Scholars dedicated to literary theory have, in the last few years, created a heated debate about feminine voice, feminine space, feminist vs. feminine within a seemingly phallocentric society. The debate usually ranges from a passive acceptance of the writings of the major psychoanalytical theorists to the full rejection of their ideas. Ann Rosalind Jones, in her article, «Writing the Body: Toward an Understanding of L'Ecriture Féminine», describes a sub-controversy of the debate, namely, the French theorists' view of feminism (Showalter 361-77). Post-structuralist theory itself is a product of decentering theory. One begins to question all foundations, and, by so doing, questions the basic foundation-language. Language, it is often argued, is a masculine artifice and therefore cannot express «femaleness». The debate will continue to provide us with subject matter for many articles and professional meetings to come. It seems that when discussing writing by women, we fall into this debate whether we like it or not. Thinking through this debate provides the premise for the present paper.

My purpose here is to show that a talented writer who is also a literary critic and professor of literary theory responds to these issues by writing a novel. Indeed, as I have already proposed elsewhere (McClendon 24), I believe that in Brazil today, theory has been driving literature rather than analyzing it. In this study, I will look at Helena Parente Cunha's text as a response to the post-structuralist writers Derrida, Foucault, and Lacan specifically. We will leave for another context the issue of the French theoretical point of view in Brazilian letters. Suffice it to say here that French thought (pre)dominates in Latin America as it does in Anglo America. I believe that Parente Cunha's text itself, the finished product, is one way to express that which is intuitive within the theories, but onerously expressed, since our only recourse is language that, in itself, is an artifice.

When Mulher no espelho appeared in 1983, Helena Parente Cunha had been a Professor of Literary Theory in the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro for fifteen years. The book, her first novel, followed the publication of several volumes of poetry and short stories. In 1982, the manuscript for the novel won the Prêmio Cruz e Sousa, second place in the Concurso Nacional de Romance in Brazil, primarily for its «solid psychological synthesis of woman/women without precedent in Brazilian literature, not merely for its possibly confessional aspect, but also above all its profoundly revelatory qualities, in language immensely suited to its aims» (qtd. in Ellison and Lindstrom v). While I argue that on one level, reading only through feminist theoretical eyes, we see the psychological process of individuation at work, I believe that this text and others by contemporary Brazilian authors, men and women, are more complex and involve other theoretical issues. Therefore, I would like to direct our thought away from the feminist/feminine point of view for the moment. My argument, as stated before, is that Parente Cunha is «working through» the maze of post-structuralist thought,   —595→   and to this end, brings into her novel many aspects of the theoretical framework available to her as a professor of literary theory.

The entire novel is narrated by a nameless and ironically faceless female character who sits before what may be a vanity table with mirrors that open and shut as doors. The only other voice in the novel is that of yet another nameless female, «the woman who writes me». This voice, intrusive at times, comes from the faceless reflection in the mirror. «The woman who writes me» never uses the first person pronoun I, but rather consistently responds, admonishes and directs the narrator through the use of «you», thus establishing a dialogue between the first person narrator, her reflection and the reflections of her ideas. As the narrative progresses, the lives of the two women -two opposites by admission of the narrator- become intermingled and reverse themselves shortly before the final fusion of the two voices. Other characters, a domineering father, a submissive mother, a black nanny, the untouchable, unreachable little black boy next door, the sons, all faceless and nameless, appear as functions in the narrative process -a process that, in my opinion, responds very well to post-structuralist paradoxes. Specifically, I am referring to the issues of language and writing «as process» developed by Derrida and Foucault within the inescapable Freudian context that Lacan has outlined. Moreover, we may also infer from Parente Cunha's novel the whole issue of authorship; or, better stated, the issue of text ownership. For example, one point to be analyzed here is who is in charge of the text, whether that be the narrator, the narrator's reflection or, in a very real sense, the reader.

One of the primary contributions of the post-structuralist thinkers is the decentering of ideas. We have moved from a phonocentric philosophy, «deeply suspicious of script» (Eagleton 131), through a «logocentric» philosophy «committed to the belief in some ultimate 'word,' presence, essence, thought or reality which will act as the foundation of all our thought, language and experience» (Eagleton 131), to a decentered world, however paradoxical that view may be, since such a statement presupposes a center from which to «de». We enter into the philosophical realm of paradoxes. We want no center; however, for that to be, we must have a clear concept of center. Derrida found a solution to the problem through the view that the structuralist binary oppositions sometimes betray themselves, invert, collapse and become erased. Meaning blurs, as in a foggy mirror image -one makes out the image only through prior knowledge of what it is supposed to be. The difference and deference of meaning then multiplies, diffuses, disseminates to the point of challenging logic. Foucault agrees with Derrida and states, «writing, in Western culture, automatically dictates that we place ourselves in the virtual space of self-representation and reduplication, since writing refers not to a thing but to speech, a work of language only advances more deeply into the intangible density of the mirror, calls forth the double of this already doubled writing, discovers in this way a possible and impossible infinity and ceaselessly strives after speech» (Foucault 56). Lacan, a psychoanalyst, was more interested in language as process in the development of the self. As a post-structuralist, he saw the decentering of thought as natural in his famous «mirror stage» -the point at which the child realizes that his arms, legs, are part of a whole, a separate being from the mother. The mirror stage is also the point at which language begins to fill voids. Lacan describes language in terms of Desire, for to enunciate a word presupposes the absence of the object. Language, therefore, in Lacanian terms is a constant process of filling the void caused by absence. Here again, we might be tempted to enter into a theoretical discussion of the philosophical meaning of absence, but such would go beyond the scope of this study.

