Free The Hour of the Star by Clarice Lispector Page B

been forgiven. The Abstract Being had shown mercy.
    On the following day, which was a Monday, perhaps because the chocolate had affected her liver or because of her nervousness about drinking something intended for the rich, Macabéa felt unwell.
    With an act of will-power, she prevented herself from vomiting in her determination not to squander that delicious chocolate. Some days later, when she received her wages, she summoned enough courage for the first time in her life (bang) to make an appointment with a doctor recommended by Glória, who didn't charge much. He examined her, examined her a second time, and then a third time.
    — Are you dieting to lose weight, my girl? Macabéa didn't know how to reply.
    — What do you eat?
    — Hot dogs.
    — Is that all?
    — Sometimes I eat a mortadella sandwich.
    — What do you drink? Milk?
    — Only coffee and soft drinks.
    — What do you mean by soft drinks? — He probed, not quite knowing how to proceed. He questioned her at random:
    — Do you sometimes have fits of vomiting?
    — Oh, never! — she exclaimed in a panic, for she was not a fool to go wasting food, as I've explained. The doctor took a good look at her and felt sure that she didn't diet to lose weight. Nevertheless, he found it easier to go on insisting that she shouldn't diet to lose weight. He knew how things stood and that he was the poor man's doctor. That was what he muttered to himself as he prescribed a tonic that Macabéa wouldn't even bother to buy: she believed it was sufficient to consult a doctor in order to be cured. He snapped at her without being able to account for his sudden outburst of annoyance and indignation:
    — This tale about a diet of hot dogs is pure neurosis. What you need is a psychiatrist!
    She had no idea what he was talking about but felt that the doctor expected her to smile. So she smiled.
    The doctor, who was corpulent and given to perspiring, suffered from a nervous tic that caused him to purse his lips at regular intervals. As a result, he looked like a pouting infant about to burst into tears.
    This doctor had no ambition whatsoever. He saw medicine simply as a means of earning a living. It had nothing to do with dedication or concern for the sick. He was negligent and found the squalor of his patients utterly distasteful. He resented having to deal with the poor whom he saw as the rejects of that privileged society from which he himself had been excluded. It had not escaped him that he was out of touch with the latest trends in medicine and new clinical methods, but he had all the training he was likely to need for treating the lower orders. His dream was to earn enough money to do exactly what he pleased: nothing.
    When the doctor told Macabéa that he was about to give her a medical examination, she said:
    — I've been told you have to take your clothes off when you visit a doctor, but I'm not taking anything off.
    He gave her an X-ray and said:
    — You're in the early stages of pulmonary tuberculosis. Macabéa didn't know if this was a good or a bad thing.
    But being ever so polite she simply said:
    — Many thanks.
    The doctor resisted any temptation to be compassionate. He advised her: when you can't decide what you should eat, make yourself a generous helping of Italian spaghetti.
    With a mere hint of kindness in his voice, since he, too, had been treated unjustly by fate, he added:
    — It doesn't cost that much . . .
    — I've never heard of the food you've just mentioned. Is it good?
    — Of course, it is! Just look at this paunch! It comes from eating big helpings of spaghetti and drinking lots of beer. Forget the beer. You had better avoid alcohol.
    She repeated wearily:
    — Alcohol?
    — Shall I tell you something? I wish you'd get the hell out of here!
    Yes, I adore Macabéa, my darling Maca. I adore her ugliness and her total anonymity for she belongs to no one. I adore her for her weak lungs and her under-nourished body. How I should like to see her open