactic helped Prado come across as
one of them, as a man who was speaking on their behalf.
In his work as a historian, however, Prado resorted to a distinct
kind of authoritative strategy. In his work as an intellectual Prado
construes his authority by constant references to colonial docu-
ments as well as to other historians he respected and by whom he
was directly influenced. The most important intellectual influences
that marked Prado’s writing as a historian were, according to Carlos
Berriel, the ideas of the 1870s generation of intellectuals in Brazil
and in Portugal, such as Eça de Queirós, Oliveira Martins, Joaquim
Nabuco. Prado’s uncle, Eduardo Prado, who was one of the first
Prados to have a career as an intellectual, is also a great influence
on Paulo Prado (Berriel 18). Of that generation, it was perhaps
Capistrano de Abreu, a historian from the Escola de Recife, who
most directly influenced Paulo Prado’s writing. Abreu was a per-
sonal friend of Prado’s and influenced all of Prado’s writings
(Berriel 128). Prado also often cited or applied concepts of Euro-

pean authors such as Henry Thomas Buckle, Friedrich Ratzel,
Arthur Gobineau, Ernest Renan, Moritz Wagner, and Hippolyte
Taine, all of whom were influential scientists and thinkers associat-
ed with the ideas and values of determinist and evolutionist schools
of thought. Prado often refers to the studies of Carl Friedrich
Philipp Von Martius, a German botanist who had traveled exten-
sively through Brazil during the nineteenth century.36
According to Lilia Schwarcz, Buckle and Ratzel were advocates
of “geographical determinism.” They argued that the cultural de-
velopment of a nation was conditioned by its physical environment
(61). Ernest Renan, Hippolyte Taine, and Arthur Gobineau were
polygenist37 authors who believed in “racial determinism.” These
authors rejected Darwinist evolutionism in favor of the argument
that races are fundamentally different and that some will not evolve
(66). Renan developed the concept of “imperfectible races,” which
labeled black, yellow, and mixed races as inferior races. These
races, in Renan’s view, were not civilizable or “given to progress”
(66, 67). Taine viewed individuals as direct consequences of their
groups. To him, no phenomenon occurred without outside stimu-
lus. His concept of race was broad and not restricted by a given set
of biological traits. Taine’s definition of race was equivalent to the
concept of nation. Taine understood “nationalities, climates, and
temperaments as reflections of race” (68). Another important
source for Prado’s arguments was Moritz Wagner, a German biolo-
gist who developed the concept of “geographical isolation.” Ac-
cording to Wagner, without geographical isolation, natural selection
would have no effect in producing a new species (Weissman 728-
36
According to the official website of the scientific archive Botanische
Staatssammlung as Natural History Collection, Martius and Johan Baptist von Spyx
studied not only the Brazilian flora, but they also collected ethnographic artifacts
and minerals. Martius is known for the project “Flora brasiliensis,” which he start-
ed in 1840. This was a collaborative effort of 65 authors, to which Martius con-
tributed and edited until his death in 1868. See “Carl Friedrich Philipp von Mar-
tius.”
37
Polygenist authors believed that different human races represented “differ-
ent species.” The human races were fundamentally different and non-whites were
considered inferior. Polygenists advocated the idea of “imperfectible races,” reject-
ing the Monogenist model, which advocated the notion of a single humanity. For
the polygenists, crossbreeding was something negative that would result in the for-
mation of weaker races. For more on the debate between Monogenists and Poly-
genists, see Schwarcz 49-57 and Skidmore 48-69.
30). As I will demonstrate below, Paulo Prado’s approach was

“eclectic,” as he applied concepts from both geographical and
racial determinism to account for the exceptionality of the “Ban-
deirante race.”
This list of thinkers and scientists is wide, and not all of these
concepts formed a cohesive system of ideas. Prado used concepts
taken from diverse sources to support his notions of “evolution” in
the formation of Brazil. Most of the names cited above are listed as
contributing to several branches of deterministic schools, loosely
connected to (and sometimes denying) evolutionism. Many of these
scholars are listed as proponents of concepts that came to be part of
what would be later described as “Social Darwinism.” Many associ-
ate this expression with the work of Herbert Spencer, but all of the
authors who believed in “racial determinism” contributed to this
development in the social sciences.38 Besides resorting loosely to
various theoretical concepts derived both from geographical and
racial determinism, Paulo Prado also established authority in his es-
says through references to documents from colonial times, such as
letters written by religious leaders and early settlers as well as travel
literature. Most frequently, Prado cites Capistrano de Abreu’s ideas
and historical views to support his arguments.
However, Paulo Prado, “the farmer,” was not completely absent
in his essays on Brazilian and Paulista history. It was fundamentally
with the nostalgic view of the rural aristocrat that he no longer was
(or maybe never really was) that Prado wrote these political and
historical essays. In each of these pieces that compose Paulística
Prado emphasizes his pride and nostalgia for the cultural traditions
of São Paulo and Minas Gerais. To him, the only cultural elements
that maintained their originality in modern Brazilian culture were
traces of the Bandeirante colonization of the Brazilian countryside.39
The colonial villages of Minas Gerais were, in his view, the birth-
place of the nation. Prado valued tradition, history, genealogy, and
class distinction, but he also embraced aspects of modernity, inno-
38
For more on Social Darwinism and its basis in “racial determinism,” see
Schwarcz 61-70.
39
In the essay “O caminho das Minas,” Prado not only looks with nostalgia at
some of the traditions of Minas Gerais, but also claims that the best of the mineiro
culture is what was left of the great Bandeirante adventure during colonial times.
He sees only a few living remnants of that culture, especially in the culinary tradi-
tion of Minas Gerais. See Paulística 199-206.
vation, and change. In fact these two aspects cannot be separated in

his definition of historical evolution. As I will demonstrate below,
his characterization of the Bandeirante type emphasized aspects of
an entrepreneurial spirit that Prado saw in modern day rural aristo-
crats. There were aspects of the process of modernization that
caused him a great deal of anxiety, as I mentioned above. Prado had
a very specific idea of who the genuine agents of modernization
were and who were the parasites that hindered that process.
In the preface to Paulística Prado introduces his theory of his-
torical development. He presents a visual rendition of this theory
with an illustration of a wavy diagram. In this diagram, the valleys
represent periods of decline, stagnation, and latency. These low
points in this representation of a historical continuum are always
followed by an ascendant line, which represents the birth of some-
thing new: a reaction to the previous period of stagnation. The se-
quence of alternating states in this wavy line was accompanied by
the following captions: “ascenção, climax, decadência, regener-
ação” (xxv). [ascent, climax, decline, regeneration.]
The cyclical nature of the resurgence of this entrepreneurial
spirit is also telling of the theory behind Prado’s view of history in
general and Brazilian history in particular. The alternation between
periods of latency and periods with outbursts of this entrepreneur-
ial spirit is a formulation that bears resemblance to the discourse of
biological evolutionism. Therefore, Prado’s view of history presup-
posed a conceptualization of the social body as a living organism
with intrinsic characteristics that may disappear for a couple of gen-
erations, but will likely resurface in the future, sometimes in a dif-
ferent social, geographical, and historical context. This principle of
dormancy and resurgence is known as atavism. In fact, atavism is at
the heart of the concept of genealogy, and the “myth of bandeiris-
mo” constitutes the most eloquent example of this tendency in
modern São Paulo. It affected not just the aristocrats’ self-under-
standing, but most of the intellectuals in São Paulo at the time. As
Joseph Love remarks: “For half a century, few literate Paulistas had
doubted that their collective psychology had been inherited from
the bandeirantes, but most emphasized the positive aspects ... It
had fallen to the modern descendants to accept their destiny in
leading the country” (São Paulo 69). Therefore, this atavistic notion
of being indirect descendants of primordial heroes of colonial times
was already deeply ingrained in the Paulista psyche. What Paulo
Prado attempts to do, especially in Paulística, is to give this myth a

“scientific” explanation based on racial theories of the late 1800s.
There is a deterministic evolutionary line that informs all of Pra-
do’s formulations about history, race, culture, and ethnicity. Prado
seemed to imply that social and economic “evolution” was some-
thing inescapable, outside of humanity’s control or planning. His
theory of historical change or movement was not dialectic or even
materialist. These movements of ascent and decline were not ex-
plained, as in classical Marxism, as a struggle between antagonistic
classes (thesis versus antithesis), which would lead to a transforma-
tion (synthesis). Prado’s thesis was in fact anti-materialist. He fre-
quently referred to the highest points in history as the moments
when greed led to corruption with political, moral, and physical
consequences. This corruption, in Prado’s view, was prompted
mostly by miscegenation by way of the contact some elite groups
developed with inferior races. That is what led, according to Prado,
to the weakening of the original spirit of discovery and transforma-
tion. Prado supported this argument with references to colonial his-
tory in Brazil: “Curva ascencional, culminando na expansão
colonisadora e mineira do século XVII, quando a ambição dos
lavageiros e excavadores de ouro e o animo guerreiro substituiram a
gana escravisadora dos primitivos aventureiros (XXV) [An ascending
curve, which culminated in the colonizing and mining expansion of
the 17th century, when the ambition of untrustworthy persons and
gold diggers, as well [the rising of] a warring disposition substitut-
ed the enslaving will of the primitive adventurers.]. At first sight,
Prado’s argument seems to be fraught with of contradictions be-
cause the impetus of the “primitive adventurers” and the disposi-
tion of those untrustworthy gold diggers appear to be identical.
Both groups are described as greedy and violent, but the difference,
in Prado’s view, is that the “primitive adventurers” were the vision-
aries; they were the initiators, and they possessed stronger will and
morals. Therefore, they were the legitimate agents of historical
transformation. The others were imitators and opportunists.
All of these migration movements of epic proportion occurred
due to the entrepreneurial spirit of some social groups. In its purest
state, this spirit was also marked by greed, but in these elite groups
Prado does not see greed as a sign of corruption. In Prado’s view,
only certain groups possess such pure and unrelenting disposition
for work, independence, and the passion for discovery and trans-
formation. The Bandeirantes were, in his view, an “elite” racial

group whose strength only diminished when they encountered and
mixed with other races and ethnicities of weaker physical nature
and of questionable morality. Although Prado purported to explain
broad historical forces with political, economic, social, and ideolog-
ical ramifications, his main argument was based on concepts of race
and ethnicity. In Prado’s view, these superior racial and ethnic
groups, with their recalcitrant spirit of adventure and their will to
explore the unknown, would push humanity ahead in every respect.
This seems to be the core of Prado’s theory of historical movement
and change. Paulo Prado admired the attitude of the visionary, of
those who had high aspirations and who had the courage, physical
strength, and will to risk everything in the pursuit of that dream.
These special attributes were rare, and only the fittest of the race
possessed them.
However, Prado was not simply trying to create a myth around
the historical figure of the Bandeirante. His atavistic thesis was
meant to explain problems in the present and to propose solutions
based on the lessons that should be learned from history. That is
why, in the afore-mentioned essay “O martyrio do café,” which ad-
dresses issues of the coffee business in the 1920s, the same argu-
ment was made: The coffee business was going well when it was
controlled by “farmers” like the Prados. The entire enterprise start-
ed to decline only when immoral speculators, foreign investors, cor-
rupt government leaders, and other opportunists jumped on the
bandwagon. He creates an exact homology between the experience
of the Bandeirantes in colonial times and that of the coffee aristoc-
racy in modern times, hence the atavistic character of his view of
history, and especially modernity.
This explanation for the decline of entire civilizations leads to
the next step in Prado’s theory. In the opening essay, “O caminho
do mar” [“The Way to the Sea”], Prado develops in more concrete
terms not only the foundation for the subsequent essays in Paulísti-
ca but also for his political critique in Retrato do Brasil. The essay is
divided in three parts, each concerning one aspect of Hippolyte
Taine’s notion of Race, Milieu, and Moment. The initial and central
argument of this essay, which describes the physical environment
(milieu), is predicated on the notion of insularity. Prado argues here
that those superior qualities displayed by elite groups can only be
maintained if this like-minded and racially homogeneous group can
succeed in warding off weakening external elements. The case he

builds attempts to explain the racial and ethnic origins of the proto-
typical Paulista character, the Bandeirante, and the historical impor-
tance of the phenomenon of the Entradas e Bandeiras, the expedi-
tions that these heroes made into the interior of the country in
order to capture slaves and also find gold and precious stones.
The conditions that favored the formation of this unique “racial
type,” according to Prado, were to be found in the geographical
particularities of the state of São Paulo, which in colonial times was
São Vicente. While the village of São Vicente was located on the
seaside, the elevation that marked the position of the territory in
which the present-day city of São Paulo is located much farther into
the countryside. Prado emphasizes the difficulties that travelers and
settlers had to face in order to gain access to the village of São
Paulo, which was believed to be a gateway to the gold and silver
mines and to precious stones (Paulística 4). Prado cites numerous
texts from colonial documents in which travellers and authorities
complain about the dangers they faced when travelling from the
coast to the village of São Paulo. In his assessment, this difficulty
posed by nature fulfilled a positive selective function in the forma-
tion of the unique Paulista character: “Nas predestinações histori-
cas e ethnicas do Paulista essa função selectiva do Caminho do Mar
é incontestável e providencial para a formação do seu caracter e ty-
po. A população do planalto se conservou affastada dos contagios
decadentes da raça descobridora (11). [In the historical and ethnic
predestinations of the Paulista this selective function of the Way to
the Sea is unquestionable and favorable for the formation of its
character and type. The population of the higher grounds kept it-
self isolated from the declining [unhealthy] contact with the discov-
erer’s race.]. In this particular section of the essay, the concept of
“geographical isolation,” developed by Moritz Wagner, is key.40
What happened in colonial São Paulo was, in Prado’s view, a
process of “natural selection,” performed by an almost impenetra-
ble physical landscape that forced these individuals into isolation.
This isolation fostered inbreeding, which helped preserve the most
distinct characteristics of the mamaluco (the offspring of a Euro-
pean and an Amerindian).41 Also because of these severe physical
40
In Retrato do Brasil, Prado cites Moritz Wagner again with respect to the ge-
ographical isolation of São Paulo. See Retrato 98.
41
Currently, in Brazilian Portuguese the word mostly used is “mameluco.”
conditions, the individuals of this “new race” were, in his view,

stronger than each of the elements of their ancestry.
However, Prado identified the racial components of this
“Paulista type” as the result of the mixing between the “not-so-
white Portuguese” settlers and the natives [indigenous peoples].
Prado argued that the Portuguese people who thrived in this region
(modern day São Paulo city) were not the typical white Portuguese.
They had much darker complexions and meaner dispositions. His
theory is that these Portuguese settlers were mostly “Cristãos
Novos” (17) [“New Christians”]. This was the term used to refer to
Jews who converted into Christianity. They were entrepreneurial,
independent arrivistes, and the natives were best suited for the
toughness of the land. The resulting mix was the unique mamaluco,
which, in Prado’s view, became a stable and defined race by the end
of the sixteenth century:
Ao findar o seculo XVI, o caldeamento dos elementos ethnicos

estava, para assim dizer, realisado no planalto e, com os caracter-
isticos de uma raça nova, ia surgir o Paulista. Durante quasi dois
seculos a sua acção na historia geral da colonia sera continua e
especial. O processo de seggregamento, contribuindo tão pode-
rosamente para lhe dar a feição especifica, já o praparava para a
tarefa que lhe iria competir na formação da nacionalidade
brasileira (21-22).
At the end of the sixteenth century, the fusion of the ethnic ele-
ments was, so to speak, realized in the highlands and, with the
features of a new race, the Paulista, would appear. For almost
two centuries the [Paulista] role in the general history of the
colony will be continuous and special. The segregation process,
which contributed so powerfully to give the Paulista its specific
features, had already prepared [him] to the task that would fall
on him in the formation of the Brazilian nationality.
The argument is that this specific racial mixing between natives and
Portuguese of a special ethnicity (Jews) was favored by the segrega-
tion provided by such harsh physical environment. These special
conditions gave the mamaluco/Bandeirante its unique personality
and outstanding physical attributes. In order to conclude his argu-
ment, Prado explains what moral attributes were most prominent
in this superior race: “O mamaluco ... appareceu como um inde-
pendente insubmisso às leis da metrópole e às ordens dos seus rep-

resentantes . . .. Esta semente de independencia, de vida livre, e de
falar alto e forte, germinou e frutificou durante dois seculos na his-
toria paulista.” (22) [The mamaluco ... appeared as an independent
[individual] defiant to the laws of the colonizer and to the orders of
his representatives... This seed of independence, of freedom, and of
speaking loud and strong, germinated and blossomed for two cen-
turies in Paulista history.].
In the last pages of the essay Prado narrates the decline of the
transformative movement of the “Bandeiras.” This degeneration oc-
curred, according to Prado, because of the inevitable “caldeamen-
to” [the fusion] of the intrinsic elements of the mamaluco race
when it mixes with other races. This process provoked by the con-
tinuous expansion of the mining activities leads to the weakening of
the great Paulista race:
Causas diversas contribuiram para essa decadencia, mas nenhu-

ma talvez tão importante como a abertura de novos caminhos
que vinham interromper o isolamento das antigas populações....
A aristocracia rural, que era o ultimo reduto do typo ancestral,
degenera, se extingue e se tranforma no industrialismo cosmopo-
lita, e sem o laço intimo e profundo que liga ao solo.... O velho
Paulista, aos poucos, se mudára no arrivista pacifico, que a tudo
antepõe a paz submissa e o duvidoso enriquecimento (36, 37, 38)
Diverse factors contributed to this decadence, but maybe none

was so important as the opening of the new ways that came to in-
terrupt the isolation of the old populations.... The rural aristoc-
racy, which was the last example of this ancestral type, degener-
ates, it extinguishes itself and transforms itself in the
cosmopolitan industrialism, and without the intimate and deep
link that connects it to the soil.... The old Paulista, little by little,
will change into a peaceful arriviste, who puts his submissive
peace and his suspicious ways of getting rich ahead of everything
else.
Just as the Bandeirante of colonial times lost his force by mixing

with inferior races, the modern day Bandeirante had become a pas-
sive nouveau riche as the old rural aristocracy adhered to the values
of the bourgeoisie. This seems to be Prado’s reasoning for the de-
cline of the great entrepreneurial spirit. Isolation (or insulation) is
what keeps the “race” strong, while contact weakens it. This was a
direct criticism toward the rural aristocracy, which, in Prado’s view,
had become apathetic and given in to the easy pleasures of bour-
geois life. Prado was clearly addressing the aristocracy here. In the
new preface to the 1934 edition of Paulística he apologizes to them
in recognition for their uprising against GetúlioVargas’ Aliança Li-
beral, which took power through a coup d’état in 1930. In 1932, the
“Revolução Constitucional” took place with the support of the cof-
fee aristocracy (Levine 8; Love 121-22). Prado recognizes this act of
bravery and continues to support the separation of the North from
the South in Brazil:
O autor deste livro confessa ter commetido um grande erro, não

esperando pacientemente o desenrolar dos phenomenos ... Não
viu que no Paulista do seculo XX amadurecia a mesma semente
que antes o fizera escravisador de indios, buscador de ouro ... A
arrecadação de rendas federaes, as estatisticas do commercio, a
contribuição industrial, o movimento bancario–demonstram de
sobra essa superioridade economica do Sul. E o Sul–dizia Capis-
trano–o Sul, no fundo é São Paulo ... Tudo assim parece separar
o Norte do Sul ... De facto, em tão vasto territorio como o nosso,
seria insensatez nivelar as nossas differenciações, para favorecer
uma centralisação que significaria, dentro de pouco tempo, o
odio, a revolta, o desastre final. (Paulística x-xvii)
The author of this book confesses having committed a great mis-

take, not waiting patiently for the development of the phenome-
na ... He did not see that inside the 20th century Paulista was
ripening the same seed that had made him [before] the enslaver
of indians, a searcher for gold ... Federal tax collection, the statis-
tics of commerce, industrial activity, and the movement in the
banks–demonstrate this economic superiority of the South. And
the South–Capistrano [de Abreu] would say–deep down the
South is São Paulo ... Everything seems to separate the North
from the South ... In fact, in such a vast territory as ours, it would
be unwise to level our differences, in favor of a centralization
that would mean, in a short period of time, hatred, revolt, and
the final disaster.
Prado is as emphatic as he could be with regard to the notion of

Paulista supremacy and the true meaning of his nationalism. His
was not a discourse of integration, but of insularity and dismember-
ment. Prado continues to incite the local aristocracy against the

centralizing tendencies of the Vargas regime even after the failure of
the Constitutionalist Revolution in 1932. He warns of the dangers
of centralization by predicting hatred and revolt in the near future,
but his discourse incites these feelings. His warnings already consti-
tute the expression of this hatred and a call for a revolt against the
“North,” the inferior and unfit portion of Brazil.
Paulística is more than a collection of historical essays about São
Paulo. It is the platform for Prado’s political views and the argu-
ments he would develop in his subsequent book. This discourse is
marked not only by nostalgia but also by hard feelings toward those
Prado saw as parasitical entrepreneurs who took advantage of the
progress set in motion by coffee aristocrats. It is also a self-protec-
tive discourse hostile toward other parts of Brazil essentially sup-
ports a separatist argument. Traces of this separatism, which be-
came evident in the preface of 1934 edition of Paulística, were
already present in Retrato do Brasil. Also, the same deterministic
theories guide and legitimize his evaluation of Brazilian history, to
which I turn next.
RETRATO DO BRASIL: A NATION DOOMED BY RACIAL MISCEGENA-

TION
Paulo Prado believed that many of the problems he saw in

Brazil in the 1920s could and should be explained through an ex-
amination of its history. In Paulística Prado resorts to myth not only
to glorify São Paulo’s past, but also to build a sense of pride in the
present role of São Paulo in modern Brazil. In Retrato do Brasil, on
the other hand, he uses these same myths to describe the problems
that afflicted the country. In most of this long essay on the “sadness
of the Brazilian people,” the tone is somber and the prospects for
the future of the nation are gloomy. Paulo Prado adopted an “im-
pressionistic” approach42 to both counteract the prevailing Roman-
42
In the “post-Scriptum” to Retrato do Brasil Prado wrote: “Este ‘Retrato’ foi
feito com um quadro impressionista. Dissolveram-se as cores e no impreciso das
tonalidades as linhas nítidas do desenho e, como se diz em gíria de artista, das ‘mas-
sas e volumes,’ que são na composição histórica a cronologia e os fatos” (152–53).
[The ‘Portrait’ was made as an impressionistic painting. The colors were dissolved
ticism he saw among Brazilian intellectuals, and to construct histor-

ical “scenes” of moral, physical, cultural, and ideological decay. The
book is divided into four chapters, each devoted to what Prado
identified as one of the capital sins of Brazilians: Luxúria, Cobiça,
Tristeza, Romantismo [Lust, Greed, Sadness, and Romanticism].
No one would expect that Paulo Prado, one of the richest and most
successful businessmen in Brazil, would have such negative views.
Here, as in the essay “O martyrio do café,” Prado predicts a loom-
ing economic disaster of which the political leaders of that time
were completely unaware (181).
There are many passages in Retrato in which the explanations
that Prado provides to the conquest and development of the Brazil-
ian countryside also reveal the backbone of his theory of history. He
employs the same geographical and racial determinism in his dis-
course to explain the cause of many of Brazil’s problems. These
problems that Prado identified in the present were, in his view, de-
termined by specific historical developments. The history that he
tries to trace is in many ways his own imagined history. It is the
mythological narrative of legitimization of those he saw as his an-
cestors.
In Paulo Prado’s writings there is a search for an identity that is
both collective and personal. Even though Prado condemns the Ro-
manticism he sees in the Brazilian intellectual tradition, his theory
of history is not devoid of romanticism either. In both Paulística
and Retrato do Brasil, his portrayal of the Bandeirantes is informed
by a similar ethos of heroism that informed epic Romantic narra-
tives. Prado’s concept of race is closely related to Hipollyte Taine’s.
It is an amalgamation of race and nation. The events and actions
that really transformed the landscape of Brazil in the colonial era
were, in his opinion, determined by the collective spirit of the times
(the Zeitgeist). He frequently refers to something that moves people
collectively toward the same goals and directions. The racial elites
in colonial Brazil, the Bandeirantes, were better equipped to imple-
ment a plan of action for such a transformation. They were the ones
who had grand visions for a better future:
in the imprecise tones and the clear lines of the drawing and, as they say in the
artists’ jargon, the ‘masses and volumes,’ which are in the historical composition the
chronology and the facts.] For more on Prado’s use of an impressionistic approach
in Retrato do Brasil, see Berriel 151-61.
Para essa luta sobrehumana, as circumstancias do meio, da raça e

da educação, tinham preparado e affeiçoado admiravelmente o
“heroe providencial” no typo do bandeirante de São Paulo. Do
cruzamento do forte sangue portuguez quinhentista, dos
francezes, castelhanos e flamengos com as cunhãs, o mamaluco
surgiu perfeitamente apparelhado para o seu destino histórico
(Paulística 122–24) (emphasis added)
For this superhuman struggle, the circumstances of the environ-

ment, race and education had admirably prepared the “providen-
cial hero” in the São Paulo bandeirante type. From the mixing of
the strong Portuguese blood of the 1500s, of the French, Castil-
ian and Flamencos with the [female] indigenous, the mameluco
appeared perfectly suited for his historical destiny.
Prado recasts this argument in Retrato. The argument is made in

defense of miscegenation, but with some reservation as to what
kind of miscegenation is desirable. The environmental conditions
that favored the appearance of the São Paulo mamaluco/Ban-
deirante disappeared as the landscape was transformed by progress,
linking São Paulo to the sea and to other parts of Brazil. The Ban-
deirantes had long intermixed with other races, which caused the
degeneration of that great race:
A história de São Paulo em que essa amalgamação se fez intensa-

mente, favorecida pelo segregamento, é prova contundente das
vantagens da mescla do branco com o índio. Hoje, entretanto, de-
pois de se desenrolarem gerações e gerações desse cruzamento, o
caboclo miserável–pálido epígono–é o descendente da esplêndida
fortaleza do bandeirante mamaluco. (Retrato 160)
The history of São Paulo where this amalgamation occurred in-

tensely, favored by segregation, is a remarkable proof of the ad-
vantages of the mixing of whites and indigenous people. Today,
however, after the unraveling of many generations of this mix, the
miserable caboclo–pale imitation–is the descendent of the splendid
force of the mamaluco bandeirante.
Prado was very fond of the “Bandeirante race,” but he con-

demned the excesses to which this quintessential Paulista type was
prone. Prado was not so proud of the other races that composed
the population of colonial São Paulo, and he condemned racial

mixing. The arguments in Retrato do Brasil are based on the same
set of principles Prado utilized in Paulística. Insulation, caused by
São Paulo’s inhospitable environment, protected the population
from contamination and created the conditions for the develop-
ment of a superior race. Before this fortunate racial mixing “event”
in São Paulo, the colonization process was done, according to Pra-
do, in a self-destructive and immoral manner. Each of the four
chapters in Retrato addresses a specific “moral” flaw that has been
deeply ingrained in Brazilian culture.
The disastrous outcomes of the first encounters between the
Portuguese colonizer and the local indigenous people are the focus
of Retrato do Brasil’s introductory chapter “Luxúria” [Lust]. In this
chapter Paulo Prado criticizes the lack of moral values of both the
colonizer and the colonized. The author starts by describing how
the colonizer, by leaving the zone of temperate climate of the coast,
ended up encountering the humid environment of the Amazon,
covered by its luscious vegetation (9-14). This physical environment
caused in the European colonizer an exacerbation of the senses.
According to Prado, even before reaching the Americas, the Euro-
pean colonizers’ mentality was already conditioned by a dream, a
preconceived notion that they were going to find a tropical par-
adise. They were enticed by the vision of an Eden and the possibili-
ty of leading a life free of the constraints of the civilized world (23-
24). For these men, Europe represented repression, while the
voluptuousness of the virginal nature was an invitation to a life in
which everything was permitted. The Europeans’ fantasies were on-
ly further encouraged by the sexual behavior of the native people:
“O indígena, por seu turno, era um animal lascivo, vivendo sem
nenhum constrangimento na satisfação de seus desejos carnais”
(24). [The indigenous [peoples] were, in their turn, lascivious ani-
mals, living without restraint in the satisfaction of their carnal de-
sires.]. He argues that this hypnotic state of increased sexual drive
promoted the dissolution of morals, and it was under such circum-
stances that the mixed population of the colony grew (27). The in-
troduction of the black races, according to Prado, did not correct
this problem. In fact, it only favored the development of this
“superexcitação erótica” [erotic hyper excitement] that so pro-
foundly marked the character of the colonizer (43). Prado’s evalua-
tion of the racial mixing of these first encounters is overtly negative
because he presupposes that these are inferior and “imperfectible

races.” Indigenous and blacks, in his view, are both morally and
physically inferior to the European races. The process of misce-
genation under these circumstances could only contribute to fur-
ther moral and physical degeneration.43
The lack of morals of these first settlers was only matched by
their obsession with finding gold, silver, and precious stones. This is
the premise of the chapter “Cobiça” [greed]. The excessive greed of
the early settler was also something that they brought along even be-
fore they reached the American continent. It affected previous colo-
nizing efforts all over the globe, including Asia and Africa (46-47).
In Brazil, this obsession with getting rich inspired the phenomenon
of the Entradas e Bandeiras, during which there was two main goals:
enslaving indigenous peoples and finding riches: “Quando se dissi-
pava a miragem da mina ficava como consolo o índio escravizado”
(55). [When the mirage of the [gold] mine disappeared there re-
mained the solace of [having] enslaved the indian.]. This was, ac-
cording to Prado, a “diabolical obsession” that in a way ended up
destroying a “formidable and dynamic race” (62). In the name of
gold, the Bandeirantes committed many crimes against the populace,
especially in the Jesuit Missions. However, Prado still found these
actions to be somewhat justifiable: “Os crimes, que Vieira assinala,
não deslustravam o valor da façanha” (70). [The crimes, which [An-
tônio] Vieira describes, did not diminish the value of the achieve-
ment.]. However, Prado admits that the Bandeirantes were never
able to enjoy the benefit of their riches. They devoted all their ener-
gy into this dream of getting rich, which was always fleeting and de-
ceiving: “Com essa ilusão vinha morrer sofrendo da mesma fome, da
mesma sêde, da mesma loucura. Ouro, Ouro, Ouro.” (88) [With
this illusion [they] came to die suffering from the same hunger, from
the same thirst, from the same madness. Gold, Gold, Gold.].
43
This argument seems to contradict Prado’s main thesis that the miscegena-
tion of the Portuguese with the indigenous women formed a better race. However,
it is worth remembering that Prado’s definition of the mixing of races that took
place in São Paulo happened in very peculiar circumstances, in which the environ-
ment and the ethnicity of the Portuguese settler in that particular region was differ-
ent than the other white Portuguese. His argument is that both the indigenous peo-
ple who lived in the São Paulo region and the Portuguese settlers who established
themselves there were resilient types and the inhospitable environment provided a
“center of isolation,” which prevented contamination of other, less apt, races.
Prado argues next that in the struggle to satisfy their insatiable

appetite for gold and sex, the colonizer had no energy left to devote
to higher religious, aesthetic, political, intellectual, or artistic ideals.
This is the main argument of the chapter “Tristeza” [sadness]. The
settler’s lack of moral boundaries and the sexual and material ex-
cesses committed at that time led, in Prado’s view, to the creation of
a sad race/nation: “A melancholia dos abusos venéreos e a melan-
colia dos que vivem na idéia fixa do enriquecimento . . . são vincos
fundos na nossa psique racial.” (101) [The melancholy of the sexual
abuses and the melancholy of those who live with the obsessive idea
of becoming rich . . . [these] are deep marks in our racial psyche.].
Similar arguments are made against the perverse influence of Ro-
manticism in Brazilian culture, which is the theme of the fourth and
last chapter, “Romantismo” [Romanticism]. The Romantic ideal, in
Prado’s view, was always marked by morbid obsessions, exaggera-
tions, and self-destructive behavior. To Prado, Romanticism was
characterized by two “pathological” principles: “hipertrofia da
imaginação e exaltação da sensibilidade” (145) [hypertrophy [exag-
geration] of the imagination and exaltation of the senses]. Prado
saw a connection between Romanticism in the cultural milieu and
the kind of “wordy Liberalism” practiced in Brazilian politics. In
his view, Romanticism tended to deform everything, and the Ro-
mantic influence in Brazilian politics deformed the social body
(145). As an antidote to this pathological state of mind promoted
by Romanticism, Prado advocated the rationality of the “revolução
modernista” (147). He argued that, in spite of the growing influ-
ence of Modernism in Brazil, the prevailing intellectual mentality
was still attached to the old values and the verbose rhetoric of Ro-
manticism.
It is, however, in the “Post-Scriptum” to Retrato do Brasil that
Paulo Prado brings into perspective all the previous “historical” ar-
guments against the way things were done in Brazil. The negative
influence of the historical past Prado previously described could be
seen in the deplorable state of the public affairs in the present.44
44
Prado argues that due to the tyranny, incompetence, and greed of the politi-
cal leadership everything malfunctions. Public hygiene lives off the sparse donations
from the United States; the police protect the criminals; the railways are decrepit,
causing constant accidents and still charges the highest rates for its use, agriculture
needs more immigrant workers and is losing competitiveness (171). The coffee
business utilizes the valorization policies, but does not tend to the problem of the
One of the first issues that Prado discusses also has to do with race,
more specifically, the “problem of miscegenation.” This time he ad-
dresses the situation of blacks in Brazil:
Os americanos do Norte costumam dizer que Deus fez o branco,

que Deus fez o negro, mas que o diabo fez o mulato. É o ponto
mais sensível do caso brasileiro. O que se chama a arianização do
habitante do Brasil é um fato de observação diária. Já com 1/8 de
sangue negro, a aparência Africana se apaga por completo: é o
fenômeno do passing nos Estados Unidos. (159-60)
North Americans usually say that God made the white [people],
that God made the black [people], but that the devil made the
mulatto. It is the most sensitive issue of the Brazilian problem.
What is called the arianization [whitening] of the Brazilian in-
habitants is a fact observable daily. Already with 1/8 of black
blood, the African features are completely erased: it is the phe-
nomenon of passing, in the United States.
Prado at first admits that blacks were not “enemies,” as they were
in the United States. In reference to Brazil, he argues that blacks
were born and lived together with whites and mestizos, but he in
fact hopes that all signs of blackness will disappear one day. Black-
ness is seen here as a problem, as a handicap that could be over-
come. The whitening phenomenon that he says happens daily is
probably a veiled reference to the “teoria do branqueamento”
[whitening theories] that had gained currency in Brazil since the
late 1800s.45 Prado still tries to say something kinder about blacks.
He affirms that blacks were healthy in their primitive groups in
Africa (159). Later, Prado concludes his thoughts on the “problem”
of blacks in Brazil with a remark in which his hope for the success
of eugenics is expressed more clearly:
increased costs of production. There is abuse of power in the Justice system and the
Army is inefficient (172). Illiteracy among the poor was one hundred per cent,
while the intellectual life of the country was weak and plagued by imitation (173).
45
Thomas Skidmore affirms that the “high period of racist thought” in Brazil oc-
curred between 1880 and 1920 (Black into White 46). This belief in the advantages of
ridding the populace of its blackness was just one aspect of the eugenics movement in
Brazil. According to Nancy Leys Stepan, the eugenics movement in Brazil was stronger
in its advocacy of hygiene than in racial policies. There was a mix of “hard” and “soft”
eugenics and a great complexity in the theories that informed both sides of the move-
ment. For more on this topic, see Stepan, “Eugenics in Brazil, 1917-1940.”
Na sua complexidade o problema estadunidense não tem

solução, dizem os cientistas americanos, a não ser que se recorra
à esterilização do negro. No Brasil, se há mal, ele está feito, irre-
mediavelmente: esperemos, na lentidão do processo cósmico, a
decifração do enigma com a serenidade dos experimentadores de
laboratório. Bastarão 5 ou 6 gerações, para estar concluída a ex-
periência. (162)
In its complexity the United States [racial] problem does not

have a solution, according to scientists, unless they resort to the
sterilization of blacks. In Brazil, if there is damage, it has been ir-
revocably done: let us wait, in the slowness of the cosmic
process, the deciphering of this enigma in the serenity of the lab-
oratory experiments. Six or seven generations will be enough for
this experiment to be concluded.
Prado seems to be talking about an experiment in social control

that is being fully implemented, which may or may not be accu-
rate.46 Once again, the author conveys the idea that he really hopes
this experiment works, and that all vestiges of blackness can be re-
moved. Prado does not question whether or not such outcome is
something desirable to all involved. He takes for granted that the
elimination of blackness, at least of its physical appearance, will
solve the “problem” of the Brazilian blacks. There is a morbid, cyn-
ical, and sinister character to the way Prado describes this slow
process, pleading with the reader to be patient until the racial enig-
ma is deciphered. His attitude here seems to contradict the atavism
and determinism that informs his view of the ever-lasting influence
of the Bandeirante/mamaluco on modern day Paulistas. That is, ac-
cording to the logic of Prado’s own racial determinism, even if this
experiment with blacks succeeded in eliminating physical features
of blackness, this would not prevent these traits (or at least the spir-
it of blackness) to resurface in future generations. If race is some-
thing inescapable, then there are no experiments that could over-
come this deterministic law.
46
According to Skidmore, “the theory of ‘whitening’ was accepted by most the
Brazilian elite during the years between 1889 and 1914” (64). The author argues
that this was a theory peculiar to Brazil. This theory was never turned into an offi-
cial set of policies toward the goal of whitening. Stepan argues that “faith in whiten-
ing itself, based on the racialist assumption of the superiority of the European race,
rendered an extreme eugenics unnecessary in Brazil” (144).
Perhaps there is nothing really exceptional or shocking in such an

attitude if one considers that this is coming from an “enlightened”
aristocrat in the late 1920s. Notions of racial determinism, mixed
with geographical determinism–a set of theories that would later be
called Social Darwinism–were still highly influential among the intel-
lectual elites in Brazil until the early 1930s (Schwarcz 70, Skidmore
46, Stepan 110-45). Paulo Prado is still a little behind his time, be-
cause he is writing in the mid to late 1920s, when the validity of these
theories had already started to be questioned. His references are all
from the second half of the nineteenth century. One of the main in-
consistencies of Prado’s thinking is that, in order to react against the
evils of Liberalism, he uses the same discourse and the same set of
theories that supported and legitimized Liberalism. It is also impor-
tant to understand that these were the most popular and revered set
of theories in Brazil during the Belle Époque, but they constitute the
core of what modernists combatted, especially in the 1930s.
Retrato do Brasil caused a great deal of controversy and dis-
agreement among that generation of intellectuals. But the book was
widely read. Not much was said about the racist component of Pra-
do’s arguments. An interesting defense of Paulo Prado’s pessimism
came from Mário de Andrade, who was himself a mulatto and who
could have felt offended by Prado’s degrading comments about his
own physical type in the book. Andrade, whose views of the nation
tended to be more positive, approved the basic message of pes-
simism of Paulo Prado: “Paulo Prado é uma inteligência fazendeira
prática. Fazendeiro sai na porta de casa, olha o céu, pensa: vai
chover . . .. pouco importa se o céu esteja puro, fazendeiro sentiu que
ia chover . . .. A moral do Retrato do Brasil é bem e unicamente essa:
‘vai chover’”(Turista aprendiz 317). [Paulo Prado has a farmer’s in-
telligence. A farmer goes out the door, looks up to the skies, thinks:
it’s going to rain . . . it does not matter if the sky is clear, the farmer
felt it was going to rain . . . The moral of Retrato do Brasil is only
this: “it’s going to rain.”]. Mário de Andrade reinforces Prado’s
own recursive rhetorical strategy to speak as a “farmer,” to convey
the wisdom of a simple but experienced man whose uncanny ability
to predict the future comes from his intimate relationship with na-
ture. That Retrato do Brasil became a classic in its own time and
that it was widely read among the intellectual circles attests, at least
in part, to the fact that the modernist generation was also still influ-
enced by these deterministic views.
In conclusion, the political and economic analysis Prado pro-

vides in his essays and books shows a high level of understanding of
the most pressing issues of that time. His diagnosis was usually cor-
rect, which is evidenced by the fact that most of his predictions for
the collapse of the coffee-based economy turned out to be true. Al-
so, he was correct in pointing out that the valorization scheme,
which was meant to solve the problem of oversupply, ended up at-
tracting more producers. It not only aggravated the oversupply
problem but also placed Brazil and coffee producers in a position
of increased dependency on foreign capital. These are arguments
with which most historians and economists agree (Faoro 602-07,
Love, São Paulo 177-211, Levi 153, Prado Júnior 237-41). However,
Prado and the Prados’ conglomerate were not only favored by these
protectionist policies but they ultimately supported them. Prado
was well-informed in part because he was involved with the politi-
cal and economic aspects of the coffee business, but he did not as-
sume responsibility and simply accused the government and other
agents involved in this scheme of creating the disaster he so accu-
rately predicted.
With regard to his role as a patron of the arts, Prado also played
a very important role in the development and renovation of the
artistic and literary spheres in São Paulo and Brazil. He had the vi-
sion and the courage to invest not only in local cultural activities,
but also to foster important exchanges between Brazilian and Euro-
pean artists and intellectuals. He acted as a visionary “minister of
culture” of sorts at a time when this was not a priority of the gov-
ernment. Even though he may have had personal, political, and
economic interests in this venture, the stimulus he provided con-
tributed to the building of a cultural legacy that had, and still has,
tremendous impact in cultural developments in Brazil.
On the other hand, Prado’s deterministic views with regard to
history, racial, ethnic, and cultural aspects of São Paulo and Brazil
severely limit his analysis and his critique of the ills of modernity.
By reducing historical, social, and cultural developments to racial
and geographical determinisms, Prado provides a very dated and
extremely prejudiced account of the social-economic and political
problems in the 1920s. His critique of the (then) present state of af-
fairs, anchored by Social Darwinism, prescribes a set of reactionary
positions with emphasis on insulation, separatism, protectionism,
elitism, and racial discrimination. Prado refers to ethnic minorities

as morally, physically, and intellectually inferior and blames them
for most of the problems he sees in the nation. Also, his deploy-
ment of racial determinism is selective, and it contradicts the princi-
ples of most of the theories that inform his arguments. If he was rig-
orous in applying concepts of racial determinism from authors such
as Gobineau, Renan, or Taine, the mamaluco would have to be con-
sidered a degenerate and “imperfectible” racial type. Therefore, the
entire theoretical apparatus Prado deploys in order to support his
arguments about the superiority of the mamaluco in fact contradicts
most of his arguments. Overall, Prado’s deterministic views consti-
tute the feeblest and most repulsive aspect of his legacy. This deter-
minism also links Prado to Naturalism and to the intellectual gener-
ation of 1870, which contradicts his position as a modernist and as
a cultural reformer.
In the literature that will be analyzed in the next two chapters, I
will demonstrate that some of the concepts that inform Paulo Pra-
do’s ideas are also present in part of the poetry of Mário de An-
drade and Oswald de Andrade. I do not claim that the Andrades
subscribed to the same racist precepts, but traces of this Paulista
supremacy can be found in many of their writings. Their profuse
references to the Bandeirantes are often ironic, but as I will demon-
strate, this irony serves a range of political positions, none of which
is a direct confrontation or negation of the myth. These positions
do not align perfectly with that of the affirmation of the myth advo-
cated by Paulo Prado, but the trope in the poetry of the Andrades
is not deployed to mock or combat the Bandeirante mythical signifi-
cance (as I will demonstrate in the next two chapters). I am not im-
plying that Paulo Prado created the myth of bandeirismo either. The
Bandeirante trope appears everywhere in the writings of almost
every paulista at the time, as Joseph Love remarks. In the poetry of
Mário and Oswald de Andrade this myth is often invoked to legit-
imize, to express their pride in such tradition, and to “update” the
myth by placing it in a modern context. The argument that São
Paulo was historically the center, the alpha and omega, of the mod-
ernizing process in the country, as well as the notion of São Paulo as
the founder and creator of Minas Gerais are all concepts that struc-
ture Paulo Prado’s essays and also influence Mário and Oswald de
Andrade’s discourse. These conceptual constructions are all part of
a discourse that metaphorically affirms the hegemony of São Paulo

in the federation. It is also a discourse that positions the group of
intellectuals linked to Modernism in São Paulo as the highest au-
thority to arbitrate national history.
CHAPTER FOUR
MÁRIO DE ANDRADE AND THE

