Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands
by Jorge Amado
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When Dona Flor's husband dies suddenly, she forgets all his defects and remembers only his passion. Erotic nightmares haunt her. Dr Teodoro, a local pharmacist, proposes marriage and Dona Flor accepts, hoping to recapture the ecstasy she now craves. One night, her first husband materializes naked at the foot of her bed, eager to reclaim his conjugal rights. The visit is the first of many, as Dona Flor, racked by desire but reluctant to betray the upright pharmacist, responds to the ethereal show more demands of her first husband. Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands shows why Jorge Amado is Brazil's best-known writer. It is the work of a brilliant story-teller whose love for his characters matches his powers of evocation. An epic book. show lessTags
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For the first 500 pages or so, this pretends to be a straightforward pastiche of an old-fashioned social-realist novel, the sort of thing Balzac would undoubtedly have written, had he been a hundred years younger and living in Bahia. It's all about the flimsiness of the veneer of respectability that (notionally) separates the ambitious, modern, bourgeois, Catholic residents of Salvador de Bahia from the colourful world of gambling, vice, and traditional religion that surrounds them.
Dona Flor is a respectable, self-made woman, proprietor of a celebrated cookery school for the daughters of the rich, but her first husband, Vadinho, is an irresponsible gambler and a party-animal who can't give her anything but love. When he meets his show more untimely end whilst dancing in drag at the carnival, Flor follows the advice of her friends and — after the required decent interval — takes the considerate, methodical and ever-so-slightly-boring pharmacist and amateur bassoonist Teodoro as her second husband. Naturally, she still has occasional pangs for her nights of passion with the late Vadinho, and Amado takes shameless advantage of her weakness to play a Latin-American novelist's trump card in the last 150 pages, producing much very entertaining chaos in the process.
This is the sort of book where you feel you must be missing out on a lot of in-jokes at the expense of Amado's friends and neighbours, but it also sneaks in quite a lot of detailed social analysis of provincial Brazil in the mid-20th century and the changes it was going through. Flor and her friends are women who have been brought up with a very narrow idea of their role in the world, but many of them have found more or less subtle ways to challenge that. show less
Dona Flor is a respectable, self-made woman, proprietor of a celebrated cookery school for the daughters of the rich, but her first husband, Vadinho, is an irresponsible gambler and a party-animal who can't give her anything but love. When he meets his show more untimely end whilst dancing in drag at the carnival, Flor follows the advice of her friends and — after the required decent interval — takes the considerate, methodical and ever-so-slightly-boring pharmacist and amateur bassoonist Teodoro as her second husband. Naturally, she still has occasional pangs for her nights of passion with the late Vadinho, and Amado takes shameless advantage of her weakness to play a Latin-American novelist's trump card in the last 150 pages, producing much very entertaining chaos in the process.
This is the sort of book where you feel you must be missing out on a lot of in-jokes at the expense of Amado's friends and neighbours, but it also sneaks in quite a lot of detailed social analysis of provincial Brazil in the mid-20th century and the changes it was going through. Flor and her friends are women who have been brought up with a very narrow idea of their role in the world, but many of them have found more or less subtle ways to challenge that. show less
Although I've been reading lots of Amado in the recent past, I have somehow neglected his most famous novel which has been on my TBR for decades. And what a delightful read it turned out to be.
Flor is a naive young girl, already a cooking instructor, who is swept off her feet by the charming scoundrel, Vadinho, and marries him. But, although their sex life is fabulous, he is an inveterate gambler and womanizer, stays out all night at casinos and whorehouses, and runs through Flor's money (but not what she hides away). Then, suddenly, after seven years of marriage, he drops dead, and Flor is a widow. Despite the fact that her cooking school has always been successful and that she has various friends who support her emotionally, she show more misses Vadhino and is tormented by her sexual desire. Finally, after her year of mourning is up, she discovers that the local druggist, Teodoro, is in love with her, and they eventually marry. Teodoro is the opposite of Vadhino: reliable, good with money, monogamous -- and boring, especially sexually, where he has a schedule of Wednesday night and twice on Saturday night, and always conducts his sexual activity beneath the sheets and with some of their night clothes on. While Flor sincerely appreciates his other good qualities, she knows she's missing something. Then, lo and behold, Vadinho appears, initially only to her, and uses all his power of persuasion to attempt to convince her that he is still married to her and so it wouldn't be a sin for them to resume their wild and wonderful sex life.
If this were all there was in this book, it would still be a delightful sex farce. But Amado goes on digressions -- oh, how he goes on digressions. The reader learns about gambling, and cooking, and the process of making drugs by hand (and the controversy about manufactured drugs), and music (Teodoro is a serious amateur bassoon player), and African gods, and corruption in government, and the criminals behind gambling, and on and on on. Sometimes it gets a little much, but mostly it is very enjoyable. Amado also creates many wonderful secondary characters, both good and bad and in between, all of whom spring to life. All in all, this was a fun read. show less
Flor is a naive young girl, already a cooking instructor, who is swept off her feet by the charming scoundrel, Vadinho, and marries him. But, although their sex life is fabulous, he is an inveterate gambler and womanizer, stays out all night at casinos and whorehouses, and runs through Flor's money (but not what she hides away). Then, suddenly, after seven years of marriage, he drops dead, and Flor is a widow. Despite the fact that her cooking school has always been successful and that she has various friends who support her emotionally, she show more misses Vadhino and is tormented by her sexual desire. Finally, after her year of mourning is up, she discovers that the local druggist, Teodoro, is in love with her, and they eventually marry. Teodoro is the opposite of Vadhino: reliable, good with money, monogamous -- and boring, especially sexually, where he has a schedule of Wednesday night and twice on Saturday night, and always conducts his sexual activity beneath the sheets and with some of their night clothes on. While Flor sincerely appreciates his other good qualities, she knows she's missing something. Then, lo and behold, Vadinho appears, initially only to her, and uses all his power of persuasion to attempt to convince her that he is still married to her and so it wouldn't be a sin for them to resume their wild and wonderful sex life.
