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The rambling first part of the book in which the narrator agonizes over his forthcoming creation had some great moments for me, but I didn't really dig in until his biography of Macabéa began with the story of her meeting with Olímpico. Once I finished, I reread from the beginning up until that point in the book, which was very worthwhile as it put all the machinations of that section into much clearer view.
Lispector's improbable language and structures, her poetic sense, humor, the various themes paradoxically presented in the characterization of a protagonist who's described as sort of an empty vessel made this an appealing read for me. One could analyze Macabéa as, among other interpretations, as something of an enlightened practitioner of Buddhist meditation. This is even hinted at in multiple places. You could see her in other less flattering ways, too. But I think that the narrator's insulting, if affectionate descriptions of her belie a more compelling figure. Lispector plays a lot of games that way. Who knows what's going on and who doesn't? She's created a narrator who's created a protagonist. Does Lispector regard the narrator as he regards himself? Does Lispector regard Macabéa as the narrator regards her?
I find that it's most accessible if I read internally as if I were reading out loud and have the patience to reread the phrases and paragraphs that demand that to make sense of them. I never listen to audio books. For some reason I tend to lose focus. But I could see where this one benefits from a good listening. Lispector is like the avant garde jazz of the latter half of the last century. If you ride with her on her own terms, the journey can be rewarding. If you fight her looking for conventional narrative, it's going to be a frustrating experience.
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