QUEST FOR THE PURE NATIONAL1
critique of Mário de Andrade’s ideas and concepts that I will

T HE
propose in this chapter focuses on a relatively small, yet impor-
tant, part of his literary legacy. As a poet, prose writer, folklorist, art
and music scholar, literary critic, and public intellectual, Mário de
Andrade left a vast and wide-ranging intellectual legacy, which has
inspired other intellectuals and cultural movements in Brazil. The
centrality of his work in Brazilian Modernism is unquestionable. In
fact, as far as Modernism in São Paulo is concerned, both of the An-
drades (Mário and Oswald) produced the most important and insti-
gating pieces of work of the early modernist period. Because of the
vastness of his intellectual work and the changes, reevaluations, and
maturing of Mário de Andrade as a writer, it is necessary to contex-
tualize carefully the pieces of work under analysis. The author’s mul-
ti-faceted literary persona resists homogeneous interpretations. The
multiplicity of Andrade’s voices is best defined by his opening verse
to “Eu sou trezentos,” a poem from 1929: “Eu sou trezentos, sou
trezentos e cinquenta” (Poesias completas 157) [I am three hundred,
I am three hundred and fifty.]. In spite of the multiplicity of An-
drade’s voices, there is a tendency to see his work as a coherent
whole. In the introduction to Mário de Andrade’s speech at the Ita-
1
Parts of this chapter have appeared in “Private Patronage In Early Brazilian
Modernism,” Luso-Brazilian Review, specifically the analysis of the poem “Noturno
de Belo Horizonte”.
173
maraty, Augusto de Almeida Filho made the following remarks: “Se

existem contradições em suas obras, são contradições de superfície...
a tessitura de seu espírito e o âmago de seu pensamento é um só; a
sua unidade é absoluta e harmônica” (Introduction, O movimento
modernista 9) [If there are contradictions in his works, they are su-
perficial ones,... the texture of his spirit and the core of his thinking
is one; its unity is absolute and harmonious.].2
Indeed, I see the need for a reexamination of the texts and the
context in which these texts appear because there was (and maybe
there still is) a clear tendency on the part of most critics of Mário de
Andrade’s work to generalize their assessment of his work, especial-
ly with regard to the 1920s poetry and prose, which are seen as the
most experimental examples of literature of that decade. As I ex-
plained in the first two chapters, early modernist productions are
generally seen as the expression of a radical aesthetic and ideologi-
cal break with the past. Although I agree with the arguments re-
garding aesthetic innovation, I contend that interpretations that fo-
cus mostly on the formal aspects of modernist authors tend to
simplify, homogenize, and ultimately impoverish the complexity of
the modernist ruptures and continuities with past traditions. There-
fore, my critique of Andrade’s texts is not intended as a devaluation
of his work and legacy. My analysis is intended primarily as a re-
sponse to the prescribed readings that framed the reception of
Modernism throughout most of the twentieth century and still in-
fluence the interpretation of the modernists’ work. I will argue that,
despite the attempted ideological break with the fin-de-siècle men-
tality and the notable aesthetic innovations introduced by Mário de
Andrade, many elements in his content reveal traces of social and
ideological conservatism. I will analyze texts in their complex rela-
tionship with the present at that time, which is marked by ruptures
as well as continuities. These ruptures are expressed both in terms
of form and content. I will focus on the instances in which the au-
thor’s critique of modernity relies on a symbolic reconnection with
certain aspects of the discourse of tradition and with long-standing
elements of Brazilian and paulista culture.
The poems selected here are expressions of poetic voices, and I
want to emphasize the plurality of these voices, which cannot be said
2
This introduction, made in 1942, in the presence of the author, implies that
Mário de Andrade had achieved high stature as an intellectual during his lifetime.
MÁRIO DE ANDRADE AND THE QUEST FOR THE PURE NATIONAL 175
to be self-identical with that of the author or with the intellectual

Mário de Andrade. My interpretation of these texts will focus on
certain ideas, concepts, values, and attitudes that I recognize in
these texts. My analysis will privilege aspects that critics have his-
torically avoided or missed. In doing so, I do not propose to con-
struct a harmoniously balanced representation of Mário de An-
drade’s entire oeuvre. My critique applies only to the texts under
analysis, which are expressions of certain aspects of the author’s
work, but which are not the only key to decipher the author’s entire
body of work. I will deliberately focus on aspects that could be
deemed contradictory, inconsistent, and sometimes conservative in
these texts. I do not believe that all these adjectives have any trans-
historical value. I am aware of the fact that what I may see as nega-
tive or conservative in these texts today could have been exactly
what made them so appealing at the time of their publication and
through many years. In order to avoid such anachronism, it is nec-
essary to look closely at the issues that were at stake at the time.
This chapter is divided into three sections. In the first section I
will provide a brief summary of Mário de Andrade’s origins and ca-
reer. I will also comment on Andrade’s connection to Paulo Prado
with emphasis on the ideas that these two intellectuals shared as
well as the differences between them. Subsequently, I will summa-
rize Mário de Andrade’s career in the public sector, which includes
his experience as Director of the Departamento de Cultura de São
Paulo as well as his collaboration in several projects with Getúlio
Vargas’ Minister of Culture, Gustavo Capanema, at the level of the
federal cultural institutions. I will pay special attention to the au-
thor’s ideas about what constituted national art and literature, his
interest in ethnography, and his conceptualization of popular cul-
ture. The third section includes analyses of selected poems from
Paulicéia desvairada (1922) and one poem from O clã do jaboti
(1927), “Noturno de Belo Horizonte,” which originally appeared
in 1924 when it was published in the third issue of the periodical
Estética.3
3
Estética was an avant-garde periodical published in Rio de Janeiro by Sérgio
Buarque de Holanda and Prudente de Morais Filho. The poem “Noturno de Be-
lo Horizonte” was first published in the third issue of the periodical in 1925. See
references to the publication of the poem in 1925 in Carlos & Mário 157 and
M. Moraes Correspondência: Mário de Andrade e Manuel Bandeira 210.
MÁRIO DE ANDRADE’S LIFE AND CAREER
Mário de Andrade was born in 1893. His father came from a

humble background and worked as an accountant for most of his
life (Barbosa 151). On the maternal side, Mário de Andrade’s family
had a more noble ancestry. According to Francisco de Assis Bar-
bosa, Mário’s mother, Dona Maria Luísa de Morais, with whom the
author had a strong connection throughout his life, came from an
aristocratic background. She was born in Porto Feliz, which, ac-
cording to Barbosa, was the cradle of the Bandeirantes and the
Monções [Monsoons].4 Her father was a respected lawyer, professor
of Law, and a politician (152). It was Dona Maria Luísa who, in
1921, bought three houses in the neighborhood of Barra Funda, in
São Paulo. One of the houses was given to Mário’s brother, Carlos
de Morais Andrade, another was rented out, and the third, the
now-famous house at 106 Lopes Chaves, is where Mário, his moth-
er, and his sister lived. He left the maternal house only for a brief
period between 1938 and 1941, when he lived and worked in Rio
de Janeiro. Andrade had a strong connection with his mother and
with his mother’s side of the family. Mário’s relationship with his fa-
ther was much more complicated and marked by conflict.5
Mário de Andrade studied at the Colégio do Carmo. He started
to study accounting at the Escola Álvares Penteado (Barbosa 153),
but never finished the degree. He focused instead on his musical
studies, starting as a music teacher at the Conservatório Dramático
e Musical de São Paulo, where he worked through most of the
1920s. He started publishing poems and essays in the local newspa-
pers around 1917. His involvement with intellectuals and artists
who would be part of the modernist movement also began around
the same time. He met Oswald de Andrade, Anita Malfatti, Menotti
Del Picchia, and others in 1917 (Brito 62-74).
4
The Monções [Monsoons] were river-borne expeditions that started after the
bandeiras. These expeditions started settlements in Cuiabá, in the state of Mato
Grosso. For more on the Monsoons, see Holanda, “The Monsoons.”
5
In Francisco Barbosa’s interview with Carlos de Morais Andrade, Mário’s
brother, their father is described as a serious and detached man. He rarely opened
up with his oldest sons (Mário and Carlos), but he was more affectionate with his
younger children (151). In a letter to Carlos Drummond de Andrade, Mário con-
fesses that his relationship with his father was difficult. Though he loved his father,
he did not miss his presence at home. See Carlos e Mário 286.
Andrade had a close relationship with Paulo Prado. Throughout

the 1920s they maintained contact almost on a weekly basis. An-
drade frequently mentions the meetings he had with Prado and the
Sunday luncheons at Prado’s mansion.6 The two men had political
and ideological affinities. Both were zealous paulistas who defended
the traditions of São Paulo and the politico-economic leadership of
the state in the nation. Prado and Andrade shared a passion for the
colonial past of São Paulo and Minas Gerais. Their pride in the Ban-
deirante epic saga is expressed in Prado’s essays in Paulística and in
several of Andrade’s poems. The Bandeirante motif appears in sever-
al poems in Paulicéia desvairada and in “Noturno de Belo Hori-
zonte,” in which the legacy of the ancestral paulista type also serves
as the foundation for a discourse on national identity. Antônio Pra-
do and Paulo Prado founded the Democratic Party, and Mário de
Andrade became one of the affiliates. In 1929 Prado and Andrade
founded the Revista Nova with Alcântara Machado, which was, ac-
cording to Carlos Berriel, an openly separatist periodical (Berriel
221). In 1932 both supported the Revolução Constitucionalista, in
which the paulistas rebelled against Getúlio Vargas’ Aliança Liberal.
At the time Mário wrote to Manuel Bandeira explaining that he was
not a separatist leader, as Paulo Prado had supposedly announced in
Rio, but he had reasons to express his separatism:
O meu separatismo é a coisa mais alagada e mais angustiosa que

existe. E se tem verdades intelectuais, vive ao léu das irrupções
sentimentais, nem era possível na vida paulista que estamos vi-
vendo, nós paulistas, ser de outra forma... Você não pode imagi-
nar o que está se passando aqui... tenho a impressão de que todos
os brasileiros são ladrões (M. Moraes 561).
My separatism is the most anguished and submerged thing that

exists. And if it has intellectual truths, it lives to the rhythm of
the sentimental irruptions, and it would not be possible in the
paulista life that we are living, for it to be otherwise... You cannot
imagine what is happening here... I have the impression that all
Brazilians are thieves.
6
In his letters to Manuel Bandeira, Andrade mentions these meetings and lun-
cheons several times: “Almocei com o Paulo e fui tomar chá com o Gui Baby” (169)
[I had lunch with Paulo and went to have tea with Gui Baby]; “Paulo Prado chega
domingo e não poderei recomeçar nossos almoços de domingo” (256) [Paulo Prado
arrives on Sunday and I will not be able to restart our Sunday luncheons].
It was also in the early 1930s, under the leadership of the De-
mocratic Party, that cultural projects such as the Universidade de
São Paulo, the Faculdade de Filosofia, and the Departamento de Cul-
tura da Prefeitura de São Paulo were developed and implemented.
Paulo Prado and Mário de Andrade had articulated the project for
the departamento upon the request of the mayor, Fábio Prado.7
Within the Democratic Party a left-leaning group formed by Mário
de Andrade, Paulo Duarte, Sérgio Milliet, and Rubens Borba de
Morais drafted the details of the project for this department. The
group was also supported by Armando Salles de Oliveira, Júlio
Mesquita Filho, Fernando Azevedo, Henrique da Rocha Lima, and
others who were also involved with the Universidade de São Paulo
project (Duarte 1). Antonio Candido defines this group as a radical
cultural and political avant-garde within a conservative political or-
ganism: “...curioso este caso de uma vanguarda político-cultural à
sombra de uma situação oligárquica, que a aceitou e apoiou” (Can-
dido, “Prefácio” xv). [[This is a] curious case of a politico-cultural
vanguard in the shadows of an oligarchic situation, which accepted
and supported it.]. The Vargas administration paid close attention
to this group, which was considered the strongest opposition force
coming from São Paulo (O’Neil 58). As I pointed out in chapter
one, the cultural projects implemented by Mesquita Filho, Fernan-
do Azevedo, and Armando de Sales Oliveira served as models for
the cultural projects at the federal level.
Paulo Duarte convinced Mário to take on the directorship of
the Departamento de Cultura, where they both worked from 1934
to 1937 (Duarte 6). According to Duarte, these were the best years
in Andrade’s professional life. The main goal of this cultural project
was to democratize access to culture. The department was com-
posed of five subdivisions: Cultural expansion, Libraries, Educa-
tion and Recreation, Historical and Social Documentation, and
Tourism (62).8 According to Duarte, the library project was so suc-
cessful that it got the attention of the Rockefeller Foundation,
which offered financial support for the creation of a Library Sci-
ence degree in the Departamento (75).
7
This information is provided by M. Moraes, editor of the correspondence be-
tween Andrade and Bandeira. See Correspondência 619, note 23.
8
For more details on the variety of activities promoted by the Departamento,
see Duarte 62-69.
Everything went well with this project until November of 1937,

when Mário de Andrade was expelled from the Departamento de
Cultura (Duarte 2). Duarte connects this incident with the incep-
tion of Getúlio Vargas’ Estado Novo dictatorship (6). There was a
conflict between Andrade and the new mayor, Prestes Maia. The
department was taken over amid allegations of corruption against
the administration, which, according to Duarte, were unfounded.
After being so precipitously removed from this position, Mário lost
a great deal of enthusiasm. The cultural project of this department
meant a great deal to Mário and Duarte, who were involved in the
very foundation of this cultural institution. According to several ac-
counts the loss of this position was something from which Andrade
would never quite recover. Many argue that this may have con-
tributed to his early death in 1945,9 at the age of fifty-two (E. Moraes
29; Wisnik “Cultura pela culatra” 122). Paulo Duarte convincingly
argues that the letters he received from Andrade before the 1937
event were full of enthusiasm and happiness, while in the ones re-
ceived between 1938 and 1945 the predominant mood is dark, with
constant allusions to financial difficulties, health problems, and gen-
eral disillusionment.10 According to Duarte, these letters contain des-
perate cries for help (13), but they also chronicle the author’s demise:
“Mário suicidou aos poucos, matou-se de dor, revolta e angústia. E
esse suicídio... apressou-se no Rio, num ambiente de abandono” (3-
4). [Mário committed suicide little by little; [he] killed himself from
the pain, revolt and anguish. And this [process of] suicide... was ac-
celerated in Rio, in an environment of abandonment.].
After the traumatic event of his dismissal from the Departamento
de Cultura, Mário de Andrade was hired, in 1938, by Gustavo Ca-
panema to be Director of the Instituto de Artes of the Universidade
do Distrito Federal. As a professor in that same university, Andrade
was in charge of teaching courses on philosophy and art history. He
9
The official cause of death was a heart attack (Barbosa 151). What Paulo
Duarte affirms, in his emotional style, is that the disappointment that Mário de An-
drade suffered when he was removed from the Departamento de Cultura caused him
to lose hope and this state of despondency only increased over the years. The letters
show clearly that Andrade was in fact physically sick and depressed more often than
not starting in 1938 until the very last letter he sent to Duarte a few days before dy-
ing on February 25th, 1945.
10
This dark mood in Mário de Andrade’s letters also appears in Frota, Carlos &
Mário and Duarte, Mário de Andrade por ele mesmo 154-284.
was also appointed chair of Instituto Nacional do Livro, where he

was in charge of an Encyclopedia Project from 1938 to 1939, among
other projects. While Andrade was still director of the Departamen-
to de Cultura, Capanema commissioned him to write the draft of the
project that created the Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico
Nacional (SPHAN) in 1937 (Williams, Culture Wars 98). Later, the
director of this institution, Rodrigo Mello Franco, assigned Mário de
Andrade as the regional representative of its São Paulo branch. An-
drade was never satisfied working in any of these positions. As
Duarte points out, Andrade’s stay in Rio de Janeiro only aggravated
the situation. Even after the author returned to São Paulo in 1941,
he continued to face the same problems. Mário de Andrade’s letters
to Minister Capanema from 1938 to 1945 reveal a sick, mentally ex-
hausted, financially bankrupt, and despondent man.11
Although Andrade had close relationships with some powerful
figures in political circles, such as Paulo Prado in the 1920s, and
Fábio Prado and Gustavo Capanema in the 1930s and 1940s, for a
long time many critics argued that the author stayed away from poli-
tics throughout most of his life, especially in the early years of Mod-
ernism (Barbosa 147; Lopez, Ramais 197). This alleged political ab-
senteeism, to which the author himself admitted (Movimento
modernista 74), does not seem to be an accurate characterization. As
Joan Dassin argues, there is a political aspect to many of the projects
with which the author was involved. There has always been a conflu-
ence between the aesthetic and the political (Dassin 19). Dassin of-
fers a critique of Mário’s political views and the elitist profile of the
Democratic Party, which, in the author’s view, remained indifferent
to the middle classes and the proletariat (161). Despite the fact that
Mário never launched a career in politics like his brother, his in-
volvement with the Democratic Party and his position as director of
the Departamento constitute a measure of political involvement.
The cultural projects with which Mário was involved both at the
state and federal institutions were all related to the democratizing
project of modernity, and politics (cultural politics) was at the heart
of it. Mário had difficulties reconciling his ideals for a utopian pro-
11
The letters sent to Capanema between 1938 and 1944 confirm Duarte’s argu-
ment that Mário de Andrade was always unhappy in this phase of his life. For a
transcript of these letters, see Schwartzman, Bomeny, and Costa, Tempos de Capane-
ma 366-81).
ject of national identity with the reality of the politics involved in

the implementation of such projects, and he can hardly be blamed
for it. The repression imposed by the Estado Novo and the margin-
alized position Mário would occupy in Capanema’s cultural pro-
jects left him in a state of distress and exhaustion. However, the
problems that affected Mário’s ability to carry out such projects did
not always come from the limits imposed by politics, but came
about from his own conflicted relationship with modernity. Even
though the cultural projects he envisioned were progressive, innov-
ative, and aimed at democratizing access to culture, Andrade’s own
concepts of national culture and his resistance to certain aspects of
modernity were quite limiting.
A PLATFORM FOR A PROJECT OF NATIONAL IDENTITY: SIGNS OF

“MODERNOPHOBIA”
Mário de Andrade became interested in folklore and popular

traditions as early as 1924. His interest in popular culture never
waned, and throughout the 1920s he traveled several times to the
north and northeast of the country. These expeditions are regis-
tered in O turista aprendiz. Andrade’s professional career as a cul-
tural manager and promoter started with his tenure at the Departa-
mento de Cultura and continued at the São Paulo branch of the
Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Nacional, where Andrade
remained formally involved in the research, dissemination, and
preservation of (popular) culture throughout most of the 1930s un-
til his death in 1945. As a self-taught folklorist, Mário de Andrade
devoted most of the mature years of his career to studying popular
culture in search of the essence of the Brazilian character. Many of
the writings that appeared in the 1930s and 40s are related in some
way to his ethnographical surveys.12
Andrade never published a detailed and well-developed docu-
ment as far as the practical implementation of a cultural project of
national identity was concerned. Most of his programmatic texts
12
Among these are Música de feitiçaria (Obras completas 1963); Modinhas impe-
riais (Obras completas (1964); O samba rural paulista (Obras completas (1965);
Namoros com a medicina (Obras completas (1956); Danças dramáticas do Brasil
(Obras completas (1959), and others.
are theoretical.13 However, the project for SPHAN was a detailed

project. In this document Andrade recommended the cataloguing
and preservation of popular culture, but the final version of the
document did not include this particular aspect (Williams, Culture
Wars 79-82). Popular culture represents the core of the author’s
ideas about national identity, and this is clearly expressed in his En-
saio sobre a música brasileira (1928). In this essay Andrade expres-
ses his belief in the pragmatic, redemptive, and transformative value
of folklore, especially in the area of music. His definition of popular
music was strictly related to the music of the countryside. To him,
popular culture, especially popular music, represented a reservoir
of authentic, unadulterated material that should be not only pre-
served but assimilated and transformed into artifacts of high art. He
understood folklore as essentially rural. José Miguel Wisnik has
stated on several occasions that this purism in Andrade’s formula-
tion of popular culture represents the core of his thinking as a mu-
sician and folklorist.14 Wisnik affirms that popular culture in An-
drade’s view was synonymous with
... cultura popular rural e ostensivamente não-urbana como o

Outro salvador da cultura brasileira... cultura fora-do-mercado...
produzida pelo artista anônimo e coletivo em oposição à “in-
fluência deletéria do urbanismo,” em que se misturam as influên-
cias estrangeiras e os chamativos comerciais e industriais. (“Cul-
tura pela culatra” 109, 110-11)
... Rural popular culture and ostensibly non-urban as the Other

savior of Brazilian culture... out-of-the-market culture... pro-
duced by the anonymous and collective artist in opposition to the
‘deleterious influence of urbanism,’ where foreign influences
were mixed with commercial and industrial appeal].
Wisnik emphasizes the basic contradiction of an intellectual as-

sociated with the modernization of cultural expression who adopts
13
Among the programmatic texts that Mário published are the various mani-
festos: “Prefácio interessantíssimo;” A escrava que não é Isaura, and “Elegia de abril.”
However, these texts deal mostly with the theoretical, aesthetic, and political aspects
that concern the modern artist. Mário’s project for the national patrimony is a docu-
ment that concerns the implementation of a program, but it was not published.
14
See Wisnik, “Getúlio da Paixão Cearense” 133; Wisnik, O coro dos contrários
107; and “Cultura pela culatra” 109.
a clearly premodern approach in his definition of what constituted

pure, authentic, and unadulterated Brazilian culture. Mário’s posi-
tion on folklore was grounded in the belief that there could be such
a thing as an uncontaminated form of cultural expression. His ap-
proach is somewhat nostalgic and protective, as it favors the notion
of cultures developing in relative isolation. This view also limits the
possibilities for the transmission of the popular cultural patrimony
to archaic forms, as it privileges oral and unmediated transmission.
It is implied in this notion that most of the effects of modernization
in the urban context were detrimental to the authenticity of folk-
lore. However, Mário did incorporate technology in his project of
the preservation of popular music, as he recorded musical perfor-
mances from rural musicians and groups, which have been released
in the CD set: Missão de pesquisas folclóricas (2006). The project in-
volved recording, preserving, and cataloguing this material. What is
most relevant in Mário’s view as a folklorist is that he defended a
romantic view of rural folklore as a domain that held a monopoly
over the authenticity of national popular culture. It is a position
that conceives of popular culture as a dying culture, since it is al-
ways under threat of disappearance or of contamination through
unauthentic urban hybridizations.
However, Mário was aware of the fact that popular culture was
a hybrid. In his conceptualization, there was only one legitimate
form of hybridization, which was the mix of Portuguese and
African cultures. The Amerindian element also contributed to this
music, but it was completely assimilated and not as prominent in
what Mário defines as national: “O Brasil é uma nação com normas
sociais, elementos raciais e limites geográficos. O ameríndio não
participa dessas coisas... continua ameríndio e não brasileiro” (13).
[Brazil is a nation with social norms, racial elements and geographic
limits. The Amerindian does not participate in these things...
[he/she] continues to be Amerindian and not Brazilian.]. Accord-
ing to this definition, none of the ethnic groups, in isolation, could
produce authentic Brazilian music. Therefore, the only mix that
Andrade considered authentic was the fusion of the three original
ethnicities, but the Amerindian, in his assessment, had less of an
impact on the formation of national music and culture.
In the introduction to the Ensaio sobre a música brasileira (1928),
Mário formulates a radical doctrine that sets clear limits as to what
constitutes national art and what does not: “Toda arte socialmente
primitiva que nem a nossa, é arte social, tribal, religiosa, comemorati-

va. É arte de circunstância. É interessada. Toda arte exclusivamente
artística e desinteressada não tem cabimento numa fase primitiva,
fase de construção... os efeitos do individualismo artístico são destru-
tivos” (15). [Every art [that is] socially primitive like ours is social art,
tribal, religious, commemorative [art]. It is art of circumstance. It is
interested. Every art that is exclusively artistic and disinterested has
no place in a primitive phase of construction... the effects of artistic
individualism are destructive.]. It is clear from this passage that
Mário had radicalized his definition of popular art and of what con-
stituted national expression. In his conceptualization the anonymous
and collective expression of the popular represents the only authentic
expression of the national. It is a definition that challenges the notion
of authorship and especially the bourgeois notion of art for art’s sake.
In this version of Mário’s primitive nationalism art has to have a de-
fined purpose and has to serve a collective demand.
In the late 1920s Mário had already decided that art, especially
national art, should be collective and interested, and it should serve
utilitarian purposes. His dogmatic and prescriptive formulations of-
ten acquire an aggressive and discriminatory tone: “Todo artista
brasileiro que no momento fizer arte brasileira é um ser eficiente com
valor humano. O que fizer arte internacional ou estrangeira, se não
for gênio, é um inútil, um nulo” (16). [Every Brazilian artist who at
the moment makes Brazilian art is an efficient being with human val-
ue. The artist who makes international or foreign art, if [this artist] is
not a genius, is useless, [he or she] is nothing.]. Here the imperative
of being national defines the value of an artist’s human existence.
Mário’s emphasis on rural music and its importance for the con-
solidation of a national remained at the core of his thinking for
many years. In 1938 the author wrote Capanema a brief introduc-
tion to the topic in a letter sent from the Instituto Nacional do
Livro. The author believed in the possibility of transforming folk-
loric material into erudite forms for a project of national culture
that included symphonic orchestras, opera companies, instrumental
groups, and more. This document is one of the few in which there
is an explicit designation for a pragmatic incorporation of folklore
into a political and cultural project of national integration. Once
again, Mário conceives the social function of music as something
practical, with a clear purpose and utility that is related to its pre-
modern functions. Music is not for the passive and individual en-
joyment, but to serve a collective need:
A música é universalmente conhecida como a coletivizadora-mor

entre as artes... A maior prova deste poder coletivizador e cívico
da música está em que, dentre todas as artes, ela é a única que se
imiscui no trabalho. Em todas as partes do mundo canta-se du-
rante o trabalho, canções de remar, de colheita, de fiar, etc. (Tem-
pos de Capanema 91).
Music is universally known as a major integrator among the

arts... The main proof of this integrative and civic power of music
is in the fact that, amongst all arts, music is the only one that
mixes itself with work. Everywhere in the world people sing dur-
ing work, rowing songs, harvesting songs, hemming songs, etc.
In this short passage Mário offers a practical incorporation of

music into a cultural project of national integration in which music
could instigate civic sentiment and patriotism among the populace.
His view of the value and purpose of popular art, especially music,
had not changed much in comparison with his writing in the Ensaio
sobre a música. This definition of the purpose of music implies not
only that music has to remain true to its ancestral social functions but
also that the society in which music performs such practical purposes
has to be, in a way, a primitive society. In other words, Mário’s very
definition of music contains a projection of how he envisioned soci-
ety, or at least the social group that would be affected by this music.
Both the transmission and the reception of music, in this conceptual-
ization, demand a return to music’s purest, ancestral, tribal functions.
The short message to Capanema does not offer enough detail for
a thorough evaluation of such a project, but it is implied in this com-
munication that the Minister was inquiring about effective ways to
use and manipulate cultural material for objective and practical po-
litical purposes. Capanema did, in fact, use music for these purpos-
es, but it was Heitor Villa-Lobos who took charge of the Minister’s
project, which had been implemented in the early 1930s. The pro-
ject of the “Canto Orfeônico” [Orphic Chant] was instituted as a
pedagogical means of encouraging discipline, civic, and artistic edu-
cation in schools (Wisnik, “Getúlio” 179; Tempos de Capanema 90).
As early as 1924 Mário de Andrade started incorporating the
themes of rural folklore and the vernacular language of the Brazil-
ian countryside into his work. The author’s position in relation to
national culture became increasingly focused on rural popular cul-
ture, while in aesthetic terms his literary production started to in-
corporate the language of primitivism. However, even in the ur-

ban and cosmopolitan poems of Paulicéia, it is possible to detect
expressions of this discontentment with urban culture. Several po-
ems contain references to both the physical and cultural land-
scapes of the city that reveal a profound conflict, a search for
something more permanent and for deeper cultural roots that
could offset the damaging effects of modernity. In Paulicéia, this
identity anxiety is expressed through an invocation of ancestral
sources as models for a desired cultural stability. The longstanding
cultural elements activated in several poems of Paulicéia were not
those found in urban or rural folklore but in the discourse of his-
tory, in traditional cultural practices, and in myth.
PAULICÉIA DESVAIRADA: HARLEQUIN OUSTS THE UNWANTED
Mário de Andrade’s early modernist poetry, that is, his pro-

duction in the 1920s, is considered to be among the most radical,
experimental, and iconoclastic of Brazilian Modernism. Conven-
tionally, the first eight years of the modernist movement (from
1922 to 1930) have been defined as a period in which the mod-
ernists fought hard against the backward mentality they believed
predominated in the cultural milieu in Brazil. Mário is consid-
ered one of the main masterminds of the modernist movement.
One of the most radical premises of the modernist literary pro-
ject insisted that literature, especially poetry, should be con-
cerned with the present. Modernists proposed to utilize themes
of everyday life and down-to-earth language in order to shorten
the distance between life and art. Andrade, a leading voice for
the entire modernist project, wanted to counteract what he felt
was the verbose literature of the Belle Époque.
Mário debuted as a poet, using the alias Mário Sobral, with the
volume Há uma gota de sangue em cada poema (1917), a collection of
anti-war poems written in Parnassian/Symbolist style. Mário’s intro-
duction to avant-garde aesthetics was, at first, through the ideas of
Filippo Marinetti and Futurism. By the time Paulicéia was published,
Mário had already discarded Futurism, and in the “Prefácio interes-
santíssimo” [The Extremely Interesting Preface] he denies being in-
fluenced by those ideas. In his early modernist poetry Andrade em-
braces concepts divulged by the French Purist movement through
the magazine L’Esprit Nouveau,15 founded in 1920 by Amédée Ozen-

fant and Charles Edouard Jeanneret. Jeanneret is better known as Le
Corbusier, the architect who would have an enormous impact on the
Vargas-era projects, including the iconic building of the Ministry of
Education and Health in Rio de Janeiro (Williams, Culture Wars
268). The L’Esprit Nouveau magazine served as the vehicle for the
ideas of the Purist movement in France. This movement expressed
the post-war sentiment in Europe through a call for a return to order
in a world devastated by the chaos of war.16
Ozenfant, Le Corbusier, Paul Dermée, and others were influenced
by the ideas of the poet Guillaume Apollinaire in the post World War
I context: “France is repulsed by disorder. People welcome princi-
ples, and are horrified by chaos... The new spirit refers above all to
the great classical qualities–order and duty–in which the French
spirit is proudly manifest. The new spirit is that of the very time in
which we live.” (Qtd. in Eliel 23) Paul Dermée later redefined the
concept of the new spirit to include “purity” and “unity.” Purism’s
paradoxical aesthetic program incorporated industrial and mechan-
ical techniques, but also revered aspects of classical artistic and ar-
chitectural forms as examples of clarity and purity. In 1918, Ozenfant
and Jeanneret published the manifesto “After Cubism,” which at-
tacked the excesses of Cubism: “PURISM expresses not variations,
but what is invariable. The work should not be accidental, excep-
tional, impressionistic, inorganic, contestatory, picturesque, but on
the contrary, general, static, expressive of what is constant.”17 The
manifesto clearly privileged immutable aspects of artistic expression,
and Mário had already been influenced by these ideas and concepts
since the early 1920s when he wrote Paulicéia and also his poetics,
A escrava que não é Isaura, which synthesizes these concepts. But the
book was only published in 1925, when the author felt these ideas no
longer influenced his work (“Posfácio,” Obra imatura 297). Mário’s
15
Maria Helena Grembecki demonstrates how some of the key ideas expressed
in Mário de Andrade’s poetics (both “Prefácio interessantíssimo” and A escrava que
não é Isaura) are sometimes direct translations of the texts that appeared in L’Esprit
Nouveau. For the direct references that Mário de Andrade used in his poetics, see
Grembecki 23-28.
16
For more details on Mário’s early manifestos, see Schwarz, “O psicologismo
na poética de Mário de Andrade” and Gouveia, “The Early Manifestos of Mário de
Andrade.”
17
Ozenfant & Jeanneret, “After Cubism.” Rpt. in Eliel 165. Emphasis in the
original.
aesthetic program of this early phase have little to do with the prim-
itivism of Oswald’s “Pau-Brasil” and “Cannibalist” manifestos, as I
will analyze in the next chapter.
The ideas of the L’Esprit Nouveau and the Purist movement in-
fluence the poetry Paulicéia desvairada [Hallucinated City], pub-
lished in 1922.18 The book marked Mário’s transition from Symbol-
ism/Parnassianism to Modernism. In fact, the book is considered
by many to be the ushering in of Modernism and modern aesthetics
in Brazilian poetry. In his introduction to the bilingual edition of
Paulicéia, Jack Tomlins, the translator, explains: “Thus it was that
the first authentically revolutionary volume of Modernist verse was
born... It is not foolhardy, then, to declare that this small volume of
poetry was effectively instrumental in changing the direction of
Brazilian letters for all time” (xvi).
The early modernist poetry of Mário de Andrade incorporates
language, forms, and themes that were considered too low to be part
of the Parnassian lexicon. However, that does not mean that mod-
ernist poetry was more accessible or less erudite. Paulicéia desvairada
includes several odes to the cosmopolitan life of São Paulo. Telê An-
cona Lopez has studied the theme of the Harlequin, which is recur-
rent in this collection of poems. In “Arlequin e modernidade,”
Lopez sees the Harlequin as a “traje teórico” [theoretical garment]
that envelops this book (17). In Lopez’s assessment, the Harlequin is
a basic aesthetic component of the avant-garde that seeks to contest
the established social relations and express the truth (18). The Har-
lequin, a direct reference to the Commedia dell ‘Arte, is a clown; the
figure is a buffoon who expresses multiple aspects and contradic-
tions, which, in Lopez’s view, denotes the presence of several aes-
thetic elements of Cubism and Dadaism and superimposes many
layers of signification (19). Lopez argues that the aesthetics synthe-
sized in the “traje de losangos” [garment of multicolored lozenges],
composed of multicolored geometrical shapes, represents the variety
and simultaneity of metropolitan life in the twentieth century (21).
Charles Perrone also interprets the subjective view of the city as be-
ing that of the Harlequin’s perspective (21).
A variety of experiences and moods is expressed from a lyrical
and subjective point of view. The mood of the poems in Paulicéia
18
In the case of Paulicéia desvairada, I will use the English translation. See
M. Andrade, Hallucinated City.
ranges from extremes of euphoria in “Inspiração” to sadness in

“Tristura.” The poem “Domingo” expresses disappointment with
certain aspects of the urban environment. Each stanza ends with
the same verse “Futilidade, civilização” (Poesias completas 40) [Fu-
tility, civilization (Hallucinated City 43)]. The aggressiveness and
hostility toward the bourgeoisie expressed in “Ode ao burguês” are
echoed in several other poems that represent the nouveau riche.
Paulicéia contains polyphony of styles and voices, with the incorpo-
ration of quotidian themes, free forms, blank verse, and elements of
popular culture.
Some of the poems in Paulicéia, even with the deployment of
irony and parody, convey an affirmative message of nationalistic
pride. “As infibraturas do Ipiranga,” for instance, has elements of na-
tionalism. This is not a poem but a theatrical and musical perfor-
mance piece and also functions as a second manifesto in the book
(Unruh 42-50).19 The pride of being from São Paulo is expressed in
many poems, especially in “Paisagem n. 4.” In this collection of pre-
dominantly urban-themed poems, which are also framed by the motif
of “desvairismo”20 [hallucination or madness], there is a wide range
of subject matter. Not all of these poems are strictly related to this
alienating (hallucinatory) experience in the context of urban culture.
Also, not all of the poems celebrate the cultural melting pot that São
Paulo had become. There are several poems in which the urban
physical and cultural landscapes provoke conflict. In these moments
the poetic voice rejects the excesses of the Urbis. Elizabeth Lowe has
pointed out that the discourse in Paulicéia “embraced and rejected
[the city] with equal passion” (94). Similar observations about the
ambivalence of the poetic voice with regard to the city’s physical and
cultural landscapes appear in analyses by Iumma Simon (40), Gonza-
19
The first text that opens Paulicéia and functions as a manifesto is the “Prefá-
cio interessantíssimo” [The Extremely Interesting Preface].
20
In his “Prefácio” Andrade declared that “desvairismo,” as a movement, was
created. The adjective “desvairado” in Portuguese qualifies an individual as some-
one who lost his senses, who is hallucinating. Jack Tomlins translated Paulicéia
desvairada as Hallucinated City, a tittle that captured this aspect but is less specific
about the reference to São Paulo than the Portuguese title. The references to hallu-
cinating experiences in many poems convey a sense of alienation. The noun in the
title, Paulicéia, which is a nickname for São Paulo, the capital, also suggests a view
of the city as a melting pot, a multi-cultural place undergoing rapid transformation.
The poem “Religião,” however, seems to be establishing some limits to the notion
of multiculturalism.
lez and Treece (71), David Foster (17), and Charles Perrone (21).
Perrone emphasizes the sense of “surplus” expressed in many ways
in this poetry, including the excessive use of apostrophes and excla-
mation points (23). Several of these poems propose a return to or-
der in the midst of chaos. Paulicéia offers a complex interplay be-
tween the subjective (emotional and affective) engagement of the
poetic voice with the cityscape (Foster 18) and the representation of
the physical, material realities of the city (Foster 15; Perrone 20).
The irony that may be present in each poem is charged with a
unique set of affective functions reflecting the Harlequin’s multidi-
mensional and unstable perspective. These functions can simultane-
ously articulate double-edged, polarizing attitudes. To use Linda
Hutcheon’s categories, the same poem could express a self-depre-
cating and also defensive attitude, while another poem could incor-
porate irony in a corrective but also destructive manner (Hutcheon,
Irony’s Edge 47). The range of attitudes toward the city and the
process of modernization sometimes reaches extremes of hostility.
There are moments in which the critique of modernity’s excesses
suggests the reinforcement of traditional cultural forms and prac-
tices. Such attitudes are not devoid of self-criticism, but they can al-
so be marked by a confrontation with the unknown in favor of the
known: the traditional. One poem that openly reacts against the
multi-cultural vertigo provoked by the metropolis is “Religião,” a
poem that is not just about religion:
Deus! creio em Ti! Creio na tua Bíblia!

Não que a explicasse eu mesmo,
porque a recebi das mãos dos que viveram as iluminações
Catolicismo! sem pinturas de Calixto!... As humildades!...
No poço das minhas erronias
vi que reluzia a Lua dos teus perdoares!...
Rio-me dos Luteros parasitais
………………………………..
e aos mações, que são pecados vivos
e que nem sabem ser Pecado!
……………………………….. (Poesias completas 50)
God! I believe in Thee! I believe in Thy Bible!

Not that I could explain it myself,
because I received it from the hands of those who lived
Illuminations
Catholicism! Without paintings by Calixto! . . . Humilities! . . .