If this were all there was in this book, it would still be a delightful sex farce. But Amado goes on digressions -- oh, how he goes on digressions. The reader learns about gambling, and cooking, and the process of making drugs by hand (and the controversy about manufactured drugs), and music (Teodoro is a serious amateur bassoon player), and African gods, and corruption in government, and the criminals behind gambling, and on and on on. Sometimes it gets a little much, but mostly it is very enjoyable. Amado also creates many wonderful secondary characters, both good and bad and in between, all of whom spring to life. All in all, this was a fun read. show less
In Dona Flor, Jorge Amado creates a character that defines the tension between spirit and matter; proud of her tact and meekness, but nursing a hidden flame. The reader explores both the wealthy and uptight class and the gambling, fun-loving lower classes of Bahia, Brazil. Vadinho, her first husband, is an inveterate gambler, womanizer, and drunk who loves Dona Flor honestly but imperfectly. He drops dead in the first chapter, and Flor is plunged into widowhood. Her second husband is an upright and honest man who also adores Flor, but is, quite simply, boring as hell.
The reader meets inhabitants of the underbelly, and the cream of the crop as well, in an unstoppable parade of characters that situate her firmly in Amado's world. The show more shallow henpecking of the wealthy, their endless formalities and judgments, speaks to the author's love of the working class, whom we meet as a partying rabble of free thinkers and lovers.
Amado uses Vadinho's return from the dead to explore what happens to people when they are split inside, how it is possible to love two people at once (easier when one of them is dead), how to rectify differences between matter and spirit. Told with good humor, an empathetic understanding of why people act the way they do toward one another, and a wonderful sense of raunchy goodness, the book makes a defense for love without excuses or shame. show less
The reader meets inhabitants of the underbelly, and the cream of the crop as well, in an unstoppable parade of characters that situate her firmly in Amado's world. The show more shallow henpecking of the wealthy, their endless formalities and judgments, speaks to the author's love of the working class, whom we meet as a partying rabble of free thinkers and lovers.
Amado uses Vadinho's return from the dead to explore what happens to people when they are split inside, how it is possible to love two people at once (easier when one of them is dead), how to rectify differences between matter and spirit. Told with good humor, an empathetic understanding of why people act the way they do toward one another, and a wonderful sense of raunchy goodness, the book makes a defense for love without excuses or shame. show less
Sexy, South American, and supernatural. The plot is pretty straightforward, and I’ll outline it here (spoiler alert). Dona Flor, a shy young cooking school teacher, is swept off her feet by Vadinho, an attractive young man who is also unfortunately a gambler and a womanizer. He is very open about the lifestyle he leads, and is often out late drinking and partying, sleeping around, and throwing away their money; despite all this, Flor is completely devoted to him.
One day, while dressed up as a woman and dancing in the street during Carnival, Vadinho keels over dead, leaving Flor a young widow. She mourns him but after a year or so finds herself needing physical passion again, and comes to be courted. She narrowly avoids a few con men show more and low-lifes, eventually marrying Teodoro, a pharmacist who is the antithesis of Vadinho: stable, respectful, trustworthy, and a hard worker – in short, a very solid guy who would never cheat on her.
In one of the more memorable scenes, Dona Magnolia attempts to seduce Teodoro into adultery first by regularly appearing in her window with full cleavage on display, turning on every other man of all ages in the neighborhood except Teodoro, and then later by visiting his pharmacy and requesting a shot “not in the arm, doctor, not in the arm”, before lifting her skirt for him. True to form, however, and much to Magnolia’s chagrin (“for nobody had ever insulted her to the point of resisting the sight of her ass ready for combat”), Teodoro remains professional and does not come close to giving in to her charms.
Flor loves Teodoro for all of his virtues, and while their time in bed is far more structured than how it had been with Vadinho (every Wednesday and twice on Saturday at 10pm, as Amado regularly reminds us), they do enjoy each other in “that” way too; their relationship is not platonic by any means. And yet … and yet … she does remember the fire that was Vadinho, and one day somewhat absentmindedly conjures him up with an idle wish.
Vadinho then appears again on the scene in ghost form. Flor can see him but others can only hear him, or (in the case of the ladies he gropes), feel him. Yes, Vadinho hasn’t changed a bit, and uses his abilities to cheat at gambling, and actively begins trying to seduce Flor. She resists as an upright wife to a virtuous man, but Vadinho is relentless, relentless. Does she give in? Ok on this very last part, I leave it to you to find out.
It may seem like a somewhat simple study in the conflicting choice between the typical “nice guy” and the “bad guy” in monogamy (and the feeling of why oh why can’t there just be elements of both in the “perfect” guy), but it doesn’t read as simple, it reads as sophisticated. Amado’s prose is lyrical and flowing, though there were occasions where I suspect the translation could have been improved. Regardless, the elements of Brazilian culture were of interest, as were the characters, such as Rozilda, Flor’s cantankerous and unpleasant mother. The book is a bit on the long side, but the supernatural, fanastical storyline in the final major sections and the conflict Flor feels kept it enjoyable to the end.
