How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
The person of whom I am about to speak is so simple-minded that she often smiles at other people on the street. No one acknowledges her smile for they don't even notice her. (1.19)
When you drive a car, you have to be careful that things don't slip into a spot between the rear view mirror and the side mirrors. That's the car's blind spot. Macabéa essentially lives, with a lot of other marginalized people, in the world's blind spot. They don't see her, so she doesn't exit.
Quote #2
She had been born with a legacy of misfortune, a creature from nowhere with the expression of someone who apologizes for occupying too much space. (3.57)
Pop quiz: name one person in the entire book who's nice to Macabéa. Bet you can't do it. That's because they all pick up on this feeling Macabéa has that she's not even worth being nice to—that her entire existence is a mistake. It's pretty depressing.
Quote #3
No one paid any attention to her on the street, for she was as appetizing as cold coffee. (3.57)
Aside from the fact that cold coffee really isn't that bad (c'mon, haven't you ever heard of an iced Americano?), this quote is depressing because it suggests that you have to be a certain level of attractiveness before you even get to be considered human.
Quote #4
Surely one day she would gain a place in the paradise reserved for misfits. Besides, in her case it simply isn't a question of gaining Paradise. She is a misfit even in this world. I swear that nothing can be done for her. (3.84)
It's funny, because the narrator can't seem to make up his mind whether Macabéa is a total outcast, a misfit, unlike anyone else in the world—or whether she's actually represents each and every one of us. Or are we just a world full of misfits?
Quote #5
How can one disguise the simple fact that the entire world is somewhat sad and lonely? The girl from the North-east was lost in the crowd. (3.106)
So, instead of patting ourselves on the back about how we have 437 Facebook friends, this narrator suggests we should really admit to ourselves that we're all just lost in the crowd. Sure—sometimes our status updates do get lost in the newsfeed.
Quote #6
She had learned from her favourite radio programme that there were seven billion inhabitants in the world. She felt completely lost. But it was in her nature to be happy so she soon resigned herself: there were seven billion inhabitants to keep her company. (4.274)
Talk about turning lemons into lemonade: Macabéa could feel lost in the midst of seven billion indifferent co-planetary residents, but instead she chooses to be happy. Again, perception trumps facts.
Quote #7
Her life was supersonic. Yet no one noticed that she had crossed the sound barrier with her existence. For other people, she didn't exist. (4.304)
Something interesting about "supersonic." Know what happens when you cross the sound barrier? A big ol' sonic boom. Yeah: "Bang."
Quote #8
She preferred to say nothing because Glória was now her only remaining contact with the world. A world that consisted of her aunt, Glória, Senhor Raimundo, and Olímpico—and more remotely, the girls with whom she shared a room. (4.311)
Girl really needs to get a Facebook profile. Macabéa's network is limited to three people—and seven if she really pushes it. But the thing is, having so few connections makes each one precious to her. Even when it's just that jerk, Olímpico.
Quote #9
I can see that I've tried to impose my own situation on Maca: I need several hours of solitude every day, otherwise I die. (4.353)
Well, it's one thing if you choose to isolate yourself, and that's what this narrator has done. He likes time to himself—but solitude isn't quite the same thing as isolation, is it? Solitude sounds peaceful and restorative; isolation sounds lonely and, well, full of existential despair.
Quote #10
Some people appeared from nowhere in the cul-de-sac and gathered round Macabéa. They just stood there doing nothing just as people had always done nothing to help her; except that these people peered at her and this gave her an existence. (5.428)
Get out the hankies, because this is really depressing. Macabéa is alone in death as she is in life. There's no community, no companionship, nothing but absolute, total isolation. Thanks for the uplift, Clarice.