In the pity of my transgressions
I saw shining the Moon of Thy Forgivenesses! . . .
I laugh at parasitical Luthers
………………………………..
and freemasons, who are living sins
and know not even how to be Sin!
……………………………….. (Hallucinated City 73)
This fragment of the poem “Religião” reads, at first sight, as an

unambiguous statement of faith in Christianity’s God and in the
Bible. One could attribute irony to the affirmation of Catholicism
as the only legitimate religion. I see irony coded in the verse that in-
directly states that Catholics may be the only ones who “know how
to be Sin.” The irony I see here is benign, as it denotes an intimacy
with the dominant codes of Catholicism. Forgiveness is at the heart
of the Catholic doctrine, and in the poem the word “forgiveness”
appears in capital letters. Catholics may abuse this premise and sin
because they can be certain of God’s forgiveness. This could be one
of the critiques implied in the verse. However, the irony I see here
does not fight against, but in fact reinforces, the dominant authority
of the Church’s discourse.
This verse openly confronts Freemasons (perhaps for not being
so forgiving?) with a sarcastic comment on the hypocrisy of the
Catholics. In spite of this covert self-criticism, the poetic voice here
takes a clearly hostile position in relation to Luther (and to Luther-
ans) and to Freemasons. The use of the noun “Luthers” in the plur-
al, instead of Lutherans, implies that this is a reference to Protes-
tantism as a whole. Since Martin Luther was responsible for the
Reformation, the most significant disruption in the history of Catholi-
cism, the reference to Luthers might be a reference to other Christian
doctrines derived from the Reformation. The fact that the poetic
voice characterizes “Luthers” as parasitical implies that these Christ-
ian doctrines would take away life from the Catholic church. The po-
em also addresses Freemasonry as a religion, which is an inaccurate
definition since the institutions of Freemasons are better defined as
secret or esoteric societies. Perhaps because Freemasonry’s origins
and purpose are shrouded in mystery, there has been strong opposi-
tion to this secret society emerging from religious institutions. The
Catholic Church has historically been the Christian denomination
with the longest history of objections to Freemasonry: “The Church,

at one time, imposed the death penalty for any citizen of the Papal
States who became a member” (Wallace-Murphy 7). Therefore, the
confrontation with the Freemasons and possibly with Protestants
derives from the fact that these practices represent the unknown: a
threat to the continuity of traditional religious practices.
Even though this collection of poems has a predominantly cos-
mopolitan and multicultural outlook, when the subject is religion,
the Harlequin does not welcome divergent beliefs. The poem af-
firms Catholicism regardless of the flaws and hypocrisy of
Catholics. Of all the poems that compose Paulicéia, “Religião” is
perhaps the poem that expresses the clearest reaction against some
aspects of multiculturalism. The irony that I see in the verse that
claims that Luthers and Fremasons “know not even how to be sin”
(Hallucinated City 73), which signals a measure of critical distanc-
ing and a cynical remark about Catholicism, is that the predomi-
nant ethos of the poetic discourse is affirmative of Catholicism and
disparaging of Lutherans and Freemasons.
There is nothing unusual about statements of faith in literature
or any other form. Embracing Catholicism in somewhat general
terms,21 as in the case of this poem, is an act that connects the poet-
ic discourse with the mainstream. These assertions of faith are not
intrinsically hostile against all other faiths. However, in this case,
given the fact that Brazil was at the time (and still is) a predomi-
nantly Catholic nation, there is at least an element of exaggerated
defensiveness in this poetic discourse. The poetic discourse ex-
presses the need to deflect criticism by eliminating the possibility of
being perceived as a non-Catholic. The other religions are repre-
sented in the poem as “parasitical” institutions that could pose a
threat to Catholicism, which also denotes a protective attitude to-
ward one aspect of cultural traditions in Brazil.
However, in the context of the modernization of literary dis-
course, which Paulicéia is said to endorse,22 the most important
21
The poem does not specify which kind of Catholicism is being designated as
the legitimate. But the negative reference to the paintings of Benedito Calixto seems
to express a disagreement with certain renditions of Catholicism. Calixto was an
impressionist painter. It may be that the poetic voice proposes a return to simpler,
less aestheticized forms of Catholicism.
22
Suarez and Tomlins (55) argue that Paulicéia represents the urbanization of the
poetic discourse. This argument is also accepted and reproduced by David Foster (15).
question should be: What is the novelty in expressing faith in the

Catholic religion? Affirming Catholicism in a Catholic nation, even
if in an ambiguous way, is not something controversial or modern in
the tradition of Brazilian literature. The earliest texts in the Brazil-
ian literary canon are the writings of religious figures such as Father
José de Anchieta and Father Antônio Vieira. Therefore, if there is
anything radically innovative in the message of this poem, it is the
hostility toward other religions. As part of this reaction, the dis-
course proposes a reconnection with deeper streams of cultural
practices in Brazil. The discourse reacts against the multiplicity of
religions, which are represented as threats in the discourse of “Re-
ligião.” The proliferation of religions, especially in urban settings,
was accelerated by the city’s rapid growth and the inception of
modernity.23 This process was perhaps intensified by the process of
modernization and the expansion of São Paulo. Therefore, this rup-
ture with other religions should be understood as a rupture with
some of the undesirable elements brought in by urban modernity.
Protestantism and Freemasonry appear as exogenous invasions that
disturb the continuity of religious traditions.
The poem “Religião” may be an expression of faith, but it
should not be read as representative of what Mário de Andrade en-
visioned as constitutive of a project of national identity. The dis-
course in the poem seems to contradict some of Andrade’s formula-
tions expressed later in his life. Mário did not prescribe Catholicism,
and was well aware of the plurality of Catholic manifestations in
Brazil. He criticized Alceu Amoroso Lima’s heavy-handed definition
of Catholicism in its strictly Roman Apostolic version as the legiti-
mate form (“Tristão de Ataíde” 7-34). If Catholicism was to be part
of a project of national identity, Mário de Andrade would certainly
favor the inclusion of popular expressions of Catholicism, which are
important components of folk culture.
However, the poem seems to refer to urban forms of Catholi-
cism, more traditional and consistent with the author’s upbringing.
In Mário de Andrade: Ramais e caminho, one of Mário de Andrade’s
23
The proliferation of religions in the urban setting is the topic, for instance, of
Paulo Barreto’s As religiões no Rio (1904). In this book, composed of a series of
journalistic chronicles about new and traditional non-Catholic religions, Barreto
celebrates the diversity of creeds in the city and pays special attention to the Afro-
Brazilian rites.
best known critical biographies,24 Lopez interprets the poem “Re-

ligião” from a biographical standpoint; as an expression of the au-
thor’s beliefs and as a result of his Catholic background:
Em sua intolerância para com os protestantes e mações, aplica a

ética da educação religiosa que recebeu, sem perceber a con-
tradição em que incorre... não põe em prática a caridade cristã,
quando repudia os mações... e nega aos protestantes uma oportu-
nidade de retorno. (42).
In his intolerance toward Protestants and Freemasons, [he] applies

the ethics of the religious education he received, without noticing
the contradiction in which he falls... [he] does not put in practice
the [values] of Christian charity, when [he] repudiates the Freema-
sons... and [he] denies the Protestants an opportunity to answer.
Lopez criticizes the author’s attitude because the intolerance ex-

pressed in the poem constitutes, in her view, an infringement on the
very Catholic values Andrade supported. The author is correct in
pointing out this contradiction, which opposes the values the poetic
voice attempts to justify. However, Lopez interprets it as a contradic-
tion that the author did not notice. Also, Lopez does not recognize
any irony in the poem. Though I recognize the irony, I also interpret
the message of intolerance, to use Lopez’s term, not as a slip, but as
one of the focal points of the poem. Whether or not this represented
the author’s personal view is irrelevant. What matters is that there is
enough expressed in the poem that delegitimizes Protestants and
Freemasons and reinforces Catholicism as the only legitimate reli-
gion. The critical aspect of the poem consists of a demarcation of
what is acceptable and what is not with regard to religious practices.
It is less an affirmation of faith than it is a confrontation with unfa-
miliar religions and a return to a familiar territory.
This does not mean, however, that the author asserts his identity
as a Catholic intellectual with this poem. If the poem really ex-
pressed the author’s beliefs, then this was the expression of the think-
ing of a young poet. Mário de Andrade never assumed the dogmatic
24
I use the term “critical biography” because the work of Telê Porto Ancona
Lopez is a biography with criticism of Mário de Andrade’s literature. Lopez’s ap-
proach to literary criticism is biographical, so these two aspects are indistinguish-
able in her book.
position of a militant Catholic intellectual, and he seems to have

changed his position as far as his belief in Catholicism. In a letter to
Alceu Amoroso Lima,25 written in 1931, Mário distances himself
from accepting an engagement with Catholicism that seems to have
been proposed by Lima, the leading Catholic intellectual at the time:
...você está perfeitamente em condições e direito de perguntar:

Mas afinal das contas o que você é realmente: católico ou não?
Aqui eu escapulo das suas garras, que seriam... ferozes se eu ten-
desse pro Catolicismo. Porem eu não tendo para ele, venho dele.
Não quero dizer com isso que saí dele. Mas também não tenho o
direito público e pragmático de dizer que estou nele... no mo-
mento não posso ter nenhuma eficiência católica, não posso to-
mar uma atitude pragmática em favor do Catolicismo. (Fernan-
des 21-22) (Emphasis in the original)
... you are perfectly fine and you have the right to ask: But after
all what are you: Catholic or not? Here is when I slip away from
your claws, which would be... ferocious if I leaned toward
Catholicism. But I do not lean toward it, I come from it. I do not
mean to say with this that I left it. But I also see that I do not
have the public and pragmatic right to say that I am in it... at the
moment I cannot have any Catholic efficacy, I cannot have a
pragmatic attitude in favor of Catholicism.
Mário’s explanation is dubious. He neither assumes nor negates

his Catholic faith. Almost ten years after the publication of “Re-
ligião,” the author comes across as much less convinced of his faith
and of his own ability to commit to a public campaign in favor of
Catholicism. Andrade tried to convince Lima that there was a differ-
ence between being a Catholic by heritage and being a militant
25
The separation between Church and State was established in 1891. Between
1890 and 1930 the Catholic Church fought to regain its status as the official reli-
gion. The development of several lay Catholic institutions in diverse areas such as
health, education, leisure, and culture sought “to compensate for the loss of politi-
cal support from the political elite of late nineteenth century” (Miceli, A elite ecle-
siástica brasileira 28). Catholic intellectuals who were associated with lay Catholic
institutions campaigned for the Church by, among other things, attacking Liberalist
ideology. Alceu Amoroso Lima was the leader of several active Catholic lay organi-
zations: Centro Dom Vital, Ação Católica, Liga Eleitoral Católica, and the magazine
A Ordem. For more on the institutional development of the Church, see Miceli,
A elite eclesiástica.
Catholic intellectual. His personal faith in Catholicism seems to have

been something intimate.26 However, the poem “Religião” repre-
sents a public statement of faith framed as pointed social commen-
tary. Whether or not the author intended it to be a label, the poem
works as a legitimizing discourse in favor of Catholicism, so much so
that Lima, many years later, still depicted Andrade as a Catholic
writer: “Mário de Andrade... era um professor de música, um
homem preocupado com a erudição, um poeta, mas um católico fer-
voroso, que fazia questão de sair de opa vermelha nas procissões e
de rosário na mão” (Memórias improvisadas 76). [Mário de Andrade
. . . was a music professor, a man concerned with erudition, a poet,
but a fervent Catholic, who made a point in going out dressed in tra-
ditional garb for the processions and with a rosary in his hand.]. Li-
ma’s depiction of Mário de Andrade as a zealous Catholic is an ap-
propriation and an imposition to fulfill his own agenda as a Catholic
leader. However, whether or not this image is exaggerated, it was
prompted by Andrade’s favorable remarks about Catholicism.
There are many other moments in which the poetic voice in
Paulicéia summons the discourse of tradition in order to critique the
present. One of the most contentious and complex issues in Paulicéia
is the incorporation (or not) of the immigrant element. As far as the
representation of the immigrant type in this book goes, there is al-
ways a measure of conflict. Mário Carelli explores this theme in sev-
eral of the modernists’ texts from the 1920s. Carelli considers Mário
de Andrade’s predominant attitude toward Italian immigrants in
Paulicéia as being negative. The author describes it as an uneasiness
of the poet vis-à-vis the transformation of the paulista society by the
massive entrance of immigrants (136). Adrien Roig argues that immi-
grant values are often associated with materialism, individualism, and
greed. These values are often represented in contrast to the core val-
ues of the primordial paulista, the ancestral Bandeirantes (Roig 25-
26). In some cases, the immigrant is seen as a modern incarnation
of the Bandeirante, especially when it comes to greed. However, the
26
In a recent testimonial, Antonio Candido, who attended Mário de Andrade’s
funeral, says that on the day of the funeral “Os Irmãos do Carmo, que ele fora e
talvez nunca tenha deixado formalmente de ser, vieram rezar alinhados dos lados
do caixão” (Lopez, Eu sou trezentos 47) [The [members] of the Brotherhood of
Carmo, to which he had belonged and perhaps had never formally left, came to
pray aligned by the sides of the coffin.]. This confirms that the Mário’s Catholicism
was something that he kept mostly for himself.
Bandeirante is always associated with courage and a disposition for

adventure, while the immigrant often appears as pusillanimous and
possessive about material goods.
At least four distinct attitudes toward immigrants are detectable
in Paulicéia. There is acceptance and even solidarity in “Tu,” and a
move toward incorporation though with a hint of scorn and ridicule
in “O domador.” There is sarcasm and indifference in “Paisagem
n. 2,” and a confrontation followed by contempt in “Tietê.” The
poem that expresses the most positive attitude toward the immi-
grant is “Tu.” Here, the reference to female, working-class individ-
uals seems to represent a gesture of affirmation of the multicultural
landscape of the city: “costureirinha de São Paulo,/italo-luso-fran-
co-brasileiro-saxônica” (Poesias completas 47). [“little seamstress of
São Paulo,/Italo-Luso-Franco-Brazilian-Saxon”] (Hallucinated City
66). The poem also denotes a slight projection of the poetic voice’s
sexual desires: “gosto de teus ardores crepusculares” (Poesias com-
pletas 47). [“I like your crepuscular ardors” (Hallucinated City 63)].
Although the little seamstress of multiple nationalities is viewed
with benevolence, she is also turned into a generic sexual object.
The same stanza ends with another reference to the Bandeirantes:
“crepusculares e por isso ainda mais ardentes/ bandeirantemente!”
(Poesias completas 47) [“crepuscular and therefore more ardent/ pi-
oneer-wise!” (Hallucinated City 63)]. The seamstress’ desires or her
passions are compared to the enthusiasm of the Bandeirantes, a ref-
erence that always denotes courage and zeal. Thus, the most posi-
tive aspect that the poetic voice sees in the female workers is some-
thing that can be compared to what are perceived to be the core
values of the Bandeirantes. This discourse is perhaps less an affir-
mation of multiculturalism than it is a positive assessment of the
working-class immigrant’s assimilation of the imaginary native and
ancestral values of courage and determination that belonged to the
paulistas. It is an affirmation of what is shared among immigrants
and natives. Still, among all of the poems in Paulicéia, this is the one
that expresses the most affirmative message with regard to immi-
grants and developing multiculturalism in São Paulo. Other en-
counters with immigrants in Paulicéia are often ambiguous and
tainted with scorn, confrontation, and ridicule.
In “O domador,” the son of an immigrant appears as the succes-
sor of the Bandeirantes, which at first sight denotes what Lopez sees
as “simpatia e admiração” [sympathy and admiration] (Mário de An-
drade: Ramais 217). Iumma Simmon also reads this fragment as an

expression of acceptance: “The immigrant is the symbol of industri-
alization denied by the coffee aristocracy. To accept him... is to ac-
cept and assume the technological society and progress of São
Paulo” (43). Simmon is correct to point out that the aristocracy de-
nied the legitimacy of the immigrant as the usher of industrialization.
However, the poem cannot be considered simply as an acceptance of
this assimilated immigrant. There is sarcasm and irony in this poem
that both Lopez and Simmon missed in this apparently celebratory
representation of the mix between Brazilian and Italian blood:
………………………………………………
Guardate! Aos aplausos do esfuziante clown,
Heróico sucessor da raça heril dos bandeirantes,
Passa gualhardo um filho de imigrante,
Loiramente domando um automóvel! (Poesias completas
51)
Guardate! At the applause of the whizzing clown,

Heroic heir of that lordly race of pioneers,
An immigrant’s son elegantly passes by,
Boldly taming a motor car! (Hallucinated City 47)
As Carelli points out, the use of an Italian word Guardate! [Look!]

anticipates the immigrant group that will be the target of the criti-
cism (138). The clown, which is probably the Harlequin, applauds
this bourgeois son of an Italian immigrant and announces him as
the modern inheritor of the Bandeirantes. However, the irony I see
is that the action or spectacle that is being depicted does not repre-
sent a heroic or bold act. In fact, this is a pathetic display of power
and a feeble manifestation of courage. This son of an immigrant
may have achieved status in society, but his values are shallow. The
blond and elegant driver is a boaster. To tame an automobile is the
easiest and most superficial means of asserting power. The poem
connects this Italo-Brazilian individual with the materialism and su-
perficiality of the bourgeois culture. Therefore, the discourse here
affirms the assimilation of immigrants, especially, as Carelli re-
marks, because the character depicted in the poem is already an ita-
lo-paulista (139)–but it also makes him the target of a joke. The ma-
terialistic young man is the tamer of a car and he is a tamed and
watered-down version of the Bandeirante. Therefore, the poem ex-
presses both a certain reluctant admiration for the material progress
of the immigrant classes, which is reflected in the modern and luxu-

rious lifestyle of their offspring, but it also depicts this assimilated
immigrant as a superficial and materialistic nouveau riche. The
progress made by the immigrant is measured only in material terms.
In contrast, most references to the Bandeirantes emphasize heroic
attitudes, detachment from material possessions, and determination
to fight for a cause.
It is in “Tietê” that the immigrant becomes a clear target of
disparagement. Similar to the critique and the scorn of “O do-
mador,” in “Tietê” the criticism in relation to the attitudes of the
immigrant appears in the form of a comparison: an opposition to
the heroic demeanor of the Bandeirante. The poem starts with a
nostalgic evocation of the past through the metaphor of the river.
The Tietê is the river that allowed the Bandeirantes to explore the
countryside, especially in the Monsoons, the expeditions to Mato
Grosso. Sérgio Buarque de Holanda argues that what unites both
types of expeditions, the Bandeiras and the Monsoons, “is:... per-
haps the serene courage, an apparent indifference to threats, to
dangers, and often to the greatest catastrophes” (“Monsoons”
155). Andrade’s poem emphasizes the attitude of courage and sto-
icism of the ancestors with regard to catastrophic events. The river
is a metaphor frequently used in association with an aspect of con-
tinuity with the past. In the poem this continuity is disrupted by
the attitude of the illegitimate successor of the mythical paulista
ancestors: “Era uma vez um rio.../Porém os Borbas-Gatos dos ul-
tra-nacionais esperia-mente!” (Poesias completas 36) [Once upon a
time there was a river/But the Borbas-Gatos of the ultra-nationals
country-clubbily! (Hallucinated City 32)]. The second verse starts
with a contrasting conjunction indicating that something contrary
to the old practices has now replaced that tradition. The ultra-na-
tional Borbas-Gatos is a reference to both the Bandeirantes27 and
to a class of people who are associated with country clubs; Esperia
was one of the bourgeois clubs at the time (Carelli 137). But the
elliptical nature of the first stanza does not explain the contrast
between these two groups, and it does not reveal what traditions
were associated with the river. It is in the subsequent stanza that
this glorious past comes to life:
27
Mário de Andrade is most likely referring to João de Borba Gato, who was
one of the Bandeirantes connected to the expeditions to Mato Grosso. There were
several other men whose surname was Borba Gato. See Franco 181-82.
Havia nas manhãs cheias de Sol do entusiasmo

As monções da ambição
E as giganteas vitórias!
As embarcações singravam rumo do abysmal Descaminho . . .
(Poesias completas 36)
There were on the mornings with the Sun of Enthusiasm

the monsoons of ambition
And the gigantic victories!
The boats sailed on to the unfathomable Corruption . . .
(Hallucinated City 33)
The images and the rhythmic cadences that set the background
scene are reminiscent of an epic and romantic narrative of adven-
ture. They evoke clarity, pride, and a sense of collective purpose.
These images also convey optimism and enthusiasm despite the fact
that the scene also anticipates a catastrophe. The boats sail on fear-
lessly toward danger, and suddenly these comforting images are dis-
turbed by violent actions that introduce a distinct and fragmented
rhythm. This sequence of isolated words composes another epic
scene marked by a major struggle: “Arroubos... Lutas... Cantigas...
Setas... Povoar!” (Poesias completas 36). [Ravishments... Struggles...
Arrows... Songs... Populate! (Hallucinated City 33)]. Right after this
battle scene, which summarizes the pioneers’ struggles in their colo-
nizing enterprise, there is a dialogue between someone who propos-
es an adventure in Mato Grosso and an Italian immigrant, a swim-
mer and member of the country club:
– Nadador! vamos partir pela via dum Mato-Grosso?

– Io! Mai!... (Mais dez braçadas. Quina Migone. Hat Stores.
Meia de seda)
Vado a pranzare con la Ruth (Poesias completas 36)
“Swimmer! Shall we set off toward a Mato-Grosso?

Io! Mai!... (Ten more strokes. Quina Migone. Hat Stores. Silk
stocking,)
Vado a pranzare con la Ruth (Hallucinated City 33)
The English translation misses an important part of the dialogue. The

Italian Immigrant then gives an excuse for not participating in the ad-
venture: “I’m going to have lunch with Ruth.” The poem tells a story
in an elliptical and fragmented language that includes a dialogue be-
tween a native and an immigrant. The bravery of the ancestors

evoked in the background scene of the first two stanzas is contrast-
ed with the attitude of cowardice, materialism, and worship of the
easy pleasures and consumerism of the bourgeois (i. e., hat stores,
silk stockings). Once again, it is the Italian arriviste who is the tar-
get of the criticism. As Carelli points out, many other groups, in-
cluding the traditional aristocracy, could have been placed in the
position of representative of consumerism (139). But it is the Italian
immigrant who appears again as a coward and superficial successor
of the brave and adventurous mythic ancestors of São Paulo.
Thus far, the poems that confront the immigrant in a scornful
manner target the bourgeois or perhaps the petit bourgeois. The
amiable reference to the little seamstress is the only reference to the
working-class immigrant of various origins. It seems plausible that
the logic behind these depictions is that the target of ridicule is only
the bourgeois immigrant, which also is coherent with the message in
the poem “Ode ao burguês”: Eu insulto o burguês.../O homem que
sendo francês, brasileiro, italiano,/é sempre um cauteloso pouco-a-
pouco!” (Poesias completas 37) [“I insult the bourgeois.../ The man
who being French, Brazilian, Italian,/is always a cautious little take-
your-time!” (Hallucinated City 37)]. The bourgeois represents the
cautious, conservative, and exploitative element in the culture, and
this is the cause of the Harlequin’s irritation. In the best cases, this
aspect represents the target of the jokes and provocations through-
out many of the poems in the book. Therefore, this could be inter-
preted as a class issue instead of an ethnic or nationalistic issue. Af-
ter all, Brazilians are also part of the bourgeoisie that is attacked.
However, even if that is the case, these depictions are still largely
stereotypical, as they blame the bourgeois immigrant for the intro-
duction, dissemination, and reproduction of bourgeois values in São
Paulo–as if these values were exogenous, as if materialism was not
already part of the paulista culture. In other words, by blaming the
immigrant for the degeneration of the culture, the Harlequin treats
something that is a historical development as an ethnic problem.
Furthermore, by contrasting the attitudes of the bourgeois immi-
grant to that of the Bandeirante, the poetic discourse in Paulicéia
reaffirms the notion that there is, or there was, something intrinsic in
the culture (an atavism) that could resist and combat the erosion of
the cultural values brought in by foreigners.
Carelli argues that the poetic discourse in Paulicéia is benevolent
and sensitive to hardships of the working classes and harsh toward
the upper-class immigrant (139). This seems plausible, and it is true

for most of the poems in which these issues surface. However, this
argument does not reflect the scope of attitudes toward the work-
ing class in all of the poems in Paulicéia. The subjectivity of the
Harlequin cannot be reduced to such sentimental and class-con-
scious logic. In “Paisagem n 4,” the suffering of the working class is
recognized, but the attitude of the Harlequin is derisive, if not cru-
el: “Lá para as bandas do Ipiranga as oficinas tossem.../Os invernos
de Paulicéia são como enterros de virgem/ Italianinha, torna al tuo
paese!” (Poesias completas 46). [“Out there in the Ipiranga district
the workshops cough.../The winters of São Paulo are like the buri-
als of virgins/Little Italian girl, torna al tuo paese!”] (Hallucinated
City 59).
The suffering caused by the winter and the harsh conditions in
the workshops are recognized as deadly. The voice recommends
that the working-class Italian girl return to her country. This is a fair
warning, not a xenophobic remark. Thus, the message in the poem
seems like another expression of empathy toward the working-class
immigrant. However, the last stanza breaks with this sentimentalism
as the Harlequin relishes the spectacle of death and tragedy that
unveils before his eyes:
São Paulo é um palco de bailados russos.

Sarabandam a tísica, a ambição, as invejas, os crimes
e também as apoteoses da ilusão...
Mas o Nijinsky sou eu!
E vem a Morte, minha Karsavina!
Quá, quá, quá! Vamos dançar o fox-trot da desesperança
a rir, a rir dos nossos desiguais! (Poesias completas 46)
São Paulo is a stage for Russian ballets.

Here tuberculosis, ambition, envies, crimes, dance the saraband,
and also the apotheoses of illusion . . .
But I am Nijinsky!
And death, my Karsavina, comes!
Ha! Ha! Ha! Let’s dance the foxtrot of desperation,
Laughing, laughing at our unequals! (Hallucinated City 61)
In this sarcastic conclusion to the poem the Harlequin’s voice ap-

pears to have incorporated not simply a subjective alter ego, Nijin-
sky, but also a metaphysical presence, a sort of angel of death, who
celebrates disgrace with his partner (death itself), named after

Tamara Karsavina, the famous Russian ballerina.28 The Harlequin
and Karsavina dance not a ballet, but a modern dance (the foxtrot).
They are indifferent to the despair and death of those who were so-
cially inferior to them. Thus, the Harlequin incarnates many per-
sonas, and it would be a mistake to attribute to this poetic voice an
overarching coherence. The discourse of the Harlequin cannot be
said to be simply compassionate toward the working class and
spiteful toward the bourgeoisie. There is a wider range of attitudes
toward both classes. Indifference and scorn for the working class
are two of them. In relation to the bourgeoisie, the tone is usually
aggressive, but there are also instances in which recognition is part-
ly granted.
It is possible, however, to identify recurrent patterns that are re-
worked in different configurations throughout the book. These pat-
terns may not compose a coherent sub-discourse, but they point at
some unresolved issues that surface in various poems. The recurrent
evocation of the Bandeirante myth is done in many distinct ways. The
ethos is predominantly affirmative toward the ancestral heroes, but
not entirely devoid of irony and distancing. In most of the poems in
which this myth is evoked there is a corrective ethos behind it. The
heroic element of the myth is consistently employed in opposition to
signs of cultural degeneration and weakening. Likewise, the dismissal
of other religions in “Religião” constitutes another moment in Pau-
licéia in which anxiety and longing for reconnection with traditional
cultural practices become evident. These are instances in which the
critique of modernity is done through an activation of the discourse
of tradition. This operation is not entirely devoid of ironic distancing
and self-criticism, but it is always marked by nostalgia. Therefore, the
poetic discourse of Paulicéia, in spite of its radical formal break with
traditional poetic forms and the dominant literary discourse of its
time, does not always incorporate or express modernity in an affirma-
tive and forward-looking manner. The city is often depicted as a de-
structive environment against which the poetic voice reacts in many
different ways. The tendency to critique the urban environment
28
Tamara Karsavina (1885-1978) was one of the “three mythic dancers, like
Vaslav Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova [who] were trained and coached in the perfor-
mance of ballets choreographed by the great ballet master Marius Petipa” (Eliot
60). With Nijinsky, Karsavina performed female roles on several ballet pieces in-
cluding Petrouchka, Gisele, and Firebird. For more on Karsavina see Eliot 60-90.
through a restoration of the past also guides another landmark in An-

drade’s poetic output in the 1920s. The “Noturno de Belo Hori-
zonte” is one of the first nationalistic poems in Andrade’s early 1920s
production that includes elements of folklore and rural popular cul-
ture as antidotes for the destructive effects of urban modernization.
“NOTURNO DE BELO HORIZONTE:” WALKING THE BANDEIRANTE

TRAIL29
In Paulicéia, the embrace of modernity is accompanied by an

equally strong expression of discontentment with certain aspects of
the city’s rapidly changing cultural and physical cityscapes. The
ephemeral aspects of the spectacle of modernization tend to be dis-
missed and contrasted with cultural values that symbolize a stable,
historically grounded cultural core. Two years later, Mário published
“Noturno de Belo Horizonte,” a gargantuan and epic tour de force
through the landscape of Minas Gerais. The reference to Belo Hori-
zonte, capital of Minas Gerais, in the title suggests that this would
be a poem about another rapidly growing urban center, but that is
only partially true. This majestic poem summons a vast and disso-
nant range of cultures in order to account for the diversity of Brazil-
ian rural cultures. However, there is a clear drive to integrate these
cultures into one overarching narrative of national identity, which is
done through the emphasis on the shared aspects of these dissonant
cultural manifestations. There are abrupt shifts in location, speaker,
and time; however, the poem focuses mostly on the monumental
artistic and architectural patrimony found in the countryside. It re-
produces folk poetry, legends, and music, celebrating a variety of
manifestations of rural culture. In spite of its fragmented form this
composition is clearly driven by a totalizing impulse to embrace rur-
al popular culture and represent it as national culture. The sheer size
of the poem (over four hundred verses) already indicates that this
was meant to be an all-encompassing piece. Once again, the urban
location described in the title does not reveal the actual scope of the
themes, locations, and cultural aspects represented in the poem.
In fact, Belo Horizonte appears only in the first stanzas as anoth-
er futile attempt to emulate European models of civilization. The po-
29
A version of my interpretation of “Noturno de Belo Horizonte” appeared in
Gouveia, “Private Patronage in Early Modernism.”
em dialogues with Paulicéia, as it utilizes some of the vocabulary

that marked the poetic discourse of Andrade’s first poetry book:
“Afinal Belo Horizonte é uma tolice como as outras/São Paulo não
é a única cidade arlequinal” (Poesias completas 131). [After all, Belo
Horizonte is a foolish [thing] like the others/São Paulo is not the
only harlequinal city.].30 Thus, the true value of Minas Gerais’ cul-
ture is to be found in the remote colonial past, in the small colonial
villages of the countryside.
It was on the occasion of Blaise Cendrars’ first visit to Brazil, and
especially after the tour of the countryside, that the modernist intel-
lectuals of São Paulo started to incorporate the aesthetics of primi-
tivism and to privilege the landscape of the countryside, along with
themes of popular culture. Sponsored by Paulo Prado and Olívia
Guedes Penteado, Brazilian modernists and the Swiss avant-garde
poet Blaise Cendrars took a trip to the historical villages of Minas
Gerais. The group that participated in the tour of Minas Gerais,
which also included the carnival in Rio, was composed, according to
Aracy Amaral, of Mário de Andrade, Oswald de Andrade and his
son, Nonê (Oswald de Andrade Filho), Olívia Guedes Penteado,
René Thiollier, and Godofredo Silva Telles (Amaral 46).
Both Mário and Oswald de Andrade created cultural artifacts
that helped forge an identity centered on genealogy, heritage, native
traditions, and linkages to the Bandeirante forefathers. But this ele-
mental underpinning of their project of national identity was
adorned (and sometimes concealed) by the most up-to-date aesthetic
techniques, maintaining a distinctive cutting-edge language that is
congruent with the modernists’ image of refinement and erudition.
The historical villages of Minas Gerais constituted an unexplored
universe for the modernists of São Paulo. Brazilian colonial history
and art had, obviously, a distinct meaning for Blaise Cendrars, who
became fascinated by the work of Aleijadinho (Amaral 69). The re-
vival of colonial Brazil served the purpose of linking the mythical
Bandeirante explorer to the entrepreneurial spirit of the São Paulo
coffee aristocracy. Descendants of the earliest coffee planters, such
as the Prados, were clinging to the immemorial past and traditions
and taking possession of colonial history. Prado’s Paulística, which
is a celebration of the historical past of Minas Gerais, was also written
and published around the same time (1925). Other important cultural
30
The translation of the verses in “Noturno de Belo Horizonte” is mine.
artifacts were inspired by this momentous tour of Minas Gerais, in-

cluding Mário’s “Noturno,”and Oswald’s Pau-Brasil.
This aspect should not be considered an anomaly of Brazilian
Modernism, since even in the context of the European avant-gardes
this tendency had already been detected by Renato Poggioli, who
points out that the European avant-garde “seeks to justify itself by
the authority or arbitration of history... even as it deigns to look for
its own patent of nobility in the chronicles of the past and to trace
for itself a family tree of more or less authentic ancestors, more dis-
tant precursors” (70). As Benedict Anderson points out in Imagined
Communities, one of the most common features of nationalist dis-
courses worldwide can be detected in their “subjective antiquity” in
spite of the “objective modernity” of nations (5). Vicky Unruh has
analyzed this “anxiety of origins” in the works of Vicente Huido-
bro, Jorge Luis Borges, Alejo Carpentier, and many other Latin
American writers, including Mário de Andrade in Macunaíma. In
each of these cases the turn to primitivism and surrealism takes on a
specific meaning, but it also presents a similar ethos of a return to
the origins (139-42). Unruh recognizes the differences and specifici-
ties of each of the myths of original purity, but the author sees these
manifestations as part of the avant-gardes’ drive toward a “rehu-
manization of art” (21-29).
As mentioned in chapter three, the phenomenon of the avant-
garde return to traditions is widespread, but each case brings back a
unique set of legends and myths according to the geographical and
political specificity of each movement. Before Mário explored the
Amazonian myths, he experimented with the myth of bandeirismo,
which is a theme that remained obscure if compared to the amount
of attention given to the pan-national primitivism of Macunaíma
(1928). The selection of this particular myth is a regional phenome-
non, since it refers mostly to the historical past of the paulistas and it
fits perfectly with the modern role of the state as a pioneer and agent
of historical transformation in the past and in the present. This foun-
dational myth also concerns Minas Gerais, Mato Grosso, Goiás,
and other regions of the country, but in the narratives of the Ban-
deirantes’ deeds these other places appear as locations being founded
by the pioneer paulistas. Therefore, Minas Gerais, as it appears in the
poem, is a product of São Paulo. Paulo Prado, in “Caminhos de Mi-
nas,” one of the essays that appears in Paulística, not only praises a
specific verse of the poem (“São Paulo fruta paulista, fruta que apo-
dreceu” Poesias completas 127), but uses it to support his argument

that the best of Minas Gerais’ culture is that which was inherited
from the Bandeirantes:
... Os Paulistas se apropriavam do thesouro fabuloso que já se

entrevia nas lavras recem-achadas. Dessa época poude dizer com
razão Mário de Andrade, no seu “Nocturno de Bello Horizonte”
(que por sinal é uma das obras primas da poesia brasileira): “Mi-
nas Geraes, fructa paulista.” (Paulística 201)
... The paulistas were appropriating this fabulous treasure that

could already be seen in the recently found [gold] mines. Of this
era Mário de Andrade could reasonably say, in his “Nocturno de
Bello Horizonte” (which by the way is one of the masterpieces of
Brazilian poetry): “Minas Geraes, fructa paulista.”
In the poem, the verse Prado cites appears connected to the fol-
lowing verse: “Fruta que apodreceu” [Fruit that has rotted]. This
couplet constitutes the chorus of the poem, as these are the only vers-
es that are repeated several times throughout the “Noturno.” These
verses summarize the poem’s main message. Just as the ancestral
paulistas took possession of the fabulous treasures of Minas’ land,
modern paulistas like Prado and the Andrades claimed their symbolic
role of pioneers by appropriating the cultural legacy of colonial Mi-
nas Gerais. Mário was very proud of this poem. This poem was al-
most a manifesto, as it announced a new direction in his poetry and a
new attitude with regard to a nationalistic poetic discourse. The po-
em also motivated or facilitated the connections that Mário would
maintain with intellectuals from Minas Gerais. In the first letters ex-
changed between Carlos Drummond de Andrade and Mário de An-
drade, the poem appears at the center of their initial dialogue. Drum-
mond was very curious about the poem and asked Mário to send him
a copy. Mário sent him one, and in the letter he wrote to Drummond
he rejects Tristão de Athayde’s (a.k.a. Alceu Amoros Lima) interpre-
tation of the poem. Athayde’s review appeared in O jornal, in 1925:31
31
Tristão de Athayde wrote: “A poesia do senhor MA, a meu ver, ainda está
longe do que virá a ser... quando se cansar de seu desvairismo, de sua demagogia re-
gionalista, do prosaísmo forçado” [The poetry of Mr. MA, in my view, is still far
from what it will become... when he gets tired of his desvairismo, of his regional
demagogy, of the forced prosaic style.”] (qtd. in Carlos & Mário 157).
Tristão... não compreendeu absolutamente o “Noturno.” Fala ain-

da em desvairismo!... Tristão inda falou em “demagogia regionalis-
ta”... Regionalista não sou positivamente. Se é porque tenho o re-
frão “Minas Gerais fruta paulista” ele não entendeu absolutamente
o que eu quis falar. Minas como grande parte do Brasil interior é fru-
ta que os bandeirantes produziram pro Brasil litorâneo. Isso quis fa-
lar. Sem reinvindicação nenhuma é lógico. Tanto que disse que es-
sa fruta apodreceu. Depois frutificou... frutificou por si, paulista
não tem mais nada com isso. (150–51) (Emphasis added)
Tristão... absolutely did not understand the “Noturno.” He still

speaks of desvairismo!... Tristão also talked about “regional dem-
agogy.”... I am positively not a regionalist. If it is because I have
the chorus “Minas Gerais, fruta paulista” he absolutely did not
understand what I wanted to say. Minas, just like a great part of
Brazil of the interior, is a fruit that the bandeirantes produced for
the Brazil of the coast. This I wanted to say. Without [making]
any claims of course. So much so that I said that this fruit rotted.
And then it blossomed. It blossomed by itself, paulistas do not
have anything to do with it anymore.
Despite the fact that Mário denies any intention of writing re-
gionalist poetry, the aspect that called Tristão de Athayde’s atten-
tion in the poem was exactly the fact that the poem’s celebration of
Minas Gerais and São Paulo favors regional cultures in contrast to
the notion of national integration. Furthermore, the epic saga of the
Bandeirantes, which the poem reconstructs, clearly elevates both
ancestral and modern day paulistas to the position of the greatest
pioneers in Brazilian history. This narrative implies that the paulista
ancestors founded the Brazilian countryside and, by analogy, con-
temporary paulistas who identified themselves as the rural aristocra-
cy continued with this pioneering tradition by spurring modernity
on through the coffee business and modernization. We must re-
member that Paulo Prado in his “Martyrdom of Coffee” portrayed
newcomers as opportunists who benefitted from the easy credit of
the encilhamento. In his view, these were illegitimate agents of
modernity. Therefore, the myth of bandeirismo is evidently based
on an ethnocentric assumption and is a divisive discourse. Prado
used it to support his separatist arguments in 1934, when the sec-
ond edition of Paulística was published.
Mário attempts the opposite in “Noturno,” because the poetic

discourse in this poem clearly emphasizes integration in its all-en-
compassing drive to celebrate the richness, diversity, and especially
the shared aspects of the traditional cultures of rural Brazil: “Eu
queria contar as histórias de Minas/Pros brasileiros do Brasil” (133)
[I wanted to tell the stories of Minas/To the Brazilians of Brazil.].
In the fragment of the letter quoted above, Mário seems to see the
foundational role of the Bandeirantes as something so natural that it
is not even a matter of discussion. The author does not see the eth-
nocentrism of his own assertion that the countryside is a fruit of the
Bandeirantes’ endeavors. Perhaps Mário does recognize that his
claim can be interpreted as divisive rhetoric, especially after Athay-
de’s criticism, but he sees the imprint of the São Paulo ancestors on
the culture of the countryside as a historical and ineluctable fact.
Even as he denies being a regionalist, Mário’s excuses reinforce
such regionalism and ethnocentrism. The author makes yet another
contentious claim when he emphasizes that the historical past of
Minas is something that the Bandeirantes produced for the Brazil-
ians of the coast. He implies that those on the coast (the intellectu-
als in Rio de Janeiro being the target here) ignore the existence and
the value of this remarkable culture of the countryside. The poem
performs, in his view, a pedagogical and corrective function by
broadcasting the glory of the cultural legacy allegedly left by the
Bandeirantes in Minas. In doing so, Mário is not just celebrating the
roots of Brazilian culture but also confronting the Europeanized
portion of the Brazilian intellectual milieu.
The rhetoric employed in the poem, however, has almost none
of the confrontational character of the poems in Paulicéia. Instead,
the poetic language of the “Noturno” establishes an amiable dia-
logue with the reader. The predominant ethos of the poetic dis-
course throughout the poem is affirmative, warm, and cordial.
None of the sarcasm and derision of Paulicéia is employed here. In
spite of this affability, the writing requires the reader to have a solid
background knowledge of the historical villages of Minas Gerais in
order to appreciate the poem. Also, the fragmented language, shifts
of register, location, and time require competence and familiarity
with avant-garde techniques. In terms of form and concept the po-
em is quite innovative for its time. It is a kaleidoscope of images
and sensations that brings together multiple places and temporali-
ties. Andrade structured the poem through a random accumulation
of bits of history, myths, and folklore in one uninterrupted flow.
The word noturno in Brazilian Portuguese has multiple mean-

ings. It is a reference to night trains and also to a genre of symphon-
ic poetry that revived the spirit of the eighteenth-century serenades.
Andrade’s poem contains elements of both: It could be read as a re-
production of a journey by train through Minas Gerais, while the
predominant tone of the message functions as a serenade inside a
long and fragmented symphony. If this is a train, it is a magic train
that travels through space and time through the cities of Minas
Gerais at dazzling speed.
Instead of the overwhelming sensations captured in the poems
of Paulicéia, the “Noturno” conveys recurrent soothing messages
collaged among several songs and poems taken from local oral cul-
ture and put together into one long piece. Everything evokes peace,
calm, and social harmony. The poetic voice affirms throughout the
poem that there is still a place that has kept the national memory in-
tact since colonial times. Thus, Minas Gerais in the present is a na-
tional sanctuary where all is calm and orderly:
Maravilha de milhares de brilhos vidrilhos,

Calma no noturno de Belo Horizonte...
..................................
A polícia entre rosas...
Onde não é preciso, como sempre...
Há uma ausência de crimes (Poesias completas 125)
Marvel of thousands of glassy slitherings

Calm in the Belo Horizonte night train...
..................................
The police among roses . . .
Where it is not needed, as always...
There is an absence of crime
The opening image of shimmering pieces of glass with a multi-

tude of colors evokes a kaleidoscopic view and establishes an oniric
atmosphere. This is a journey through a dreamlike landscape. The
poem is all about utopian scenes of the past and present that inspire
and incite the national spirit. In Andrade’s view, Minas Gerais is
such a calm location that the police have no place or function in
this environment. Unlike the city of São Paulo, which is depicted as
a “stage of crimes” in Paulicéia, and where in 1924 there was an en-
tire month of military conflict, the towns of Minas appear as sanctu-
aries of peace because they lack the anarchic component of the im-
migrant proletariat and the greediness of immigrant entrepreneurs.
In a place where there is no social conflict the police become part
of the background, standing among flowers and functioning as
mere ornamental figures. This opening stanza may signal the anxi-
ety experienced in São Paulo in the context of the growing social
conflicts of the 1920s. It should be pointed out that the year 1924
was one of the most tumultuous in the history of São Paulo. The
previously outlined episode of the siege and occupation of the city
by a faction of the army signaled the increasing pressures against
the oligarchic system. Yet, none of these historical conflicts are
brought up in the modernists’ texts of that period.
In “Noturno” the poetic voice longs for a peaceful nation where
all conflicts are settled. But in this place, Minas Gerais, and at that
time, the 1920s, the apparent lack of social conflict and the peace-
fulness that it inspires are not signs of an egalitarian society. Every-
thing is calm because the social hierarchies simply had not been
challenged to the point of causing social unrest. In a place where
the political and social hierarchies are not challenged, everything
appears natural. Instead of the urban landscape with multitudes of
people, nature occupies a prominent role in Andrade’s poetic repre-
sentation of Minas Gerais. In various passages in the poem there
are references to a power struggle between nature and civilization
(and modernization). Nature seems to defy modernity and impose
its own kind of civilization in Minas Gerais. The poetic voice wishes
that the conflict could be resolved with nature’s victory. In the po-
em nature’s power and resilience prevent Minas and its capital, Belo
Horizonte, from becoming faceless, dehumanized, and generic
landscapes of modernity. Belo Horizonte is only valued for its
peaceful character, not its architecture or the fact that it was an ex-
periment in urban planning:
Todas as idades humanas

Macaqueadas por arquiteturas históricas
Torres torreões torrinhas tolices
Brigam em nome da?
Os mineiros secundam em côro:
–Em nome da civilização!
Minas progride.
Também quer ter também capital moderníssima também...
(Poesias completas 126)
All of the human ages

Imitated by historical architectures
Towers large towers small towers foolishness
[They] Fight in the name of?
The mineiros answer in unison
“in the name of civilization!”
Minas progresses.
It also wants to have also a super modern capital also...
There is a condescending tone in this passage in relation to the

mineiros’ desire to have a modern capital like São Paulo or Rio de
Janeiro. The poetic voice conveys the idea that Minas’ aspiration of
becoming modern (at least in the capital city) is a sign of impru-
dence, as if modernity is not something that suits the place. In fact,
throughout the poem this notion of modernity as the agent of in-
evitable cultural transformation and loss is repeated, and in this re-
gard the poem replicates some of the moods and themes already
present in Paulicéia. The example of this destructive modernizing
impetus can be found the architecture of Belo Horizonte. The poet-
ic voice depicts it as a foolish endeavor because of its imitative char-
acter, because of the distasteful mixing of simultaneous temporali-
ties, because of its lack of historical depth, and because of its desire
to erase the past. The ultimate victory of nature against civilization
in this poem confirms the romantic and nostalgic ethos of the dis-
course. The concept of modernity in this poem is melancholic:
O mato invadiu o gradeado das ruas,

Bondes sopesados por troncos hercúleos,
Incêndio de Cafés,
Setas inflamadas,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...
O mato vitorioso acampou nas ladeiras.
..................................
E o noturno apagando na sombra o artifício e o defeito
Adormece em Belo Horizonte
Como um sonho mineiro. (126)
The woods invaded the railing of the streets,

Street cars saddled by the weight of Herculean trunks [of trees],
The Cafés are on fire32
32
In Portuguese the word café could refer to both cafés (coffee houses or small
restaurants) or to coffee. But since Andrade uses it in the plural (os cafés), and since
Arrows in flames,
..................................
The victorious woods camped on the hills.
..................................
And the night train in the shade erasing the stratagem and the defect
Sleeps in Belo Horizonte
Like a mineiro dream.
This entire scene is built in opposition to the modernizing impulses

of urban environments. The symbols of modernity in the stanza ap-
pear in a sort of apocalyptic scene, being damaged and burnt down.
Nature triumphs by taking up the hills, which is the space pre-
served from the developmental frenzy of modernity, and by destroy-
ing streetcars and cafés.
Throughout the poem there is a longing for stability and order in
a changing environment. The hierarchical society of Minas Gerais at
the time embodied the perfect model for these aspirations. The po-
em values the culture of the countryside where these hierarchies
were (and still are) visible: “In traditional society, the vast gulf be-
tween rich and poor served not to challenge but rather to enhance
and to legitimate the social order. Maintaining a genteel life-style was
not easy in the impoverished interior, where status was so clearly re-
vealed in dress, possessions, and access to education” (Wirth 67).
Therefore, in spite of the inevitable erosion of traditional values that
modernization brought along, the society of Minas Gerais kept the
old order intact in the remote areas of the interior. In the poem,
while the train, the utmost sign of modernity, sits still, it enigmatical-
ly resists the modernizing efforts of the time. This is an image that
works as a metaphor for modernization in Minas Gerais. Emphasis
is placed on the dormant, immanent, and perennial aspects of the
cultural and physical landscape. As mentioned before, the train in
this poem is not an ordinary modern machine but a magic object
that preserves the social order by linking the past to the present and
traveling through giant chunks of time and space.
this seems to be an urban scene in the poem, I translated it as cafés, commercial es-
tablishments. In this particular scene the cafés are being engulfed by flames. If the
poet meant coffee plants, the correct plural would be plantas de café, or cafezais,
(coffee plantations). However, Andrade might have used a bit of poetic license here
when referring to coffee plants. Either way, what is important in this particular frag-
ment of the poem is the fact that nature is taking over and destroying the urban scene.
Despite acknowledging the progress Minas Gerais has made (or

at least the effort put into it), the poem creates an image of the state
as a virtually untouched matrix of the Brazilian civilization. The city
of Belo Horizonte disappears from the poem to make way for tran-
scendental memories of the historical past: “Belo Horizonte desa-
pareceu/Transfigurada nas recordações” (127). [Belo Horizonte
disappeared/ Transfigured in the reminiscences.]. From this point
on the imagery shifts from urban to rural, and from present to past.
The historical villages take center stage. The past is both dead and
alive, as these villages remain unchanged. Preservation was accom-
plished not so much because of the political authorities’ care for the
historical patrimony but because of historical circumstances. The
gold rush of the 1700s lasted for about a century, and then all of the
gold-mining activities rapidly declined before the 1800s. By the
time Mário de Andrade visited Minas, the historical towns had
been practically abandoned for at least one hundred and twenty
years. Thus, in the case of the historical sites of Minas Gerais, aban-
donment actually helped preserve the physical and cultural land-
scape. For the modernists, these towns of Minas Gerais had
stopped in time, becoming living museums, preserving the “true”
Brazilian character. Furthermore, Minas could be linked to the past
of São Paulo, a state that had been so thoroughly transformed that
many traces of the past had been erased. According to the legend,
some of the earliest settlers of Minas Gerais came from São Vicente,
the capitania that later became the state of São Paulo. They had
come in search of gold and precious stones, but they also captured
indigenous people to sell as slaves to landowners. The “Noturno de
Belo Horizonte” partially hides this violent aspect of the Ban-
deirantes’ deeds. Emphasis is placed on the grandiosity of the his-
torical locations and their importance in Brazil’s independence. The
legends of Brazilian Independence (Tiradentes, a.k.a. Joaquim da
Silva Xavier, the Christ-like martyr)33 furnish the material for the
symbolic re-enactment of the nation’s immutable historical core:
33
Tirandentes is the nickname of Joaquim José da Silva Xavier, one of the
founding fathers of Brazilian independence. Born in Minas Gerais, Tiradentes be-
came the martyr of Brazilian independence because of his public execution. For
more on Tiradentes, see Cheney, Journey of the Estrada Real.
No marasmo das cidades paradas...

