Dom Casmurro 9.82 · 9.82

Marcolini's cosmology has hardened into a claque. The 'maestro' is Satan, who set the music, and his admirers now defend the score as a work so finished it could scarcely be bettered. Machado stages theology as opera-house gossip: the ancient quarrel of God and the Devil shrinks to the bickering of two fan clubs after a premiere.

The comedy is exact. The largest questions a person can ask — is the world well made, is creation good? — get argued in the register of partisans praising their side. By making every verdict an interested one, spoken by 'friends,' Machado quietly drains the debate of neutrality. Nobody here judges the opera of life from outside it; each critic already belongs to a party.

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