Quotes:
On Brazil:
“Why all this scandal, when one of the most admirable things about Brazil, according to the opinion of the gringa, was its capacity for understanding and coexistence? It was such a common thing for married women to raise spurious children of their husbands; she herself had known of several cases, among poor as well as rich people.”
On gossips:
“Who is going to take the trouble to bear good tidings? For that there is no hurry or impatience. Nobody goes running into the street for that. Only when there is bad news. To carry that there is no shortage of messengers; there are those who are willing to make the greatest sacrifices, give up their work, interrupt their rest, sacrificing themselves completely. To bring bad news – what a delightful treat!”
On love, conflicted:
“What could she say? Why is everybody two different people? Why is it necessary to be torn between two loves? Why does the heart hold at the same time two emotions, contradictory and opposed?”
And:
“I know I will only be happy if you are not here, if you go away. I realize that with you there can be no happiness, only dishonor and suffering. But without you, however happy I might be, I do not know how to live, I cannot live, oh, never leave me.”
On the meek/timid:
“Vadinho knew her weaknesses, brought them out in the open: that banked-down desire of the timid person, that restraint which turned violent and positively unbounded when given free rein in bed.”
And:
“Mirandao was acquainted with gentle, meek persons of that sort; once they had been taken advantage of, they walled themselves around with stubborn pride, and there was no changing them.”
On the news:
“Why this disdain of the press for culture? Why such limitation of space? Dr. Teodoro protested, when there were pages and pages for the most revolting crimes, the nudistic scandals of movie stars, their absurd divorces, setting a deplorable example to our youth?”
On old age:
“Dona Dinora, queen of busybodies and fortuneteller, passed the Scientific Pharmacy every day; twice a week she uncovered her flaccid bottom (ah, how fleeting the vanity and grandeur of this world: that same withered backside which had inspired the satanic verses of Master Robato, when he was an adolescent bard of the diabolic school, and the sight and touch of which had cost checks, real shell-outs, by rich business men)…”
On passion:
“Not only did he undress her completely, but as though that was not enough he touched and played with her body, the long curves and deep angles where light and shadow crossed in mysterious play. Dona Flor tried to cover herself up. Vadinho pulled off the sheet between laughs, revealing firm breasts, her handsome backside, her belly almost hairless. He took her as though she were a toy, a toy or a closed rosebud which he brought into bloom each night of pleasure. Dona Flor began to lose her timidity, giving herself over to that lascivious union, growing in response, turning into a heartsome, spirited lover. She never, however, completely lost her modesty or shame; she had to be conquered anew each time…”
“…As though an irresistible avalanche were dragging her along, he dominated her and decided her fate. Flor understood, after those brief and perfect days in Rio Vermelho, that is was no longer possible for her to live without the warmth, the gaiety, the mad presence of that charmer. She did whatever he asked of her: at the parties she danced with nobody else; hand in hand they went down from the kermess of the Square to the dark beach, where in the blackness of the night they could kiss better, as he suggested; she shivered as she felt his caressing hand make its way under her dress, setting her thighs and haunches afire.”
“Prone on the iron bed, Dona Flor shuddered. That night the gall turned to honey, once more pain became supreme pleasure; never had she been a mare so in heat covered by her potent stallion, such an eager bitch, a slave submitting to her own debauchery, a woman pursuing all the paths of desire, fields of flowers and sweetness, forests of damp shadows and forbidden ways, to their final conclusion. A night to enter the narrowest, most tightly closed doors, a night to surrender the last bastion of her modesty, Glory hallelujah! When gall is turned into honey and suffering is strange, exquisite, divine pleasure, a night to give and to receive.”
“What do I care about what people think of me? What do I give for my honor as a married woman? Take all this in your burning mouth, which tastes of raw onion, burn in your fire my innate decency, rend with your spurs my former modesty: I am your bitch, your mare, your whore.”
And this one, after being a widow:
“As a rule, her untroubled sleep was only a brief beginning. Then the dreams began and led her to the infamy of obscenities, tossing about on the mattress, her breast aching, her womb mad. Every night, her period of sleep and rest diminished, and the dreaming and desire grew.”
On secrets in marriage:
“’We are never going to quarrel. Nor hide anything from one another, no matter what it is. We will tell each other everything, everything.’
He kissed her lips softly.
‘Everything,’ Dona Flor repeated in a whisper.
Dr. Teodoro smiled, completely satisfied, got up and went to turn off the light. ‘Everything, Teodoro? Do you think that is possible? Even the most hidden thoughts, those which a person hides even from himself, Teodoro?’ …. ‘Not everything, Teodoro. You do not know what a dark pool the heart is.’”
Lastly, some humor, on the unpleasant Dona Rozilda; this one relative to her husband:
“On departing this for a better world, the aforementioned Gil, the nincompoop without any backbone, had left his family in a very tight spot, in a precarious situation. In his case the phrase ‘departing this for a better world’ is not just a cliché, but the literal truth. Whatever the mysteries that might await him in the beyond – a paradise of light, music, and glowing angels; a murky hell with boiling cauldrons; damp, limbo; circling through sidereal space; or nothing, simply not being – anything would be better by comparison than his life with Dona Rozilda.”
