Review of a short but successful collaboration
In her essay that compares Júlia Lopes de Almeida and Carmen Dolores, Rachel Soihet pointed out that certain conservative positions of the ‘A semana’ columnist contradicted her defence of women’s right to work, to education, to divorce, and to make free use of their lives and assets. Therefore, she could not be seen, unreservedly, as ‘progressive’.
1 Rachel Soihet, ‘Comparando escritos: Julia Lopes de Almeida e Carmen Dolores’, Caderno Espaço Feminino, 9, 10–11 (2001), pp. 85–107. For Eliane Vasconcellos, ‘her feminism was of half-measures’, as she still worshipped in her chronicles the ‘figure of the good mother’ and did not demand political participation for women.
2 Eliane Vasconcellos, ‘Carmem Dolores’, in Emília Moncorvo Bandeira de Melo (pseudonym Carmen Dolores), Carmem Dolores: crônicas, Eliane de Vasconcellos (ed.) (Rio de Janeiro: Arquivo Público do Estado do Rio de Janeiro, 1998), pp. 13–14. It could be added that nothing was further from her horizon than current discussions about the genre as cultural fiction or identity constructed through repeated performative acts.
3 Judith Butler, Problemas de gênero: feminismo e subversão da identidade, Renato Aguiar (trans.), Joel Birman (technical review) (13th edn, Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira, 2017), pp. 240–244.Such restrictions would not have occurred to the Brazilian public of the early twentieth century, who were probably scandalised by the ‘possible’ feminism defended by Carmen Dolores, whose views were very advanced if compared to the conservative positions of Carvalho, first female contributor of
O País (see Chapter 1). For Jic, with Carmen Dolores, ‘Feminism had found in Brazil a brilliant and fearsome pen, and the most daring, the most faithful, the most sincere of defenders’.
4 Jic, ‘Carmen Dolores’, Correio da Manhã, 17 Jan. 1908, p. 1. Her positions, which were far from conventional and, above all, coming from a woman, surprising, must have significantly attracted readers to her column. At the beginning of the twentieth century, only the Portuguese writer Ana Osório de Castro, who also published some articles in
O País (see Chapter 1), could be compared to her in defending a clearly feminist agenda in the Portuguese-speaking world.
5 Eduardo da Cruz. ‘Uma Feminista Portuguesa no Brasil. A Propaganda de Ana de Castro Osório no Romance Mundo Novo’, Revista Araticum, 19, 1 (2019), pp. 40–41, <www.periodicos.unimontes.br/index.php/araticum/article/view/107>. It could be said that Emília Moncorvo Bandeira de Melo made Carmen Dolores into a character who was always expected to have an opinion that differed from common sense and the courage to tell certain ‘truths’ with ‘frankness’ to the fearsome bigwigs of politics, journalism, and literature. Contemporaries saw in the pseudonym a clear reference to Carmen, a fascinating character from Bizet’s opera of the same name, who manipulated men just for her own pleasure and preferred to die rather than submit herself again to a lover she had previously repudiated.
6 See Agripino Grieco, ‘Carmen Dolores’, A Imprensa, 18 Aug. 1910, p. 1. Her declarations of love for D. Pedro II and her nostalgy for the good times of the empire, by herself considered harmless, would have irritated the republicans; while she displeased the monarchists with her firm anti-clerical stance.
It is more than likely that, during the Belle Époque, experienced journalists forged controversies or, when they arose spontaneously, encouraged their continuation as a strategy to attract public attention and feed the ever-hungry newspaper columns (see Introduction by Ana Cláudia Suriani da Silva and Tania Regina de Luca). Some advantages were therefore guaranteed and could compensate for animosities and possible reprisals. But what could a gentleman do against a weak delicate lady whom he could not threaten with canes or challenge to a duel, as sometimes happened between men? He could try to hit her with words; but the ‘A semana’ columnist foiled them and was capable of striking very painful blows on her opponents.
A study of the ‘A semana’ column soon reveals the combativeness of its author, Carmen Dolores. In the ambit of the Rio intelligentsia, the chronicler built solid alliances. Her sponsor Guanabara, a first-rate journalist, opened the doors of journalism to her by entrusting her with the Sunday column of the influential morning newspaper O País, despite the writer’s declared monarchism. Her other sponsor, Coelho Neto, meanwhile, who gave a speech at her graveside, was the guarantor of her literary talent. Carmen Dolores was also adept at cultivating mutually supportive relationships with up-and-coming writers such as João do Rio and Câmara Reis. Responsible for a relatively popular column, she reached out to reasonably obscure youngsters such as Oscar Lopes, Goulart de Andrade, and Hermes Fontes. This attitude was likely the result of an expectation of some future compensation. Not even the sorrows caused by the ‘ungrateful’ O’Donnell pushed her off this path.
In this ambit, where she acquired a reputation as a courageous columnist, Carmen Dolores initiated and prolonged polemics with opponents with fearsomely long track records in journalism.
In theatre criticism, so prodigal in polemics, she presented an uncompromising defence of French artists such as Bernhardt and Coquelin, who, criticised inelegantly by Medeiros e Albuquerque, had fervent admirers in Rio de Janeiro. There were therefore advantages to being a champion of these celebrities, even if it was the paradoxical advantage of being the target of the ironies of an influential journalist like Medeiros e Albuquerque, who was also a prominent figure among the republicans.
Carmen Dolores also criticised the spelling reform project defended by Medeiros e Albuquerque and, in this battle, received the circumstantial and ambiguous support of Laet.
However, this staunch Ultramontane, a seasoned polemicist in political journalism, did not approve of Carmen Dolores’ feminist positions and particularly her campaign in favour of divorce. Of course, given that Laet was an inveterate polemicist, the differences between the two journalists soon became clear and the controversy in which they clashed took on rather violent aspects on both sides.
There was, however, no way back. Someone like Carmen Dolores, who had acquired an enviable literary reputation for the sincerity and courage of her opinions, could no longer afford the luxury of fleeing from the fight, however rough and unpleasant it became. As she made journalism her profession and occupied in O País a role traditionally performed by men, she accepted all the risks inherent to this public activity and spoke out on the main issues of her time without fear of displeasing powerful people and institutions with her ‘virile talent’.