As the organizing «center» to this study, I will risk the following summarizing statement: post-structuralist theory reflects itself through language and in language, as a mirror image of what is perceived as reality. It is in this light that we must look at Parente Cunha's Mulher no espelho -a reflection of theory, through language reflecting itself between mirrors. In other words, Parente Cunha, like other contemporary Brazilian writers, is struggling to describe language -the Object of Desire- through the use of language itself or its mirror image.

I propose that we think of the narrator as language itself undertaking the task of defining itself. Time and space become irrelevant -«Now, when my faces come into alignment, one over another, and the dates come together, I'm going to begin my story» (1). Thus, the reader has a point of reference that might be called the center of the narrative and, therefore, a comfortable Cartesian point of reference. However, like her contemporaries, Parente Cunha will not allow such a passive reaction from her reader. She will provide a continuous decentering of the narration   —596→   and of the narrator, so that the reader must become an active contributor to the text.

The first decentering occurs as the novel begins -«I'm a made-up character. I exist only in my imagination and in the imagination of my reader. And of course I exist for the woman who is putting me on paper» (1). The character moves from paper to the reader's imagination, back to the imagination of the «woman who is writing», back to paper. Nowhere is the text centered in the author, in the text itself, or in the reader. This dynamic manipulation of reflected images appears throughout the novel and seems to echo Foucault's words concerning what one must analyze in a text: «What are the modes of existence of this discourse? Where does it come from; how is it circulated; who controls it? What placements are determined for possible subjects? Who can fulfill these diverse functions of the subject? Behind all these questions we would hear little more than the murmur of indifference: What [does it] matter who's speaking?» (Foucault 138). Parente Cunha's text expresses the same idea with these words, «Here and now. Why not there and before? Why not? What is the distance between the face in the mirror and the mirror in front of the face where the boundaries blur? The real is the unreal, now and there. Why not? The dates come together with my images and I say I. But when I say I, I'm not the woman who is writing this very page. When I say I, I'm merely imagining myself. She is the one who is writing. And my face in the mirror? Who is it?» (2).

Language is elusive. In discussing the post-structuralists, Terry Eagleton reminds us that «there is something in writing itself which finally evades all systems and logics. There is a continual flickering, spilling, and diffusing of meaning -what Derrida calls 'dissemination...'» (134). Our character states, «the woman who writes me feels lost, she can't figure out where I go, I'm an irresistible presence that keeps getting away from her, slipping away, nimble, confusing and dominating» (2). As the narrative progresses, developing a plot that seems almost insignificant, we notice the relationship between the narrator and the woman who writes her. It is clear from the text that the narrator/language is in control. «Let there be no doubt about it. She, the woman who writes me, can't speak of herself here. Only I have the right to speak of her. With the freedom that comes from my fiction. If she wants to express her anguish or revolt, she'll have to go through me. The moment she says I, she isn't any more. Here, I can only mean me, I'm the only me. For her to say I she'll have to invent herself, the way I invented myself. I set my own rules... It's not that I have special privileges that she doesn't. It's just that I get to set my own boundaries» (24). The boundaries of the text, therefore, are set by language -the primary character. The knowledge that the narrator has of her writer betrays Parente Cunha's knowledge of Derrida and Foucault. Our character states, «I invented her, which doesn't include knowing her completely. Knowing means knowing as well as not knowing. Being sure you'll never really know, inside and out. When we see each other face to face, irreversible mirror, we're not seeing each other face to face. We see each other in between. [My emphasis] Not the shock of confrontation but a slipping underneath» (11). «In between», for Foucault, would be that «fatal space in which language speaks of itself» (56). He states, «it is possible that in every work language is superimposed upon itself in a secret verticality, where the double is exactly the same as the thin space between...» (56). It is in this space in between, that the narrative takes place, that language speaks of itself and disseminates itself.