And this from Vadinho, her son-in-law, who pretty quickly sizes her up:
“Nobody but Jesus Christ could stand living with Dona Rozilda, and I am not even sure He could; we’d have to see if the Nazarene had the patience. Maybe not even He could take it.” show less
One day, while dressed up as a woman and dancing in the street during Carnival, Vadinho keels over dead, leaving Flor a young widow. She mourns him but after a year or so finds herself needing physical passion again, and comes to be courted. She narrowly avoids a few con men show more and low-lifes, eventually marrying Teodoro, a pharmacist who is the antithesis of Vadinho: stable, respectful, trustworthy, and a hard worker – in short, a very solid guy who would never cheat on her.
In one of the more memorable scenes, Dona Magnolia attempts to seduce Teodoro into adultery first by regularly appearing in her window with full cleavage on display, turning on every other man of all ages in the neighborhood except Teodoro, and then later by visiting his pharmacy and requesting a shot “not in the arm, doctor, not in the arm”, before lifting her skirt for him. True to form, however, and much to Magnolia’s chagrin (“for nobody had ever insulted her to the point of resisting the sight of her ass ready for combat”), Teodoro remains professional and does not come close to giving in to her charms.
Flor loves Teodoro for all of his virtues, and while their time in bed is far more structured than how it had been with Vadinho (every Wednesday and twice on Saturday at 10pm, as Amado regularly reminds us), they do enjoy each other in “that” way too; their relationship is not platonic by any means. And yet … and yet … she does remember the fire that was Vadinho, and one day somewhat absentmindedly conjures him up with an idle wish.
Vadinho then appears again on the scene in ghost form. Flor can see him but others can only hear him, or (in the case of the ladies he gropes), feel him. Yes, Vadinho hasn’t changed a bit, and uses his abilities to cheat at gambling, and actively begins trying to seduce Flor. She resists as an upright wife to a virtuous man, but Vadinho is relentless, relentless. Does she give in? Ok on this very last part, I leave it to you to find out.
It may seem like a somewhat simple study in the conflicting choice between the typical “nice guy” and the “bad guy” in monogamy (and the feeling of why oh why can’t there just be elements of both in the “perfect” guy), but it doesn’t read as simple, it reads as sophisticated. Amado’s prose is lyrical and flowing, though there were occasions where I suspect the translation could have been improved. Regardless, the elements of Brazilian culture were of interest, as were the characters, such as Rozilda, Flor’s cantankerous and unpleasant mother. The book is a bit on the long side, but the supernatural, fanastical storyline in the final major sections and the conflict Flor feels kept it enjoyable to the end.
Quotes:
On Brazil:
“Why all this scandal, when one of the most admirable things about Brazil, according to the opinion of the gringa, was its capacity for understanding and coexistence? It was such a common thing for married women to raise spurious children of their husbands; she herself had known of several cases, among poor as well as rich people.”
On gossips:
“Who is going to take the trouble to bear good tidings? For that there is no hurry or impatience. Nobody goes running into the street for that. Only when there is bad news. To carry that there is no shortage of messengers; there are those who are willing to make the greatest sacrifices, give up their work, interrupt their rest, sacrificing themselves completely. To bring bad news – what a delightful treat!”
On love, conflicted:
“What could she say? Why is everybody two different people? Why is it necessary to be torn between two loves? Why does the heart hold at the same time two emotions, contradictory and opposed?”
And:
“I know I will only be happy if you are not here, if you go away. I realize that with you there can be no happiness, only dishonor and suffering. But without you, however happy I might be, I do not know how to live, I cannot live, oh, never leave me.”
On the meek/timid:
“Vadinho knew her weaknesses, brought them out in the open: that banked-down desire of the timid person, that restraint which turned violent and positively unbounded when given free rein in bed.”
And:
“Mirandao was acquainted with gentle, meek persons of that sort; once they had been taken advantage of, they walled themselves around with stubborn pride, and there was no changing them.”
On the news:
“Why this disdain of the press for culture? Why such limitation of space? Dr. Teodoro protested, when there were pages and pages for the most revolting crimes, the nudistic scandals of movie stars, their absurd divorces, setting a deplorable example to our youth?”
On old age:
“Dona Dinora, queen of busybodies and fortuneteller, passed the Scientific Pharmacy every day; twice a week she uncovered her flaccid bottom (ah, how fleeting the vanity and grandeur of this world: that same withered backside which had inspired the satanic verses of Master Robato, when he was an adolescent bard of the diabolic school, and the sight and touch of which had cost checks, real shell-outs, by rich business men)…”
On passion:
“Not only did he undress her completely, but as though that was not enough he touched and played with her body, the long curves and deep angles where light and shadow crossed in mysterious play. Dona Flor tried to cover herself up. Vadinho pulled off the sheet between laughs, revealing firm breasts, her handsome backside, her belly almost hairless. He took her as though she were a toy, a toy or a closed rosebud which he brought into bloom each night of pleasure. Dona Flor began to lose her timidity, giving herself over to that lascivious union, growing in response, turning into a heartsome, spirited lover. She never, however, completely lost her modesty or shame; she had to be conquered anew each time…”
“…As though an irresistible avalanche were dragging her along, he dominated her and decided her fate. Flor understood, after those brief and perfect days in Rio Vermelho, that is was no longer possible for her to live without the warmth, the gaiety, the mad presence of that charmer. She did whatever he asked of her: at the parties she danced with nobody else; hand in hand they went down from the kermess of the Square to the dark beach, where in the blackness of the night they could kiss better, as he suggested; she shivered as she felt his caressing hand make its way under her dress, setting her thighs and haunches afire.”