Passado a fuchicar as almas,
…………………………………………
E dos palácios de Mariana e Vila Rica...
Isto é: Ouro Preto.
E o nome lindo de São José d’El Rei mudado num odontoló-
gico Tiradentes...
Respeitemos os mártires. (130)
In the apathy of the stagnant villages...

The past whispers to the souls,
……………………………………..
And of the palaces of Mariana and Vila Rica...
That is: Ouro Preto.
And the gorgeous name of São José d’El Rei changed into an
odontological Tiradentes...
We must respect the martyrs
The tone here is reverential, but not entirely devoid of irony. There is
a certain amount of humor and playfulness in these descriptions,
which are filled with magic, exaggeration, and a kind of didactic tone
that is respectful with regard to the images described, but that per-
forms the function of creating distance between the poetic voice and
its subject matter, because of the dichotomy between a poetic lan-
guage that is modern and fragmented and the almost childish inflec-
tion of this particular passage. But the ethos of this playful irony is ul-
timately respectful.
Once more, all the monuments of the past are evoked for their ca-
pacity to petrify historical time and thus provide an amalgam for the
discourse of national identity. On the one hand, these historical towns
are living pieces of history that inspire the primitivism of the poem’s
message of national identity. On the other hand, it is exactly the phan-
tasmagorical atmosphere of these historical towns that triggers the po-
et’s imagination and fantasy. These places retain the messianic energy
of a theocratic era that appears here as the perfect antithesis of moder-
nity. The poetic voice summons the ghosts who inhabit old churches
as well as the spirit of Tiradentes. This is done in a language similar to
prayers in which saints are invoked. This fantasy is ruled by a mythical
time symbolizing colonial times as eternal, static, and inescapable.
The shift from local (Minas and São Paulo) to national appears
toward the end of the poem in a most unabashed celebration of
Brazil’s Lusitanian roots. After reproducing a number of local leg-

ends, Mário addresses a collective readership, the people of Brazil,
speaking of his desire to tell all of Minas’ folk tales to the whole of
Brazil. Minas, in his view, was one of the oldest and best preserved
sites of colonial Brazil and thereby guarded the essence of an identi-
ty that was shared among all other regions of the vast Brazilian ter-
ritory: “Filhos do Luso e da melancholia/Vem, gente de Alagoas e
de Mato Grosso,/De norte e sul homens fluviais do Amazonas e do
rio Paraná (Poesias completas 133) [Sons of the Luso and of melan-
choly/Come people from Alagoas and Mato Grosso, From north
and south river men of the Amazonas and of the Paraná river.].
The poem celebrates melancholia as a trait of the Brazilian na-
tional character and is itself a melancholy discourse of national
identity. Most of the positive aspects of Brazilian culture mentioned
in this tour de force spring from a look back in time to colonial as
well as an immemorial time. The past of Minas Gerais–with its tra-
ditions, myths, martyrs, oral legends, and architectural monuments
(all of them symbols of the Portuguese colonization)–provides the
amalgam for the integration of Brazil as a modern nation. Andrade
pleads to his countrymen in every corner of the nation, especially
rural areas, to join him in the celebration of Brazil’s Lusitanian her-
itage. The urban proletariat, with its multitudes of nationalities and
languages, cannot count as the people being addressed here.
Catholicism is also an essential part of the vast inventory of in-
trinsic characteristics of national culture:
Juro que foi Nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo Ele mesmo

Que plantou a sua cruz no adro das capelas da serra!
Foi Ele mesmo que em São João d’El Rei
Esculpiu as imagens dos seus santos... (Poesias Completas 134)
I swear it was Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself

Who planted his cross in the atrium of the chapels of the hill!
It was he Himself who in São João d’El Rei
Sculpted the images of his saints...
In this series of references to religious imagery the poetic discourse

pays tribute to Aleijadinho, the sculptor of most of these images,
suggesting that it was Jesus who guided his hands. This stanza also
makes a reference to the popular notion that “God is a Brazilian” as
the poetic voice swears that Christ himself planted his cross in some
remote churches of the countryside. The poet gathers mostly reli-

gious but also pagan myths. Brazil’s integration, which was still a
political dream in 1924, is affirmed based on a spiritual connection
among diverse cultures that nonetheless share important traits:
“Nós somos na Terra o grande milagre do amor!/ E embora tão di-
versa a nossa vida/ Dansamos juntos no carnaval das gentes (136).
[We are on Earth the great miracle of love!/And although our lives
are so diverse/ We dance together in the carnival of peoples.].
The sentimentality of these verses evinces a striking similarity to
Romantic texts. Brazil’s integration is represented as a miracle of
love, which is celebrated during carnival. In this series of po-
pulist/nationalist clichés the poetic voice resorts to the myth of
Brazilian racial democracy through the nation’s most appealing pop-
ular festivity: carnival. Brazilians are different, but there are aspects
of the culture that unite the nation. The list of symbols of nationality
used in this poem is long, and it emphasizes both the plurality and
wholeness of Brazilian culture, since these manifestations tend to be
shared among distinct subcultures. Andrade relies on history, popu-
lar culture, culinary arts, folklore, religion, language, race, ethnicity,
class, territoriality, heritage, politics, art, architecture, music, litera-
ture, and a variety of myths to construct this colossal piece. Once
again, in spite of the fragmented structure of the poem, there is a to-
talizing drive that strives to include as many remnants of the shared
cultural background as possible. However, all of these components
are evoked not as the dynamic fusion of temporalities and cultures of
the urban landscapes of the present but in a static form that privi-
leges the past and the rural. The present, marked by accelerated
modernization and industrialization, is repressed in this poem. This
repressed matter is precisely what causes the anxiety and the return
to the origins performed in the poem.
Instead of dealing directly with the present state of affairs, the
modernist discourse of national identity often suggests the reconcilia-
tion of tradition with modernity. In “Noturno de Belo Horizonte,”
Mário attempts such reconciliation, but the references to modernity
are minimal, selective, and usually full of criticism against the futili-
ty of certain modernizing endeavors. In this poem there are no refer-
ences to immigration or industrialization. The poem “Noturno de Be-
lo Horizonte” is a perfect example of a representation of nationality
that fits the coffee aristocracy’s agenda. Through various reconstruc-
tions of the myth of bandeirismo the aristocracy and the modernists
of São Paulo reclaimed paternity of two major historical develop-

ments: the coffee boom and the subsequent modernization and in-
dustrialization of São Paulo and Brazil. Most importantly, in texts
like “Noturno de Belo Horizonte” this cultural project also suc-
ceeded in marginalizing the immigrant proletariat and the immi-
grant industrialists who were among those actually at the forefront
of the process of industrialization.
Even in his earliest and most iconoclastic urban-themed poetic
outputs, Mário de Andrade activates the discourse of tradition. As I
demonstrated here, in Paulicéia desvairada, this was done not simply
to affirm the paulista pride or to celebrate modernity by giving it a
historical pedigree. The traditions invoked do not simply satisfy a
harmless and nostalgic desire to reconnect with the origins. Both in
the case of the affirmation of Catholicism and in the summoning of
the myth of bandeirismo in Paulicéia, there is a reactive overtone that
makes these assertions of identity part of a confrontation with the un-
familiar, which is deemed inauthentic, parasitical, or degenerative.
Catholicism is affirmed in opposition to Protestantism and to Free-
mansonry. The epic narrative of bandeirismo is often activated to
confront the lifestyle and attitudes of the nouveau-riche immigrant.
In both cases the discourse of tradition is used to critique undesir-
able aspects of modernity. Therefore, some of the ruptures that this
poetic discourse represents are not ruptures with the past or neces-
sarily with that which represented continuity with traditions. On the
contrary, this critique often shores up tradition in order to break with
certain aspects of the present. These are aspects that are rarely com-
mented on in most of the criticism that this classic book has received.
By the same token the affirmation of national identity in “No-
turno de Belo Horizonte” involves much more than a benign decla-
ration of love for the historical patrimony of Minas Gerais or a cele-
bration of the Brazilian countryside. The discourse of national
integration in this poem is informed by the myth of bandeirismo,
which carries a highly questionable and contentious claim of superi-
ority and pioneering entrepreneurship of the ancestral paulista. By
extension, this discourse affirms the same about those who consid-
ered themselves descendants of that noble race of pioneers. The acti-
vation of this myth also hides (and indirectly affirms) the violence
that was involved in the Bandeirantes’ deeds. It is a discourse that
idealizes the colonial past by making unfounded claims about the
foundational and civilizational character of the mythical ancestors’
enterprise. Therefore, there is a confrontational, ethnocentric, and

imperialistic undercurrent built into this foundational narrative.
The tension between tradition and modernity is central to Mod-
ernism as a whole. However, in Andrade’s poetic works under
analysis here, binary poles, such as national/foreign, rural/urban
cultures, and immigrants/natives, appear in multiple configurations,
frequently as incompatible categories, each with its own intrinsic
and permanent characteristics. Mário’s figurations, in the texts ana-
lyzed here, tend to idealize the native and rural aspects of Brazilian
culture. The other end of the spectrum occupied by that which
bears the mark of the foreign (immigrants, the bourgeoisie, and ur-
ban cultures) constitutes a dilemma in Andrade’s poetic discourse
in the early 1920s. This anxiety results in many reconfigurations of
the discourse of tradition and its relationship with modernity in
Mário’s work.
Because of his openness to aesthetic experimentation Mário de
Andrade is an author who is usually considered to represent the
most innovative front of the modernist movement. Such attitudes of
experimentation with language are usually deemed to be expres-
sions of a radical defiance of literary, artistic, and social conven-
tions. The arguments about Mário de Andrade’s formal, political,
and ideological openness are based on the author’s incorporation of
a new set of aesthetic procedures, his use of the vernacular (the so-
called Brazilian language), his interest in popular culture, his focus
on the here and now, the subversion of traditional themes in his po-
etry, and many other arguments in this vein. These arguments not
only oversimplify the author’s work, but these interpretations over-
look the complexity and the contradictions of Mário’s purported
rupture with the past.
CHAPTER FIVE
ATAVISTIC MODERNITY IN OSWALD DE

ANDRADE’S PAU-BRASIL
de Andrade was the most polarizing figure of the mod-

O SWALD
ernist movement. His legacy includes some of the most influ-
ential avant-garde prose and poetry ever produced in the early years
of the movement. His “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil” (1924) and
“Manifesto Antropófago” (1928) are among the most persuasive
and polemical programmatic texts of the entire modernist move-
ment. The most acclaimed of his fictional prose work are the exper-
imental novels Memórias sentimentais de João Miramar (1924) and
Serafim Ponte Grande (1927). Oswald also authored conventional
novels that compose the Trilogia do Exílio (1922-34), whose lan-
guage and style were influenced by D’Annunzio and Oscar Wilde,
icons of the Belle Époque.1 In the 1930s and 40s Oswald also pro-
duced important plays and philosophical writings.2
Oswald left only three volumes of poetry, including Pau-Brasil
(1925), Primeiro caderno do aluno de poesia Oswald de Andrade
(1927), and Cântico dos cânticos para flauta e violão (1942).3 The im-
portance of Oswald’s poetry was not fully acknowledged at the time
his first poems were released. In the first edition of the Apresen-
tação da poesia brasileira (1946), for instance, Manuel Bandeira did
1
The trilogy includes the novels Os condenados (1922), Estrela de absinto
(1927), and Escada vermelha (1934).
2
The most important plays are O rei da vela (1937) and A morta (1937). His
main philosophical work is A crise da filosofia messiânica (1950).
3
These books were later compiled in one volume called Poesias reunidas.
220
ATAVISTIC MODERNITY IN OSWALD DE ANDRADE’S PAU-BRASIL 221
not include Oswald’s work.4 Full recognition of his innovative poet-

ry came in the 1950s, after the poets of the concrete movement, also
known as the Noigandres group (Augusto de Campos, Haroldo de
Campos, and Décio Pignatari), rescued Oswald’s body of work, es-
pecially his poetry, which became the main source for their cultural
movement. Ever since, the manifestos and the poetry of Oswald de
Andrade have inspired many cultural movements–including the
Tropicalist movement–and the work of many other poets.5
In an effort to counteract the negative reception that Oswald’s
poetry received from fellow modernist writers, criticism has empha-
sized the aesthetic innovations and radical ideological rupture that
his work represented. The beginning of this reevaluation of Os-
wald’s work coincided with the hardening of the military dictator-
ship in Brazil, when Oswald’s anthropophagy also became the in-
spiration for the Tropicalist movement in music, theater, and the
arts.6 As I explained in chapter two, the line of criticism led by the
Campos brothers incorporated Oswald’s anthropophagy to propose
a reevaluation of the Brazilian canon in an attempt to subvert tradi-
tional historiography, emphasizing aspects of the defiance and criti-
cal assimilation of European values.
Oswald becomes the avatar of the left, and the image that
emerges from this reevaluation is, as Roberto Schwarz observes, the
“well-known picture of the front-line modernist, the expert sub-
verter of linguistic conventions, critical and revolutionary” (“The
Cart” 111). Some of the concepts developed by Oswald in his pro-
4
The first edition was released in 1946. In the second edition Bandeira dedi-
cates only three pages to Oswald’s poetry. To Bandeira, Oswald’s poetry was just:
“versos de um romancista em férias, de um homem muito preocupado com os
problemas de sua terra e do mundo . . . exprimindo-se ironicamente, como se es-
tivesse a brincar” (139). [verses of a novelist on vacation, of a man who is very wor-
ried about the problems of his land and of the world . . . expressing himself ironically
as if he was joking].
5
Besides the poets of the Poesia Concreta movement, Oswald’s concise poetic
language as well as the concepts included in his manifestos influenced poets and
musicians associated with Tropicália, including Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil.
More recently, the music and poetry of Arnaldo Antunes are also influenced by Os-
wald’s manifestos and his poetry. For more on Tropicália and its dialogue with Os-
wald’s Antropofagia and Pau-Brasil, see Dunn, Brutality Garden 15-20.
6
The hardening of the military dictatorship happened in 1968 with the imposi-
tion of the AI-5 (Ato Institucional 5) [Institutional Act 5], which severely limited
civil liberties, closed the Congress, suspended elections, and gave unlimited power
to the regime. For more on this episode and its consequences, see Gaspari, A di-
tadura escancarada.
grammatic text become the foundation for the interpreters of his

work. The enthusiasm of the Noigandres group influences the
works of many other scholars who specialized in the work of Os-
wald de Andrade. It is consensus among these scholars to affirm
that the poetic language of Oswald represents a radical rupture
with the poetic conventions of the time, and is also the instrument
the author used to perform a radical critique of history. Many re-
produce Oswald’s claim that the poetic language of Pau-Brasil is
spontaneous, simple, and inventive. Following Haroldo de Campos’
interpretation, many affirm that Oswald’s Pau-Brasil project7 pro-
motes the desacralizing of the poetic language, which undermines
linguistic and social conventions and hierarchies.8
These statements are usually made in reference to the poetry of
Pau-Brasil as a whole, but these authors rarely specify a poem to ex-
emplify how this operation takes place. The analysis I provide of
some of the poems in Pau-Brasil contests, and sometimes supple-
ments, these overtly celebratory interpretations of Oswald’s Pau-
Brasil project. My readings dialogue with both the negative and the
celebratory reception of the project. I do not completely discard
any of the arguments made in favor of or against it, but I challenge
these broad statements regarding the entire poetry book. Because
Pau-Brasil is too complex and contradictory a book to be defined in
general terms, my analysis does not purport to encompass the total-
ity of the book. The aspects of Oswald’s poems that I will focus on
here have to do with the references to an immaterial dimension of
history and modernity. I single out moments in which a background
narrative based on historical and mythical elements appears in these
poems. These narrative fragments are deployed to explain visual as-
pects (the landscape or the materials) utilized in the poetic dis-
course. I will focus mainly on the poems that compose the section
“São Martinho” and on other poems in which the myth of ban-
deirismo is evoked.
In my interpretation the Pau-Brasil project is, at best, an expres-
sion of the paradoxes of modernization in an underdeveloped
7
In reference to Oswald’s cultural project as a whole, including the manifesto
and the poetry book, I am using the word Pau-Brasil in capital letters but with no
underlining.
8
Based on Benjamin’s concept of the “aura,” Campos develops these argu-
ments in “Uma poética da radicalidade” 17-24. These arguments are by and large
reproduced by Boaventura, “O projeto” 48; Eleutério 106-09; Fonseca 144-50; He-
lena 147; Nunes, “Antropofagia” 10; Oliveira 102-08.
country. However, the fact that this poetry attempts to encompass

past and present to make the contradictions of Brazilian modernity
explicit does not exempt this discourse from the same problems it
tries to address. The concepts and the language of this poetry give
form to the paradoxes of Brazilian modernity, but revealing these
paradoxes in an aesthetically radical poetic language does not auto-
matically make this discourse evenly critical of history and of
modernity. If it is true that Pau-Brasil updates the poetic language
in Brazil, as Haroldo de Campos argues (“Uma poética da radicali-
dade” 10), it is necessary to point out that this poetry also updates
the discourse of tradition. The relationship with traditional histori-
cal discourse in Pau-Brasil is more complex and contradictory than
the explanation given by those who condemn it (i. e. Alceu
Amoroso Lima, Manuel Bandeira, Mário de Andrade, Carlos
Drummond de Andrade) or those who celebrate it (The Campos
brothers, Décio Pignatari, Paulo Prado, Benedito Nunes, and the
Verdeamarelo group). A wide range of attitudes is expressed in the
poems whose subject is history, which include not only distancing
and rejection, critical assimilation and reconstruction (Campos
24–27), but also complacency, repetition, and even embrace. Often
conflicting attitudes are expressed in the same poem.
Before analyzing the poems, I contextualize Oswald’s Pau-Brasil
project by highlighting elements that it shares with other texts of the
same time period, especially the totalizing impetus to build a fragment-
ed “epic” that defines modernity in relation to certain historical and
economic developments. Next, I summarize and interpret the main
propositions of the Pau-Brasil manifesto. I reflect on many of the con-
tradictions of the Pau-Brasil project by dialoguing with the earliest re-
views written by fellow modernists about the book of poetry and the
manifesto. In the last section I analyze the poems of “São Martinho”
and those that make direct reference to the myth of bandeirismo.
EPIC PRIMITIVISM IN SEARCH OF THE ROOTS OF MODERNITY
Oswald de Andrade was always up-to-date with the latest liter-

ary and artistic trends in Paris. Born in 1890 to a wealthy family,9
9
Oswald’s mother, Inês Henriqueta de Sousa Andrade, came from a traditional
bourgeois family. His father was a well-established lawyer who also descended from
a wealthy family. For more on the author’s aristocratic origins, see Boaventura, O
salão 13-15.
Oswald was able to afford many trips to Europe throughout his life,
especially during the 1920s.10 In 1923 Oswald met Blaise Cendrars
in Paris and introduced the Swiss poet to Paulo Prado. Oswald’s
Pau-Brasil project (including the “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil”
and the poetry book Pau-Brasil) was influenced by this encounter.
Pau-Brasil was first published in France by Blaise Cendrars’ pub-
lishers, Sans Pareil. It was Cendrars who recommended Oswald to
the publishers (Roig, Blaise Cendrars 13). Both the manifesto and
the poetry book marked Oswald’s first forays into the aesthetics of
primitivism, and both were partly inspired by the 1924 “Rediscov-
ery Tour” of Minas Gerais and other historical sites in Brazil.11 Also
related to that same era and inspired by his experience in the
Brazilian countryside, Blaise Cendrars composed his “Metaphysics
of Coffee,” an essay first published in O Jornal in Rio de Janeiro in
October of 1927. Carrie Noland argues that Cendrars’ essay “reads
somewhat like an advertisement for the industrialization of Brazil”
(405). The São Martinho farm12 features prominently in Cendrars’
“Metaphysics” and in Oswald de Andrade’s Pau-Brasil.13 In both
texts there is a clear impulse to conceptualize the inception of
Brazilian modernity as a derivative of the coffee business. The
themes of modernization and the coffee monoculture frame this
discourse, which combines historical, mythical, and metaphysical
elements. Both these texts place the coffee monoculture as the en-
gine behind the modernizing process in the country.
In fact, many publications that appeared in the period between
1924 and 1927–including Oswald de Andrade’s Pau-Brasil, Mário
de Andrade’s “Noturno de Belo Horizonte,” Blaise Cendrars’
“Metaphysics,” and Paulo Prado’s Paulística–strive to express a
symbolic essence of the modernizing process. Their representation
and critique of modernity go beyond technological, historical, or
10
In the new edition of his autobiography there are previously unpublished
texts, and in one of them Oswald affirms that he went to Europe twelve times in his
life. See “Minha vida em cinco atos,” Um homem sem profissão 203.
11
For more details on this tour, see Amaral 45–77.
12
The fazenda São Martinho was one of the main properties of the Prado fami-
ly. Blaise Cendrars describes the coffee plantation at this property as “an emerald
sea, a profound ocean, somber, taciturn, as if immobilized: 3 or 4 million coffee-
plants” (Noland 410). For more details on the farm, see Roig, “La fazenda São Mar-
tinho” 60–67.
13
The farm is the main theme of the section “São Martinho.” It does not ap-
pear in the other sections of the book.
strictly economic factors. All of these texts refer to economic, mate-

rial, historical, and cultural aspects of modernization, but there is
also an additional layer of signification in the allusions made to cer-
tain immanent or metaphysical dimensions in the modernizing
process. The link between the colonial past and the present is es-
tablished through a special concept of genealogy, which is not
based on blood relations but on telluric and atavistic linkages. The
search is not simply for what is unique about Brazilian modernity
but to define the spirit that animates the legitimate agents behind
this process. According to Noland, Cendrars’ essay praises the cof-
fee monoculture for its successful systematization and homogeniza-
tion of production, which in many ways contradicts the author’s en-
thusiasm for hybridity (405). Cendrars also depicts the coffee
aristocrat as a special being. The coffee entrepreneur in Cendrars’
text is associated with the German philosopher Immanuel Kant.
This association, according to Noland, establishes a relationship
“between metaphysical principles of universal taste and the geopol-
itics of global monoculture” (411). The coffee aristocrat appears as
the link between premodern and modern times, and for this reason
the aristocrat is represented as the main agent in the modernizing
process. The coffee business and the pioneering spirit of those re-
sponsible for its success in Brazil represent, in Cendrars’ view, one
of the distinctive aspects of the originality of Brazilian modernity.
In Mário de Andrade’s “Noturno,” the references to the coffee
aristocracy are done indirectly through an appropriation of the glo-
rious past of Minas Gerais that places the pioneer spirit of the
paulistas (both in their ancestral and modern-day incarnations) as
legitimate ushers of modernization. While Mário’s “Noturno” is a
colossal piece, whose epic discourse discarded many aspects of
modernity and privileged historical monuments and the culture of
the countryside as the foundation of the Brazilian civilization, Os-
wald’s Pau-Brasil is a concise, ironic and self-questioning epic that
embraces both the colonial and modern aspects of Brazilian culture
and history with equal intensity. The references to the aristocracy in
Oswald’s poetry are specific. Paulo Prado and the São Martinho
farm represent the rural aristocracy in these poems. In spite of the
fragmented nature of both poetic discourses, there is a clear totaliz-
ing drive behind them.
Pau-Brasil starts with the section “Poemas da colonização,”
which features themes of Brazil’s early history, and ends with
“Loide brasileiro,” whose poems deal with themes of that time.

Therefore, there is a chronological timeline that structures the
book, despite the fragmented language and the random topics that
feature in each section. The very structure of the book emphasizes
historical continuity and discontinuity, causality and randomness,
heroism and humor. With regard to Oswald’s late debut in poetry
and the epic impulse behind Pau-Brasil, Décio Pignatari made the
following remarks:
Prosador decadentista e católico, tornou-se poeta aos 35 anos de

idade... Ou seja, em Oswald, a prosa veio antes da poesia. Seu
Pau Brasil não é uma coletânea de poemas genético-culturais: é
uma miniépica sarreante da formação da cultura brasílica, onde a
própria paisagem vira escultura. Esta heroi-comicidade cultural e
sociopolítica será marca zeradora de sua obra até o extremo fim
(“Tempo: invenção e inversão” 14).
Decadent prose writer and Catholic, [Oswald] became a poet at

35 years of age . . . That is, in Oswald, prose came before poetry.
His Pau Brasil is not a collection of genetic-cultural poems: it is a
comic miniepic of the formation of the brasilic [sic] culture, in
which the very landscape becomes a sculpture. This cultural and
sociopolitical heroic-comic aspect will be the zero mark of his
work until the very end.
Pignatari sees a dichotomy between the heroic aspect of the epic re-
construction of history and the comic vein that pervades the poems
in the book. The author interprets these antithetical elements as
mutually nullifying aspects in Oswald’s entire oeuvre. In relation to
the Pau-Brasil project (the manifesto and the poetry book), Pig-
natari’s remark seems plausible, since many of the concepts laid out
in these texts frequently clash and seem to negate one another. As a
concrete poet, Pignatari’s reading is similar to that of Haroldo de
Campos, as he emphasizes the materiality of Oswald’s descriptive
poems, but his own observations about the epic and comic signifi-
cance of Oswald’s work lead to other dimensions of the author’s
work.
This epic impetus behind the fragmented and concise language
of Oswald’s poems is not always perceptible, but there are several
storylines filled with allusions to heroic characters and deeds fea-
tured in these sparsely conceived poems. Oswald, Cendrars, and
Prado were close friends and collaborators at that time. Blaise Cen-
drars’ interest in the Brazilian countryside, and especially in the
works of Aleijadinho in Minas Gerais, inspired the primitivism of
both Mário and Oswald. Paulo Prado’s interest in history, especially
in the history of São Paulo, also influenced the modernists. Alexan-
dre Eulálio affirms that Prado’s research and view of history had a
strong impact on Oswald at the time (28–30). It was not by coinci-
dence that Paulo Prado wrote a preface in praise of Pau-Brasil at
the time of its first publication in 1925. In fact, the preface is more
than just an endorsement. It was also a gesture of gratitude toward
Oswald. Originally, Pau-Brasil was dedicated to Paulo Prado: “Ao
meu amigo e chefe político Paulo Prado” (Qtd. in Boaventura, O
salão 113) [For my friend and political boss, Paulo Prado]. Howev-
er, Oswald ended up dedicating the book to Blaise Cendrars, since
the Swiss poet was responsible for the book’s publication in France.
Cendrars also appears as a character in some poems, especially the
ones in the “São Martinho” section of the book.
The period that marked the closest collaboration among these
men started around 1923, when Oswald met Cendrars, and it con-
tinued until 1929, when Oswald de Andrade broke with Paulo Pra-
do in April and then with Mário de Andrade in July.14 Mário de An-
drade and Paulo Prado remained friends for the rest of their lives.
In solidarity to Prado, Cendrars also distanced himself from Os-
wald (Oliveira 119). The year 1929 was a fateful one, especially for
the coffee business. Oswald suffered the effects of the financial cri-
sis; however, the mid-1920s were times of prosperity and marital
happiness for him. Tarsila and Oswald were finally able to get offi-
cially married in October of 1926. They had been in a relationship
since 1924. In 1926 the couple moved to a farm, Santa Teresa do
Alto, which Oswald bought from Tarsila’s father. This was the time
of “Oswald, the farmer,” who was able to reconcile with life on the
farm and continue with his artistic pursuits in the urban centers of
Brazil and Europe (Fonseca 160). These were times of euphoria
14
No one knows for sure the reasons for the breakup between Oswald de An-
drade and Paulo Prado. Most intellectuals connected to Prado remained loyal to
him and broke with Oswald, including Alcântara Machado, Mário de Andrade, and
Blaise Cendrars. There might have been political reasons behind this break since
Oswald remained loyal to the Partido Republicano Paulista, while Prado, Mário,
and Alcântara Machado were members of the Partido Democrático. For more on
this issue, see Amaral, Correspondência 161, and Boaventura, O salão 139-43.
and the program for the Pau-Brasil project, and much of the poetry
of Pau-Brasil reflects part of this enthusiasm and optimism. Howev-
er, this is just one of the aspects of this complex and contradictory
project.
THE PROGRAM OF THE “MANIFESTO DA POESIA PAU-BRASIL”
Oswald’s first programmatic text, “Manifesto da poesia Pau-

Brasil,” was published in March of 1924 in the newspaper Correio
da Manhã (Boaventura, O salão 94). The manifesto laid out the con-
cepts and the program for the poetry book. It was striking in many
ways, since it partly utilized the same concise language and a profu-
sion of paradoxical statements that would also appear in the poetry
of Pau-Brasil. In other words, it was a manifesto that put in practice
the aesthetics and the concepts that it prescribed. In fact, the mani-
festo appears in abridged form as “Falação,” one of the opening
poems in Pau-Brasil.
The manifesto still confounds today’s reader because it deliber-
ately affirms concepts and ideas that stand in direct opposition. In
one of the opening entries it welcomes the erudition of Rui Barbosa
and the pedantic language of scholars and lawyers: “O lado doutor,
o lado citações . . . Falar difícil” (41). [The doctor side [of things],
the citation side . . . To speak [in a] difficult [language]. Then, a few
lines below, it prescribes a language that is free from erudition: “A
língua sem arcaísmos, sem erudição . . . a contribuição milionária de
todos os erros” (42). [Language without archaic expressions; with-
out erudition . . . the rich contribution of all errors]. On the one
hand, the manifesto prescribes both technique and geometrical pre-
cision: “pelo equilíbrio geômetra e pelo acabamento técnico” (43)
[in favor of geometric balance and technical finishing]. On the oth-
er hand, the program also emphasizes spontaneity, surprise, and in-
vention: “Contra a cópia, pela invenção e pela surpresa” (43)
[Against the copy, in favor of invention and surprise.]. Even though
Oswald’s poetry relies heavily on visual elements, the manifesto re-
pudiates this visual aspect: “Substituir a perspectiva visual e natu-
ralista por uma perspectiva de outra ordem: sentimental, intellectu-
al, irônica, ingênua” (43) [Substitute the visual and naturalistic
perspective with a perspective of a different order: sentimental, in-
tellectual, ironic, naïve.]. Oswald explains one concept by lining up
adjectives that seem to contradict each other. How can a perspec-

tive be ironic and naïve at the same time? Also, since the Pau-Brasil
project is said to react against romantic sentimentalism,15 it seems
contradictory that the manifesto prescribes a sentimental perspec-
tive. This deeply paradoxical feature of Oswald’s work is precisely
what challenges and polarizes critics.
In a 1990 introduction to Oswald’s programmatic texts Benedi-
to Nunes attempts to disambiguate some of these antithetical state-
ments in the manifesto by providing an explanation of the origin of
the concepts that inspire the poetry of Pau-Brasil. The author ex-
plains that the goal of the manifesto was to reconcile erudite culture
with popular culture in a hybrid that would underscore the ethnic
miscegenation of the Brazilian people (“Antropofagia” 13).16 Os-
wald’s primitivism, in Nunes’ view, assimilates concepts from the
type of primitivism that searched for the cathartic element in art
with an emphasis on the discharge of emotions, spontaneity, and
the expression of the unconscious – features that informed the psy-
chological primitivism of Dadaism and Surrealism (9). However,
Oswald also incorporated the geometric primitivism of the external
forms from Cubism. According to Nunes, Oswald added to the
Pau-Brasil project features of Futurism, since the manifesto also ex-
alted the modern life of the urban environment. Oswald’s concepts
for the Pau-Brasil project were, similar to Mário de Andrade’s
primitivism, highly influenced by the purism of forms and the exal-
tation of technique advocated by the Purists in L’Esprit Nouveau.
Nunes argues that the manifesto and the poetry book converge on
these two main concepts. On the one hand, the project embraces
the kind of psychological primitivism that values the notion of an
instinctual collective spirit. On the other hand, the aesthetic project
values simplification and the purifying of the forms, which would
capture the underlying “native originality.” The project embraces,
according to Nunes, all “facts of culture,” including visual, folk-
loric, historical, ethnic, economic, culinary, and linguistic elements
that are unique to Brazil (10).
15
Paulo Prado’s preface clearly emphasizes this aspect (59). Drummond also
detects this trait in Oswald’s poetry, and he agrees with Oswald by recognizing that:
“Precisamos reagir contra o sentimentalismo e o romantismo” (238). [We need to
react against sentimentalism and romanticism.].
16
Nunes provides a similar explanation of Pau-Brasil’s concepts and the texts
that influenced Oswald’s primitivism in Oswald canibal 29-33.
Nunes’ description of Oswald’s appropriation of primitivism

elucidates some of the reasons for the manifesto’s disparate state-
ments. The combination of various forms of primitivism with futur-
ism alone reveals the heterogeneity of the ideas and the aesthetics of
the Pau-Brasil program. My only contention with Nunes’ rendering
of the manifesto is that the author takes Oswald’s ideas and propo-
sitions in the manifesto at face value, as if these were in fact accom-
plished in the poetic discourse of Pau-Brasil. By paraphrasing Os-
wald’s manifesto, Nunes argues that the Pau-Brasil program entails
a revolutionary social praxis: democratization and the elimination
of hierarchies (“Antropofagia” 12). It may be true that Oswald at-
tempted to portray Brazilian history and culture with “free eyes,”17
but the end result would need to be evaluated more carefully be-
fore such a conclusion can be drawn.
Perhaps because of the affirmative ethos of this poetry, which
attempts to indiscriminately embrace all aspects of Brazilian history,
Pau-Brasil managed to polarize its readers since it first came out.
The sort of idyllic primitivism mixed with irony and humor that
frames many of these poems both inspired euphoric approval and
provoked suspicion, especially among those who saw it as an at-
tempt to bring out the exotic in the most prosaic aspects of the cul-
ture and its history.
THE DIVIDED RECEPTION OF THE PAU-BRASIL PROJECT
In aesthetic terms Oswald de Andrade’s first poetry book is re-

garded as one of the earliest and most radical examples of primi-
tivism to appear within the modernist movement in Brazil. At the
time of their release both the manifesto and the poetry book caused
a great deal of controversy among the intellectual public. Some re-
ceived them with enthusiasm, but most of Oswald’s fellow mod-
ernists expressed some reservations with regard to the aesthetic
program and the view of Brazilian national identity advocated in
the Pau-Brasil project. Many of them wrote negative reviews of
both the manifesto and the poetry book. Manuel Bandeira, for in-
stance, published one of the earliest and most contemptuous re-
views18 of Oswald’s manifesto:
17
In the manifesto Oswald writes: “Ver com olhos livres” (44). [See with free eyes.].
18
Boaventura affirms that this review was originally published in the magazine
O Mundo Literário in 1924. See O salão e a selva 114.
O programa de Oswald de Andrade é ser brasileiro. Aborreço os

poetas que lembram da nacionalidade quando fazem versos. Eu
quero falar do que me der na cabeça. Quero ser eventualmente
mistura de turco com sírio-libanês
. . . O seu primitivismo consiste em plantar bananeiras e pôr de
cócoras embaixo dois ou três negros tirados da Antologia do Sr.
Blaise Cendrars. (Andorinha, andorinha 247–48)
Oswald de Andrade’s program is to be Brazilian. I loathe poets

that remember nationality when they write verses. I want to write
what comes to my mind. I want to be occasionally a mix between
a Turkish and a Sirio-Lebanese . . . His [Oswald’s] primitivism
consists of planting banana trees and putting two or three ne-
groes taken from Mr. Blaise Cendrars’ Anthology kneeling down
under [the banana trees].
Despite its derisive tone, Bandeira’s critique of the manifesto raises

some serious issues that became non-issues over time. To begin
with, Bandeira questions the very notion of nationalism in litera-
ture. The fact that Oswald’s manifesto prescribes a program for au-
thentic national expression already constitutes a limitation to which
Bandeira, as a poet, would not subscribe. Even though Oswald’s
manifesto defends freedom from traditional poetic expression, it al-
so imposes its own norms and sets limits as to what constitutes le-
gitimate national poetry. However, the aspect that Bandeira finds
most problematic in Oswald’s aesthetics is the unintended effect
that the simplified language and imagery used in the manifesto im-
parts.
In his attempt to overcome prejudice and to present the familiar
as a surprise, Oswald’s iconography tends to utilize simplified im-
ages and signs that could convey aspects of uniqueness and purity
in Brazilian culture. This is intended, of course, as an affirmative
view of various forms of cultural expression in Brazil. However, the
simplified language and imagery can also impart the notion of su-
perficiality because it results in a portrayal that privileges the topi-
cal and external aspects, for instance, of Afro-Brazilian culture.19
19
Pau-Brasil is a book of great density and complexity. Bandeira’s critique is di-
rected against the manifesto, which was a simpler text, but still a very dense docu-
ment. I am simply paraphrasing Bandeira’s review. I believe that Bandeira meant to
criticize the aesthetic simplicity of the manifesto. His review was not meant to ques-
The search for simplicity was part of what Oswald meant by seeing
Brazil with “free eyes;” of eliminating prejudices, or rediscovering
his own culture by casting a fresh look onto its most familiar as-
pects with the intent to reinvigorate poetic and artistic expression
through a return to the most essential elements of artistic and poet-
ic language. And from the aesthetic point of view, the poetry of
Pau-Brasil successfully articulates these elements. However, despite
the radical reduction and the intended purging of ornamentation in
the poetic language, the Pau-Brasil project was still perceived as a
program for new kind of orientalism. In spite of (and also because
of) its affirmative and sometimes benevolent portrayal of cultural
aspects that were mundane to the Brazilian readership, the aesthetic
of the Pau-Brasil project was deemed by some to be a caricature.20
What Bandeira saw in Oswald’s figurations was a gaze that is
typical of the European in search of tropical exoticism in the cul-
ture of primitive societies to be domesticated for bourgeois con-
sumption. Bandeira accuses Cendrars of being an advocate of ex-
actly this type of superficial, anthropological collection of
picturesque imagery. Pau-Brasil, as an object, was also conceived of
as a cultural commodity for export. Tarsila do Amaral’s illustrations
in the beginning of each section of the book enhance the visual as-
pect of Oswald’s poetry. As Haroldo de Campos points out, these
illustrations are not simply decorative, but they add, in his words, a
visual “co-information” that is loyal to the verbal message of the
text (36). By privileging the bucolic tropicality of the Brazilian land-
scape, Amaral’s illustrations reinforce the aspect of naiveté of the
Pau-Brasil project. The sophisticated visual iconography that ac-
companied the first edition of this book also enhanced its value as a
collectible, as a commodity for export and consumption by the Eu-
ropean (French) reader.
This commercial appeal was certainly one of the aspects that
Blaise Cendrars saw in Pau-Brasil. In fact, Cendrars’ encounter with
tion Oswald’s knowledge of Brazilian culture. I do not think that a serious critique
of Oswald’s Pau-Brasil project could argue that the author had a superficial knowl-
edge about the topics he transformed into poetry. This would not be a fair assess-
ment of his work.
20
Authors like Carlos Drummond de Andrade (“Homem do pau-brasil” 239)
and Sérgio Milliet (qtd. in Boaventura, “O projeto pau-Brasil” (49)) use the word
“caricature” to describe Pau-Brasil.
Brazilian culture was possibly prompted by the same impulse. Car-