The literary theory professor Parente Cunha cannot separate her culture -Academe- from her craft -novel writing. Indeed, so strong is this reflection that her intrusion is seen as a «nonintrusion». We, the readers, seldom question the fact that we seem to be in a literary theory class. Our character, language, states, «We need to keep it straight who's character, narrator, and author. I'm the character here. The narrator is herself, the woman who writes me. The author has nothing to do with the story. The authoress, that is. These are three entities which, as it so happens, have come together. Here, the narrator, that is, the woman who writes me, is a character of the character. My character. Which doesn't cancel out the basic difference. As I've often said, she's who she is, I'm who I am. As for the authoress, I don't know who she is. She doesn't come into the story. Or does she? Could we be projections of her fantasies? It doesn't make any difference» (52). The important issue here is the reflection, the post-structuralist decentering, regardless of where we as readers may wish to establish a center.

If the development of the character, language, betrays a reflection of Derrida and Foucault, the development of the images and also some of the plot betray a thorough familiarity with Lacanian theory. The woman before the mirror goes through   —597→   a physical displacement when her baby brother is born; she realizes that her world, her wholeness, is threatened; she breaks her brother's toy ironically an elephant-and carries around a doll with a broken face-yet another faceless character. Throughout the narrative, she is consumed by rats gnawing at her feet. When she is able to understand herself, the rats become part of the world of the woman who writes her, but as she explains, «they don't exist. Rats are just a psychological mechanism. There have never been any rats... Rats are all in the mind. Figments of the imagination. There's no such thing in cold hard fact. Rats are as unreal as were wolves and headless horsemen. Mental processes» (98-99). We could add, rats are as unreal as language itself -mental processes. It is here that the text most closely reflects Lacan. The rats that have been gnawing at the narrator's feet -language's foundation- now are gnawing at the woman who writes -herself nothing but a creation of the narrator «I» We reach the paradox of language speaking of itself through itself without a firm foundation (gnawed-off feet). This process of subject and object identification entangles the reader in the scheme of the «complex interchanges between the self and its mirror images [that] raise more general concerns about the relationship between the self as subject and the self as its own object» (La Belle 47). Moreover, the fact that «I» and «the woman who writes me» are faceless individuals who «face each other» in the mirror, further points to the impossible space -the in-between space- created by language attempting to define itself.

The novel ends with a total fusion. «The intersection of me with her turned into me with me. We are one. Me and me. Me. ME. Dead center. The mirrors give off an intolerable glare. Frozen. I see more than I see. Eye to eye. Bedrock. I write what I write. I. Outside the lightning starts to flash. The sudden thunderclaps respond with a deafening roll. The mirrors send back and forth the same pulled down, pentup face, without so much as a quiver. The storm. the open mirrors. The open window. Suddenly a lightning bolt streaks across the dark sky. The mirrors shatter into a thousand pieces» (132). The character, language, has become one with its reflection. Foucault would say that a new language, a new meaning, is present. The unity comes from the thousand pieces of broken mirror that become «A single face... The face. Me. The gentle wind from out of the heavy storm» (132). The novel ends with a total fusion, language, theory, writer, and reader. As Foucault would summarize it, «... giving birth to an obscure but dominant figure where death, the mirror and the double, and the wavelike succession of words to infinity enact their roles» (66).

To conclude, I must add that if Parente Cunha is indeed successful in reflecting post-structuralist theory in her novel -and I believe that she is- I must at least mention two points not developed here. The first is the issue of new feminist criticism as part of post-structuralist theory, for a feminist reading of this novel deserves undivided attention. Whatever feminist approach is taken to the reading of this novel, it must be done without the phallocentric words from Foucault, Derrida, and Lacan. Second, another facet of post-structuralist theory is not developed in this paper through language, and that is the issue of reader response. However, this novel and the present analysis depend greatly on what the reader, like you and me, may bring into this text.

Eagleton, Terry. Literary Theory. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1983.

Ellison, Fred P. and Naomi Lindstrom. «Translator's Preface», in Helena Parente Cunha. Woman Between Mirrors. Austin, TX: The University of Texas Press, 1989.

Foucault, Michel. Language, Counter-memory, practice. Edited and Trans. by Donald F. Bouchard. Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press, 1977.

La Belle, Jenijoy. Herself Beheld. The Literature of the Looking Glass. Ithaca, N. Y.: Cornell University Press, 1988.

Lacan, Jacques. Ecrits: A Selection. London: Tavistock, 1977.

McClendon, Carmen Chaves. «Theoretical Dialogue in O Quarto Fechado». CHASQUI 17: 2 (1988): 23-26.

Parente Cunha, Helena. Mulher no Espelho. São Paulo: Art Editora, 1985.

_____. Woman Between Mirrors. Trans. by Mirrors. Trans. by Fred P. Ellison and Naomi Lindstrom. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press, 1989.

Sarup, Madan. Post-Structuralism and Post-Modernism. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1989.

Showalter, Elaine. Feminist Criticism: Essays on Women, Literature and Theory. New York: Pantheon, 1985.

Hispania [Publicaciones periódicas]. Volume 74, Number 3, September 1991