“Prone on the iron bed, Dona Flor shuddered. That night the gall turned to honey, once more pain became supreme pleasure; never had she been a mare so in heat covered by her potent stallion, such an eager bitch, a slave submitting to her own debauchery, a woman pursuing all the paths of desire, fields of flowers and sweetness, forests of damp shadows and forbidden ways, to their final conclusion. A night to enter the narrowest, most tightly closed doors, a night to surrender the last bastion of her modesty, Glory hallelujah! When gall is turned into honey and suffering is strange, exquisite, divine pleasure, a night to give and to receive.”
“What do I care about what people think of me? What do I give for my honor as a married woman? Take all this in your burning mouth, which tastes of raw onion, burn in your fire my innate decency, rend with your spurs my former modesty: I am your bitch, your mare, your whore.”
And this one, after being a widow:
“As a rule, her untroubled sleep was only a brief beginning. Then the dreams began and led her to the infamy of obscenities, tossing about on the mattress, her breast aching, her womb mad. Every night, her period of sleep and rest diminished, and the dreaming and desire grew.”
On secrets in marriage:
“’We are never going to quarrel. Nor hide anything from one another, no matter what it is. We will tell each other everything, everything.’
He kissed her lips softly.
‘Everything,’ Dona Flor repeated in a whisper.
Dr. Teodoro smiled, completely satisfied, got up and went to turn off the light. ‘Everything, Teodoro? Do you think that is possible? Even the most hidden thoughts, those which a person hides even from himself, Teodoro?’ …. ‘Not everything, Teodoro. You do not know what a dark pool the heart is.’”
Lastly, some humor, on the unpleasant Dona Rozilda; this one relative to her husband:
“On departing this for a better world, the aforementioned Gil, the nincompoop without any backbone, had left his family in a very tight spot, in a precarious situation. In his case the phrase ‘departing this for a better world’ is not just a cliché, but the literal truth. Whatever the mysteries that might await him in the beyond – a paradise of light, music, and glowing angels; a murky hell with boiling cauldrons; damp, limbo; circling through sidereal space; or nothing, simply not being – anything would be better by comparison than his life with Dona Rozilda.”
And this from Vadinho, her son-in-law, who pretty quickly sizes her up:
“Nobody but Jesus Christ could stand living with Dona Rozilda, and I am not even sure He could; we’d have to see if the Nazarene had the patience. Maybe not even He could take it.” show less
Undoubtedly one of the best novels I have ever read about the duality of the human spirit. This novel reached into my heart and mind and drew me into its mystical, magical, superstitious Brazilian tale. Jorge Amado starts by tickling the reader's fancy with a romance between a good girl, Flor, and a lovable, sensual gambler, Vadinho. He is the classic villain we hate to love. That is the skeleton of the story.
Amado proceeds to people the Bahian city with fantastic and fantastical characters. The reader meets the literati, the illiterate, the pagan and the prudish, the rich and the poor,the gossips, the whores, the matriarchs and more. Eventually, the reader finds it harder and harder to surface for air. All the while, Amado, while show more weaving a marvelous, prototypical Brazilian melodrama, is laying the complex groundwork for what I consider to be the primary theme of the novel. Just when I thought I was in the groove of the story of duality within our protagonist, Flor, Amado's tale erupts in primordial chaos of mind, body, and spirit. Mystical upheaval ensues as the gods become transparent in their own duplicity. Social class inequity, personal destiny, loyalty and love.....no topic remains off limits in this sweeping psychological story. Amado is an absolute master in his ability to create a culture and to reel in the reader using hooks baited with marvelous plot, engaging prose, absolutely wonderful character development and more.
In the end, what can one believe in? Peace comes with acceptance of duality? Or, as the final sentences purports, "And with this we come to the end of the tale of Dona Flor and her two husbands, set forth in all its details ad mysteries, as clear and dark as life itself. All this took place in Bahia, where these and other acts of magic occur without startling anybody. If anyone has his doubts, let him ask Cardoso e Sa., and he will tell him whether or no it is the truth. He can be found on the planet Mars or on any poor corner of the city. show less
Amado proceeds to people the Bahian city with fantastic and fantastical characters. The reader meets the literati, the illiterate, the pagan and the prudish, the rich and the poor,the gossips, the whores, the matriarchs and more. Eventually, the reader finds it harder and harder to surface for air. All the while, Amado, while show more weaving a marvelous, prototypical Brazilian melodrama, is laying the complex groundwork for what I consider to be the primary theme of the novel. Just when I thought I was in the groove of the story of duality within our protagonist, Flor, Amado's tale erupts in primordial chaos of mind, body, and spirit. Mystical upheaval ensues as the gods become transparent in their own duplicity. Social class inequity, personal destiny, loyalty and love.....no topic remains off limits in this sweeping psychological story. Amado is an absolute master in his ability to create a culture and to reel in the reader using hooks baited with marvelous plot, engaging prose, absolutely wonderful character development and more.
In the end, what can one believe in? Peace comes with acceptance of duality? Or, as the final sentences purports, "And with this we come to the end of the tale of Dona Flor and her two husbands, set forth in all its details ad mysteries, as clear and dark as life itself. All this took place in Bahia, where these and other acts of magic occur without startling anybody. If anyone has his doubts, let him ask Cardoso e Sa., and he will tell him whether or no it is the truth. He can be found on the planet Mars or on any poor corner of the city. show less
Given my dislike for dramatic narratives—full of conspicuous coincidences, lengthy character analysis by an omniscient narrator, unholy surprises, and complex twists in the plot and subplots—it is quite astonishing that I’d end up praising “Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands” by the renowned Brazilian author Jorge Amado. But sometimes, miracles do really happen, and even the most hackneyed theme can be suffused with subtle magic to take you by pleasant surprise.