rie Noland explains that “Cendrars’ trip to Brazil, as well as his
contact with Brazilians, took place under the sign of France’s al-
ready well-developed fascination with third-world exotica, a fasci-
nation that often failed to distinguish between African, African-
American, and Luso-African cultures” (404). Through this
perspective, Pau-Brasil’s simplified language and naïve imagery of
the Brazilian landscape acquire yet another significance; a more
pragmatic and commercial aspect that is not usually considered in
much of the criticism about Pau-Brasil and its author. Many years
after Pau-Brasil’s publication, Oswald explained that the aesthetics
of his poetry book were motivated by the enormous interest in
primitive art in France:
O primitivismo que na França aparecia como exoticismo era para

nós, no Brasil, primitivismo mesmo. Pensei, então, em fazer uma
poesia de exportação e não de importação . . . Como o pau-brasil
foi a primeira riqueza brasileira exportada, denominei o movi-
mento Pau-Brasil. Sua feição estética coincidia com o exotismo e
o modernismo 100% de Cendrars, que, de resto, também es-
creveu conscientemente poesia pau-brasil.21
The primitivism that in France seemed like exoticism was to us,

in Brazil, just primitivism. I thought, then, about writing poetry
for export and not for import . . . Since brazil-wood was our first
exported resource, I called the movement Pau-Brasil. Its aesthet-
ic features coincided with the exoticism and modernism 100% of
Cendrars, who, after all, also consciously wrote pau-brasil poetry.
In this explanation Oswald admits that the topic of his poetry was
not something exotic to him, but that the aesthetics that he used
“coincided” with that of Cendrars. Also expressed in the passage is
Oswald’s intent to cater to the French readership, because the
French reader would certainly receive it as something exotic. Os-
wald affirms that Cendrars wrote the kind of brazil-wood poetry
that he proposed, which implies that perhaps Oswald thought that
Cendrars’ view of Brazil did not represent an exotic primitivism.
However, it is still clear that Oswald was aware of the fact that this
21
This is a fragment of Oswald’s interview, given to Péricles Eugênio in 1949
and published in the Correio Paulistano. Qtd. in Campos 31.
poetry could be perceived as exotic primitivism and that this was

something that he actually pursued.
In Oswald’s defense critics affirm that Cendrars’ primitivism
represented that kind of superficial exoticism, but not Oswald’s.22
Campos argues that Oswald’s originality influenced Cendrars and
not the other way around. The author contends that the poems of
Pau-Brasil had already been written when Cendrars composed his
Feuilles de Route (1925), which contained poems that were very
similar to Oswald’s (33). Campos suggests that Cendrars read Os-
wald’s originals and was influenced by them: “Tudo parece indicar
que o poeta suíço . . . teria conhecimento das produções inéditas de
Oswald . . . contagiando-se por elas ou por seu espírito (33). [Every-
thing seems to indicate that the Swiss poet . . . had knowledge of Os-
wald’s unpublished productions . . . being contaminated by them or
by their spirit.]. However, in Campos’ assessment, Cendrars’ book
of poetry was just another exotic product: “Cendrars ficava no
exótico e no paisagístico, na cor local; Oswald dirigia sua objetiva
para além desses aspectos” (34) [Cendrars remained in the exotic
and in the landscape aspects; in the local color; Oswald conducted
his lenses [camera] to beyond these aspects.]. Nunes also defends
the originality of Oswald’s project “[Pau-Brasil] não será pois exoti-
cismo amável e compreensivo de Blaise Cendrars” (“Antropofagia”
14) [ [Pau-Brasil] will not be then the amiable and empathetic ex-
oticism of Cendrars.]. Therefore, both Campos and Nunes affirm
that Oswald’s view of Brazil was deeper and more complex than
that of Cendrars.
It is clear, however, from Oswald’s comments above that the au-
thor admits to being influenced by Cendrars. And Cendrars could
have been influenced by Oswald’s writings as well. The similarities
between Oswald’s and Cendrars’ writings at the time suggest an ex-
change of ideas between them.23 Campos emphasizes the aspect of
defiance of Oswald’s cannibalism in the assimilation of Cendrars’
22
Most critics defend the originality of Oswald’s primitivism, which in their as-
sessment is free of exoticism. Campos (33–34) and Nunes (14) also accuse Cendrars
of such exotic view of Brazil. Others like Eleutério (108); Fonseca (146); Oliveira
(106); and Helena (66) simply affirm the radical and non-exotic aspects of Oswald’s
language.
23
It is necessary to remember that both Campos and Nunes were more than
critics who specialized in the work of Oswald de Andrade. They were intellectuals
whose own ideas and cultural programs were highly influenced by Oswald’s.
techniques: “Oswald pediu-lhe emprestada a máquina fotográfica e

retribuiu-lhe a gentileza comendo-o” (“Da razão antropofágica”
12). [Oswald borrowed his camera and paid him back for the cour-
tesy by eating him.].
Returning to Oswald’s contemporaries who first interpreted
Pau-Brasil, Mário de Andrade at first received it with some reserva-
tion, but he mostly approved of it. In a review written in 1925 he
commented: “Com esses defeitos, qualidade e fartura excepcional
de lirismo sério ou cômico acho Pau Brasil [sic] a obra mais com-
pleta de O. de A” (228).24 [With these defects, qualities, and excep-
tional abundance of serious and comic lyricism, I think that Pau
Brasil [sic] is the most complete work of O. de A.]. Also, in a 1924
letter to Tarsila do Amaral, who was living in France with Oswald,
Mário asks her to tell Oswald that: “Estou inteiramente pau-brasil
[sic] e faço uma propaganda danada do paubrasilismo” (M. Moraes
86). [I am entirely pau-brasil [sic] and I strongly publicize
paubrasilismo.]. However, a few years after this initial approval,
Mário wrote in his Ensaio sobre a música (1928): “O lirismo de Os-
waldo de Andrade é uma brincadeira desabusada... Nas idéias que
expõe não tem idealismo algum .... Não se confunde com a prática.
É arte desinteressada” (15) [The lyricism of Oswaldo de Andrade is
an abusive joke... In the ideas that [it] exposes there is no idealism ....
It cannot be confused with praxis. It is disinterested art.]. This was
written in the period when Mário had radicalized his own concept
of primitivism. The author had turned against the notion of art for
art’s sake and in favor of the collective and utilitarian aspects of art.
To Mário, Pau-Brasil had become the quintessential expression of
bourgeois art.
Carlos Drummond de Andrade’s “O homem do pau brasil,” a
review written in December of 1925,25 critiques both the manifesto
and the poetry book for their lack of substance. The manifesto was,
in his assessment: “Engraçado, inútil e significativo” (238). [Funny,
useless and significant]. Just as the manifesto did not prove any-
thing to Drummond, the poetry book also disappointed him be-
cause of what he perceived as its “pobreza de processos” [poverty
24
According to Batista, Lopez, and Lima, this was an unpublished review. See
Brasil: Primeiro tempo modernista 225.
25
This review was published in A Noite. I am referring to the reprinted version
published in Brasil: Primeiro tempo modernista 238-39.
of processes]. Drummond affirms that Oswald’s attempt at spon-

taneity was not convincing: “Ele tenta uma crise de primitivismo,
porém não pode ficar burro de repente . . . nem esquecer o que
aprendeu nas Europas” (238). [He tries a crisis of primitivism, but
he cannot become stupid all of a sudden . . . or forget what he
learned in Europe.]. However, Drummond finishes the review on a
positive note, saying that the book was “delicious” and recom-
mending the “Poemas da colonização” (239). Drummond’s com-
ments are insightful, especially with regard to the feigned simplicity
and spontaneity of primitivism. This was one of the main points of
contention among Oswald’s readers at the time. On the other hand,
Drummond’s critique is a bit contradictory; even though he recog-
nizes that Oswald was somehow forging simplicity in order to un-
dermine traditional poetic diction, he still condemns the poetry for
its poverty of processes. This shows that Drummond’s concept of
poetry was still attached to some of the formal principles that Os-
wald was attempting to challenge.
Lastly, the review written by Tristão de Athayde (Alceu
Amoroso Lima) was perhaps the most condemnatory of all. In “Li-
teratura suicida” the critic sees Oswald’s project as essentially de-
structive because of the negative influences of both Dadaism and
Expressionism. He promotes a veritable campaign against Oswald’s
project: “Precisamos reagir contra essa literatura que, ainda mal
nasceu, já quer suicidar-se. Vimos bem, ao nos preocuparmos com
o dadaísmo e o expressionismo, . . . que eles não representam outra
coisa senão um desespero” (921) [We need to react against this lit-
erature that has barely been born, and already wants to commit sui-
cide. We saw well, by concerning ourselves with Dadaism and Ex-
pressionism . . . that they represent nothing but despair.]. Athayde
did not recognize any constructive aspect of Oswald’s primitive na-
tionalism. The critic also denies any sort of originality in the pro-
ject. To him, Oswald imitated the worst trends from Europe: “a Eu-
ropa do abismo” (924). [the “Europe of the abyss”].
It is remarkable that a book that conveys an overall affirmative
message of national pride could generate so much discord and hos-
tile criticism. Oswald managed to touch on some sensitive issues in
his poetry, but it is mostly the humor deployed throughout the
book that sparked anger and contempt among the intellectual pub-
lic. The project also caused a great deal of excitement. Prudente de
Morais Neto and Sérgio Buarque de Holanda are among Oswald’s
contemporaries who welcomed the Pau-Brasil project.26 The ultra-

nationalist Verdeamarelo movement, led by Menotti Del Picchia,
Cassiano Ricardo, and Plínio Salgado, was directly influenced by
the Pau-Brasil project. Most markedly, the poetry book received the
enthusiastic applause of Paulo Prado, which appears in “Poesia
pau-brasil,” his preface to the first edition of Oswald’s Pau Brasil:
A mais bela inspiração e a mais fecunda encontra a poesia “pau-

brasil” na afimação desse nacionalismo que deve romper os laços
que nos amarram desde o nascimento à velha Europa, decadente
e esgotada. Em nossa história já uma vez surgiu esse sentimento
agressivo, nos tempos turbados da revolução de 93, quando
“pau-brasil” era o jacobinismo dos Tiradentes de Floriano. Seja-
mos agora de novo, no cumprimento de uma missão étnica e pro-
tetora, jacobinamente brasileiros. Libertemo-nos das influências
nefastas das velhas civilizações em decadência. (59).
“Brazil-wood poetry” finds its most beautiful and fecund inspira-

tion in this nationalism that should break the ties that link us
from our birth to the old decaying and exhausted Europe. In our
history this aggressive feeling came about once before, at the
time of the anguished revolution of ‘93, when “Brazil-wood” was
[present in] the Jacobinism of Floriano’s Tiradentes. Let us now
be once more, in the fulfilling of our ethnic and protective mis-
sion, Jacobin-like Brazilians. Let us free ourselves from the dam-
aging influences of the old decaying [European] civilizations.
Prado’s remarks go against his own profile as an art collector whose

frequent trips to Europe denoted, at least in part, his own reverence
of the hegemony of European art.27 However, this contradiction in
Prado’s attitudes, already discussed, is something that becomes evi-
dent in most of the nationalistic manifestations of the modernist
movement, especially after primitivism is incorporated.
26
Prudente de Morais considers Pau-Brasil an important contribution to the
conversion of negative values into positive ones. Sérgio Buarque de Holanda also
recognizes the constructive and critical aspects of Oswald’s poetry. For a summary
of their review, see Boaventura “O projeto” 48, 51.
27
Sérgio Miceli argues that Paulo Prado and other rich foreign collectors
helped maintain the viability of modern art production in Paris. Miceli argues that
Prado’s importance as an art collector was such that artists such as Léger even
wrote dedications to Prado in an effort to please their client. See Miceli, Nacional
estrangeiro 12-13.
The most important aspect of Prado’s preface is that it repre-

sents more than an introduction to Oswald’s poetry. The preface is
both an endorsement and an appropriation of the poetic discourse
of Pau-Brasil. Prado’s reading privileges the nationalistic appeal of
the poems. Prado also recognizes the importance of the renovation
of the poetic discourse (51), but the author tends to portray the
book as a straightforward manifestation of an “ethnic and protec-
tive” impulse. It is obvious that this collection of poems presented a
broader scope and a much more complex discourse of national
identity. The language, the poetic tropes of parody, and the tech-
niques of collage and ellipsis that Oswald extensively deploys
throughout the book prevent it from being wholeheartedly affirma-
tive of that type of nationalism. Also, the irony that is commonly at-
tributed to these poems is sometimes recognizable in the very struc-
ture of the book. For instance, the section “História do Brasil”
contains the sub-section “O capuchinho Claude D’Abbeville,”
which is made up of three poems written in French (“A moda,”
“Cá e lá,” and “O país”). That the entire section is made up of frag-
ments from the earliest colonial documents and chronicles repre-
sents, as Haroldo de Campos explains, an example of the use of the
object trouvé in the composition of these poems, but also an ironic
perpective on nationalism (25). This section alone stands in opposi-
tion to the kind of defensive nationalism that Paulo Prado saw in
the book. But the fact that Oswald de Andrade, in a way, accepted
Prado’s appropriation and allowed the preface to frame his book of
poetry suggests that either the author did not see any problems
with Prado’s interpretation or that he did not care that this inter-
pretation would always somehow limit or reduce his book to the
narrower purpose of nationalistic propaganda.
Also, this series of poems in French undermines one of the cen-
tral claims of the entire Pau-Brasil project. If this cultural project
was aimed simply at freeing poetry from its conventions by elimi-
nating erudition, or, as Campos claims, by promoting a kind of
“aesthetic democratization” (22), this series of poems contradicts
this so-called democratizing impetus. The interpretation of this se-
ries of poems requires, at the very least, the reader’s competence in
French and an acquaintance with arcane documents of colonial
times. This slippery aspect of the poetic language of Pau-Brasil,
which on one level desacralizes the conventional language of poetry
and on the other restores an aura of erudition and impenetrability,
makes the interpretive process complicated. Those who most en-

thusiastically praise the poetic language of the book for its clarity,
austerity, logic, and spontaneity tend to do so in order to emphasize
the importance of ridding poetry of the alienating effects of erudite
inflection or of sentimentalism, but they rarely account for the den-
sity and intricacy of this apparently simplified poetic expression.
For many of the reasons previously outlined Pau-Brasil as a cul-
tural movement remained one of the most contentious propositions
of the early modernist movement. As mentioned before, most of the
criticism of Oswald’s poetry in the 1980s and ‘90s emphasized the
radicalism of Oswald’s poetic language. One of the exceptions to
this celebratory and formalist reception was Roberto Schwarz’s pre-
viously cited article. Schwarz focuses on the ideology and the sim-
plistic, yet effective, representation of Brazil as a backward paradise
that the book imparts. Pau-Brasil’s juxtaposition of the archaic and
the modern–its selection of “old-fashioned” materials combined
with the modern–in Schwarz’s view, “prefigures a post-bourgeois
humanity” (110). However, in spite of this anti-traditionalist per-
spective, the book is filled with poems in which “the operation of
modernity is entirely integrated into a schemata of traditional pat-
terns of authority” (114). Schwarz focuses on the section titled
“Postes da Light”, and the main poem that he analyzes is “Pobre
alimária.” From this poem, Schwarz extracted the perhaps unintend-
ed effects of Oswald’s poetic formula. The author concludes that, in
spite of Pau-Brasil’s enthusiasm for the radically democratic and an-
ti-traditionalist perspective opened up by modernization, many of
the scenes portrayed in these poems also preserve the archaic pow-
er relations: the traditional forms of authority. In other words, in
Schwarz’s reading, Oswald’s embrace of the archaic materials is
coupled with a similar move to preserve and perhaps justify hierar-
chical structures in Brazilian society.
Before Schwarz, Heitor Martins had published a study on Os-
wald de Andrade that also went against the generally celebratory
rescue of the author’s poetry and ideas. Martins contests the notion
that anthropophagy was a creation of the couple Oswald de An-
drade and Tarsila do Amaral by demonstration that notions of can-
nibalism had long been a feature of European avant-garde authors
(11-24). With regard to the Pau-Brasil project, Martins highlights
the connection between Oswald and Blaise Cendrars and the fact
that Pau-Brasil was published first in France by Cendrars publish-
ers. In general Martins considers Oswald’s work to be conceptually

poor, especially in the longer essays and his theses, although Mar-
tins recognizes that Oswald was “brilhante em alguns poucos mo-
mentos criadores, inventivos” (13). [brilliant in a few creative, in-
ventive moments.].
In what follows, I will provide an analysis of the poems of “São
Martinho” and of poems that refer to the Bandeirante ancestors
that incorporate some of Schwarz’s arguments, but with a focus on
the immanent aspects of the historical reconstruction operating in
these selected poems. In spite of the variety of attitudes, it is possi-
ble to identify a gaze that reflects the social position from which it
is cast.
PRESENCE AND IMMANENCE IN PAU-BRASIL
Haroldo de Campos relies on concepts such as “objective lyri-

cism” and “anti-illusionism” to emphasize the visual quality of Os-
wald’s poetry. Many poems in Pau-Brasil represent, in Campos’
view, the first instance of the ready-made procedure of the avant-
garde, which is a sign of an industrial dimension in Oswald’s poetry.
Campos argues that this ready-made aspect of Oswald’s poetry pre-
sents both constructive and destructive components with regard to
history and certain traditions. On the one hand, this poetry uses
parody as an ironic and deconstructive reference to history and tra-
dition. On the other hand, Pau-Brasil carries out a “critical devour-
ing,” that is, a critical assimilation of European aesthetic move-
ments, with an affirmation of history, and its constructive use in a
discourse of national identity (24–27).
As a whole, this description renders well the general procedures
utilized in Pau-Brasil, at least in the poems that dialogue with the
historical discourse. However, the relationship of the poetic dis-
course with the historical ready-mades encompasses a wider range
of attitudes. Besides critique, negation, and reconstruction, there is
also repetition, affirmation, and complacency with certain aspects
of the historical discourse. The poetry is predominantly visual.
There is a clear focus on things, objects, landscapes, actions, and
scenes. Oswald employs cinematographic techniques while working
with primitive motifs, as Campos points out (16). In terms of its
subject matter Oswald’s poetry privileges familiar images and
themes, juxtaposing paradoxical elements of present and past, the

modern and the archaic, movement and stagnation. However, al-
most as ubiquitous as the visual and material elements in this poetry
are the allusions to immanent features of these materials and land-
scapes. This other dimension in Oswald’s poetry adds depth to the
already complex relationship between history and the poetic dis-
course expressed in many of these poems. To be sure, the aspects
that I am focusing on here come from the visual and material com-
ponents of these poems, but they are not merely factual, descrip-
tive, or imagistic. On the contrary, these aspects relate to mysterious
causes or the manifestation of a spirit that influences the historical
events reconstructed in several poems. These aspects relate to myth,
which involve certain preconceived notions of historical develop-
ment. However, these the images, landscapes, and objects evoke al-
so the concrete, material, aspects of this history. The poetic voice
resorts to narration in order to supplement the visual or material as-
pects of the poems. Contrary to Campos’ claim that the poetic lan-
guage is anti-illusory and objective, in these moments the appropri-
ation of the historical discourse privileges the mysterious, illusive,
and unfathomable aspects beneath the visual and material.
The interplay between materiality and essence is central to the
poetry of Pau-Brasil. The commodity alluded to in the title of the
book is a reference to a material, but also to an immanent pres-
ence because the product was extracted and depleted even before
the systematic implementation of the colonial settlements. This
was an aspect that did not escape Manuel Bandeira’s criticism in
that previously cited review: “Em primeiro lugar esta história de
pau-brasil28 é blague. Quem na minha geração já viu o famoso
pau? Não há mais pau-brasil” (Andorinha 247) [In the first place
this story of pau-brasil is a joke. Who in my generation has seen
the famous wood? There is no more pau-brasil.]. Although Ban-
deira did not make a serious effort to understand the metaphor in
Oswald’s title, the point he made touches exactly on the aspect I
will analyze here. That is, there is an immanent dimension to the
material aspects described in the poetry that tends to be over-
looked in the analyses that focus on the visual materiality of Os-
wald’s discourse.
28
Here I am following the orthography of the original text. The word pau-
brasil is usually written in lower case when it is a reference to the commodity.
As Oswald explained, the export quality of this poetry book is

expressed in its very title. Brazil wood is a reference to the earliest
export product to come out of the territory that was to become the
selection of a raw material (Brazil wood) as an allegory of this poet-
ry emphasizes the historical economic role of exporter of raw mate-
rials that Brazil performed throughout its centuries of colonization.
As Oswald explained, he intended to invert the route of cultural ex-
changes between Brazil and Europe, placing Brazil in the position
of exporter of cultural goods. It is also implied in this statement
that being an exporter of culture was Brazil’s true vocation in the
context of modernity.
The predominant tone of the poetic discourse of the book is op-
timistic. The humor that Mário de Andrade and Tristão de Athayde
saw as a destructive element of this poetry is not always caustic or
destructive. Moreover, not all of the poems contain humor. Parody
is also present throughout the book, but there is quite a range of
parodic intent. Irony can also be attributed to various poems, but
the irony that I recognize in the poems analyzed here is not de-
ployed exclusively with a destructive intent either. This is, after all,
a collection of poems with a nationalist undertone. In general, the
poetic discourse attempts to reconcile past and present, archaic and
modern, high and low culture, and to provide an overall cheerful
view of post-colonial Brazil.
This optimism tends to appear, for instance, in the sections re-
lated to economic activities during colonial times and also in the
present. The “São Martinho” section, for instance, provides an af-
firmative outlook on the economy, especially with regard to the ex-
port economy. São Martinho is the name of one of the Prados’
largest coffee farms, and it is where Blaise Cendrars stayed.29 In Os-
wald’s “Prosperidade,” the farm appears as one of the sources of
the “silent gold” (coffee) and at the same time linked to the mythi-
cal past of the ancestral forefathers of this lineage of conquerors
represented now by the Prados. In spite of its radical concision, its
focus on pure presence, and its emphasis on visual elements, Os-
wald selects as his object trouvé a simplified historical narrative.
This narrative is built on key economic developments. In chrono-
29
Cendrars stayed in the São Martinho farm during his first visit to Brazil in
1924 and on subsequent visits. See Roig, “La fazenda São Martinho” 60–61; Eulálio
30.
logical order, these developments are the gold mining of the 1700s,
the coffee monoculture, which started in the mid-1800s, and mod-
ernization. These economic developments are mixed with mythic
and metaphysical elements that add symbolic meaning to them.
There is a totalizing drive that informs the selection of the key
historical developments that appear in this poem. The text dia-
logues with a foundational narrative that emphasizes notions of ori-
gins, genealogy and the immanent presence of colonial times in the
present. Thus, the poem itself constitutes at least an outline of an
epic narrative. Even though the poem contains a skeletal and frag-
mented sequence of events, the discourse strives to encompass a
wide scope of experiences and symbols of both modernity and pre-
modern practices. An epic narrative of heroic deeds of the past
frames the rather mundane events depicted in the poem. In this re-
spect the poems in the “São Martinho” section of Pau-Brasil resem-
ble the scenes in Mário de Andrade’s “Noturno de Belo Hori-
zonte.” In spite of the use of laconic, descriptive, and apparently
anti-illusory language, this is far from a merely descriptive poem. In
“Prosperidade,” the traditional discourse of history is invoked in
the descriptions of spectacular economic developments in Brazil
but also of the simplest everyday events on a coffee farm:
O café é o ouro silencioso

De que a geada orvalhada
Arma torrefações ao sol
Eis-nos chegados à grande terra
Dos cruzados agrícolas
Que no tempo de Fernão Dias
E da escravidão
Plantaram fazendas como sementes
E fizeram filhos nas senhoras e nas escravas
Eis-nos diante dos campos atávicos
Cheios de galos e de reses
Com porteiras e trilhos
Usinas e igrejas
Caçadas e frigoríficos
Eleições tribunais e colônias (98)
Coffee is the silent gold

Of which the frosty dew
Arms [coffee] roasting in the sun
Here we are arrived at the great land

Of the agrarian crusades
Who at the time of Fernão Dias
And of slavery
Planted farms as seeds
And made children in their mistresses and in their slaves
Here we are before the atavistic fields
Full of roosters and cows
With wooden gates30 and railway tracks
With mills and churches
Hunting and refrigerating chambers31
Tribunal elections and colonies
In this particular poem there is less of the humor and irony that
mark most of the book. There are references to events that took
place over the course of about three hundred years. The expedi-
tions and the finding of gold, the coffee enterprise, and some signs
of modernization appear in the first verses to be vaguely connected.
The historical aspects of this landscape are first depicted as a sepa-
rate set of events, as these are marked by a precise temporal refer-
ence (“At the time of Fernão Dias/And of slavery”) and a short de-
scription of the foundational acts of the ancestors. However, there
is a clear impetus to explain something about this farm that is not
evident at first sight: something that does not lend itself to a mere
description. These are both historical and immanent aspects that
connect the ancestral spirit to the present. Immediately after the
short narration, the elements described start to break with the se-
quential list of actions to establish a temporality of simultaneity in
which past and present merge. This is exactly the point where the
image of the fields is supplemented by the adjective “atavistic,”
which relates to a much more vague and mysterious relationship be-
tween the present and the short sequence of events narrated.
This is the moment in which the poetic discourse resorts to an
explanation based both on narration and on a preconceived notion
30
In this case, the word porteira could be both a barrier at the railroad crossing
or a low, wooden farm gate. Since the end of this poem seems to be composed of
contrasting images of the modern with the archaic, I think the reference here is to
the low, wooden farm gate.
31
Here the activity of hunting symbolizes the archaic mode of gathering food,
and the refrigerating chambers are the modern places where the meat is stored and
preserved (usually for commercial purposes).
of causality that defies logic. To use Homi Bhabha’s terminology,

the inflection of the poetic voice here is “pedagogical” and the
scene acquires a momentous quality.32 These images may have been
taken from the observation of some present event, but they are con-
nected to a previously established view of the historical moments
evoked. These events conform to a grand narrative of cumulative
key developments in the nation’s economic and social history. The
routine activities (the roasting of coffee beans) and familiar images
(coffee fields, churches, and wooden gates) acquire a deeper signifi-
cation as they are described through a “historical” and mythologi-
cal perspective. The pedagogical aspect of the poem works as a
two-way street. That is, the images and activities being described in
the present are explained by the references to a pre-existing narra-
tive. At the same time these images and activities represent a “pros-
perous” present that explains and justifies the actions of the past
and the deeds of the paulista predecessors.
In the first verse coffee is associated with gold. The word
“gold” here is used not only as a metaphor for the value of coffee,
but also as a way to provide a link between the gold extraction in
Minas Gerais in the 1700s and the subsequent economic boom: the
coffee business in São Paulo. This link between gold and coffee, or
Minas Gerais and São Paulo, is established more clearly with the al-
lusion to the Bandeirantes.33 The evocation of the mythical ancestor
also serves the purpose of reinforcing the imaginary genealogy of
the coffee aristocracy. The heroic role of these founding fathers of
the culturally rich Brazilian countryside is emphasized in the poem.
The language register in the poem shifts dramatically from one line
to the next. The reverential, perhaps parodic, inflection under-
scored by the use of an archaic and formal language (“Ei-nos chega-
dos”) refers to the land and to the heroic deeds of the conquista-
32
Bhabha argues that performative texts disrupt the chain of signification of
the pedagogical ones. The pedagogical discourse is built upon a narrative of “the
people as homogeneous” (212). The performative discourse emphasizes the “dis-
continuous and the heterogeneous histories of contending peoples” (212). For more
on the concepts of pedagogical and performative discourses, see Bhabha, “Dissemi-
nation.” The Location of Culture 199-244.
33
As I stated in chapters four and five, the stories of the São Paulo Bandeirantes
are foundational narratives that work for both São Paulo and Minas Gerais. For
more on these mythical narratives and for an analysis of the way the São Paulo set-
tlers forge an identity for the people of Minas Gerais as derivative of the paulistas,
see Francisco Eduardo Andrade A invenção das Minas Gerais 16.
dors. On the other hand, a lower register is employed in the blunt

references to procreation and to the development of the country-
side.
The references to the “atavistic fields” clearly underscore no-
tions of continuity, latency, and immanence. The atavistic organism
usually has the characteristics of a more “primitive” type. As I ex-
plained in chapter four, this phenomenon, which is also described
as a “throwback,” is central to Paulo Prado’s argumentation with
regard to the mamaluco/Bandeirante superiority. Thus, the land-
scape described in this manner is thrown back; it is viewed as
scenery that remains connected with the temporality of colonial
times. The atavistic trait that the poet sees in these fields suggests
that the concept of history deployed here is cyclical. This cyclical
concept of historical development is also emphasized through the
reference to Fernão Dias, one of the most revered of the São Paulo
settlers, who clearly appears here as a precursor of the modern-day
coffee aristocrat.34 Therefore, not only is this land the same land
that was the route of the expeditions, but the coffee aristocrat
could also be seen as an atavist individual who presents characteris-
tics of his or her primordial ancestors.
The “great land” that serves as the stage for this scene produces
coffee in the present, but the emphasis is placed on telluric aspects
that link this land to its remote past. In that immemorial past the
land was the site of the “cruzados agrícolas,” contemporaries of the
Bandeirantes. They were the ones who established farms, which
prosper and generate life and growth (“like seeds”) for the future.
This future is exactly what is being described in the images of the
present in the poem. The poem also asserts that the settlers “made
children” in both their spouses (senhoras) and in the enslaved
women who worked in these farms. Once more, the word choice
here emphasizes action, determination, and courage, but there is al-
so a measure of violence and aggression. Instead of emphasizing the
union between men and women during colonial times, Oswald uses
the expression “fazer filhos,” which is both vulgar and demeaning
34
In the current spelling, Fernão Dias Pais was, according to Paulo Prado, the
quintessential Bandeirante character. Prado greatly admired this historical figure,
and one of the essays included in Paulística is about Fernão Dias. See Prado, “Fer-
não Dias Paes.” Paulística 175–96. For more on Fernão Dias Pais’ biography, see
Franco 282.
to the women involved. This expression also connotes acts of viola-

tion and conquest instead of amorous encounters or matrimonial
relations. Emphasis is placed on the act of populating the country-
side, which is done with bravery but also with force. But it is exact-
ly this force that gives it legitimacy in the present. The present-day
coffee entrepreneurs are almost reincarnations of their conquista-
dor predecessors.
However, what makes this discourse somewhat complacent with
this violent history is the fact that the historical discourse in the po-
em is not entirely rejected and reformulated critically, as Campos
argues (24–27). If this were the case, something other than a brief
list of conquering actions would have to be articulated. Even
though the evocation of this past is done in a detached and frag-
mented way, there is nothing expressed in the poem that establishes
an oppositional or destructive relationship with the historical and
mythical aspects of the past. In fact, the references to atavism sug-
gest that this history could repeat itself indefinitely in a cyclical pro-
gression. In this poem the conquering and procreating actions of
the male ancestors are conceived of as the basis of a nation being
built and transformed. The appropriation of the past may not be
overtly celebratory of that history, but it glorifies the present. This
present, the mid-1920s, is depicted as a high point in history. The
fact that the poem is meant as a tribute to the Prado’s São Martinho
property denotes that this is an affirmative stance on the historical
and mythological background reconstructed in the poem. The dis-
course traces a sketchy genealogy based on the notion of atavism. It
is a telegraphic epic built upon the accumulation of grand historical
developments. Despite the use of a fragmented language, this total-
izing drive remains as the impetus behind this discourse.
This is not to say that there is no critical distancing in the poem.
There is a fine irony that can be attributed to these descriptions and
to the short narrative within the poem. By describing the historical
events that took place so that this magnificent farm could become a
reality, the poem also partially reveals the hypocrisy of the very his-
torical discourse that is being reworked, updated, and partially re-
peated. There is ambiguity in the affirmation of prosperity because
the poem also depicts some of the problems faced by coffee pro-
ducers such as the frost (geadas) that damages the coffee. Also, the
various references to premodern practices and objects contrast with
the theme of prosperity. This prosperity is relative since what is de-
scribed is partially damaged, and there is a certain rudimentary

character to the activities and materials that compose this scene.
However, this archaic side of the farm and its main economic activi-
ty are an essential aspect of the primitivism that prevails throughout
the entire book. In spite of these ambiguities the ethos of the piece
cannot be said to be simply destructive of the historical discourse
with which it dialogues. The discourse that emerges from this ap-
propriation of the past may have an element of surprise and inven-
tion to it, but it also reaffirms the past and does not clearly prefig-
ure a radically distinct future.
In the last five verses of the poem a series of contrasting images
evokes disparate temporalities, but they seem to supplement each
other when placed in nominal groups. That is, even though there is
a gap of centuries between the “wooden gates” and the “railway
tracks,” these elements are placed side by side with no hierarchical
or temporal separation. There is also simultaneity of the modern
and the archaic in the images of “churches” and “mills;” “hunting”
and “refrigerating chambers;” and between the “tribunal elections”
and the “colonies.”35 These antithetical images and signs emphasize
the paradoxes of Brazilian modernity and appear throughout the
book. These poles do not appear to be in a relationship of antago-
nism (thesis and antithesis), which would generate a synthesis that
is distinct from either pole. Both the modern and the archaic ap-
pear simultaneously. The relationship between these poles appears
to be paradoxical and non-dialectical. The modern does not com-
pletely displace the archaic and the archaic does not entirely resist
the modern. These poles coexist and form a sort of totality that pre-
serves both the archaic and the modern, which constitutes the origi-
nality of modernity in Brazil.
Even though these polarities seem to harmonize in the poem, it
is possible to see the tension that rests beneath them. In this way,
tradition and the first signs of modernity (still in its rudimentary
state) are ideally reconciled as part of the same basic principle of
35
In this case, the term “colony” was translated in Schwarz’s essay as “settlers.”
It could also be a reference to the colonato system that prevailed in the coffee plan-
tations in Brazil after slavery was abolished. The colonato system was an arrange-
ment in which workers, mostly immigrants, lived within the farm and paid for their
houses and subsistence with their work. These workers were also called colonos.
For an extensive description and analysis of the colonato system on the coffee farms
during the coffee boom, see Stein, Vassouras 250–90.
permanence. Therefore, the conservative modernization depicted in

the poem reveals, but also preserves, a system of deep-seated preju-
dices, inequality, and oppression. Modernity, in this scheme, ap-
pears as just another cycle in which this primordial spirit of con-
quest flares up from time to time.
Also, the very notion of property associated with material pros-
perity is never completely rejected in the poems of “São Martinho.”
The praise of the notion of property appears more clearly in the fol-
lowing poem, “Paisagem.” This short sequel to “Prosperidade” re-
inforces the idea that coffee provides the foundation for a stable
present and luminous economic future. Here it is also possible to
establish a connection between Oswald de Andrade’s and Blaise
Cendrars’ views of modern Brazil. They share an unabashed enthu-
siasm for the coffee monoculture. Both Cendrars and Oswald seem
to find more meaning in this enterprise than the mere economic
and possible political benefits that it brought to the nation:
O cafezal é um mar alinhavado

Na aflição humorística dos passarinhos
Nuvens constroem cidades nos horizontes dos carreadores
E o fazendeiro olha os seus 800.000 pés coroados (91–92)
The coffee field is a sea with lines

In the humorous agitation of the little birds
Clouds build cities in the horizon [between] the aisles
And the farmer gazes at his 800.000 crowned trees
A connection is made between the prosperity generated by the cof-

fee enterprise and the modernization suggested by the image of
cities in the background. The setting is composed of the “atavistic
fields” of coffee, where the farmer observes his extensive planta-
tion. In the meantime, the background shows cities that are built in
the horizon. This horizon, which can be contemplated through the
aisles of coffee trees, may represent the future. The cities are being
built by clouds and under the humorous agitation of the birds. This
enigmatic couplet suggests movement, instability, and the ephemer-
al as elements that surround the building of the cities. Also, the
horizon in which the image of cities appears represents the back-
ground in this picture. The main subject, which opens and closes
the poem, is the coffee monoculture. The vast “sea” of coffee trees
occupies most of the picture, and it is this image that inspires stabil-
ity. The final verse shows the farmer’s contemplative look at his
eight hundred thousand coffee trees. This image suggests a ritual
celebration of prosperity. While the “farmer” gazes at the fruits of
his prosperous enterprise, buildings are erected in the background.
The hierarchy established between the vast coffee fields in the fore-
ground and the buildings in the background suggests that the cities
and the buildings are the result of the economic expansion instigat-
ed by the coffee business. Even if that is reading too much into this
scene, the arrangement of the two main visual components of the
landscape clearly privileges the coffee fields and the farmer as sym-
bols of economic force.
These trees are represented as being “crowned,” which indi-
cates that they are flourishing with coffee beans. They are, in this
way, symbols of fertility and nobility. Coffee provides the basis for
the economic transformation that can be witnessed in the frenzied
construction of cities. The plantation is not represented as a means
for Brazil to transition from a predominantly agrarian nation to an
industrialized one. It is represented as something that will stay as a
solid economic foundation. The “farmer,” in this case the coffee
aristocrat, is pictured as the true founding father of a modernizing
nation. The narrative that structures this short poem bears a strik-
ing resemblance to Blaise Cendrars’ opening paragraphs of “The
Metaphysics of Coffee:”
Roads, canals, railways, ports, warehouses, stations, factories,

high tension electric lines, waterways, bridges, tunnels, all these
lines and curves that dominate the contemporary landscape, im-
pose their grandiose geometry. But the most powerful agent of
transformation is without contest monoculture... Monoculture
tends to transform, if not the entire planet, then at least each
zone of the planet. (Noland 407)36
These two poets, who were working very closely elaborate on this
concept of the primacy of the coffee monoculture as a kind of ma-
trix to all that is modern and transformative on the entire planet.
Even though traditional coffee monoculture is associated with
agrarian economies and societies, the large-scale monoculture of
this product is a modern phenomenon. However, what Cendrars
36
I am quoting the translation of the French original by Noland.
and Oswald propose is that this monoculture system is the very

foundation–the material, spiritual, conceptual, and systemic ma-
trix–of modernity. In fact, the concept of history that informs Os-
wald’s verses and Cendrars’ essay does not contradict Paulo Prado’s
own arguments in essays like “O martyrio do café” and other writ-
ings compiled in Paulística. Other texts that refer to Prado as a
benefactor also tend to refer to coffee as the template of modernity
in Brazil and to the Prados as the quintessential entrepreneur clan.
For example, Geraldo Ferraz, in his 1962 preface to Prado’s Retrato
do Brasil, states that:
Devemos tudo ao café, nos últimos cem anos. Paulo Prado pro-
vém dessa área econômica que ligava a terra roxa ao porto de
Santos. Do obscuro destino da província nas primeiras décadas
do século, é o café, em seu itinerário pelo Norte do Estado, va-
rando o sertão para a terra interior, que renova o bandeirismo
noutra escala. . . São contemporâneas, para os Prado, a Compa-
nhia Paulista de Imigração (antes da abolição), e a Companhia
Prado Chaves Exportadora. Importação de braço livre, exporta-
ção de café. (XI) (Emphasis added)
We owe everything to coffee in the last one hundred years. Paulo

Prado comes from this economic area that linked the terra roxa
to the Port of Santos. Since the obscure destiny [sic] of the
province [of São Paulo] in the first decades of the century, it is
coffee, in its itinerary through the North of the State, crossing
the backlands to reach the countryside, that renews bandeirismo
in a different scale, . . . To the Prados, the Companhia Paulista de
Imigração (before the abolition of slavery), and the Companhia
Prado Chaves Exportadora are contemporaneous. Free labor im-
port, coffee export.
This introduction goes along the same lines of Oswald’s portrayal of

Paulo Prado and Cendrars’ praise for the coffee monoculture.
Therefore, Geraldo Ferraz, Oswald de Andrade, and Blaise Cen-
drars portray Paulo Prado and the Prado family as pioneers, as true
and legitimate descendants of the Bandeirantes, and as founders of
modern Brazil. All of these authors make exactly the same associa-
tion between the coffee business and the São Paulo spirit of ban-
deirismo. The same impetus that spurred the occupation of the
countryside, the gold rush in Minas Gerais, and the coffee business
is also the force that moves the country into the modernized future.
These authors also display the same enthusiasm for the export
economy. Ferraz presents an unproblematic view of the import of
free labor, which was essential for the coffee business. The substitu-
tion of slave labor for immigrant labor was a lucrative business for
the Prados, but it was obviously not as beneficial for the immigrant
peasants themselves.
In contrast to the economic richness of the coffee field land-
scapes in the initial poems, in the middle of the “São Martinho”
section there are poems that focus on the not so prosperous side
of the coffee business. The archaic element is prominent in the
poems that deal with issues of the peasant folk. This is clear in
the poem “Escola rural.” The school is empty and the education-
al system that sustains it appears to be obsolete. It is a place
where the desks are made for the “barefooted midgets.” The
word choice here reveals, at best, a condescending attitude to-
ward the poor pupils that would attend this school. Perhaps the
poet intended it to be light-hearted or funny. However, judging
by today’s standards, it would be clearly offensive and derogatory
to refer to the peasants’ children as “barefooted midgets.” Most
of the descriptions of the children and the place focus exclusively
on their disadvantages (i.e. the fact that the children are small in
size and poorly dressed). That is, these children are portrayed as
if they are stunted in growth. The desolation of the scene depict-
ed through the rest of the poem only reinforces the negative as-
pects of this humble institution:
As carteiras são feitas para anõezinhos

De pé no chão
Há uma pedra negra
Com sílabas escritas a giz
A professora está de licença
E monta guarda a um canto numa vara
A bandeira alvi-negra de São Paulo
Enrolada no Brasil (99)
The desks are made for midgets

With their feet on the floor
There is a black stone
With syllables written with chalk
The teacher is on leave

And in one corner stands in a stick37
The black and white flag of São Paulo
Wrapped around Brazil
The school is empty because the teacher is on leave, which indicates

that this is a modern-day school located in the farm. The fact that
the teacher is on leave also implies that the modernization of the
educational system, including labor regulations that grant the
teacher the right to take a leave of absence, is one of the reasons for
the abandonment, emptiness, and ultimately the precariousness of
this school. However, in the last three lines of the poem appear
symbols of authority, such as the São Paulo flag, which evoke no-
tions of discipline, pride, and reverence to higher authorities. The
presence of the flag also denotes permanence and continuity with
an established order.
This school, set in a rural area, certainly represents hope for
change, transformation, and emancipation for the peasants’ chil-
dren. Oswald’s opposing binary, “the school and the forest,” which
appears in the manifesto, seems to be partly evoked in this poem.
Through the affirmation of both nature and education the poetic
voice proposed both conservation and progress. However, that is
not the case with this particular depiction of a school. Everything
here evokes abandonment and obsolescence. Instead of words on
the board, there are only syllables written on a black stone. Instead
of comfortable desks for the children, there are desks for the “bare-
footed midgets.” In one corner of the room, standing guard in this
desolate site, there is a black and white flag of São Paulo. It is al-
most as if the flag is making sure that the school continues to oper-
ate in these precarious conditions. As a way to defamiliarize the fa-
miliar, Oswald chooses the term vara, instead of mastro or haste,
which would be the standard Portuguese words for a flagpole. The
word vara (stick) is suggestive of an instrument of punishment and
torture that was commonly used on slaves in colonial times. The
stick is also a phallic symbol, which is allusive to notions of power
and domination. In this stick, the flag of São Paulo is not wrapped
around another, or standing side by side with the Brazilian flag as
would be expected. It is wrapped around “Brazil.”
37
The appropriate word would be flag pole, but the word vara in Portuguese is
more closely related to stick.
Through the use of an ellipsis Oswald eliminates the word

