The period between the fall of the Empire in 1889 and the first burst of modernism in 1922 has often slipped between the cracks of the cultural and intellectual historiography of Brazil. Its cultural artifacts are usually described tangentially, as premodernist, postromantic, or neo-Parnassian. Süssekind, in contrast, identifies the literature of the period as a coherent and crucial stage in the development of Brazilian letters, one characterized primarily by literary reactions to new technologies. She argues that this period gave birth to literature as technique, meaning, on the one hand, the professionalization of writers as journalists and admen, and, on the other, the development of authorial voices deeply shaped by technology.

The book is divided into two principal sections. The first traces the reflections of technology in novels, poetry, and crônicas, or short journalistic essays, a form that Süssekind describes as particularly marked by new technological modes of perception. Much of this section is a mere catalog of references to phonographs and cinema. The second section, far more ambitious and compelling, analyzes “how literary technique changed as it incorporated procedures characteristic of photography, film and poster art” (p. 4).

Süssekind identifies three types of literary approximation of technology—imitation, stylization, and displacement. Imitation involved attempts to reproduce the effects of modern technology (cinema, most prominently) in prose. Stylization involved more subtle adoptions and adaptations of the clipped phrasing, jumps in point of view, and the two-dimensional characters common in the advertising, poster art, and cinema of the period. Displacement involved the rejection of technology and mechanical efficiency in favor of ornate, recondite language. This framework is engaging and lucid, and allows Siissekind to tie together efforts as diverse as João do Rio’s offhand crônicas and Olavo Bilac’s overwrought poetry. The author is most convincing in her discussion of the influence of journalism and advertising on literary production. She links these industries to her concern with technology by pointing out that in this period both changed rapidly as a result of breakthroughs in photographic reproduction. But as she points out, the authors in question overwhelmingly worked for newspapers or wrote advertising copy. The influence of these industries on their more self-consciously artistic work, then, seems direct and occupational, rather than indirect and resulting from the generally pervasive influence of new technology.

Süssekind’s claims for the influence of cinema and the phonograph are far more vague. As she demonstrates, these influences did not become fully manifest until the modernist era: “It was only with the rise of modernist prose that montage and cuts became common in literary technique” (p. 29). This observation makes the literature in question sound premodernist after all, and thus seems to work against Süssekind’s initial premise.

The author notes that most of the novels she considers are “now largely forgotten” (p. 1), but she continually refers to scenes and characters from these works as if they were commonly known, failing to give any contextual information. This off-putting habit points to a more serious drawback: Süssekind fails to persuade the reader that these works are worth investigating as anything other than the canvas on which critics paint their own designs.

That said, the author’s argument regarding the influence of technology on literary perception is provocative and generally convincing, and sheds significant light on the cultural history of the Old Republic. This work was originally published in Portuguese in 1987, and has been elegantly translated here by Paulo Henriques Britto. Süssekind writes a prose of many commas and few periods, and Britto successfully retains the density of her style while avoiding impenetrability.