The novel is about the tumultuous conjugal life of Dona Flor, a girl from Bahia and unmatched in her culinary skills. After being brought up by a tyrannical stepmother (not that typified evil stepmother though), she chooses to marry Vadinho—a gambler and an impostor but show more at the same time, very lively and exuberant—paying no heed to the consternations of her well-wishers. Despite his gambling habits and nocturnal sojourns to whorehouses, Vadinho is very much in love with Flor, and devilishly passionate on bed. Flor meets all the expenses by running a cooking school.
The placid life of this couple comes to a sudden halt as Vadinho drops dead amidst all the festivities of a carnival day. It takes Dona Flor a long time to come in terms with her loneliness and the irreversible absence of Vadinho in her life, though her neighbours, and especially her stepmother, firmly maintains that nothing could be more beneficial for her than getting rid of that rogue. But Flor, unable to think of Vadinho in that simple black and white term, keeps on cherishing the memories of those loving moments with Vadinho. Her condition is further aggravated by the lonely nights, devoid of the bodily warmth of a man.
Lo, and behold! Another man enters Flor’s life precisely at this juncture—a pharmacist by the name of Teodoro. Teodoro is the exact opposite of Vadinho—respectable and extraordinarily dull. He fulfils all the duties of a faithful husband and loves Flor very much. Flor is indeed very happy with him, but at the same time, she misses those wild extravaganzas of Vadinho.
Suddenly, on the anniversary of Vadinho’s death, Vadinho’s ghost appears to Flor, willing to take her straight to bed. Flor is aghast with shame. As an upright woman, she can’t deceive Teodoro, her present husband, and on the other hand, it is almost impossible to escape Vadinho’s erotic charm (which Teodoro lacks).
Clearly, this is a story of moral dilemma—a conflict between body and soul—told from the perspective of a plain and simple woman. The plot is definitely banal, and lacking in originality (the only exception is, probably, the appearance of Vadinho’s apparition with its so-called magic realistic touch). In fact, the plot gets unnecessarily heavy and tedious with the somewhat forced inclusion of black magic and voodoo elements. But, what charms me most is Amado’s playful language and his subtly ironic tone. This pompous way of storytelling at once reduces the weight of its melodramatic content and even mocks at it. While reading the novel, you feel like being at a carnival, with all its eccentricity and hullabaloo, having a nonchalant air about you. This is probably what Bakhtin could have called “carnivalesque”.
Another triumph of Amado lies in his masterful characterisation. All the characters—Flor, Vadinho, Teodoro and even less important characters like Flor’s neighbourhood friends—have emerged with so much clarity that you feel like knowing them for ages, with their typical manners and eccentric behaviours. This technique sometimes runs the risk of making the characters too typified, but Amado, by and large, manages to handle it with care because, here, he intends his characters to be larger than life, so that it gives the novel a picaresque air.
Also, Amado maintains a strong erotic undercurrent throughout the text. It puts the reader at somewhat awkward position, namely, that of a voyeur. Along with the author, we also start to enjoy the lascivious details of Flor's beauty and relives those ecstatic moments with her.
Another interesting feature of the novel is its fleeting commentary, mostly satirical, on the socio-political state of Brazil, referring to the decadent lives of the upper class and the corruption in the administration. But, these deviations are not pursued very extensively. After finishing the book, city of Bahia seems to be almost bacchanalian—full of goons, gamblers and whores.
This brings us to another interesting possibility inherent in the novel. Can we interpret the fate of Dona Flor as the dilemma of a person caught midway between two different social classes—that of Vadinho, low and despicable, and that of Teodero, sober and respectable? But alas, the novel does not give us that much space for interpretation.
Also, before concluding, I must admit that I’m not very happy with the ending of the novel. It is too definitive and does not leave any space at all for reader’s imagination, or rather, it prohibits reader’s participation in the text. But, nonetheless, once you are through with the book, you still retain that bitter-sweet taste on your mouth, which is addictive, like a furtive kiss in a dark alley. show less
The novel is about the tumultuous conjugal life of Dona Flor, a girl from Bahia and unmatched in her culinary skills. After being brought up by a tyrannical stepmother (not that typified evil stepmother though), she chooses to marry Vadinho—a gambler and an impostor but show more at the same time, very lively and exuberant—paying no heed to the consternations of her well-wishers. Despite his gambling habits and nocturnal sojourns to whorehouses, Vadinho is very much in love with Flor, and devilishly passionate on bed. Flor meets all the expenses by running a cooking school.
The placid life of this couple comes to a sudden halt as Vadinho drops dead amidst all the festivities of a carnival day. It takes Dona Flor a long time to come in terms with her loneliness and the irreversible absence of Vadinho in her life, though her neighbours, and especially her stepmother, firmly maintains that nothing could be more beneficial for her than getting rid of that rogue. But Flor, unable to think of Vadinho in that simple black and white term, keeps on cherishing the memories of those loving moments with Vadinho. Her condition is further aggravated by the lonely nights, devoid of the bodily warmth of a man.