“flag” to achieve yet another defamiliarizing effect. In the last verse
the flag of São Paulo with the image of it wrapped around Brazil
leaves no doubt that this is less a poem about a humble school than
it is a statement about the dominance of São Paulo within the fed-
eration. It is, nonetheless, an ambiguous affirmation of power, since
there is not much to be proud of in this particular scene. The
school stands alone as an object–as “pure presence.” And in its ma-
teriality this school confers power to the owner of the farm. By hav-
ing a school within the limits of the farm, this farmer appears as a
benefactor. Even though this school is not functioning at its full po-
tential, the simple fact that there is a school on a coffee farm de-
notes a certain degree of pioneering entrepreneurship and vision
for the future. The image of the flag of São Paulo that appears
“Wrapped around Brazil” also reinforces my argument that these
poems should be read not simply as descriptive of the materiality of
the landscape, and much less as objective depictions of that reality.
The visual aspects of the scene are altered by the allusion to an al-
most surreal image. That is, the materiality of the scene evokes the
immanent dimension, intrinsic in its relation to the history behind
the precariousness of the school along with significance of power
and domination, which remains unspoken but clearly articulated in
its visual representation of the flag enveloping the entire national
territory. The poem thus clearly asserts the hegemony and the pio-
neer position of São Paulo in Brazil. It may be that the images in
this poem and other poems of the “São Martinho” section bring
out an element of surprise in the familiar landscape, but it is also
true that these images also conform to a pre-established view of the
role of São Paulo in the Brazilian federation. Similar preconceived
notions of paulista superiority appear in other poems in the book
that rework the theme of bandeirismo.
ANCESTRY REVISITED: OTHER INSTANCES OF BANDEIRISMO
This paulista pride, which is an aspect present in the works of

most of the modernists from São Paulo, can acquire multiple mean-
ings. Bandeirismo and nationalism can be complementary, but there
is always a hint of imperialism in the various forms this trope is de-
ployed. As I analyzed in chapter five, Mário de Andrade’s attempt
to reconcile local pride with national pride by articulating the myth

in his depiction of the state of Minas Gerais’ countryside in “No-
turno” ended up offending Tristão de Athayde’s sensibilities. Os-
wald also articulates the myth in an ambivalent manner. In several
poems in Pau-Brasil the allusions to the mythical ancestors express
a drive to integrate the nation, but also to distinguish the paulista
character from the rest of the country. This divisive feature of the
myth can be articulated for separatist purposes, and it was by as-
serting this same myth that Paulo Prado attempted to incite the São
Paulo aristocracy against Vargas’ Aliança Liberal.
One of the premises of the “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil” is
the embrace of “toda a história bandeirante e a história comercial
do Brasil” (41)38 [all of the bandeirante history and the commercial
history of Brazil]. Oswald’s appropriations of the myth of bandeiris-
mo do not present the aspect of racial superiority that Prado ex-
pressed in his essays. His allusions to the myth privileged ambition
as a driving force behind the actions of the paulistas in the past and
in the present. In Pau-Brasil Oswald does not use the Bandeirante
trope as a core value to confront the attitude of immigrants, as
Mário does in Paulicéia. In Pau-Brasil the presence of the urban im-
migrant is certainly not an important topic. However, the Ban-
deirante figure does stand as a non-bourgeois type of entrepreneur,
and this is an important value reinforced in some of the poems.
While Mário’s “Noturno” depicted the actions of the forerunners
as the foundation of an exuberant artistic and cultural patrimony,
Oswald tends to associate the myth with material and economic
progress. In the section “Roteiro de Minas” this cultural patrimony
is also revered, but with less exuberance. In the poem “Sabará,”
episodes of the Bandeirante saga take precedence over the descrip-
tion of the landscape:
Este córrego há trezentos anos

Que atrai os faiscadores
……………………………..
Outrora havia negros a cada metro de margem
Para virar o rio metálico
Que ia no dorso dos burros
……………………………..
38
I am using the version of the manifesto reprinted in the volume A utopia
antropofágica 41-45.
Borba Gato
Os paulistas traídos
Sacrilégios
O vento (134)
This stream for three hundred years

Has been attracting explorers
…………………………………
In the past there were blacks in each meter of the margin
To turn up the metallic river
That went in the back of donkeys
…………………………………
Borba Gato
The paulistas betrayed
Sacrileges
The wind
The river that opens the poem is not merely part of the physical
landscape but is also a historical site connected to the gold
prospecting activities established in Minas Gerais by the paulistas.
The first verse of the poem already alludes to a pre-existing narra-
tive. The importance of this landscape is that it brings back memo-
ries of a time in which the drive and ambition to explore new fron-
tiers and to find riches mobilized multitudes of people. There is
pride in the depiction of this epic enterprise led by the paulistas.
The collective force of the black men working toward the same am-
bitious goal is capable of transforming and dominating nature, as
the river was turned up and donkeys carried the gold. Thus, the
first part of the poem builds a short epic narrative that composes,
along with the other poems in this section, a mosaic of scenes that
represent the founding of the nation.
The last verses make explicit references to Manuel de Borba
Gato, a name associated with the foundation of Sabará, and one of
the best known of the Borba Gatos.39 According to Francisco de
Assis Franco, he was an extraordinary explorer and administrator
who lived in Minas Gerais from the mid-1600s to 1718. Borba Gato
was married to Maria Leite, daughter of Fernão Dias Pais, then
39
There are many Borba Gatos in the history of the expeditions, the entradas,
bandeiras and monções. Francisco Franco lists five of them, including Antônio, Bal-
tazar, Francisco, João, and Manuel de Borba Gato. See Franco 181-82.
Governor of Esmeraldas. The incident of the “betrayal” of the

paulistas alluded to in the poem refers to a murder committed by
Manuel de Borba Gato. In 1681, upon the death of the Governor,
the administrator D. Rodrigo de Castelo Branco came to Minas.
Borba Gato had some disagreement with this administrator. Castelo
Branco was ambushed and killed by Borba Gato in 1682 (Franco
182). Thus, according to this version, Borba Gato is the one who
betrays the paulistas.
The poem ends with a reference to this violent event, which
seems to signify the end of an era. Therefore, this is a poem in
which the historical past is reconstituted both in its glory and its
tragic fate. The ready-made historical discourse is reworked in a se-
rious manner. The end can be read as a critique of that history, but
this tragic fate does not completely eliminate the valor of the enter-
prise. This is a dense poem with references to remote events in the
history of the Bandeirantes, and this presupposes a great deal of
knowledge from the reader. Against the argument that the poetic
language in Pau-Brasil is clear, objective, simple, and democratic,
this poem, like many others in the sections “Roteiro de Minas” and
“Poemas da colonização,” is an obscure riddle. The historical
events reassembled in an elliptical language retain nonetheless a
trace of heroism and a sense of tragedy.
Another poem that makes reference to an important Ban-
deirante appears in the “Poemas da colonização” section. “Fernão
Dias Paes” can be read as a parodic reference to a letter sent by the
famous settler. It tells a story of adventure, courage, and economic
developments:
Partirei
com quarenta homens brancos afora eu
E meu filho
…………………………………
Vossa Senhoria
Deve considerar que este descobrimento
É o de maior consideração
Em rasam do muyto rendimento
E também esmeraldas (78)
I will depart
with forty white men besides me
and my son
…………………………………
Your Highness
Should consider that this discovery
Is of the highest importance
Because of the high yields
And also emeralds
This is a clear example of the use of a historical ready-made, which

is an anti-art procedure deployed to desacralize traditional poetic
expression. The main target of its criticism is the status of poetry. In
spite of the parodic reproduction of the historical document, there
is no disrespect, no mockery of the subject in the poem. The dis-
course of the poem maintains critical distance but it is not a com-
plete rejection of the historical discourse. There is a drive to record,
to reproduce part of the original text in order to emphasize the im-
portance of the undertaking. This is a key moment in national his-
tory. Fernão Dias’ voice is recast in a fragment that reveals his
courage and vision as someone who knows the importance of his
own undertaking in advance and tries to communicate this to his
superior. There is emphasis on the heroism of this leader, who
brings his son along on a dangerous expedition. Discovery is at the
heart of this undertaking, which will bring profits and emeralds as a
bonus. The fact that Fernão Dias’ discourse makes reference to the
forty white men that accompany him also adds a racial component
to this expedition that might be an indirect reference to the fact
that part of the profits associated with this undertaking was not re-
lated to the possible finding of emeralds. It is well known that an
important component of these expeditions was the enslavement of
indigenous peoples.40 However, there is not enough in the poem to
confirm this hypothesis. This is an example of a poem in which the
object trouvé and the use of parody partly preserve the historical
discourse. In spite of the somewhat playful tone, the figure of Fer-
não Dias Pais retains its integrity and all the other qualities usually
associated with the Bandeirantes.
While the poems that reconstruct scenes of the colonization re-
fer directly to the heroic paulista ancestors, the modern incarnation
of the Bandeirante spirit appears in the very title of the poem “Ideal
40
As Paulo Prado explained: “Quando se dissipava a miragem da mina ficava
como consolo o índio escravizado” (Retrato do Brasil 55) [When the mirage of the
mine disappeared, there remained the solace of [having] the enslaved indian.].
bandeirante.” This poem appears in the “Postes da Light” section.

Here the word bandeirante is a qualifier. It seems that the target of
this ironic poem is the middle class. The determination and vision
that usually frame the epic narratives of these ancestors are reduced
to false dreams of material well-being:
Tome este automóvel

E vá ver o Jardim New-Garden
Depois volte à Rua da Boa Vista
Compre o seu lote
Registre sua escritura
Boa firme e valiosa
E more nesse bairro romântico
Equivalente ao célebre
Bois de Boulogne
Prestações mensais
Sem juros (121)
Take this automobile

And go see the New-Garden neighborhood
Then come back to Boa Vista Street
Buy your lot
Register your title
Good firm and valuable
And live in this romantic neighborhood
Equivalent to the famous
Bois de Boulogne
Monthly installments
With no interest
The ideal that is being pursued here could be associated with pure
and simple bourgeois values of consumption and of property. In
Pau-Brasil material progress is an important value associated with
the ambition of the paulista ancestors, as is the case in poems like
“Prosperidade” and “Fernão Dias Paes.” In this poem, the modern
descendant retains some of that ambition, but the dream of pros-
perity has been appropriated by the capitalist system.
The poem is written in the language of advertisement with a
multitude of commands and the false promise of happiness. The
property advertised is located in a neighborhood “equivalent” to
the Parisian landmark (Bois de Bologne). The “New Garden” is a
place with no history that is being sold for its potential to replicate
the experience of living in a historical site. This is a typical advertis-

ing gimmick to lure the consumer. Another utopia turned into false
advertisement is the promise of monthly installments with no inter-
est. At first sight this last verse seems to resist the very logic of capi-
talist society in favor of the ideal of a fair commercial transaction.
However, the discourse reveals the hypocrisy of capitalism by em-
phasizing the way in which the logic of profit disguises itself under
a false utopia. The poem is not so much a critique of the notion of
property as it is a critique of the middle-class mentality. It is an
ironic take on the anxiety of the urban middle class and it is also an
ironic activation of the myth of the Bandeirantes. The utopian
dream of the ancestors has been turned into a commercial ploy to
entice the middle class, since the grandiose actions of the Ban-
deirantes are reduced in the poem as an ideal of pure consumerism
and the commercialization of false dreams of prosperity. Therefore,
this poem partially undermines the myth and partly preserves it,
since the spirit is still alive but in a diluted form.
The analysis of the poems whose theme is related to the Ban-
deirante myth shows that there is a wide range of ironic and parodic
ethos in the activation of historical discourse in Pau-Brasil. There-
fore, the interpretation of those who could only see mockery and
destruction in the humor and irony deployed in the book is ex-
tremely narrow. On the other hand, those who only see this irony as
a defiant and critical reconstruction of history also tend to reduce
and simplify the multiplicity of meanings of these poems. In the po-
ems of the “São Martinho” section, the emphasis on aspects of
modernity that are irrevocably intertwined with the archaic clearly
reinforces aspects of continuity with the past. It does not open
many possibilities for deep social or cultural change. In spite of the
author’s desire to break the hierarchies of the poetic discourse, the
very notion of permanence and immutability of the landscapes and
scenes depicted in this poetry do not inspire radical transformations
for a democratic future. The anachronisms and inequalities that Os-
wald detects in the process of modernization in Brazil are, as
Schwarz points out, still quite common: “it is still impossible to step
outside your front door without coming across them” (110). How-
ever, these opposing features appear as novelties of Brazilian
modernity. In other words, it seems as if this discourse prefigures a
modern utopia that will always carry the burden of the past, pre-
serving the archaic as part of its essence.
In the poems that relate to the Bandeirante ancestors there is al-

so repetition, and the tone can be at once reverential and ironic.
“Ideal bandeirante” is the most caustic of all, but it is a critique of
bourgeois society in the present. There is criticism and distancing in
reference to the history of the Bandeirantes, but the values of hero-
ism, courage, and visionary passion are often preserved. Most im-
portantly, the language that is used denotes knowledge and a pro-
found respect for this aspect of history. This language also implies
or demands the reader’s familiarity with the historical discourse, es-
pecially with the chronicles of the bandeiras. Neither the language
nor the historical themes explored in this book of poetry can be
said to be simple, direct, spontaneous, logical, or objective. If it is
true that Pau-Brasil promotes a democratization of the poetic lan-
guage, it is also evident that the density and the fragmented, ironic,
and elliptical aesthetics of this poetic discourse make it highly so-
phisticated and elitist. Also, with regard to the argument of spon-
taneity and invention that Pau-Brasil supposedly embraces, it is
clear that the historical discourse with which this poetry intimately
dialogues is something very carefully chosen and reworked. The ef-
fect of spontaneity is pursued, but often a preconceived view of this
history lies beneath this apparently “free” and supposedly unbiased
gaze. The nationalism that emerges from the poems analyzed here
emanates from São Paulo. It is a projection of the paulista aristo-
cratic elite’s views of their own importance in history and in the
process of modernization upon the rest of the nation.
As I affirmed before, the poetry of Oswald de Andrade should
not be reduced to a mere expression of his worldview at that specif-
ic time. Pau-Brasil is an extremely complex book with a richness of
subject matter that resists all general characterizations. There are
many other dimensions to this poetry not analyzed here. My cri-
tique does not devalue its importance or question the quality of Os-
wald’s poetry. What I emphasize in my analysis is the social position
that influences the view of society articulated in these poems. As
Roberto Schwarz argues:
...a poet is not the worse or better for giving literary form to the
experience of an oligarchy: everything depends on the working
out and the elucidatory power of his compositions. It’s not a mat-
ter of reducing art to its social origins, but of making explicit its
ability to formalize, explore and carry to revealing limits the pos-
sibilities of a practical historical situation; without placing the

poem in history, there is no way of reading the history which is
condensed and given power within it, and which constitutes its
value. We all know today that the hegemony of the coffee grow-
ers and exporters had no future and ended with the 1929 crash,
but naturally this does not detract from Oswald’s poetry, which is
still alive. (“The Cart” 119–120)
However, Oswald’s early work has rarely been associated with the
oligarchy’s experience. The preferred mode of interpretation since
the 1960s has been to associate Oswald’s work with the concept of
cannibalism, with defiance, and with the breaking of the formal
codes and ideological constraints that kept literary expression in
Brazil as the expression of the colonized mentality. This is a kind of
interpretation that avoids touching on the contradictory and para-
doxical nature of the Pau-Brasil project. By embracing both poles
of the incipient modernizing process, the discourse of Pau-Brasil
only made this paradox explicit. This is perhaps the greatest
achievement of the Pau-Brasil project. It may be true that its aes-
thetics were revolutionary, but in other aspects the project offers no
clear way out of the impasse and out of the contradictions that it so
effectively turns into poetic form.
CONCLUSION
his study contributes to the scholarship on Brazilian Modernism

T in two distinct aspects. The first part synthesizes the roles of
various critics and historians in the construction of a metanarrative
that attributes to Modernism the redemptive task of an emancipation
of the Brazilian intellectual and artistic expression. This metanarra-
tive is grounded on the notion of rupture (aesthetic and otherwise),
and in the uniqueness of the modernist legacy in the intellectual his-
tory of the nation. In the second part (chapters three, four, and five)
I provided a critique of the totalizing views of the modernist legacy
by revisiting the 1920s. In these three chapters of the second part I
focused on certain aspects of the works of Paulo Prado, Mário de
Andrade, and Oswald de Andrade. I envisioned these chapters as a
selective set of counter-narratives that explored common themes
and the similar attitudes of these intellectuals vis-à-vis the historical
patrimony and the present. I analyze the economic and political im-
plications of their discourse, as well as the conflictive nature of their
discourse with certain aspects of modernity.
Chapter one summarized the main scholarly contributions to
the study of the relationship between the Vargas administration and
modernist intellectuals. I focused on providing evidence that mod-
ernist intellectuals were among the most active and respected critics
during the 1930s and 40s, which was the period when the canoniza-
tion of Modernism started. In the context of the expansion and uni-
fication of the university system and other efforts in the cultural
arena, the massive presence of modernist intellectuals in the educa-
tional system and their close relationship with Minister Gustavo
Capanema are taken as evidence of the privileged position that
many modernists occupied in the area of literary criticism and his-
263
toriography. Some of the earliest efforts to canonize Modernism

and to write a foundational narrative of its importance in the histo-
ry of Brazilian literature were assigned to modernist critics such as
Mário de Andrade, Manuel Bandeira, Alceu Amoroso Lima, and
Sérgio Milliet. It was clear that Capanema invested in cultural pro-
jects such as Bandeira’s series of poetry anthologies, and Mário de
Andrade’s speech at the Itamaraty, “O movimento modernista.” Al-
so, Lima’s distinguished position as a literary critic and historian–by
virtue of his long contribution to literary criticism, to the close rela-
tionship he had with the Minister and the cultural apparatus of the
state, and to his direct involvement and support of the early mod-
ernist production–made him the leading and almost “official” liter-
ary historian of the period. Lima’s Introdução was a project commis-
sioned by the SPHAN to provide guidelines to other historians,
while his Contribuição was one of the earliest efforts to canonize
Modernism. The analysis of fragments of this early historiography,
its legitimizing of the state’s efforts in the cultural arena, and it self-
legitimizing role constituted the main contribution of this chapter.
Chapter two examined the role of literary historiography in the
constitution of the Brazilian national canon with special focus on the
bulk of literary histories published in the 1950s. These were works in
which Modernism appeared for the first time in a somewhat stan-
dardized form in what I call the metanarrative of emancipation of
Modernism. The chapter also included a brief analysis of other de-
velopments in literary criticism in Brazil. In spite of the variety of
theoretical and methodological approaches to literature, as well as
divergent opinions about specific authors, this body of historiogra-
phy presented, by and large, very similar narratives with regard to
the historical significance of the modernist movement. I placed em-
phasis on the various ways by which form–aesthetics, rhetorical
strategies, and artistic procedures such as parody and irony–was re-
garded as an intrinsically oppositional element in the modernist liter-
ary production and many times taken as a sign of the so-called rup-
ture with the past. One of the main arguments included in this
chapter regards the manner by which critics not only placed Mod-
ernism and modernist authors at the center of the process of nation-
alization of Brazilian literature, but also appropriated the image of
defiance of the modernists and utilized it to fulfill their own agendas.
Chapter three focuses on Paulo Prado both as a cultural entrepre-
neur and as an author. Prado was the main patron of the movement in
CONCLUSION 265
São Paulo, a respected intellectual, and a political leader of the cof-

fee aristocracy. This conflict became instrumental in the mod-
ernists’ critique of the state of affairs in São Paulo during the 1920s.
In Paulo Prado’s texts, his retreat into colonial traditions was
wholeheartedly affirmative, though still contradictory. Prado’s ob-
sessive reference to the Bandeirantes’ experience should be under-
stood as more than a scholarly effort to reconstruct São Paulo’s
past. The spirit of the Bandeirante represented, in Prado’s view, an
element of visionary courage that belonged to the aristocracy, but
that was under constant threat in the present. Prado’s resorted to
this myth in order to react against aspects of modernity that threat-
ened the hegemony of his social class. Prado’s discourse reacted
against socio-economic changes of the present but also placed São
Paulo at the center of the political and economic history of Brazil.
His discourse also reclaimed a central role for the rural aristocracy
in the nation’s history as the legitimate usherers-in of the process of
modernization. His discourse denied, in great part, legitimacy to
the economic leadership of the immigrant bourgeoisie.
One of the contributions of this chapter was to point out,
among the many contradictions of Prado’s discourse, the fact that
the author resorted to determinist and evolutionist theories that in-
spired the 1870s generation of intellectuals in Brazil to combat po-
litical and economic Liberalism, which was in fact supported by
such theories. In Prado’s texts the spirit of the Bandeirante was in-
voked to distinguish the native elite from the immigrant bourgeoisie
and also served to place the traditional elites of São Paulo at the
forefront of both economic and cultural modernization in Brazil.
Prado’s discourse revealed the extent to which the rural oligarchy
and especially the coffee aristocracy felt threatened by the rapid
growth of economic power of the immigrant bourgeoisie. Taken to
an extreme, Prado’s discourse of the paulista hegemony also served
to support Prado’s separatist political views in the early 1930s.
I recognized that there could be multiple interpretations of his
writings and the meaning of his involvement with the modernist cul-
tural project. Once again, I chose to analyze aspects that tend to be
mentioned in passing, disregarded, or simply ignored in most of the
criticism on Modernism. I explored Prado’s atavistic historical view,
and its relation to the state of affairs of the coffee business at the
time. I also considered a few possible meanings of Prado’s intellectu-
al production and his central role as a cultural promoter, entrepre-
neur, and political leader of the aristocracy. Mine is a small contri-

bution to the understanding of his ideas, ideological positions, his
role as a patron of the arts, and the connections of his work with
that of other modernists.
Chapters four and five analyze some of the most important po-
etry of Mário de Andrade and Oswald de Andrade respectively. I
do not believe that their work can be encapsulated in one specific
ideology, or that it can be thought of as a cohesive (coherent) cul-
tural project. These were authors who proposed multiple ideas and
concepts throughout their career, and this makes it virtually impos-
sible for anyone to determine the meaning of their legacy as a
whole. The selected works I chose to analyze here do not constitute
the essence of their modernist projects of national identity either.
These texts and fragments of texts represent moments of conflict,
sometimes overlooked aspects in their vast and complex oeuvre. In
the case of the selected poetry analyzed here, the embrace of tradi-
tions was also accompanied by critical distancing. These selections
constitute a small portion of their writings, and my reading focused
mostly on issues that have received little attention in criticism.
Chapter four analyzed Mário de Andrade’s concept of national art
and literature, his interest in ethnography and popular culture. I se-
lected poems from Paulicéia desvairada (1922) and one poem from
O clã do jaboti (1927), “Noturno de Belo Horizonte,” originally pub-
lished in 1924. The predominant focus of my analysis was the au-
thor’s resistance to modernity both in his definition of national cul-
ture and in his early poems. Contrary to one of the conventions1 of
literary criticism and historiography–which tends to interpret the au-
thor’s early work as the most radically affirmative of modernity and
critical of the past–I argued that since the early phase of Mário’s po-
etic production there had been a strong tendency to resort to the
discourse of tradition in order to critique modernity. For instance, the
discourse of origins–frequently associated with the Bandeirante
saga–appeared throughout Mário’searly poetic production, including
many poems in Paulicéia. In most cases, this activation of the dis-
course of tradition and ancestral linkages confronts the presence of
1
This is an argument that is applied to the history of Modernism in general. The
1920s are considered the “heroic years,” as I pointed out in chapter one, because of
the combativeness and radical rupture with past literary traditions supposedly carried
out by the early modernists.
CONCLUSION 267
immigrants, especially of the bourgeoisie. However, it was not just

through the activation of the Bandeirante trope that the author ex-
pressed a certain uneasiness with regard to the rapid changes
brought about by the multi-cultural aspect of the city of São Paulo
in the early 1920s. Similar topics were emphasized in my analysis of
“Noturno de Belo Horizonte,” in which the urban landscape ap-
peared more clearly as a futile and perhaps mistaken effort to civi-
lize the nation. In spite of the irony and of the fragmented and self-
critical aspect of the author’s aesthetics, there was still an
affirmation of traditions related to a glorious past. The foundational
deeds of the Bandeirantes were, in this view, somehow preserved in
the most original aspects of the culture of the Brazilian countryside,
where the true Brazilian civilization lived in its purest state. These
seem to be the core values emphasized in this epic poem.
Chapter five provided analysis of Oswald de Andrade’s Pau-
Brasil project–including analyses of the “Manifesto da poesia pau-
brasil” (1924) and some of the poems in Pau-Brasil (1925)–with em-
phasis on the activation of the discourse of origins and tradition in
both texts. I summarized the reviews that both the manifesto and
the poetry book received at the time of their publication. These re-
views were written by fellow modernists, and the disparity of atti-
tudes in relation to the Pau-Brasil project revealed the degree of
controversy it generated. This controversy was caused by the con-
tradictory nature of the ideas and the primitivist aesthetics of both
the manifesto and the poetry book. My analysis emphasized aspects
of continuity and affirmation of the discourse of tradition, especial-
ly in the poetry of Pau-Brasil. The main contribution of this chapter
was to explore the various ways in which the fragmented and self-
reflexive language as well as the parodic treatment with regard to
the historical discourse did not necessarily entail a mockery of the
historical patrimony or of the heroic paulista ancestors. Despite the
ambiguities of the poetic discourse in Pau-Brasil, parody and irony
were not always directed at the expense of the parodied text. I ex-
plored relatively wide range of attitudes that this poetry conveys in
relation to the history with which it dialogues.
While I tried to find common threads among the work of these
three intellectuals, I also avoided making sweeping claims about the
modernist movement as a whole, which would have led to another
totalizing narrative. The two Andrades were the most central figures
of the movement: intellectuals whose work is seen as the highest
achievements and the most aesthetically innovative and influential of

the entire modernist movement. Paulo Prado, on the other hand, re-
ceived less critical appreciation. I recognized the importance of the
innovative aspects of Mário de Andrade, Oswald de Andrade, and
Paulo Prado’s work, which is why I chose to analyze selections of
their 1920s work. In order to counter the notion of rupture as a nega-
tion of past traditions, I focused on aspects of the modernist cultural
project in which this rupture or critique marked a problematic rela-
tionship with some aspects of modernity and an embrace of certain
facets of tradition. This critique was also part of these authors’ pro-
jects of national identity. In the texts I analyzed, the resistance to
modernity problematized social, economic, and cultural issues.
Although the theme of bandeirismo was not the only topic exam-
ined in the prose and poetry of these authors, this was certainly a
central aspect of chapters three, four, and five. In the works of these
authors the myth of bandeirismo is often invoked as an expression of
the paulista supremacy in the country. A complacent portrayal of in-
ternal inequalities and colonization is also codified in Paulo Prado’s
historical prose and in “epic” poems by both Mário and Oswald de
Andrade.2 The Bandeirante trope constitutes a complex metaphor that
is especially prominent in the texts of the São Paulo modernists. It ar-
ticulates various aspects of ancestry such as class, ethnicity, race, and
moral superiority. The metaphor of the Bandeirante often emphasizes
the vision and heroism of the native paulistas, whose role in history
and in the construction of the nation is magnified in the discourse of
these three intellectuals. The trope could be interpreted as a synonym
for the avant-garde quality of the native paulista, and by extension,
to the modernist movement in São Paulo. The Bandeirante ancestral
often appears as the link between the most dynamic and transforma-
tive agents of colonial times and the modern-day paulistas, especial-
ly those of aristocratic extraction. These São Paulo leaders of the past
and the present tend to be portrayed as the legitimate agents of a
modernity that has roots in the colonial times. The modernity that is
celebrated by these three authors is that which can be traced back to
colonial times. This discourse displays a triumphant tone, but it does
2
To be sure, the poems analyzed here are lyrical. But they possess an epic fea-
ture because of their references to a historical narrative or to narratives of historical
value. As I explained in each chapter, there was a totalizing drive also behind the in-
tent to historicize, in spite of these poems’ fragmented and self-reflexive language.
CONCLUSION 269
not always convey a forward-looking critique of modernity. In fact

it can often be nostalgic, anguished toward the present, defensive of
certain traditions, and ethnocentric. In the case of Paulo Prado, the
Bandeirante metaphor is also separatist and classist. Furthermore, it
can be interpreted as a divisive and regionalist discourse. It is not al-
ways clear whether or not the modernists were aware of the fact that
the aristocracy was in decline and that this would have a direct im-
pact on their lives and careers. It appears that Paulo Prado was well-
informed and alarmed by the disastrous economic measures that
were meant to support the coffee business. Thus, in spite of articulat-
ing the pride of the paulistas, the theme of bandeirismo in the mod-
ernist discourse also anticipates, in an indirect way, the end of an era.
W ORKS CITED
Almeida Filho, Augusto de. “Introduction.” O movimento modernista. Rio de Janei-

ro: CEB, 1942. 5-10. Print.
Amaral, Aracy. Blaise Cendrars no Brasil e os modernistas. São Paulo: Martins, 1968.
Print.
Amora, Antônio Soares. História da literatura brasileira (Séculos XVI-XX). 2nd ed.
São Paulo: Saraiva, 1958. Print.
Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of
Nationalism. London: Verso, 1991. Print.
Andrade, Carlos Drummond de. “O homem do pau brasil.” Eds. Marta Rossetti
Batista, Telê Porto Ancona Lopez, and Yone Soares de Lima. Brasil: Primeiro
tempo modernista – 1917/29 documentação. São Paulo: Instituto de Estudos
Brasileiros, 1972. 238-39. Print.
Andrade, Francisco Eduardo de. A invenção das Minas Gerais: Empresas, descobri-
mentos e entradas nos sertões do ouro da América portuguesa. Belo Horizonte:
PUC Minas, 2008. Print.
Andrade, Mário de. O clã do jaboti. 1927. Poesias completas. São Paulo: Martins,
1960. 107-53. Print.
––––––. “Elegia de Abril.” Aspectos da literatura brasileira. São Paulo: Americ-Edit,
1943. 236-50. Print.
––––––. Ensaio sobre a música brasileira. 1928. 4th ed. Belo Horizonte: Itatiaia,
2006. Print.
––––––. A escrava que não é Isaura. 1925. Obra imatura. São Paulo: Martins, 1960.
195-275. Print.
––––––. Hallucinated City. Trans. Jack E. Tomlins. Nashville: Vanderbilt UP, 1968.
Print.
––––––. Há uma gota de sangue em cada poema. 1917. Obra imatura. São Paulo:
Martins, 1960. 9-41. Print.
––––––. O movimento modernista. Rio de Janeiro: CEB, 1942. Print.
––––––. Paulicéia desvairada. 1922. Poesias completas. São Paulo: Martins, 1960. 11-
64. Print.
––––––. Poesias completas. São Paulo: Martins, 1960. Print.
––––––. “Postfacio.” A escrava que não é Isaura. 1925. Obra imatura. São Paulo:
Martins. 1960. 296-300. Print.
––––––. “Prefácio interessantíssimo.” Paulicéia desvairada. 1922. Poesias completas.
São Paulo: Martins, 1960. 13-32. Print.
––––––. “Tristão de Ataíde.” Aspectos da literatura brasileira. São Paulo: Americ-
Edit, 1943. 7-25. Print.
271
Andrade, Mário de. O turista aprendiz. Ed. Telê Porto Ancona Lopez. São Paulo:
Duas Cidades, 1976. Print.
Andrade, Oswald de. “Cannibalist Manifesto.” Trans. Leslie Bary. Latin American
Literary Review 14.27 (1991): 35-47. Print.
––––––. Um homem sem profissão: Sob as ordens de mamãe. 2nd ed. São Paulo:
Globo, 2002. Print.
––––––. “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil.” A utopia antropofágica. São Paulo: Glo-
bo, 1990. 41-45. Print.
––––––. “Minha vida em cinco atos.” Um homem sem profissão: Sob as ordens de
mamãe. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Globo, 2002. 201-04. Print.
––––––. “O modernismo.” Estética e política. São Paulo: Globo, 1992. 120-27.
Print.
––––––. Pau-Brasil. São Paulo: Globo/Secretaria de Estado de Cultura de São Pau-
lo, 1990. Print.
Ávila, Affonso, ed. O modernismo. Sao Paulo: Perspectiva, 1975. Print.
Baer, Werner. The Brazilian Economy: Growth and Development. 6th ed. Boulder:
Lynne Rienner, 2008. Print.
Bandeira, Manuel. Andorinha, andorinha. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1966.
Print.
––––––. Apresentação da poesia brasileira: Seguida de uma antologia de versos. 2nd
ed. Rio de Janeiro: CEB, 1946. Print.
––––––. Itinerário de pasárgada. 5th ed. Rio de Janeiro: Nova Fronteira, 1984. Print.
Barbosa, Francisco de Assis. “Mário de Andrade: Visto por Carlos de Morais An-
drade.” Retratos de família. 2nd ed. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1968. 147-91.
Print.
Barreto, Afonso Henriques de Lima. Marginália. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Brasiliense,
1961. Print.
Barreto, Paulo (see also Rio, João do). As religiões no Rio. 1904. Rio de Janeiro: Or-
ganização Simões, 1951. Print.
Batista, Marta Rossetti, Telê Porto Ancona Lopez, and Yone Soares de Lima, eds.
Brasil: Primeiro tempo modernista – 1917/29 documentação. São Paulo: Instituto
de Estudos Brasileiros, 1972. Print.
Bellei, Sérgio Luiz Prado. “Brazilian Anthropology Revisited.” Ed. Francis Barker,
Peter Hulme, and Margaret Iverson. Cannibalism and the Colonial World. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge UP, 1998. 87-109. Print.
Berriel, Carlos Eduardo Ornelas. Tietê, Tejo, Seno: A obra de Paulo Prado. Campi-
nas: Papirus, 2000. Print.
Bhabha, Homi. “Dissemination.” The Location of Culture. London: Routledge,
1994. 199-244. Print.
Boaventura, Maria Eugenia. “O projeto pau-brasil: Nacionalismo e inventividade.”
Remate de Males: 6 (1986): 45-52. Print.
––––––. O salão e a selva: Uma biografia ilustrada de Oswald de Andrade. Campinas:
UNICAMP, 1995. Print.
––––––. A vanguarda antropofágica. São Paulo: Atica, 1985. Print.
Bosi, Alfredo. História concisa da literatura brasileira. 38th ed. São Paulo: Cultrix,
1994. Print.
––––––. “Por um historicismo renovado: Reflexo e reflexão em história literária.”
Literatura e resistência. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2002. 7-53. Print.
––––––. O pré-modernismo. São Paulo: Cultrix, 1973. Print.
Bourdieu, Pierre. The Field of Cultural Production: Essays on Art and Literature.
Trans. Richard Nice. Ed. Randal Johnson. New York: Columbia UP, 1993.
Print.
––––––. “The Field of Cultural Production, or: The Economic World Reversed.”
Pierre Bourdieu. The Field. 29-73. Print.
WORKS CITED 273
Bourdieu, Pierre. “The Market of Symbolic Goods.” The Field. 112-141. Print.
––––––. “The Production of Belief.” The Field. 74-111. Print.
Brasil, Assis. História crítica da literatura brasileira: O modernismo. Rio de Janeiro:
Instituto Nacional do Livro/MEC, 1976. Print.
Brito, Mário da Silva. História do modernismo brasileiro: Antecedentes da semana de
arte moderna. São Paulo: Saraiva, 1959. Print.
Bürger, Peter. Theory of the Avant-Garde. Trans. Michael Shaw. Minneapolis: U of
Minnesota P, 1984. Print.
Camayd-Freixas, Erik, and José Eduardo González, eds. Primitivism and Identity in
Latin America: Essays on Art, Literature, and Culture. Tucson: U of Arizona P,
2000. Print.
Campos, Augusto de. Poesia, antipoesia, antropofagia. São Paulo: Cortez & Moraes,
1978. Print.
Campos, Augusto de, Décio Piganatari, and Haroldo de Campos. Teoria da poesia
concreta: Textos criticos e manifestos, 1950-1960. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1987.
Print.
Campos, Haroldo de. “Uma poética da radicalidade.” Pau-Brasil. By Oswald de
Andrade. São Paulo: Globo/Secretaria de Estado da Cultura de São Paulo,
1990. 7-53. Print.
––––––. “Da razão antropofágica: A Europa sob o signo da devoração.”
Colóquio/Letras 62 (1981): 10-26. Print.
––––––. Ruptura dos gêneros na literatura latino-americana. São Paulo: Perspectiva,
1977. Print.
Candido, Antonio. Formação da literatura brasileira: Momentos decisivos. 2 vols. São
Paulo: Martins, 1959. Print.
––––––. Literatura e sociedade: Estudos de teoria e história literária. 6th ed. São Pau-
lo: Companhia Editoria Nacional, 1980. Print.
––––––. Prefácio. Intelectuais e classe dirigente 1920-1945. By Sérgio Miceli. São
Paulo: DIFEL, 1979. ix-xiii. Print.
––––––. Prefácio. Mário de Andrade por ele mesmo. By Paulo Duarte. 2nd. ed. São
Paulo: HUCITEC, 1977. Print.
––––––. “A revolução de 30 e a cultura.” Mão e contramão: E outros ensaios contem-
porâneos. Ed. Paula Montero and Álvaro Comin. São Paulo: Globo, 2009. 17-
42. Print.
Candido, Antonio, and José Aderaldo Castello. Presença da literatura brasileira: Mo-
dernismo. São Paulo: DIFEL, 1976. Print.
Carelli, Mário. Carcamanos e comendadores: Os italianos de São Paulo: Da realidade
à ficção (1919-1930). Trans. Lygia Maria Pondé Vassalo. São Paulo: Ática, 1985.
Print.
“Carl Friedrich Philipp von Martius.” Botanische Staatssammlung München. Bota-
nische Staatssammlung München, 2011. Web. 1 May 2011.
Castello, José Aderaldo. A literatura brasileira: Origens e unidade. 2 vols. São Paulo:
Edusp, 1999. Print.
Cavalari, Rosa Maria Feiteiro. Integralismo: Ideologia e organização de um partido de
massa no Brasil (1932-1937). Bauru: EDUSC, 1999. Print.
Cenni, Franco. Italianos no Brasil. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Martins/USP, 1975. Print.
Cereja, William Roberto, and Thereza Cochar Magalhães. Literatura brasileira. São
Paulo: Atual, 1995. Print.
Coutinho, Afrânio. Introdução à literatura no Brasil. 1959. 8th ed. Rio de Janeiro:
Civilização Brasileira, 1976. Print.
––––––. ed. A literatura no Brasil: O modernismo. Vol. 5. Rio de Janeiro: Sul Ameri-
cana, 1970. Print.
––––––, and José Galante de Sousa, eds. Enciclopédia de literatura brasileira. 2 vols.
Ed. Graça Coutinho and Rita Coutinho. Rio de Janeiro: FBN/ABL, 2001. Print.
Cunha, Fausto. O romantismo no Brasil: De Castro Alves a Sousândrade. Rio de

Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1971. Print.
Dassin, Joan Rosalie. Política e poesia em Mário de Andrade. Trans. Antonio Dimas.
São Paulo: Duas Cidades, 1978. Print.
De Luca, Tania Regina. Revista do Brasil: Um diagnóstico para a (N)ação. São Paulo:
Fundação Editora da UNESP, 1998. Print.
Dean, Warren. The Industrialization of São Paulo, 1880-1945. Austin: U of Texas P,
1969. Print.
Del Picchia, Menotti. “1922-1932 A revolta dos intelectuais.” A “semana” revolucio-
nária: Conferências, artigos e crônicas sobre a Semana de Arte Moderna e as prin-
cipais figuras do movimento modernista no Brasil. Ed. Jácomo Mandatto. Campi-
nas: Pontes, 1992. 27-31. Print.
Duarte, Paulo. Mário de Andrade por ele mesmo. 2nd. ed. São Paulo: HUCITEC,
1977. Print.
Dunn, Christopher. Brutality Garden: Tropicalia and the Emergence of a Brazilian
Counterculture. Chapel Hill: U of North Carolina P, 2001. Print.
Eleutério, Maria de Lourdes. Oswald: Itinerário de um homem sem profissão. Cam-
pinas: UNICAMP, 1989. Print.
Eliel, Carol S. “Purism in Paris 1918-1925.” L’Esprit Nouveau: Purism in Paris 1918-
1925. Ed. Carol S. Eliel. Los Angeles: Los Angeles County Museum of Art/Har-
ry Abrams, 2001. 11-70. Print.
Eliot, Karen. Dancing Lives: Five Female Dances from the Ballet d’Action to Merce
Cunningham. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 2007. Print.
Eulálio, Alexandre. A aventura brasileira de Blaise Cendrars. 2nd. ed. São Paulo:
EDUSP, 2001.
Faoro, Raimundo. Os donos do poder: Formação do patronato político brasileiro. 3rd
ed. São Paulo: Globo, 2001. Print.
Fausto, Boris. Trabalho e conflito social: 1890-1920. São Paulo: DIFEL, 1976. Print.
Fernandes, Lygia, ed. Mário de Andrade escreve cartas a Alceu, Meyer e outros. Rio
de Janeiro: Autor, 1968. Print.
Ferraz, Geraldo. “Perfil de um homem e de um livro.” Preface. Retrato do Brasil:
Ensaio sobre a tristeza brasileira. By Paulo Prado. 6th ed. Rio de Janeiro: José
Olympio, 1962. xi-xx. Print.
Fonseca, Maria Augusta. Oswald de Andrade, 1890-1954: Biografia. São Paulo: Se-
cretaria de Estado da Cultura, 1990. Print.
Forjaz, Maria Cecília Spina. Tenentismo e política: Tenentismo e camadas médias ur-
banas na crise da Primeira República. Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1977. Print.
Foster, David William. “Mário de Andrade: On Being São Paulo-Wise in Paulicéia
desvairada.” São Paulo: Perspectives on the City and Cultural Production.
Gainesville: U of Florida P, 2011. 13-26. Print.
Foucault, Michel. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences.
New York: Vintage, 1994. Print.
Franco, Francisco de Assis Carvalho. Dicionário de bandeirantes e sertanistas do
Brasil. Belo Horizonte: Itatiaia, 1989. Print.
Freyre, Gilberto. “Contradições de Paulo Prado.” Pessoas, coisas & animais: En-
saios, conferências e artigos. Ed. Edson Nery da Fonseca. 2nd ed. Porto Alegre:
Globo, 1981. 91-93. Print.
Frota, Lélia Coelho, org. Carlos & Mario: Correspondencia completa entre Carlos
Drummond de Andrade (inedita) e Mario de Andrade. Rio de Janeiro: Bem-Te-
Vi, 2002. Print.
García Canclini, Néstor. Hybrid Cultures: Strategies for Entering and Leaving
Modernity. Trans. Christopher L. Chiappari and Silvia L. López. Minneapolis:
U of Minnesota P, 1997. Print.
WORKS CITED 275
Gaspari, Elio. A ditadura escancarada. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2002.
Print.
Gonçalves, Marcos Augusto. 1922: A semana que não terminou. São Paulo: Com-
panhia das Letras, 2012. Print.
Gonzalez, Mike, and David Treece. The Gathering of Voices: The Twentieth-Century
Poetry of Latin-America. London: Verso, 1992. Print.
Gouveia, Saulo. “Mário de Andrade’s Early Manifestos: Power, Simulated Authori-
ty, and the Domestication of the Avant-Garde Experiments.” Hispanófila 161
(2011): 87-103. Print.
––––––. “Private Patronage in Early Brazilian Modernism: Xenophobia and Inter-
nal Colonization Coded in Mário de Andrade’s ‘Noturno de Belo Horizonte.’ ”
Luso-Brazilian Review 46.2 (2009): 90-112. Print.
––––––. “Theory and Practice of Literary Historiography in Brazil, 1950s: A Look
into the Corporate Logic of a Modernist Institution.” Ellipsis 7 (2009): 7-34.
Print.
Grembecki, Maria Helena. Mário de Andrade e L’Esprit Nouveau. São Paulo: Insti-
tuto de Estudos Brasileiros, 1969. Print.
Guillory, John. Cultural Capital: The Problem of Literary Canon Formation. Chica-
go: U of Chicago P, 1993. Print.
Haber, Stephen. “Financial Markets and Industrial Development: A Comparative
Study of Governmental Regulation, Financial Innovation, and Industrial Struc-
ture in Brazil and Mexico, 1840-1930.” How Latin America Fell Behind: Essays
on the Economic Histories of Brazil and Mexico, 1800-1914. Ed. Stephen Haber.
Stanford: Stanford UP, 1997. 146-78. Print.
Habermas, Jürgen. “Modernity: An Unfinished Project.” Habermas and the Unfin-
ished Project of Modernity: Critical Essays on the Philosophical Discourse of
Modernity. Ed. Maurizio Passerin d’Entrèves and Seyla Benhabib. Cambridge:
Polity Press, 1996. 38-55. Print.
––––––. The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity: Twelve Lectures. Trans. Frede-
rick Lawrence. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1987. Print.
Hallewell, Laurence. Books in Brazil: A History of the Publishing Trade. Metuchen:
Scarecrow Press, 1982. Print.
Hardman, Francisco Foot. Nem pátria, nem patrão: Vida operária e cultura anar-
quista no Brasil. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1983. Print.
Helena, Lúcia. Totens e tabus da modernidade brasileira: Símbolo e alegoria na obra
de Oswald de Andrade. Rio de Janeiro: Tempo Brasileiro, 1985. Print.
Holanda, Sérgio Buarque de. “The Monsoons.” The Bandeirantes: The Historical
Role of the Brazilian Pathfinders. Ed. Richard M. Morse. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 1965. 152-66. Print.
Hutcheon, Linda. Irony’s Edge: The Theory and Politics of Irony. New York: Rout-
ledge, 1995. Print.
––––––. A Theory of Parody: The Teachings of Twentieth-Century Art Forms. 1985.
2nd ed. Urbana, IL: U of Illinois, P. 2000. Print.
Ivo, Lêdo. Modernismo e modernidade. Rio de Janeiro: São José, 1972. Print.
Johnson, Randal. “Brazilian Modernism: An Idea Out of Place?” Modernism and its
Margins: Reinscribing Cultural Modernity from Spain and Latin America. Ed.
Anthony L. Geist and José B. Monleón. New York: Garland, 1999. 186-214.
Print.
––––––. “The Dynamics of the Brazilian Literary Field, 1930-1945.” Luso-Brazilian
Review 31.2 (1994): 5-22. Print.
––––––. “Editor’s Introduction: Pierre Bourdieu on Art, Literature and Culture.”
Introduction. Field of Cultural Production: Essays on Art and Literature. By
Pierre Bourdieu. Trans. Richard Nice. Ed. Randal Johnson. New York: Colum-
bia UP, 1993. 29-73. Print.
Johnson, Randal. “The Institutionalization of Modernism.” Brasil/Brazil 3.4 (1990):

