CRUZ, Eliana Alves. Nada digo de ti, que em ti não veja. Rio de Janeiro: Pallas, 2020.
Luan Sabino Siqueira
Illustrated by Cláudio Rodrigues
Translated by Leila Santos
Just as she did in her previous novel, O crime dos cais do Valongo (The Crime of Valongo Wharf, 2018), in Nada digo de ti, que em ti não veja (I Say Nothing of You That I Do Not See in You, 2020), Eliana Alves Cruz (Rio de Janeiro, RJ, 1966) utilizes common elements of detective novels with the aim of creating an intricate narrative web filled with elements such as love, suspense, action, and drama. By placing her characters in the colonial period, specifically the 18th century, the author uses the past to engage in a necessary discussion of themes that remain relevant to the present.
In her third historical novel, Cruz narrates the trajectory of a formerly enslaved Black travesti (person assigned male at birth who adopts a feminine identity but does not identify as a woman) named Vitória, who uses her astuteness and her gift of clairvoyance to survive in a world and an era that constantly deny the existence of people like her. When she becomes romantically involved with Felipe Gama, a white man from a wealthy family, Vitória, who, as the narrator notes, “felt herself to be female and did not accept being told that she was anything else,” is confronted with the pains and pleasures of a relationship that, a priori, could only be experienced in the shadows, escaping social, racial, and moral prejudices. Felipe, in turn, has been promised in marriage since his childhood to a character named Sianinha, who, like him, is part of a family of New Christians who conceal their Jewish identity out of fear of the Inquisition.
The plot thickens when the inquisitor Friar Alexandre Saldanha Sardinha arrives in Brazil. He is sent by Portugal as a representative of the Tribunal of the Holy Office and seeks to enrich himself through the discovery of gold in Minas Gerais while bearing responsibility for judging the possible transgressions and sins of the colony’s inhabitants, thereby instilling fear throughout the population. From this moment onward, the figure of a mysterious informant emerges, issuing threats through anonymous letters that endanger not only Felipe and Vitória’s secret relationship, but also the true origins of the Muniz and Gama families.
Around this impossible and compelling love story, a social structure characteristic of colonial times forms, whose remnants persist in contemporary society. Thus, in both the present and past, we encounter violence against minorities, whether it is Black people, women, or LGBTQIAP+ individuals; religious persecution, embodied by the Inquisition; and greed and ambition, which lead to human exploitation by other humans. With regard to the last theme, the novel details the ways in which enslaved Black people working in the gold mines were exploited. It is through the voice of one of them that we come to know the horrors and violence perpetuated by a system designed to grind people down, destroying them physically and spiritually: “The loud noise of irons, hammers, and pickaxes against the walls does not stop for hours and hours and hours….It is extremely dangerous because it leaves overseers and slaves deaf, and those who dig, over time, also become blind because of the dust and splinters that come off the rocks.”
The narrative unfolds between Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, as some of the characters travel in a convoy toward the region that accounted for most of the colony’s profits at the time, attracting the interest of both the rulers of the metropolis and local and foreign adventurers alike. It is at this point that characters like Zé Savalu and Balthazar Gama gain prominence, and the author imbues the story with an adventurous tone that evokes the literary tradition of swashbuckling novels.
Savalu is an enslaved man originally from the Kingdom of Dahomey who, since arriving in Brazil, has always served the Muniz family. In love with Quitéria, another enslaved person, he experiences harassment from Sianinha, who has a strange obsession with her household slaves. As a result of this persecution, he is sent by Branca Muniz, Sianinha’s mother, to Minas Gerais along with the members of the convoy. He sees this as an opportunity to secure both his own freedom and that of his people, especially that of his future child, thus embodying the broader struggle of Black people for the abolition of slavery. It is together with Felipe that Zé Savalu discovers a map containing a treasure, which will later help him purchase his freedom. On the other hand, Balthazar Gama, Felipe’s older brother, is a rude, domineering man accustomed to brutalizing all those weaker than himself. Balthazar runs the family’s affairs in the mining region with an iron fist; regarded as the embodiment of cruelty, he is a slave owner involved in illicit dealings involving the smuggling of precious stones.