Lo, and behold! Another man enters Flor’s life precisely at this juncture—a pharmacist by the name of Teodoro. Teodoro is the exact opposite of Vadinho—respectable and extraordinarily dull. He fulfils all the duties of a faithful husband and loves Flor very much. Flor is indeed very happy with him, but at the same time, she misses those wild extravaganzas of Vadinho.
Suddenly, on the anniversary of Vadinho’s death, Vadinho’s ghost appears to Flor, willing to take her straight to bed. Flor is aghast with shame. As an upright woman, she can’t deceive Teodoro, her present husband, and on the other hand, it is almost impossible to escape Vadinho’s erotic charm (which Teodoro lacks).
Clearly, this is a story of moral dilemma—a conflict between body and soul—told from the perspective of a plain and simple woman. The plot is definitely banal, and lacking in originality (the only exception is, probably, the appearance of Vadinho’s apparition with its so-called magic realistic touch). In fact, the plot gets unnecessarily heavy and tedious with the somewhat forced inclusion of black magic and voodoo elements. But, what charms me most is Amado’s playful language and his subtly ironic tone. This pompous way of storytelling at once reduces the weight of its melodramatic content and even mocks at it. While reading the novel, you feel like being at a carnival, with all its eccentricity and hullabaloo, having a nonchalant air about you. This is probably what Bakhtin could have called “carnivalesque”.
Another triumph of Amado lies in his masterful characterisation. All the characters—Flor, Vadinho, Teodoro and even less important characters like Flor’s neighbourhood friends—have emerged with so much clarity that you feel like knowing them for ages, with their typical manners and eccentric behaviours. This technique sometimes runs the risk of making the characters too typified, but Amado, by and large, manages to handle it with care because, here, he intends his characters to be larger than life, so that it gives the novel a picaresque air.
Also, Amado maintains a strong erotic undercurrent throughout the text. It puts the reader at somewhat awkward position, namely, that of a voyeur. Along with the author, we also start to enjoy the lascivious details of Flor's beauty and relives those ecstatic moments with her.
Another interesting feature of the novel is its fleeting commentary, mostly satirical, on the socio-political state of Brazil, referring to the decadent lives of the upper class and the corruption in the administration. But, these deviations are not pursued very extensively. After finishing the book, city of Bahia seems to be almost bacchanalian—full of goons, gamblers and whores.
This brings us to another interesting possibility inherent in the novel. Can we interpret the fate of Dona Flor as the dilemma of a person caught midway between two different social classes—that of Vadinho, low and despicable, and that of Teodero, sober and respectable? But alas, the novel does not give us that much space for interpretation.
Also, before concluding, I must admit that I’m not very happy with the ending of the novel. It is too definitive and does not leave any space at all for reader’s imagination, or rather, it prohibits reader’s participation in the text. But, nonetheless, once you are through with the book, you still retain that bitter-sweet taste on your mouth, which is addictive, like a furtive kiss in a dark alley. show less
Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands
Jorge Amado
Vadinho, that rascally, good-for-nothing, ne’er-do-well gambler and womanizer, drops dead during the middle of Carnaval, leaving his wife Dona Flor a young widow. While her neighbors, friends, and especially her poisonous mother, all rejoice--at last Dona Flor is rid of that lowlife husband--Dona Flor herself is unconsolable. Yes, he was all those bad things--but he was also charming, funny and, most important of all, an absolutely fantastic lover. Modest and upright (except in the iron matrimonial bed), Dona Flor simply can not explain to those around her why she continues to mourn.
But sooner or later, all things pass, and Flor does indeed marry again--Dr. Teodoro, who could not be more show more opposite than the scamp Vadinho. She is happy--but. And out of that "but" arises a situation that only the powers of magic and love can resolve.
On that thread of a story line, Amado wrote 622 pages of an affectionate, humorous paean to sensuality, Brasilian style. Flor is a genius at Bahian (Northeast Brasil) cooking , and food is as important in the story as it is in Brasilian life. But the focus of the story is on Flor and her struggle to be “decent” in the battle between spirit and matter, as she puts it--between her sense of what is right and her longing for her sexually athletic dead husband who lit her original fires and who still is the only one who can quench them totally.
The characters are wonderfully drawn; there are any number of the socially respectable as well as rogues, con artists, and neighborhood gossips. The description of Northeast Brasilian life in the Bahian capital of Ilheus in the mid-twentieth century is captivating. The practice of candomblé--a combination of Yaruba (West Africa) religion and Roman Catholicism--is very much alive both today in Brasil and in the book, and there are some lively, dramatic scenes involving Exu, Yamenjá, and other Yaruban deities in Amado's touch of magical realism.
Even by South American literature standards, this book is overly long; it could have been edited by 100 pages and still have been just as funny, just as sensuous and a better read. But that shouldn’t stop anyone from reading this masterpiece of South American literature by one of Brasil’s most famous authors. show less
Jorge Amado
Vadinho, that rascally, good-for-nothing, ne’er-do-well gambler and womanizer, drops dead during the middle of Carnaval, leaving his wife Dona Flor a young widow. While her neighbors, friends, and especially her poisonous mother, all rejoice--at last Dona Flor is rid of that lowlife husband--Dona Flor herself is unconsolable. Yes, he was all those bad things--but he was also charming, funny and, most important of all, an absolutely fantastic lover. Modest and upright (except in the iron matrimonial bed), Dona Flor simply can not explain to those around her why she continues to mourn.