5-23. Print.
––––––. “As relações sociais da produção literária.” Revista de Crítica Literária 40
(1994): 189-206. Print.
Lafetá, João Luiz. 1930: A crítica e o modernismo. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Duas Cidades,
2000. Print.
Lara, Cecília de. Klaxon & Terra Roxa e outras terras: Dois periódicos modernistas de
São Paulo. São Paulo: Instituto de Estudos Brasileiros, 1972. Print.
Levi, Darrel E. The Prados of São Paulo, Brazil: An Elite Family and Social Change,
1840-1930. Athens: U of Georgia P, 1987. Print.
Levine, Robert. The Vargas Regime: The Critical Years, 1934-1938. New York: Co-
lumbia UP, 1970. Print.
Lima, Alceu Amoroso. “Catolicismo e integralismo.” Indicações políticas: Da re-
volucao à constituicao. Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1936. 187-220. Print.
––––––. Contribuição à história do modernismo: O premodernismo. Rio de Janeiro:
José Olympio, 1939. Print.
––––––. Indicações políticas: Da revolução à constituição. Rio de Janeiro: Civilização
Brasileira, 1936. Print.
––––––. Introdução à literatura brasileira. Rio de Janeiro: AGIR, 1956. Print.
––––––. “Literatura suicida.” Estudos literários. Vol 1. Rio de Janeiro: Aguilar, 1966.
914-27. Print.
––––––. Memórias improvisadas: Diálogos com Medeiros Lima. Petrópolis: Vozes,
1973. Print.
––––––. Quadro sintético da literatura brasileira. Rio de Janeiro: AGIR, 1956. Print.
Lima, Maria Tereza de Almeida. “A presença da tradição no modernismo
brasileiro.” Revista de Letras 50.1 (2010): 49-61. Print.
Lins, Álvaro, ed. História da literatura brasileira. 12 vols. Rio de Janeiro: José Olym-
pio, 1950. Print.
Lopez, Telê Porto Ancona. “Arlequim e modernidade.” Mariodeandradiando. São
Paulo: HUCITEC, 1996. 17-83. Print.
––––––. ed. Eu sou trezentos, eu sou trezentos e cincoenta. Rio de Janeiro: AGIR,
2008. Print.
––––––. Mário de Andrade: Ramais e caminho. São Paulo: Duas Cidades, 1972.
Print.
Love, Joseph L. Crafting the Third World: Theorizing Underdevelopment in Ruma-
nia and Brazil. Stanford: Stanford UP, 1996. Print.
––––––. São Paulo in the Brazilian Federation, 1889-1937. Stanford: Stanford UP,
1980. Print.
Lowe, Elizabeth. The City in Brazilian Literature. East Brunswick, NJ: Farleigh
Dickinson UP, 1982. Print.
Lyotard, Jean-François. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Trans. Ge-
off Bennington and Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1984. Print.
Malard, Letícia. “Nelson Werneck Sodré: A ruptura e o reflexo.” História da litera-
tura: Ensaios. Ed. Letícia Malard et al. Campinas: UNICAMP, 1994. 55-74.
Print.
Martins, Heitor. Oswald de Andrade e outros. São Paulo: Conselho Estadual de Cul-
tura, 1971. Print.
Martins, Wilson. “A crítica modernista.” A literatura no Brasil. Vol. 5. Ed. Afrânio
Coutinho. Rio de Janeiro: Sul Americana, 1970. 493-535. Print.
––––––. A literatura brasileira: O modernismo (1916-1945). Vol. 6. São Paulo: Cul-
trix, 1971. Print.
Miceli, Sérgio. “O Conselho Nacional de Educação: Esboço de análise de um apa-
relho de estado (1931-7).” Intelectuais à brasileira. São Paulo: Companhia das
Letras, 2001. 293-341. Print.
WORKS CITED 277
Miceli, Sérgio. A elite eclesiástica brasileira. Rio de Janeiro: Bertrand do Brasil,

1988. Print.
––––––. “Intelectuais brasileiros.” Intelectuais à brasileira. São Paulo: Companhia
das Letras, 2001. 369-95. Print.
––––––. Intelectuais e classe dirigente 1920-1945. São Paulo: DIFEL, 1979. Print.
––––––. Nacional estrangeiro: História social e cultural do modernismo artístico em
São Paulo. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2004. Print.
Milliet, Sérgio. Panorama da moderna poesia brasileira. Rio de Janeiro: Ministério da
Educação e Saúde, 1952. Print.
Moisés, Massaud. História da literatura brasileira: Modernismo. Vol. 5. São Paulo:
Cultrix, 1989. Print.
Montecinos, Verónica, and John Markoff. “From the Power of Economic Ideas to
the Power of Economists.” The Other Mirror: Grand Theory Though the Lens of
Latin America. Ed. Miguel Angel Centeno and Fernando López-Alves. Prince-
ton: Princeton UP, 2001. 105-50. Print.
Moraes, Eduardo Jardim de. Mário de Andrade: A morte do poeta. Rio de Janeiro:
Civilização Brasileira, 2005. Print.
Moraes, Marcos Antonio de, org. Correspondência: Mário de Andrade e Manuel
Bandeira. São Paulo: Editora de Universidade de São Paulo, 2000. Print.
Morse, Richard M., ed. The Bandeirantes: The Historical Role of the Brazilian
Pathfinders. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1965. Print.
“Nelson Werneck Sodré.” Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de História Contem-
porânea do Brasil. Fundação Getúlio Vargas. 2009. Web. 23 April 2009.
<http://cpdoc.fgv.br/producao/dossies/AEraVargas2/biografias/nelson_wer-
neck_sodre>.
Noland, Carrie. “The Metaphysics of Coffee: Blaise Cendrars, Modernist Standard-
ization, and Brazil.” Modernism/Modernity 7.3 (2000): 401-22. Print.
Nunes, Benedito. “Antropofagia ao alcance de todos.” Preface. A utopia antropofá-
gica. By Oswald de Andrade. São Paulo: Globo, 1990. 5-39. Print.
––––––. Oswald canibal. São Paulo: Perspectiva, 1979. Print.
Oliveira, Lúcia Lippi de, Eduardo Rodrigues Gomez, and Maria Celina Whately.
Elite intelectual e debate político nos anos 30: Uma bibliografia comentada da re-
volução de 1930. Rio de Janeiro: FGV/INL-MEC, 1980. Print.
Oliveira, Vera Lúcia de. Poesia, mito e história no modernismo brasileiro. São Paulo:
UNESP, 2001. Print.
O’Neil, Charles. “Educational Innovation and Politics in São Paulo, 1933-34.” Lu-
so-Brazilian Review 8.1 (1971): 56-68. Print.
Ozenfant, Amédée, and Charles-Edouard Jeanneret. “After Cubism.” 1918. Rpt. in
L’Esprit Nouveau: Purism in Paris, 1918-1925. Ed. Eliel. Los Angeles: Los Ange-
les County Museum of Art, 2001. 129-68. Print.
Passerin d’Entrèves, Maurizio, and Seyla Benhabib, eds. Habermas and the Unfin-
ished Project of Modernity: Critical Essays on the Philosophical Discourse of
Modernity. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1996. Print.
Paz, Octavio. “La tradición de la ruptura” Los hijos del limo: Del romanticismo a la
vanguardia. Barcelona, Spain: Editorial Seix Barral, 1981. 17-37. Print.
Pécaut, Daniel. Os intelectuais e a política no Brasil: Entre o povo e a nação. Trans.
Maria Júlia Goldwasser. São Paulo: Ática, 1990. Print.
Pereira, Lúcia Miguel. Prosa de ficção (De 1870 a 1920). Ed. Álvaro Lins. 2nd ed.
Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio, 1957. Print.
Perrone, Charles A. “Presentation and Representation of Self and City in Paulicéia
desvairada.” Chasqui 31.1 (2002): 18-27. Print.
Pignatari, Décio. “Tempo: Invenção e inversão.” Preface. Um homem sem profissão.
By Oswald de Andrade. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Globo, 2002. 11-15. Print.
Poggioli, Renato. The Theory of the Avant-Garde. Trans. Gerald Fitzgerald. Cam-
bridge: Belknap Press of Harvard UP, 1968. Print.
Prado, Paulo. Paulística: História de São Paulo. 2nd ed. Rio de Janeiro: Ariel, 1934.
Print.
––––––. “Poesia pau-brasil.” Preface. Pau Brasil. By Oswald de Andrade. São Pau-
lo: Globo/Secretaria de Estado de Cultura de São Paulo, 1990. 57-60. Print.
––––––. Retrato do Brasil: Ensaio sobre a tristeza brasileira. Rio de Janeiro: José
Olympio, 1962. Print.
Prado Júnior, Caio. História econômica do Brasil. 8th ed. São Paulo: Brasiliense,
1963. Print.
Rego, José Lins do. “Espécie de história literária.” Gordos e magros: Ensaios. Rio de
Janeiro: C.E.B., 1942. 49-53. Print.
Roig, Andrien. Blaise Cendrars, o Aleijadinho e o modernismo brasileiro. Rio de Ja-
neiro: Tempo Brasileiro, 1984. Print.
––––––. “La fazenda São Martinho d’Oswald de Andrade et de Blaise Cendrars.”
Quadrant (1988): 59-82. Print.
Romero, Sílvio. História da literatura brasileira. 1888. 6th ed. Rio de Janeiro: José
Olympio, 1960. Print.
Rosenberg, Fernando. “Looking Back, Looking Through: Colonial Visions in Mod-
ernism.” Chasqui 34.1 (2005): 65-77. Print.
Rosenberg, Harold. The Tradition of the New. New York: Horizon, 1959. Print.
Salgado, Plínio. O que é integralismo. Rio de Janeiro: Schmidt, 1933. Print.
Saliba, Elias Thomé. Raízes do riso: A representação humorística brasileira: Da belle
époque aos primeiros tempos do rádio. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2002.
Print.
Sant’Anna, Affonso Romano. “Modernismo as poéticas do centramento e do de-
scentramento.” O modernismo. Ed. Affonso Ávila. São Paulo: Perspectiva,
1975. 55-68. Print.
Santiago, Silviano. “Fechado para balanço (sessenta anos de modernismo).” Nas
malhas da Letra. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1989. 75-93. Print.
––––––. “História de um livro.” Nas malhas da letra. São Paulo: Companhia das Le-
tras, 1989. 124-64. Print.
––––––. “O intelectual modernista revisitado.” Nas malhas da letra. São Paulo:
Companhia das Letras, 1989. 165-75. Print.
––––––. “A permanência do discurso da tradição no modernismo.” Nas malhas da
letra. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1989. 94-123. Print.
Schwarcz, Lilia Moritz. Spectacle of the Races: Scientists, Institutions, and the Race
Question in Brazil 1870-1930. Trans. Leland Guyer. New York: Hill and Wang,
1999. Print.
Schwartzman, Simon, Helena Maria Bousquet Bomeny, and Vanda Maria Ribeiro
Costa. Tempos de Capanema. Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1984. Print.
Schwarz, Roberto. “Brazilian Culture: Nationalism by Elimination.” Misplaced
Ideas: Essays on Brazilian Culture. Trans. John Gledson. London: Verso, 1992.
1-18. Print.
Schwarz, Roberto. “The Cart, the Tram, and the Modernist Poet.” Misplaced Ideas:
Essays on Brazilian Culture. Trans. John Gledson. New York: Verso, 1992. 108-
25. Print.
––––––. “O psicologismo na poética de Mário de Andrade.” A sereia e o desconfia-
do: Ensaios críticos. 2nd ed. Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1981. 13-23. Print.
Seitler, Dana. Atavistic Tendencies: The Culture of Science in American Modernity.
Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2008. Print.
Sevcenko, Nicolau. Literatura como missão: Tensões sociais e criação cultural na Pri-
meira República. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2003. Print.
WORKS CITED 279
Sevcenko, Nicolau. Orfeu extático da metrópole: São Paulo, sociedade e cultura nos
frementes anos 20. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1989. Print.
––––––. “O renascimento modernista de São Paulo na década de 1920.” Os nasci-
mentos de São Paulo. Ed. Eduardo Bueno. Rio de Janeiro: Ediouro, 2004. 190-
205. Print.
Silva, Marcelo José. “Percurso e percalços de Afrânio Coutinho na crítica brasilei-
ra.” Terra Roxa e Outras Terras: Revista de Estudos Literários 16 (2009): 63-71.
Print.
Silveira, Tasso da. Definição do modernismo. Rio de Janeiro: Forja, 1931. Print.
Simon, Iumna Maria. “Poetic Evolution in the Industrial Era: The Brazilian Moder-
nists.” Ed. John D. Wirth and Robert L. Jones. Manchester and São Paulo: Pro-
blems of Rapid Urban Growth. Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 1978. 35-49. Print.
Skidmore, Thomas E. Black into White: Race and Nationality in Brazilian Thought.
New York: Oxford UP, 1974. Print.
Sodré, Nelson Werneck. A história da imprensa no Brasil. Rio de Janeiro: Civiliza-
ção Brasileira, 1966. Print.
––––––. História da literatura brasileira: Seus fundamentos econômicos. 4th ed. Rio
de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 1964. Print.
Stein, Stanley J. Vassouras: A Brazilian Coffee County 1850-1900. 1957. Princeton,
NJ: Princeton UP, 1985. Print.
Stepan, Nancy Leys. “Eugenics in Brazil: 1917-1940.” The Wellborn Science: Euge-
nics in Germany, France, Brazil, and Russia. Ed. Mark B. Adams. New York:
Oxford UP, 1990. 110-52. Print.
Suárez, José I., and Jack E. Tomlins. Mário de Andrade: The Creative Works. Lewis-
burg: Bucknell UP, 2000. Print.
Sussekind, Flora. Cinematógrafo de letras: Literatura, técnica e modernização no Bra-
sil. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1987. Print.
Taunay, Affonso de E. Historia geral das bandeiras paulistas. Vol. 3. São Paulo:
Ideal, 1927. Print.
Teles, Gilberto Mendonça. Vanguarda européia e modernismo brasileiro. 2nd ed. Pe-
trópolis: Vozes, 1973. Print.
Torgovnick, Marianna. Gone Primitive: Savage Intellects, Modern Lives. Chicago: U
of Chicago P, 1990. Print.
Unruh, Vicky. Latin American Vanguards: The Art of Contentious Encounters. Ber-
keley: U of California P, 1994. Print.
Vargas, Getúlio. Governo trabalhista do Brasil. Vol 2. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio,
1954. Print.
Vasconcellos, Gilberto. A ideologia curupira: Análise do discurso integralista. São
Paulo: Brasiliense, 1979. Print.
Ventura, Roberto. “História e crítica em Sílvio Romero.” História da literatura: En-
saios. Ed. Letícia Mallard. São Paulo: Unicamp, 1994. 34-54. Print.
Veríssimo, José. História da literatura brasileira. De Bento Teixeira (1601) a Machado
de Assis (1908). 1916. Rio de Janeiro: Francisco Alves, 1929. Print.
Wallace-Murphy, Tim. The Enigma of the Freemasons: Their History and Mystical
Connections. New York: Disinformation Co., 2006. Print.
Weissman, Charlotte. “The Origin of Species: The Debate between August Weis-
sman and Moritz Wagner.” Journal of the History of Biology 43.4 (2010): 727-66.
Print.
White, Hayden V. Metahistory: The Historical Imagination in Nineteenth-century
Europe. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1973. Print.
Williams, Daryle. “Capanema, Ministro da Cultura.” Capanema: o ministro e seu
ministério. Ed. Angela Gomes de Castro. Rio de Janeiro: FGV, 2000. 251-69.
Print.
Williams, Daryle. Culture Wars in Brazil: The First Vargas Regime, 1930-1945.
Durham: Duke UP, 2001. Print.
Wirth, John D. Minas Gerais in the Brazilian Federation, 1889-1937. Stanford: Stan-
ford UP, 1977. Print.
Wisnik, José Miguel. Coro dos contrários. Sao Paulo: Duas Cidades, 1977. Print.
––––––. “Cultura pela culatra” Teresa. Revista de Literatura Brasileira l (2000): 95.
Print.
––––––. “Getúlio da Paixão Cearense.” Música. Ed. Enio Squeff and José Miguel
Wisnik. 2nd ed. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 2004. Print.
Yúdice, George. “Rethinking the Theory of the Avant-Garde from the Periphery.”
Modernism and Its Margins: Reinscribing Cultural Modernity From Spain and
Latin America. Ed. Anthony L. Geist and José B. Monleón. New York: Gar-
land, 1999. 52-80. Print.
INDEX
1930: A crítica e o modernismo (Lafetá), Andrade, Carlos Drummond de, 27n16,

46-48, 46n13, 47n14, 52n19 49-50, 49n16, 50, 97, 146n28, 176n5,
207, 229n15, 232n20; Alguma poesia,
Abreu, Capistrano de, 150, 151-52, 153 45; “O homem do pau brasil”, 235-
Academia Brasileira de Letras, 143 36; Vargas administration and, 56-57
Ação Católica Universitária, 64, 77 Andrade, Inês Henriqueta de Sousa,
Adorno, Theodor, 15 223n9
aesthetic criticism. See criticism Andrade, Mário de, 89, 97, 104n20,
aestheticism, 46n13, 86 122, 129n10, 144-45n25, 146n26-
aesthetics, 27 47n29, 150, 263-68 (see also An-
African culture, 183 drade, Mário de, works of; Sobral,
“After Cubism” (Ozenfant and Jean- Mário); Academia Brasileira de Le-
neret), 187 tras and, 143; assessment of, 174-75;
Agir, 90 Bandeirantes and, 177, 196-203, 204-
Aleijadinho, 205, 227 19, 266-67; career of, 175-81;
Alencar, José de, 105 Catholicism and, 191-96, 196n26;
Alguma poesia (Carlos Drummond de conservatism of, 174, 175; cultural
Andrade), 45 politics and, 180-81; death of, 179,
Aliança Liberal, 160, 177, 255 179n9; decline of, 179-80, 179n9,
Almeida, Guilherme de, 97, 144-45n25 180n11, 181; democratization of
Almeida, José Américo de, 44 modernity and, 180-81; Departamen-
Almeida, Tácito de, 144-45n25 to de Cultura de São Paulo and, 175,
Almeida Filho, Augusto de, 174 178-81, 179n9; discourse of criticism
Amado, Jorge, 44, 63, 64n31, 97 and, 46-47, 46n13; ethnographical
Amaral, Aracy, 205 surveys by, 181; expeditions of, 181;
Amaral, Gilda, 121n2 experimentation and, 219; faith and,
Amaral, Tarsila do, 149n33, 227-28, 193, 194-96; folklore and, 181-83,
232, 235, 239 186, 204-19; funeral of, 196n26; Fu-
Amaral family, 148 turism and, 186; illness of, 75n39,
Amora, Antônio, 88n6, 123n5 179n9, 180; immigrants and, 196-97;
anarchism, 103n17, 133n13 at Instituto de Artes of the Universi-
ancestry, 24 dade do Distrito Federal, 179-80; at
Anchieta, José de, 193 Instituto Nacional do Livro, 179; lan-
Anderson, Benedict, Imagined Commu- guage and, 209; legacy of, 173-74; life
nities, 206 and career of, 176-81; metanarrative
Andrade, Carlos de Morais, 176 of emancipation and, 76; modernist
281
movement and, 18, 22-26, 23-24n13, 204-19, 224-25, 243, 255, 266-67;
27n16, 38, 50-52, 50n17, 68, 72, 73- “Ode ao burguês”, 189; “Paisagem n.
74n38, 116-17; on modernists and 2”, 197; “Paisagem n. 4”, 189, 202;
aristocracy, 126-27; modernity and, Paulicéia desvairada, 26, 39n10, 175,
116, 181, 204, 211-13, 217-18; music 177, 186-204, 189n20, 205, 218, 255,
and, 183-85; national culture and, 266-67; “Prefácio interessantíssimo’,
183-86, 204-19, 266-67; national 35n7, 182n13, 186, 189n20; publica-
identity and, 173-219, 254-55; Os- tion in Revista do Brasil, 144, 144n23;
wald de Andrade and, 176, 227, 235, “Religião”, 189n20, 190-96, 192n21,
242; Parnassianism and, 186, 188; 203; O samba rural paulista, 181n12;
Partido Democrático (PD) and, 178, “Tietê”, 197, 199; “Tristura”, 189;
180; Pau-Brasil and, 235, 242; poetics “Tu”, 197; O turista aprendiz, 148,
of, 186-88, 187n15; poetry of, 111, 148n30, 169, 181
171, 173-219; popular culture and, Andrade, Oswald de, 13-14n1, 23-
181-86, 204-19; Prado and, 169, 175, 24n13, 23-25, 27-28, 27n16, 50n17,
177, 177n6, 180, 227, 227n14; primi- 97, 105, 107, 109, 109n25, 109n26,
tivism and, 185-86, 227, 229; rela- 122, 144-45n25, 146n28, 148-50,
tionship with father, 176, 176n5; reli- 149n33, 173, 205, 263, 266-68 (see al-
gion and, 189n20, 190-96, 196n26; so Andrade, Oswald de, works of);
Revista Nova and, 145; rupture and, Academia Brasileira de Letras and,
218-19; ruptures and, 174; sepa- 143; anthropophagy and, 104,
ratism of, 177; Serviço do Patrimônio 104n19, 104n21, 106, 221, 221n5,
Histórico e Artístico Nacional 234-35; aristocracy and, 261-62;
(SPHAN) and, 181, 182, 182n13; atavism and, 220-62; autobiography
Symbolist poetry and, 186, 188; of, 224n10; as avatar of the left, 221-
theme of the Harlequin in, 188; 22; Bandeirantes and, 222-23, 246; bi-
themes of rural folklore in, 185-86; ography of, 223-24; Cântico dos cânti-
tradition and, 217-18; transition to cos para flauta e violão, 220; Cendrars
Modernism, 188; Vargas administra- and, 232-34, 239-40; debut of, 226; in
tion and, 56; vernacular language in, Europe, 223-24, 224n10, 235; Euro-
185-86; on Week of Modern Art, pean models and, 99; family of, 223-
39n10 24, 223n9, 227-28; humor and, 242;
Andrade, Mário de, works of: O clã do hybridity and, 225, 229; legacy of,
jaboti, 26-27, 175; Danças dramáticas 220-21, 234n23; Mária de Andrade
do Brasil, 181n12; “O domador”, and, 176, 227; materiality and, 241-
197-98, 199; “Domingo”, 189; early 42; modernist movement and, 116-17;
modernist poetry of, 186-88; “Elegia modernity and, 116, 223-28; modern-
de abril”, 182n13; O empalhador de ization and, 239; national identity
passarinho, 75; Ensaio sobre a música and, 236, 238, 240; optimism of, 242-
brasileira, 182-85; A escrava que não é 43; Pau-Brasil project and, 222-24,
Isaura, 35n7, 182n13, 187; “Eu sou 222n7, 226-30, 229n16, 231-32n19,
trezentos”, 173; “As infibraturas do 262, 267; poetic language of, 221-23,
Ipiranga”, 189; “Inspiração”, 189; 221n5, 226-27, 228-29, 231, 238-46,
Macunaíma, 44, 105, 105n23, 206; 257, 261; poetry of, 111, 171; Prado
Missão de pesquisas folclóricas, 183; and, 224, 227, 227n14, 237, 238;
“Modernismo”, 75; Modinhas imperi- primitivism and, 188, 223-28, 227,
ais, 181n12; O movimento moder- 229-30, 232-34, 234n22, 236, 237;
nista, 39-41, 43, 69, 74-77, 126-27; publication in Revista do Brasil, 144,
“O movimento modernista” (speech 144n23; reception of, 220-21, 235-36,
at Itamaraty), 173-74, 264; Música de 239; rupture and, 222; Vargas admin-
feitiçaria, 181n12; Namoros com a istration and, 59; view of Brazil, 233-
medicina, 181n12; “Noturno de Belo 34; visual quality of poetry, 240-41; on
Horizonte”, 26-27, 175, 175n3, 177, Week of Modern Art, 39n10
INDEX 283
Andrade, Oswald de, works of: Os con- aristocracy, 48-49, 50n17, 52, 57, 59-61,
denados, 220n1; A crise da filosofia 61n29, 66, 121-36, 129n10, 144, 147-
messiânica, 220n2; Escada vermelha, 48, 151, 160, 198, 205, 208, 217-18,
220n1; “Escola rural”, 252-54; Es- 255, 261-62, 265
trela de absinto, 220n1; “Falação”, arrayal do Tijuco (Diamantina), Minas
228; “Fernão Dias Paes”, 257-59; Gerais, 144
“Ideal bandeirante”, 258-59, 261; artistic renovation, 13-14n1
“Loide brasiliero”, 226; “Manifesto Art Nouveau, 33-34, 37
Antropofágico”, 35n7, 104n21, 188, art por l’art, 85-86, 184
220; “Manifesto da poesia pau- “As relações sociais da produção
brasil”, 27; “Manifesto da poesia literária” (Johnson), 35, 35n6
Pau-Brasil”, 35n7, 146-47, 188, 220, atavism, 24-25, 26, 154-55, 220-62 (see
224, 228-30, 255, 267; Memórias sen- also primitivism)
timentais de João Miramar, 44, 220; Athayde, Tristão de, 27n16, 69n36, 77,
“O modernismo”, 39n10; A morta, 207-8, 207n31, 209, 236, 242, 255
220n2; “Paisagem”, 249; Pau-Brasil, (see also Lima, Alceu Amoroso)
27-28, 206, 220-62, 222-30, 231- auctores, 81-82, 87
32n19, 232n20, 237n26, 257, 267; authoritarianism, 62-64, 221, 221n6
“Pobre alimária”, 239; “Poemas da autonomization, 19
colonização”, 225-26, 236, 257-58; avant-garde, 26, 38-39, 39n9, 66, 98,
“Postes da Light”, 239, 259; Primeiro 121, 240; Latin American, 114-17;
caderno do aluno de poesia Oswald de modernist discourse of origins and,
Andrade, 220; “Prosperidade”, 242- 112-17; nonorganic, 113; primitivism
43, 249, 259; O rei da vela, 220n2; and, 113-14; in São Paulo, Brazil,
“Roteiro de Minas”, 255, 257; 39n9; tradition and, 206-7
“Sabará“, 255-57; “São Martinho”, Ayala, Walmir, 92
222-23, 227, 240-54; Serafim Ponte Azevedo, Fernando de, 66, 178
Grande, 220; Trilogia do Exílio, 220,
220n1 Bakhtin, Mikhail, 104, 104n21, 110; Ra-
Andrade, Rodrigo de Melo Franco de, belais and His World, 104n21
77-78, 100 Bandeira, Manuel, 22, 27n16, 38, 73-
Andrade Filho, Oswald de (Nonê), 205 74n38, 89, 97, 177, 177n6, 230-32,
Anjos, Augusto dos, 34n4 231-32n19, 264; A presentação da
anthologization, historiography and, 70- poesia brasileira, 69-72, 220-21,
71 221n4; on Pau-Brasil, 144-48,
anthropophagy, 104, 104n19, 104n21, 146n26-46n28, 241; “Poesia Pau-
105n23, 106, 221, 221n5, 234-35 Brasil”, 146-47
anti-Liberalism, 59-62, 59n28, 63 Bandeirantes, 23-24n13, 265, 269; im-
Antologia da língua portuguesa (Cruz), migrants and, 196-98; Mário de An-
66 drade and, 176-77, 193-219, 266-67;
Antropofagia group, 59 modernist discourse of origins and,
Antunes, Arnaldo, 221n5 115-16; modernist movement and,
Apollinaire, Guillaume, 106, 187 23-26; Oswald de Andrade and, 245-
Apresentação da poesia brasileira (Ban- 46, 245n33, 246n34, 251, 254-55;
deira), 69-72, 220-21, 221n4 Prado and, 131, 136, 142, 144, 151-
“A propósito da exposição Malfatti” 65, 153n39, 168, 171
(Lobato), 39n9 bandeirismo, 23-24n13, 24-25, 115-16,
Aranha, Graça, 13-14n1, 34n4, 141-42, 154-55, 222-23, 251, 254-62, 268 (see
143, 143n22, 146, 146n28 also Bandeirantes)
Arcadismo, 92 Bancodo Brasil, 131
Ariel, 19n10 Banco Comércio e Indústria, 131
Arinos, Afonso, O contratador de dia- Barbieri, Ivo, 92
mantes, 143-44 Barbosa, Francisco de Assis, 176, 176n5
Barbosa, J. Alexandre, 92 Buckle, Henry Thomas, 84, 84n5, 152

Barbosa, Rui, 228 Bürger, Peter, 112-13
Barreto, Lima, 34n4, 73, 103n17,
143n22 Calixto, Benedito, 192n21
Barreto, Paulo, As religiões no Rio, 193n3 Camargo, Joracy, 64n31
Barros, Couto de, 144-45n25 Camayd-Freixas, Eric, 114
Barthes, Roland, 110 “O caminho das Minas” (Prado),
Bataille, Georges, 15 153n39, 206-7
Belle Époque, 34, 72-73, 100, 102-3, “O caminho do mar” (Prado), 156-59
103n17, 147, 169, 186, 220 Campos, Augusto de, 83, 104-7, 104n19,
Bellei, Sérgio, 106 109, 109n26, 221; Poesia, antipoesia,
belletrism, 86 antropofagia, 104n20
Belo Horizonte, Brazil, 204-19 Campos, Carlos de, 133
Berriel, Carlos, 143n22, 144-45, 151, Campos, Haroldo de, 83, 83n3, 104n19,
177; Tietê, Tejo, Sena: A obra de 105n23, 109, 221-22, 226, 247; an-
Paulo Prado, 122 thropophagy and, 106; critique of di-
Bhabha, Homi, 245, 245n32 achronic historicism, 106-7; “Da
blackness, 167n45, 168 razão antropofágica”, 104-5, 104n20;
blacks, 167-68, 167n45 on Oswald de Andrade, 109n26;
Boaventura, Maria, 27 Pau-Brasil project and, 232, 234,
Boaventura, Maria Eugênia, 109 234n22-34n23, 238, 241; “Uma
Bomeny, Helena Maria Bosquet, 56, 67 poética da radicalidade”, 222n8; A
Bopp, Raul, 97 ruptura dos gêneros, 104n20, 105n22
Borba Gato, Antônio, 256n39 Candido, Antonio, 17, 49-50, 49n16,
Borba Gato, Baltazar, 256n39 51, 66, 92n11, 114, 123n5, 196n26;
Formação, 92, 96; Presença da lite-
Borba Gato, Francisco, 256n39
ratura brasileira, 92n11
Borba Gato, João de, 199n27, 256n39
cannibalism. See anthropophagy
Borba Gato, Manuel de, 256-57,
canon formation, 20, 22, 37-38, 55, 68,
256n39
90, 103, 105-6, 221, 263, 264; early,
Borba Gato family, 199, 199n27, 256,
68-79; historiography and, 80-117;
256n39 literary history and, 80-82; of Mod-
Borges, Jorge Luis, 105, 206 ernism, 68-79, 73-74n38, 88; of mod-
Bosi, Alfredo, 95-96, 104n18; A literatu- ernist movement, 68-79; national
ra brasiliera: O pré-modernismo, identity and, 95; self-legitimation
100n14 and, 73, 73-74n38; state cultural ap-
Bourdieu, Pierre, 15, 19, 54, 54n21, 81- paratuses and, 82
82, 81n2, 87, 93; The Field of Cultur- Cântico dos cânticos para flauta e violão
al Production, 15n2 (Oswald de Andrade), 220
bourgeoisie, 52, 61, 117, 184, 201, 267; “Canto Orfeônico”, 185
immigrant, 127-29, 142, 265; indus- Capanema, Gustavo, 56-57, 64-65, 67,
trial, 127-34, 129n10 69-70, 150, 179-80, 180n11, 185,
Brant, Felisberto Caldeira, 144 263-64
brasileirismo, 123n4 Carelli, Mário, 196, 198, 201-2
Brayner, Sônia, 92 the carnivalesque, 104, 104n21, 105
Brazilianess, 82, 83 Carpentier, Alejo, 206
Brazilian Independence, 214, 214n33 Carrazoni, André, 64n31
“Brazilian Modernism: The Canonised Carvalho, Elazar de, 64n31
Revolution” (Resende), 73n37 Carvalho, Ronald, 89
Brazilian Studies, 50 Carvalho, Ronald de, 97, 123n4, 146-
Brecheret, Victor, 123n4 47, 150
Brito, Mário da Silva, 88n6, 90, 91, Casa Prado-Chaves, 121n1, 131, 132,
123n5; História do modernismo bra- 133, 151, 170, 251; see Casa Prado-
sileiro, 92-93 Chaves
INDEX 285
Castello, José Aderaldo, 92, 104n18, Companhia Paulista de Imigração, 131

123n5; A literatura brasileira: Origens Comte, Auguste, 84
e unidade, 82-83; Presença da literatu- Comuna de Manaus, 102n16
ra brasileira, 92n11 concrete poetry movement. See Poesia
Castelo Branco, D. Rodrigo de, 257 concreta
Catholic Church, 61, 64, 64n32, 78 Os condenados (Oswald de Andrade),
Catholicism, 45, 46n13, 56, 58-61, 64- 220n1
65, 67, 96, 98, 100, 191-96, 192n21, Conselho Nacional de Educação, 77
195n25-95n26, 216-18 Conselho Nacional do Café, 121n1
Universidade Católica, 67 Conservatório Dramático e Musical de
Cendrars, Blaise, 26-27, 27n14, 28, 148- São Paulo, 176
51, 149n32, 149n33, 205, 224, Constitutional Revolution. See Revo-
224n12, 226-28, 227n14, 234n22, lução Constitutionalista
242, 242n29, 249; Feuilles de Route, O contratador de diamantes (Arinos),
234; “Metaphysics of Coffee”, 224- 143-44
25, 250-51; Pau-Brasil and, 232-35; Contribuição ao história do modernismo:
Pau-Brasil and, 239-40 O premodernismo (Lima), 69, 72-73,
censorship, 63-64, 78 264
Center of Industries of the State of São “O Convênio Franco-Brasileiro” (Pra-
Paulo, ¿, 131 do), 139-40
Centro de Pesquisa e Documentação de O coro dos contrários (Wisnik), 52
Hístoria Contemporânea do Brasil Correio da Manhã, 228
(CPDOC), Fundação Getúlio Vargas, Correio Paulistano, 142, 143n21
49, 49n15
Correspondência, 144n24
Centro Dom Vital, 64
corruption, 155-56, 166-67n44
Cinematógrafo (Sussekind), 103n17
Cortázar, Julio, 105
Civilização Brasileira, 89n7
Costa, Lúcio, 149
civil liberties, 61
Costa, Vanda Maria Ribeiro, 56, 67
O clã do jaboti (Mário de Andrade), 26-
counter-narratives, 21, 121-262
27, 175
class, 48-49, 50n17, 52, 61-62, 61n29, coup of 1937, 63
66, 100-102, 103n17, 117, 124-27, Coutinho, Afrânio, 43, 88n6, 89-90, 91,
129n10, 135-36, 198-203, 260-62, 92n10, 98-99, 100, 102; A literatura
265 (see also specific classes) no Brasil, 90, 91-92
coffee aristocracy, 198, 205, 208, 217- Couto, Ribeiro, 97
18; coffee plantations, 127-34, 134- CP-DOC, Fundação Getúlio Vargas, 49
35n14, 224n12; Prado and, 121, A crise da filosofia messiânica (Oswald
121n1, 124-34, 129n9, 134-35n14, de Andrade), 220n2
141-42, 147-48, 151, 160, 170 “Cristãos Novos”, 158
coffee trade, 127-34, 136-40, 139n17, Crítica Nova movement, 89, 92n10
151, 170, 208, 213-14n32, 224, 227, criticism, 18, 21, 23, 29, 33-34, 33n1,
243-52, 265 39n9, 46-55, 52n19, 53-55, 83, 263;
Colégio do Carmo, 176 of the 1970s and 1980s, 107; aesthet-
colonato system, 248n35 ic, 48-55; Catholicism and, 98, 100;
colonial era, 23-24n13, 24, 116, 164-66, critical theory, 23; democratization
165n43, 177, 225, 246-48, 248n35, and, 46; discourse of, 46-48; educa-
258 tional system and, 95; formalist ap-
Coluna Prestes, 102n16 proach, 96; historiography and, 33-
Comissão Nacional para a Repressão do 35; ideology and, 46-48; naturalist,
Comunismo, 63 84; poetry and, 70-71; self-legitima-
Commedia dell’ Arte, 188 tion of, 87
Communism, 44, 61, 64 critics, field of power and, 82
Communist Party, 59 Croce, Benedetto, 79, 95
Cruz, Estevão, Antologia da língua por- economics, 19-20, 19n9, 19n10, 127-34,
tuguesa, 66 224-25, 242-43, 247-52, 260, 265
Cruz e Souza, 34n4 educational system, 22, 37-38, 55, 65-
Cubism, 114, 188, 229 68, 88, 263 (see also specific universi-
cultural capital, 81-82 ties); Catholic Church and, 64n32; as
cultural imperialism, 105 consecration of symbolic production,
cultural nationalism, 144 81-82; educational reforms, 64-68;
cultural politics, 53-54, 121-72, 135, literary criticism and, 95; literary his-
141, 144, 180-81 toriography and, 95; Modernism and,
Cunha, Euclides da, 34n4, 103n17 68-69; as sphere of legitimation, 81-
Cunha, Fausto, 47n14 82; Vargas administration and, 66-67
Cunha, Raul Leitão da, 63 “Elegia de abril” (Mário de Andrade),
182n13
Dadaism, 188, 229, 236 Eleutério, Maria, 109, 234n22
Danças dramáticas do Brasil (Mário de elites, 61n29, 125, 126-34, 155-57, 255,
Andrade), 181n12 265 (see also aristocracy)
D’Annunzio, Gabriele, 220 emancipation, 14-18, 20n11, 21-22, 28-
“Da razão antropofágica” (Harold de 29, 35-37, 42-43, 76, 83, 96-103, 106-
Campos), 104n20; Campos, Haroldo 7, 263-64
de, 104-5 O empalhador de passarinho (Mário de
Darwin, Charles, 84 Andrade), 75
Darwinist evolutionism, 152 Encilhamento, 137n16, 208
Dassin, Joan, 180 Encyclopedia Project, 179
Dean, Warren, 127-28, 128n8, 129n10, Ensaio sobre a música brasileira (Mário
130n12, 133n13 de Andrade), 182-85
Del Picchia, Menotti, 52, 59, 97, 141- Entradas e Bandeiras, 157, 165
42, 176, 237 Escada vermelha (Oswald de Andrade),
democratization, 14, 19-21, 46, 65, 238- 220n1
39, 261 Escola Álvares Penteado, 176
Departamento de Cultura de São Escola de Recife, 151
Paulo, 69, 178-79, 179n9, 180, 181 “Escola rural” (Oswald de Andrade),
Departamento de Imprensa e Propa- 252-54
ganda (DIP), 63 A escrava que não é Isaura (Mário de
Departamento Nacional de Infor- Andrade), 35n7, 182n13, 187
mações (DNI), 63 L’Esprit Nouveau, 187, 187n15, 188,
Dependency Theories, 125n6 229
Dermée, Paul, 187 O Estado de São Paulo, 39n9, 122-23,
Derrida, Jacques, 15 136, 139
determinism, 26, 84-85, 86, 152-53, Estado Novo, 63, 63n30, 69, 181
161, 169, 170-71, 265 Estéstica, 175, 175n3
The Dialogic Imagination (Bakhtin), Estrela de absinto (Oswald de An-
104n21 drade), 220n1
dialogism, 104, 104n21, 108, 115 Estudos (Lima), 69
“O domador” (Mário de Andrade), eugenics, 167n45, 168n46
197-98, 199 Eulálio, Alexandre, 149n32, 227
“Domingo” (Mário de Andrade), 189 Europe: European models, 99, 104-6,
Dos Passos, John, 44 149, 152, 204-5, 209, 221, 236, 237,
Duarte, Paulo, 69, 75n39, 150, 150n35, 239, 240; Oswald de Andrade in,
178-79, 179n9, 180n11 223-24, 224n10; primitivism and,
Dumont Coffee Company, 132 113-14; standards in, 86; trends in,
Dutra, Waltensir, 92 98
“Eu sou trezentos” (Mário de An-
Eça de Queirós, 151 drade), 173
INDEX 287
experimentation, 45-46, 96, 98, 105-6, “Getúlio da Paixão Cearense” (Wis-