In Nada digo de ti, que em ti não veja, all of the characters have reasons for keeping their respective secrets, whether because their social practices were considered illegal under the legislative code of the time or because of the impossibility of openly assuming their own desires or their true identities. Threatened by the laws in the Ordenações Filipinas, a kind of penal code, the narrative appears to support the thesis that, in a world where freedom is not a principle, everyone ultimately needs subterfuge and disguises to survive, especially those who point the finger in accusation: “Branca never questioned family customs, as they were a natural part of her life, and she saw no conflict in them. However, she gradually became aware of the urgent need to maintain absolute silence about the intimacy of her home.”
Divided into five parts, the novel strategically unfolds the narrative to build momentum, allowing the author to employ a series of strategies to ensure that the reader becomes aware of the schemes that entangle the plot, such as the incorporation of other textual genres into the main text. These take the form of anonymous letters and diary entries, all of which are elements that help unravel the mysteries presented throughout the story. In this sense, a key figure in the majority of the schemes that drive the plot is Diogo, Sianinha’s uncle, who was made a vicar in order to conceal the Jewish origins of the Muniz family. However, his repressed passion for Felipe leads him to betray both families by threatening to reveal not only his niece’s fiancé’s relationship with Vitória, but also the secret of the Muniz and Gama families.
Furthermore, another focal point of the story is the figure of the narrator. Constructed as an omniscient voice, the narrator possesses knowledge of all the events narrated, translating the feelings and reactions of the characters and making witty comments, full of irony and sarcasm: “I am a confessed busybody, one of the most terrible gossips. I end up revealing everything I see without mercy or embellishment […] There it is: the future is the residence of dreams, expectations, achievements, and ridicule. What a strange family!” In the end, the narrating voice reveals itself to be Kitembo, an nkisi that, in Afro-Brazilian religions, represents time and is therefore responsible for bringing the events of the past to the present audience, while simultaneously projecting the possibility of a future that can break with the violence of the past.
Currently, Eliana Alves Cruz has established herself as one of the most relevant names within contemporary Brazilian literature by Black authors. By constructing a body of work in which dialogue with historical events gains centrality in her narratives, especially those related to the formation of the Black population in Brazil, the author reaffirms archival research and gives new meaning to the lives of those individuals who were seen as ‘infamous,’ to use Foucault’s term, making this a valuable exercise in imaginative power.
Further Reading:
ARRIAGADA, Raul Ignacio Valdivia (2021). Nada digo de ti, que em ti não veja, de Eliana Alvez Cruz: uma análise literária e comparativa do romance histórico sob o olhar feminino. Revista Decifrar, v. 9, n. 18, p. 50-59.
AUGUSTO, Guilherme (2020). Novo romance de Eliana Alves Cruz expõe o apartheid brasileiro. Estado de Minas. Disponível em: https://www.em.com.br/app/noticia/cultura/2020/06/29/interna_cultura,1160714/novo-romance-de-eliana-alves-cruz-expoe-o-apartheid-brasileiro.shtml. Acesso em: 28 maio 2023.
BARBOSA, Roberta Tiburcio (2022). Diálogos interculturais em Nada digo de ti, que em ti não veja. Travessias Interativas, v. 12, n. 25, p. 272–280. Disponível em: https://periodicos.ufs.br/Travessias/article/view/16764. Acesso em: 30 maio 2023.
FOUCAULT, Michel (2018). A vida dos homens infames. In: FOUCAULT, Michel. O que é um autor? Trad. António Fernando Cascais e Eduardo Cordeiro. 10. ed. Lisboa: Nova Vega. p. 89-128.
ROSSI, Clóvis (2011). Nem fim do mundo nem mundo novo. Folha de S. Paulo.
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