But sooner or later, all things pass, and Flor does indeed marry again--Dr. Teodoro, who could not be more show more opposite than the scamp Vadinho. She is happy--but. And out of that "but" arises a situation that only the powers of magic and love can resolve.
On that thread of a story line, Amado wrote 622 pages of an affectionate, humorous paean to sensuality, Brasilian style. Flor is a genius at Bahian (Northeast Brasil) cooking , and food is as important in the story as it is in Brasilian life. But the focus of the story is on Flor and her struggle to be “decent” in the battle between spirit and matter, as she puts it--between her sense of what is right and her longing for her sexually athletic dead husband who lit her original fires and who still is the only one who can quench them totally.
The characters are wonderfully drawn; there are any number of the socially respectable as well as rogues, con artists, and neighborhood gossips. The description of Northeast Brasilian life in the Bahian capital of Ilheus in the mid-twentieth century is captivating. The practice of candomblé--a combination of Yaruba (West Africa) religion and Roman Catholicism--is very much alive both today in Brasil and in the book, and there are some lively, dramatic scenes involving Exu, Yamenjá, and other Yaruban deities in Amado's touch of magical realism.
Even by South American literature standards, this book is overly long; it could have been edited by 100 pages and still have been just as funny, just as sensuous and a better read. But that shouldn’t stop anyone from reading this masterpiece of South American literature by one of Brasil’s most famous authors. show less
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Author Information
148+ Works 10,760 Members
Jorge Amado, August 10, 1912 - August 6, 2001 Elected to the Brazilian Academy of Letters, Jorge Amado possesses a talent for storytelling as well as a deep concern for social and economic justice. He was born in Bahia, Brazil, in 1912. Some critics claim that his early works suffer from his politics. Others commonly express reservations show more concerning Amado's sentimentality and erotico-mythic stereotyping. In the works represented in English translation, his literary merits prevail. The Violent Land (1942) chronicles the development of Brazilian territory and struggles for its resources, memorializing the deeds of those who built the country. Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon (1958), which achieved critical and popular success in both Brazil and the United States, tells a sensual love story of a Syrian bar owner and his beautiful cook. Home Is the Sailor (1962) introduces Captain Vasco Moscoso de Aragao, a comic figure in the tradition of Don Quixote. In Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands (1966), Amado introduced the folk culture of shamans and Yorube gods. The protagonists of Shepherds of the Night (1964) are Bahia's poor. (Bowker Author Biography) Jorge Amado has been called the greatest twentieth-century Brazilian novelist. He was born in 1912 in Ilheus, in the northeastern-most state of Bahai. This area serves as the backdrop for most of Amado's work, which reflects a deep appreciation of the Brazilian essence. Amado's works have made him a national figure in Brazil. Amado's early novels were shaped by a belief in Marxism, and relate the sufferings of humble fishermen and cocoa plantation workers. By the 1950s, he had turned his attention to the plight of middle-class Bahains. This more jovial approach brought him worldwide acclaim, and his keen comic sense and appreciation of the common man have drawn comparisons to the novels of Charles Dickens. Music, cuisine, and passion figure prominently in Amado's literary output. Amado's works have been translated from Portuguese into more than forty languages, have sold over fifty million copies worldwide, and have been reworked for film, television, and stage. His portraits of commanding female characters, including Gabriela from Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon, and Dona Flor from Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands, have been adapted to the screen, and actress Sonia Braga earned her initial success in these roles. Other titles include The Sand Captains; Memory of a Child; The War of the Saints; and Home Is the Sailor. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
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Common Knowledge
- Canonical title
- Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands
- Original title
- Doña Flor e seus dois maridos
- Original publication date
- 1966
- People/Characters*
- Dona Florípedes "Flor" Paiva; Valdomiro "Vadinho" Santos Guimarães; Teodoro Madureira
- Important places
- Salvador, Bahia, Brazil
- Related movies
- Dona Flor e Seus Dois Maridos (1976 | IMDb)
- Epigraph
- God is fat.
(revelation of Vadinho upon his return)
The Earth is blue.
(confirmed Yuri Gagarin after the first space flight)
A place for everything and everything in its place.
(Motto on the wall of the... (show all) pharmacy of Dr. Teodoro Madureira)
Ahhh!
(sighed dona Flor) - Dedication
- For Zelia, in the quiet afternoon of garden and cats, in the warm tenderness of this April; for João and Paloma, in the morning of first readings and of first dreams.
For Norma dos Guimarães Sampiao, an accidental ch... (show all)aracter, whose presence honors and illuminates these pale words. For Beatriz Costa, of whom Vadinho was a sincere admirer. For Eneida, who had the privilege of hearing the National Anthem played on the bassoon by Dr. Teodoro Madureira. For Giovanna Bonino, who owns an oil painting by José de Dome - a portrait of the adolescent dona Flora, in ochres and yellows. Four friends united here in the affection of the author.
For Diaulas Riedel e Luiz Monteiro. - First words
- “Vadinho, Dona Flor’s first husband died on a Sunday of Carnival, in the morning, when, wearing a Bahiana costume, he was sambaing in a bloco, happy as ever, not far from home.”
- Original language
- Portuguese
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
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- Fiction and Literature, General Fiction, Romance
- DDC/MDS
- 869.3 — Literature & rhetoric Spanish, Portuguese, Galician literatures Literatures of Portuguese and Galician languages Portuguese fiction
- LCC
- PQ9697 .A647 .D618 — Language and Literature French, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese literatures Portuguese literature Provincial, local, colonial, etc. Brazil
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