112-17, 219 nik), 52
Expressionism, 236 Gil, Gilberto, 221n5
Gobineau, Arthur, 152, 171
Faculdade Nacional de Filosofia, 67 Goiás, Brazil, 206
“Falação” (Oswald de Andrade), 228 Gomez, Eduardo Rodrigues, 59-60,
Faria, Octavio de, 46, 46n13, 52, 52n19 59n28
Fascism, 46n13, 59n27, 60 Gonzalez, Mike, 189-90
Fascist Party, 59n27 Grembecki, Maria Helena, 187n15
Faulkner, William, 44 Grieco, Agripino, 46, 46n13
Faustino, Mário, 104n20 the grotesque, 104n21
“Fechado para balanço: Sessenta anos de Guillory, John, 80-82
modernismo” (Santiago), 51, 63n30 Guimarães, Alphonsus de, 34n4
“Fernão Dias Paes” (Oswald de An-
drade), 257-59 Habermas, Jürgen, 15-17, 15n2, 16n4,
Ferraz, Geraldo, 131, 251-52 16n5, 19; “Modernity: An Unfinished
Ferreira, Famínio, 141-42 Project”, 16; The Philosophical Dis-
Festa group, 45, 58-59 course of Modernity, 15-16
The Field of Cultural Production (Bour- Hardman, Francisco Foot, 103, 103n17
dieu), 15n2 Harlequin, 26, 186-204
field of power, 81-82, 81n2, 93 Há uma gota de sangue em cada poema
Filho, Adonias, ¿, 92 (Sobral), 186
fin de siècle, 23, 37, 174 Heidegger, Martin, 15, 16
Floriano, ¿, 237 Helena, Lúcia, 109, 234n22
folklore, 96, 181-83, 185-86, 204-19 Hemingway, Ernest, 44
Fonseca, 234n22 Higienópolis, Brazil, 147-48
Formação (Candido), 92, 96 História da literatura brasileira (Ro-
formalism, 18, 23, 35, 89, 96, 103, 107- mero), 84-87, 84n4, 84n5
8, 112 História da literatura brasileira (Veríssi-
Foster, David, 190, 192n22 mo), 85-87, 89
Foucault, Michel, 15, 16, 108, 108n24, História da literatura brasileira: Seus
110 fundamentos econômicos (Sodré), 89,
Fourth National Conference of Nation- 89n7, 100-102
al History, 78 História do modernismo brasileiro
France, 186-87, 233-34, 235, 239-40 (Brito), 92-93
France, Anatole, 85-86 historicism, 104-7, 111
Franco, Afonso Arinos de Melo, 63, 68, historiography. See literary historiogra-
180 phy
Franco, Francisco de Assis, 256, history, 254-62 (see also literary histori-
256n39 ography)
Freemasonry, 191-92, 194, 218 Holanda, Sérgio Buarque de, 175n3,
Freyre, Gilberto, 64n31, 140, 140n19 199, 236-37, 237n26
Fundação Getúlio Vargas, 49, 49n15 Hollanda, Sérgio Buarque de, 23-
Furtado, Celso, 125n6 24n13, 68
Futurism, 186, 229 “O homem do pau brasil” (Carlos
Drummond de Andrade), 235-36
García Canclini, Nestor, 13, 14-15, 19, Horkheimer, Max, 15
46 Huidobro, Vicente, 105, 206
Gargantua and Pantagruel (Rabelais), humor, 27, 28, 103n17, 242, 260-61
104n21 Hutcheon, Linda, 109-10, 190; Irony’s
generation of 1870s, 151 Edge, 110-11; A Theory of Parody,
geographical determinism, 26, 84-85, 110
84n5, 152-53, 156-58, 169, 170-71 hybridity, 183, 225, 229
“Ideal bandeirante” (Oswald de An- irony, 23, 28, 107-11, 113, 189-92, 215-
drade), 258-59, 261 16, 242, 260-61
Idealism, 95 Irony’s Edge (Hutcheon), 110-11
ideology, 46-48, 46n13, 58-59, 97, 112, isolation, 152, 157, 157n40, 159-60,
121-72 164, 165n43
Imagined Communities (Anderson), 206 Italians, 127-28, 128n8, 198
immigrants, 126-29, 129n9, 130n12, 132- Italy, 135
33, 142, 218, 265; Bandeirantes and, Ivo, Lêvo, Modernismo e modernidade,
196-98; immigration laws, 135; Ital- 48-49
ians, 198-201; paulistas and, 196-98
imperialism, cultural, 105 Jacobins, 28, 28n17
Import Substituting Industrialization Jeanneret, Charles Edouard, 187 (see al-
(ISI), 125n6 so Le Corbusier); “After Cubism”,
Import Substitution, 125, 125n6, 129- 187
30, 130n12, 132 Jesuit missions, 165
Impressionism, 46n13 Johnson, Randal, 50-51, 87; “As re-
Indicações políticas (Lima), 60-61 lações sociais da produção literãria”,
individualism, 14-15 35, 35n6
industrialists, 127-34, 129n10, 130n12 O Jornal, 69n36, 77, 207-8, 224
industrialization, 127-34, 218, 224 Jornal do Brasil, 104n19
“As infibraturas do Ipiranga” (Mário de José Olympio Editora, 19n10, 45, 89n7
Andrade), 189 Joyce, James, 106
“Inspiração” (Mário de Andrade), 189
Instituto de Artes of the Universidade Kant, Immanuel, 225
do Distrito Federal, 179-80 Karsavina, Tamara, 203, 203n28
Instituto Nacional do Cinema Educati- Klaxon, 144, 144-45n25, 147
vo (INCE), 58 Kristeva, Julia, 110
Instituto Nacional do Livro, 179
Instituto Nacional do Livro (INL), 57 labor: immigrant, 132-33; labor move-
Integralismo, 59, 59n27, 60-61 ment, 133, 133n13
Integralista Party, 60, 61, 64 Lafetá, João Luiz, 1930: A crítica e o
“Intelectuais brasileiros” (Miceli), modernismo, 46-48, 46n13, 47n14,
53n20 52n19
Intelectuais e classe dirigente no Brasil language, 96, 107-8, 113, 209; avant-
(Miceli), 48-51, 50n17, 52n19, 53-55, garde, 113, 115; Brazilian, 34; vernac-
53n20, 54n21, 96n13 ular, 185-86
“O intellectual modernista revisitado” Lanson, Gustave, 85-86
(Santiago), 51 Lara, Cecília de, 123n4, 144-45n25
intellectuals, 19-20, 19n10, 22-24, 23- “La tradición de la ruptura” (Paz), 18
24n13, 33-34, 36-37, 43, 48-49, 76, Le Corbusier, 149, 187
102; as arbiters, 73, 73-74n38; attacks legitimation, 20-21, 36-37, 53-55, 68,
on, 64, 64n31; Catholic, 64-65; class 87, 107
and, 61-62; conservative, 52, 52n19, Leite, Maria, 256-57
60-61, 64-65; field of power and, 81- Lemaître, Jules, 85-86
82, 81n2; leftist, 61, 63n30, 64; mod- Levi, Darrel E., 132, 135
ernist, 59-60, 263-64; nation-building Levine, Robert, 64n31
and, 55-65; the state and, 38, 50-51, Liberalism, 37, 59-61, 132, 166, 169
50n17, 53, 55-57, 59-63, 63n30, 79, Lima, Alceu Amoroso, 22, 38, 46,
93, 263-64; universities and, 68; in 46n13, 52n19, 63-68, 73-74n38, 88n6,
the Vargas administration, 61-63 89-90, 93, 98-102, 264 (see also
intertextuality, 109-10 Athayde, Tristão de); Contribuição ao
Introdução à literatura brasileira (Lima), história do modernismo: O premo-
77-79, 264 dernismo, 69, 72-73, 264; as “Crítico
INDEX 289
do Modernismo”, 69; Estudos, 69; In- Love, Joseph, 130, 138, 154, 171
dicações políticas, 60-61; Introdução à Lowe, Elizabeth, 189
literatura brasileira, 77-79, 264; Mário Luis, Washington, 135, 141-42
de Andrade and, 193, 195-96, 195n25, Lusitanian heritage, 215-16
207-9, 207n31; Oswald de Andrade Lyotard, Jean François, 21, 106; The
and, 236, 242, 255; reaction to Mário Postmodern Condition, 36-37
de Andrade’s O movimento mo-
dernista, 76-77; Vargas administration Machado, Alcântara, 97, 145, 177,
and, 77-78 227n14
Lima, Henrique da Rocha, 178 Machado, José de Alcântara, 23-24n13
Lima, Jorge de, 45 Machado de Assis, Joaquim Maria, 86
Lima, Luís Costa, 92 Macunaíma (Mário de Andrade), 44,
Lima, Maria Tereza de Almeida Lima, 105, 105n23, 206
51n18 Maia, Prestes, 179
Lins, Álvaro, 91, 93 Malard, Letícia, 89
Lins do Rego, José, 41, 44, 97 Malfatti, Anita, 39, 39n9, 176
Lispector, Clarice, 105 Mallarmé, Stéphane, 106
literary criticism. See criticism mamalucos, 157, 157n41, 158-59, 163,
literary historians, 88-96, 94-95 168, 171, 246
literary historiography, 18, 20-23, “Manifesto Antropofágico” (Oswald de
20n11, 29, 36n8, 38, 51, 72-74, 80- Andrade), 35n7, 104n21, 220
117, 263-64; of the 1950s, 88-96, “Manifesto da poesia Pau-Brasil” (Os-
88n6, 91, 104n18; aesthecized dis- wald de Andrade), 27, 35n7, 146-47,
course of, 97-98; anthologization 220, 224, 228-30, 255, 267
and, 70-71; Brazilian, 82-83; canon- manifestos, 13-14, 13-14n1, 35n7, 102
ization of modernism and, 80-117; (see also specific manifestos)
criticism and, 33-35, 34n5; diachron- Marinetti, Filippo, 186
ic vs. synchronic, 104-5, 106-7; dis- Mário de Andrade: Ramais e caminho
course of, 103-4; early stages of, 71- (Lopez), 193-94, 194n24, 197-98
72; educational system and, 95;
Martins, Heitor, 239-40
formalist approach, 85-86, 96, 103;
Martins, Oliveira, 151
functions of, 83-88; methodological
Martins, Wilson, 69n36, 92, 92n10,
approaches, 83-88, 88n6, 96-97, 103-
104n18
4; national identity and, 82-83, 84-88;
self-legitimation of, 87; sociological, Martius, Carl Friedrich Philipp Von,
84-85, 86; theoretical approaches, 152
88n6, 96-97; as vehicle of nationalis- “O martyrio do café” (Prado), 136-38,
tic discourse, 87-88 139n17, 156, 162, 208, 251
literary history, 80-81, 82-83, 104n18 Marxism, 98, 100-102
(see also literary historiography) Matarazzo, Francisco, 127
A literatura brasileira: Origens e unidade materialism, 60-61, 125-26, 224-25, 226
(Castello), 82-83 Mato Grosso, Brazil, 199, 206
A literatura brasiliera: O pré-modernis- Matos, Gregório de, 104n20, 105
mo (Bosi), 100n14 Memórias sentimentais de João Miramar
A literatura no Brasil (Coutinho), 90, (Oswald de Andrade), 44, 220
91-92 Mendes, Murilo, 45
Lobato, Monteiro, 144, 145-46, 146n26, Mesquita Filho, Júlio de, 37, 178
147; “A propósito da exposição Mal- meta-discourse, 20
fatti”, 39n9 metanarrative, 21, 22, 36-38, 43, 98,
“Loide brasiliero” (Oswald de An- 263, 264
drade), 226 “Metaphysics of Coffee” (Cendrars),
Lopez, Telê Ancona, 188, 193; Mário de 224-25, 250-51
Andrade: Ramais e caminho, 193-94, Miceli, Sérgio, 54n21, 61-62, 237n27;
194n24, 197-98 “Intelectuais brasileiros”, 53n20; In-
telectuais e classe dirigente no Brasil, tive of, 36-38, 43, 103-4; phases of,
48-51, 50n17, 52n19, 53-55, 53n20, 39-41, 46; promotion of, 69n36; re-
54n21, 96n13 evaluation of, 48-49; resistance and,
military dictatorship, 221, 221n6 103-11; as revolution, 18, 18n7, 96-
Milliet, Sérgio, 22, 38, 41, 73-74n38, 103; as rupture, 18, 18n7, 98, 100,
88n6, 93, 97, 144, 144-45n25, 102, 103-11; second phase of, 44; tra-
149n33, 150, 178, 232n20, 264; dition and, 51-52, 92n11, 107-9; Var-
Panorama da moderna poesia gas administration and, 55-65
brasileira, 69, 72, 92 “O modernismo” (Oswald de An-
Minas Gerais, Brazil, 23-24n13, 27, 49, drade), 39n10
61, 144, 153, 171, 225, 227, 245n33; “Modernismo” (Mário de Andrade), 75
Bandeirismo and, 204-19, 255-57; “Modernismo: As poéticas do centra-
colonial era in, 177; elites in, 61n29, mento e do descentramento” (San-
135-36; mining and, 245-46, 251-52; t’Anna), 107-8
“Rediscovery Tour” of, 224 Modernismo e modernidade (Ivo), 48-49
mining, 153n39, 157, 212, 243, 245-46, modernist movement, 13, 19, 26, 28-29,
251-52 36, 59-60, 66, 93, 263-64, 268 (see al-
Ministério da Educação e Saúde so Modernism); avant-garde and,
(MES), 56, 57, 64-65, 69, 72 115-17; beginning of, 39; canoniza-
Ministério da Justiça e Negócios Interi- tion of, 68-79; class and, 124-27; defi-
ores, 63 nition of, 83; democratization and,
Ministry of Education Press, 69 65; historicization of, 68-79; legitima-
Ministry of Foreign Relations, 150 tion and, 53-54; manifestos of, 35n7,
miscegenation, 157, 158-59, 161-72, 102. see also specific manifetos; Mário
165n43 de Andrade and, 116-17; nation-
Missão de pesquisas folclóricas (Mário de building and, 63n30; Oswald de An-
Andrade), 183 drade and, 116-17; Prado and, 116-
Modernism, 13-14, 15n2, 17-20, 33-36, 17, 123, 135; as revolution, 33, 93; as
34n5, 47n14, 83, 266, 266n1 (see also rupture, 51-52, 102; in São Paulo,
modernist movement); in the 1920s Brazil, 23-24n13, 23-26, 59, 116-17,
and 1930s, 38-48, 52, 58, 96n13; in 124-27; self-aggrandizement of, 29;
the 1940s, 45, 58; in the 1970s, 48-49; self-legitimation of, 102; social and
aesthetic criticism and, 39n9, 46-48; economic basis of, 124-27; the state
aristocracy and, 48-49; canonization and, 38, 50-51, 50n17, 53, 55-57, 59-
of, 15n2, 37-38, 55, 65, 68-79, 73- 63, 63n30, 79, 93, 263-64; universi-
74n38, 80-117, 88, 103, 263-64; class ties and, 68; Vargas administration
and, 48-49, 50n17, 52, 100-102, 117; and, 55-65
as combative counter movement, 99- modernity, 13-14, 18-19, 47n14, 113,
100; conservative discourse within, 116, 211-13, 263, 269; atavistic, 220-
52, 52n19; definition of, 21-23, 28- 62; critique of, 15-17, 18, 21; democ-
29, 33-36, 34n5, 68, 83, 97, 125; defi- ratization and, 180-81; emancipation
nitions of, 98; discourse of origin and, 14-17; Mário de Andrade and,
and, 112-17; early phase of, 39-41; 181, 204, 217-19; Oswald de An-
educational system and, 68-69; eman- drade and, 223-28, 248-49; primi-
cipation and, 106-7; heroic image of, tivism and, 223-28; tradition and, 268
36-38, 97; heterogeneity and, 107-8; modernization, 14-15, 19, 218, 224-25,
historicization of, 20-21, 20n11, 68- 239, 265
79; ideology and, 58-59, 97; imma- “modernophobia”, 181-86
nentist view of, 43-44; institutional- Modinhas imperiais (Mário de An-
ization of, 21-22, 22n12, 28-29, 53, drade), 181n12
54, 77-79, 92n11, 97, 103-4; legitima- Moisés, Massaud, 104n18
tion of, 36-38, 55, 68; literary patri- Monções, 176, 176n4
mony and, 88, 92n11, 96; metanarra- Moraes, Marcos Antonio de, 144n24
INDEX 291
Morais, Dona Maria Luísa, 176 224-25, 243, 255, 266-67; Ban-
Morais, Eneida de, 63-64 deirantes and, 204-19; Catholicism in,
Morais, Rubens Borba de, 69, 178 216-18; irony in, 215-16; melancholia
Morais Filho, Prudente de, 175n3 in, 216; modernity in, 217-19; nation-
A morta (Oswald de Andrade), 220n2 al identity in, 217-19; Romanticism
Mota, Artur, 89 in, 217; tradition in, 217-19
Motta Filho, Candido, 50n17 Nunes, Benedicto, 229, 229n16, 230,
O movimento modernista (Mário de An- 234, 234n22, 234n23
drade), 39-41, 43, 69, 74-77, 126-27
multiculturalism, 81, 189n20 “Ode ao burguês” (Mário de Andrade),
Municipal Theater, ?, 39, 142 189
music, 52-53, 183-85 oligarchy. See aristocracy
Música de feitiçaria (Mário de An- Olinto, Antônio, 92
drade), 181n12 Oliveira, Armando Sales de, 178
Oliveira, Franklin de, 92
Nabucco, Carolina, 63 Oliveira, Lúcia Lippi de, 59-60, 59n28
Nabuco, Joaquim, 151 Oliveira, Vera Lúcia de, ?, 234n22
Namoros com a medicina (Mário de An- O’Neil, Charles, 66-67
drade), 181n12 A Ordem, 64, 77
national culture, 56, 144, 183-84, 185- Orfeu extático na metrópole (Sevcenko),
86, 204-19, 266-67 52
national history, 258 origins, discourse of, 23-24, 112-17
national identity, 52, 82, 123n4; canon “Ouchy Agreement”, 135
formation and, 95; discourse of, 34; Ozenfant, Amédée, 187; “After Cu-
literary historiography and, 82-83, bism”, 187
84-88; Mário de Andrade and, 180-
86, 193, 204-19, 217-19; Oswald de Pais, Fernão Dias, 257-59; ¿, 256-57
Andrade and, 240; Prado and, 162 “Paisagem” (Oswald de Andrade), 249
nationalism, 14, 18, 23-24, 27-28, 28n17, “Paisagem n. 2” (Mário de Andrade),
86, 98-99, 113; avant-garde, 115; ban- 197
deirismo and, 254; Mário de Andrade “Paisagem n. 4” (Mário de Andrade),
and, 173-219, 254-55; musical, 52-53; 189, 202
Oswald de Andrade and, 236, 238, Pais Dias, Fernão, 246, 246n34, 257-59
261; Prado and, 123n4, 132, 136, 141, Panorama da moderna poesia brasileira
144, 160; primitive, 184 (Milliet), 69, 72, 92
nation-building, 53, 55-65, 63n30 Paraíba Valley, 134-35n14
Naturalism, 171 Parnassianism, 33-34, 37, 46, 186, 188
Neo-Hegelian Idealism, 95 parody, 23, 28, 107-10, 108n24, 109n26,
neo-realism, 19n10, 44, 45 267; rupture and, 108
Neto, Prudente de Morais, 68, 236-37, Partido Democrático (PD), 58, 59, 135-
237n26 36, 177, 178, 180, 227n14
New Barbarians, 106 Partido Republicano Paulista (PRP),
New Criticism, 90, 92n10, 95, 96, 98, 58, 59, 135-36, 142, 227n14
107, 110 patrimony, literary, 88, 92n11, 96
Niemeyer, Oscar, 64n31 patriotism, 52-53, 98-99
Nijinsky, 202-3, 203n28 patronage, 19-20, 53-55, 121-72, 122,
Noigandres group, 83, 83n3, 104, 107, 123, 140-51, 170
109, 221, 222 Pau-Brasil (Oswald de Andrade), 27-28,
Noland, Carrie, 224, 225, 233 27n16, 123, 206, 220-62, 231-32n19,
Nonê, 205 232n20, 237n26, 267 (see also Pau-
the Northeast, 49, 97 Brasil project); Bandeirantes in, 251,
“Noturno de Belo Horizonte” (Mário 254-55; Bandeira on, 144-48, 146n26-
de Andrade), 26-27, 175, 175n3, 177, 46n28, 241; class in, 260, 261-62; cof-
fee trade in, 243-52; colonial era in, Penteado, Olívia Guedes, 121n2, 135,
246-48, 258; discourse of origin and, 148, 148n30, 205
267; divided reception of, 230-40; Penteado family, 148
economics in, 242-43, 260; history in, Pereira, Lúcia Miguel, 41-43, 48, 91
254-62; humor in, 242, 260-61; imma- periodicals. See publications
nence in, 240-54; irony in, 242, 260- “Permanência do discurso da tradição”
61; Mário de Andrade and, 235; (Santiago), 108-9
modernity in, 248-49; modernization “A permanência do discurso da
and, 239; nationalism in, 27-28, tradição no modernismo” (Santiago),
27n16; optimism in, 242-43; parody 51
in, 267; poetic language of, 238-39, Perrone, Charles, 188, 190
257, 261; preface to, 123, 227, The Philosophical Discourse of Moderni-
229n15, 237, 238; presence and imma- ty (Habermas), 15-16
nence in, 240-54; presence in, 240-54; Pignatari, Décio, 104, 109n25, 221, 226
reception of, 230-40; “São Martinho”, pioneers, 23-24n13, 24
240-54, 260; São Paulo, Brazil, in, Placer, Xavier, 92
251-54; tradition and, 267 “Pobre alimária” (Oswald de Andrade),
Pau-Brasil project, 222-30, 222n7, 239
229n16, 231-32n19, 262, 267; de- “Poemas da colonização” (Oswald de
mocratization and, 238-39; divided Andrade), 225-26, 236, 257-58
reception of, 230-40; reception of, Poesia, antipoesia, antropofagia (Augus-
239 to de Campose), 104n20
Paulicéia desvairada (Mário de An- Poesia concreta, 83n3, 104, 107,
drade), 26, 39n10, 175, 177, 186-204, 109n25, 221, 221n5
189n20, 205, 218, 255, 266-67; aris- “Poesia Pau-Brasil” (Bandeira), 146-47
tocracy in, 198; Bandeirantes in, 198- “Uma poética da radicalidade” (Harol-
203; cityscape in, 189-91, 192n22, do de Campos), 222n8
193, 204; class in, 198-203; coffee poetry, 26-27, 34n4, 111, 258, 266 (see
aristocracy in, 198; immigrants in, also Poesia concreta; specific authors;
196-201; irony in, 189-92; modernity specific movements); in the 1920s and
in, 204; modernization of literary dis- 1930s, 44-45; anthologization of, 69-
course and, 192-93, 192n22; mood 72; literary criticism and, 70-71; re-
of, 188; multiculturalism in, 189n20; gionalist poetry, 207-8
nationalism in, 189-90; theme of the Poggioli, Renato, 112, 206
Harlequin in, 188, 190, 192, 198; tra- Política dos Governadores, 61, 61n29
dition in, 196-97 politics, cultural, 19-20, 53-54, 121-33,
Paulista Railway, 131 135, 141, 144
paulistas, 23-24n13, 23-25, 115-17, 269; polygenists, 152, 152n37
hegemony of, 151-61, 265, 268; im- popular culture, 34, 181-86, 204-19 (see
migrants and, 196-98; isolation of, also folklore; national culture)
157, 157n40, 160-61, 164; Mário de Portinari, Cândido, 64n31, 68, 148
Andrade and, 199, 204-19; Oswald Porto Feliz, Brazil, 176
de Andrade and, 245n33, 254-61; Portugal, 86
paulista culture, 174; paulista type, Portuguese, 158
254-55; Prado and, 157-59, 163-64, Portuguese culture, 183
168, 171 Positivism, 37
Paulística (Prado), 26, 122-23, 122n3, “Postes da Light” (Oswald de An-
136-38, 139n17, 151-61, 153n39, 162, drade), 239, 259
164, 177, 205, 206-10, 224-25, The Postmodern Condition (Lyotard),
246n34, 251 36-37
Paz, Octavio, 105; “La tradición de la postmodernism, 16, 18
ruptura”, 18, 113 post-structuralism, 16, 18, 110
Pécaut, Daniel, 61-62 Pound, Ezra, 106
INDEX 293
power, 54 Prado, Paulo, works of: adaptation of

Prado, Antônio, 127-28, 131, 135, 138- Arinos’ O contratador de diamantes,
39, 142, 177 143-44; “Brecheret”, 123n4; “O cam-
Prado, Fábio, 178, 180 inho das Minas”, 153n39, 206-7; “O
Prado, Martinico, 131 caminho do mar”, 156-59; “O Con-
Prado, Paulo, 23-24, 23-24n13, 28, vênio Franco-Brasileiro”, 139-40; “O
123n5, 129n10, 143n22, 150n35, 177, martyrio do café“, 136-38, 139n17,
205, 225, 258n40, 263-65, 268-69 (see 156, 162, 208, 251; Paulística, 122-23,
also Prado, Paulo, works of); as art 122n3, 136-38, 139n17, 151-61,
collector, 237n27; aspirations of, 136; 153n39, 162, 164, 177, 205, 206-10,
Bandeirantes and, 151-65, 168, 171, 224-25, 246n34, 251; preface to Os-
177, 246, 246n34; biography of, wald de Andrade’s Pau-Brasil, 123,
121n1; on blacks, 167-68; on capital 227, 229n15, 237, 238; Retrato do
sins of Brazilians, 162; Cendrars and, Brasil, 25-26, 122, 123, 139n17,
148-50, 149n32, 149n33; coffee aris- 157n40, 161-62n42, 161-72, 251; “To-
tocracy and, 122-24, 127-35, 151, 170, da América”, 123n4; writings against
255; coffee trade and, 127-35, 151, the government, 134
170, 265; colonialism and, 164-65; Prado, Yan de Almeida, 144-45n25, 150
corruption and, 155-56, 166-67n44; Prado family, 143n22, 147-48, 224n12,
criticism of the aristocracy, 135-36; as 242, 242n29, 247, 251
cultural ambassador, 150-51, 170; as Prebish, Raúl, 125n6
cultural entrepreneur, 264-66; Depar- “Prefácio interessantíssimo” (Mário de
tamento de Cultura de São Paulo and, Andrade), 35n7, 182n13, 186,
178; determinism and, 152-55, 156-59, 189n20
161, 169, 170-71, 265; elites and, 155- premodernismo, 72
57; endorsements by, 148; as farmer, Presença da literatura brasileira (Candi-
153-54, 156; geographical determin- do and Castello), 92n11
ism and, 156-58, 169, 170-71; as histo- preservation, 88
rian, 151-72, 265-66; impressionistic Primeiro caderno do aluno de poesia Os-
approach, 161-62n42; investment in wald de Andrade (Oswald de An-
periodicals, 144-46, 148; Klaxon and, drade), 220
144, 144-45n25, 147; library of, 148; primitivism, 23-27, 83, 188 (see also
Mária de Andrade and, 175, 177, atavism); avant-garde and, 113-14;
177n6, 180; Mário de Andrade and, Mário de Andrade and, 185-86, 205-
227, 227n14; miscegenation and, 161- 6; modernity and, 223-28; Oswald de
72, 165n43; modernist movement Andrade and, 223-28, 227-33,
and, 116-17, 121-72; modernity and, 234n22, 236-37
116; multiple faces of, 134-40; nation- “Prosperidade” (Oswald de Andrade),
al identity and, 123n4, 162; national- 242-43, 249, 259
ism and, 136; obituary of, 140, protectionism, 132
140n19; Oswald de Andrade and, Protestantism, 194, 218
224, 227, 227n14, 237, 238; as patron, publications, 23, 90, 144-45n25, 144-
170; patronage and, 140-51, 170; pub- 46, 144n23, 177 (see also specific pub-
lishing industry and, 144-48; racial de- lications)
terminism and, 156-59, 161-72; racial publishing industry, 19, 19n10, 45, 57,
theories and, 161-72, 165n43; Revista 65, 65n33
Nova and, 145; Romanticism and, Purist movement, 186-87, 229
166; salons and, 147-48, 147n29; São
Paulo, Brazil, and, 265; separatism of, Queiroz, Rachel de, 44, 63-64, 97
208, 265; Terra-Roxa e Outras Terras
and, 144-45; valorization and, 136-40, Rabelais, François, Gargantua and Pan-
139n17; Vargas administration and, tagruel, 104n21
255; Week of Modern Art, February Rabelais and His World (Bakhtin),
11-18, 1922 and, 135, 141, 147 104n21
racial determinism, 26, 151-72, 152n37 Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 45, 134-35n14,
racial theories, 84-86, 152-53, 152n37, 143, 176; Encilhamento scandal in,
156-59, 161-72, 165n43, 167n45, 137n16; publishing industry in, 90;
168n46 (see also racial determinism) Tenentismo in, 102n16
radio, 103n17 Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil, 49
Ramos, Graciliano, 44, 63, 97 Rockefeller Foundation, 178
Ramos, Péricles Eugênio de Silva, 91 Roig, Adrien, 196
Rao, Vicente, 63 Romanticism, 92, 114, 162, 166, 217
rationalization, 14-15 Romero, Sílvio, 83, 86, 89; História da
Ratzel, Friedrich, 152 literatura brasileira, 84-87, 84n4,
reading, 19n10 84n5
ready-mades, 240, 257-58 Rosa, Guimarães, 104n20, 105
realism, 37 (see also neo-realism) Rosenberg, Fernando, 116
redemption, 13-14n1, 18 Rosenberg, Harold, The Tradition of the
regionalism, 44, 96, 207-8, 209 New, 18
O rei da vela (Oswald de Andrade), “Roteiro de Minas” (Oswald de Cam-
220n2 pos), 255, 257
“Religião” (Mário de Andrade), 189n20, A ruptura dos gêneros (Haroldo de
190-96, 192n21, 203 Campos), 104n20, 105n22
As religiões no Rio (Barreto), 193n3 rupture, 18n7, 20n11, 21-23, 28-29, 33-
religion, 96, 191-96, 193n3, 195n25, 35, 51-52, 83, 98, 100-111, 263, 268;
196n26 (see also specific religions) Mário de Andrade and, 174, 218-19;
La Renaissance de l’Art Français et des Oswald de Andrade and, 222; parody
and, 108
Industries de Luxe, 149-50
Russian Formalism, 95, 107
Renan, Ernst, 152, 171
renovation, 14, 19, 20
“Sabará” (Oswald de Andrade), 255-57
repression, 63-64
Sabará, Brazil, 256
República Velha period, 132
Salgado, Plínio, 52, 59n27, 60, 64, 97,
Resende, Beatriz, “Brazilian Mod-
237
ernism: The Canonised Revolution”, Saliba, Elias Thomé, 103, 103n17
73n37 salons, 147-48, 147n29
resistance, 103-11 O samba rural paulista (Mário de An-
“Rethinking the Theory of the Avant- drade), 181n12
Garde from the Periphery” (Yúdice), Sans Pareil, 224
125-26 Sant’Anna, Affonso Romano de, “Mo-
Retrato do Brasil (Prado), 26, 122-23, dernismo: As poéticas do centramen-
139n17, 156, 157n40, 161-62n42, to e do descentramento”, 107-8
161-72, 251 Santiago, Silviano, 51-52; “Fechado
Revista do Brasil, 123, 123n4, 144, para balanço: Sessenta anos de mo-
144n23, 144n24 dernismo”, 51, 63n30; “O intellectual
Revista Nova, 145, 177 modernista revisitado”, 51; “Per-
Revolta dos 18 do Forte de Copacabana, manência do discurso da tradição”,
102n16 108-9; “A permanência do discurso
Revolução Constitutionalista, 160, 161, da tradição no modernismo”, 51
177 “São Martinho” (Oswald de Andrade),
Revolução de 1924, 102n16 222-23, 227, 240-54, 260
Revolução de 1930, ?, 55, 59, 59n28 São Martinho farm, 149, 224, 224n12,
Ricardo, Cassiano, 23-24n13, 50, 52, 56, 224n13, 225, 242, 242n29, 247
59, 97, 237 São Paulo, Brazil, 21, 23-24, 23-24n13,
Riedel, Dirce Cortes, 91-92 27-28, 48-49, 61, 103n17, 176, 210-11,
Rio, João do, 73 245n33, 261, 268; in the 1920s and
Rio Claro Railway, 131 1930s, 38-48, 52, 121-72, 157n40; aris-
INDEX 295
tocracy in, 135-36; avant-garde in, 38- brasileira: Seus fundamentos econômi-
39, 39n9, 121-22; coffee aristocracy in, cos, 89, 89n7, 100-102
134-35, 141-42; coffee trade in, 245; Sousândrade, 105
colonial era in, 177; elites in, 57, Spencer, Herbert, 84, 153
61n29, 125, 126-35, 255, 265; history Spyx, Johan Baptist von, 152n36
of, 116, 227; industrialization in, 124, Spyx, Martius von, 152n36
125, 127-34, 218; invaded and occu- standarization, 88
pied by Federal troops, 133; labor the state, 37, 50-51, 55, 63n30; intellec-
movement in, 133, 133n13; modernist tuals and, 38, 50-51, 50n17, 53, 55-
movement in, 59, 116-17, 121n2, 124, 63, 63n30, 79, 93, 263-64; state cul-
124-27; modernization of, 218; in Pau- tural apparatuses, 37-38, 57-58,
Brasil, 251-54; Prado and, 265; pub- 62-63, 77-79, 82, 88, 150
lishing industry in, 90; Tenentismo in, Steinbeck, John, 44
102n16 Stepan, Nancy Leys, 167n45, 168n46
São Paulo State Police, 133 Structuralism, 107, 110
São Vicente, 157, 214 (see also São Suarez, 192n22
Paulo, Brazil) Surrealism, 114
Saraiva, 90 surrealism, 206
Schmidt, Augusto Frederico, 45 Surrealism, 229
Schwarcz, Lilia, 84n5, 152 Sussekind, Flora, 102; Cinematógrafo,
Schwartz, Richard, 106 103n17
Schwartzman, Simon, 56, 67 symbolic violence, 87
Schwarz, Roberto, 221, 239, 248n35, Symbolist poetry, 34n4, 186, 188
260, 261-62
secularization, 14, 15, 19 Taine, Hippolyte, 84, 152, 156, 162, 171
Seitler, Dana, 24-25 Taunay, Afonso d’E., 23-24n13
self-legitimation, 36-37, 55, 73, 73- taxation, 136-40, 139n17
74n38, 102, 107 Teatro Municipal de São Paulo, 144
self-reflexivity, 23, 112, 113, 115, 116 technical standards, 105-6
Semiotics, 107 Teles, Gilberto Mendonça, 13-14n1
separatism, 208 Telles, Godofredo Silva, 205
Serafim Ponte Grande (Oswald de An- temporality, 113
drade), 220 Tenentismo, 102, 102n16
Serviço de Radiodifusão Educativa Terra-Roxa e Outras Terras, 123, 123n4,
(SRE), 57-58 144-45
Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico e A Theory of Parody (Hutcheon), 110
Artístico Nacional (SPHAN), 57, 77- Thiollier, René, 205
78, 100, 180-82, 182n13, 264 third world literature, 106, 107
Sevcenko, Nicolau, 52n19, 56, 102-3, “Tietê” (Mário de Andrade), 197, 199
103n17; Orfeu extático na metrópole, Tietê, Tejo, Sena: A obra de Paulo Prado
52 (Berriel), 122
Silva, Marcelo José da, 92n10 Tiradentes, 214, 214n33, 237
Simon, Iumma, 189, 198 Tomlins, Jack, 188, 189n20, 192n22
Skidmore, Thomas, 167n45, 168n46 Torgovnick, Marianna, 113
Sobral, Mário (see also Andrade, Mário “La tradición de la ruptura” (Paz), 113
de), Há uma gota de sangue em cada tradition, 18, 81, 82, 111; avant-garde
poema, 186 and, 206-7; Mário de Andrade and,
social control, 168 196-97, 217-19; Modernism and, 51-
Social Darwinism, 153, 170 52, 51n18, 107-9; modernity and,
Socialism, 44, 60, 61, 64 268; Oswald de Andrade and, 267
Sodré, Nelson, 88n6 The Tradition of the New (Harold
Sodré, Nelson Werneck, 98, 102, Rosenberg), Rosenberg, Harold, 18
102n15, 143n21; História da literatura Treece, David, 189-90
Tribunal de Segurança Nacional (TSN), 57n23; speech of October 1930, 55-

63 56; universities and, 66-67
Trilogia do Exílio (Oswald de Andrade), Vargas administration, 77, 150, 150n35,
220, 220n1 161, 187, 255, 263-64; intellectuals in,
“Tristura” (Mário de Andrade), 189 61-63; modernist movement and, 55-65
Tropicália, 221n5 Vasco Porcallho & Co., 147
Tropicalista movement, 221 Velosa, Caetano, 221n5
“Tu” (Mário de Andrade), 197 Verdeamarelo group, 97, 237
O turista aprendiz (Mário de Andrade), Veríssimo, José, 83, 89, 96; História da
148, 148n30, 169, 181 literatura brasileira, 85-87, 89
Vianna, Oliveira, 52
Universidade do Brasil, 67 Vieira, Antônio, 193
Universidade do Distrito Federal Villa-Lobos, Heitor, 52, 68, 185
(UDF), 67-68, 179-80 violence, symbolic, 87
Universidade of Minas Gerais, 66
Universidade of Rio de Janeiro, 66 Wagner, Mortiz, 152-53, 157, 157n40
Universidade of São Paulo, 37, 65-68, Weber, Max, 15, 15n2, 19
178 Week of Modern Art, 39
universities, 20-21, 37-38, 65-68, 263 Week of Modern Art, February 11-18,
(see also specific universities); Catholi- 1922, 39n10, 52, 55, 58, 69, 72, 92-
cism and, 67; class and, 66; intellec- 93, 123n5, 135, 141-43, 147
tuals and, 68, 95; modernists and, 68; Whately, Maria Celina, 59-60, 59n28
Vargas administration and, 66-67 White, Hayden, 71, 111
Unruh, Vicky, 114-15, 206 Wilde, Oscar, 220
urban landscape, 26 Williams, Daryle, 53n20, 56-57, 58,
utopianism, 14 58n26
Wisnik, José Miguel, 182-83; O coro dos
valorization, 132-33, 136-40, 139n17 contrários, 52; “Getúlio da Paixão
Vargas, Getúlio, 20, 49, 51, 53n20, 55- Cearense”, 52
65, 160, 177, 255, 263-64 (see also World War I, 187
Vargas administration); educational
system and, 66-67; first Vargas Xavier, Joaquim José da Silva, 214,
regime (1930-1945), 57-58; intellec- 214n33
tuals and, 55-65; investments in cul-
ture and education, 57-58; modernist Yúdice, George, 129; “Rethinking the
movement and, 55-65; nation-build- Theory of the Avant-Garde from the
ing and, 53, 55-65; re-election of, Periphery”, 125-26

The Triumph of Brazilian Modernism

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

The Triumph of Brazilian Modernism

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

The Triumph of Brazilian Modernism

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA AT CHAPEL HILL

DEPARTMENT OF ROMANCE LANGUAGES

NORTH CAROLINA STUDIES

Founder: URBAN TIGNER HOLMES

Editor: FRANK A. DOMÍNGUEZ

UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS

THE TRIUMPH OF BRAZILIAN

French Spanish & Spanish-American

NORTH CAROLINA STUDIES IN THE ROMANCE

Cover: Photograph by Clóvis Testa of the Bandeiras Monument at the entrance

© 2013. Department of Romance Languages. The University of North Carolina

ARTES GRÁFICAS SOLER, S. L. - LA OLIVERETA, 28 - 46018 VALENCIA

PART ONE: THE METANARRATIVE OF EMANCIPATION

CHAPTER ONE: THE BUILDING PROCESS: LEGITIMATION AND SELF-

CHAPTER TWO: LITERARY HISTORIOGRAPHY AND THE CANONIZATION

PART TWO: COUNTER-NARRATIVES

CHAPTER THREE: PAULO PRADO AND THE MODERNISTS: PRIVATE

CHAPTER FOUR: MÁRIO DE ANDRADE AND THE QUEST FOR THE

CHAPTER FIVE: ATAVISTIC MODERNITY IN OSWALD DE

CONCLUSION ....................................................................................... 263

WORKS CITED ...................................................................................... 271

like to thank all those who helped me complete this

Portions of chapters in this book had been previously published in

Chapter 2 includes a section that had been published in modified

Chapters 3 and 4 contain sections that had been published as “Pa-

and modernity are related in complex and often

Their utopian/nationalist propositions in this discourse are aimed

ject,” which is the most utopian element of cultural modernization,

end-goal of modernity has ever been accomplished. What authors

Não se pode falar em socialização ou coletivização da cultura

One cannot talk about socialization or collectivization of artistic

It is obvious, as Candido points out, that the modernist utopia

When studying the process of cultural modernization in Brazil

market and the diversification and specialization of the intellectual

the relationship between intellectuals and the state during the

inform literary historiography in Brazil, the main function of the

recurrence of the past in the present, a recurrence that is specifi-

The atavism of the São Paulo modernists is also partly grounded on

tionist stance. I offer an analysis of Prado’s ideas in the essays pub-

tainly played a role in this new attitude of reverence for historical

ernism. It is also a critique of the time-bound conventions that

THE BUILDING PROCESS:

the traditional scholarship and historiography on Brazilian

criticized or dismissed as superficial, verbose, and subservient to

This particular feature of criticism and historiography has al-

intended to restore a measure of unity, coherence, and cohesiveness

while the notion of emancipation legitimizes the discourse of the

Based on this thesis, I will attempt to demonstrate in this chapter

THE “HEROIC” 1920S AND THE “MATURE” 1930S

In this metanarrative it is standard practice to establish a time,

Malfatti’s art exhibition in 1917 is often cited as a key event.9 How-

justo por esta data de 1930, que principia para a Inteligência

subtle assertion of “paternity” and an appropriation of the work

O movimento modernista à história literária pertence já como es-

bre o meio, modificando-o; como revolução, superou a fase des-

The modernist movement belongs, as a style, to literary history,

Pereira juxtaposes several antithetical adjectives in an attempt to

revolution” in the intellectual milieu because it was able to over-

had to exercise their imagination more than their interpretive skills

thetics of Symbolism and classical forms such as the sonnet, espe-