The digital ruins of Amores expressos

The digital ruins of Amores expressos

Cecily Raynor[*]

[*] Assistant Professor of Hispanic Studies and Digital Humanities in the Department of Languages, Literatures and Cultures at McGill University, in Montreal, Quebec, Canada.


Neste artigo, eu examino blogs oficiais do projeto “Amores Expressos”, publicados pela editora brasileira Companhia das Letras. Sendo assim, sugiro que essas webpages promovem um vislumbre digital na evolução do projeto e algumas delas demonstram-se deficientes pra tal. Ao mesmo tempo, é importante destacar que o autor e curador da página “Amores Expressos” integra a genealogia digital de produção cultural brasileira durante uma fase crítica de internacionalização no início do século 21.

Palavras chaves: Literatura brasileira contemporânea, blogs, arquivos vituais, humanidades digitais, estudos culturais


In this article, I examine the official blogs of the Amores Expressos project from Brazilian publishing house, Companhia das Letras. In doing so, I argue that these webpages provide a digital glimpse into the project's evolution and some of its shortcomings. At the same time, these author-curated pages form part of the digital genealogy of Brazilian cultural production during its critical phase of internationalization in the onset of the 21st century. 

Keywords: Contemporary Brazilian literature, blogging, web-archives, digital humanities, cultural studies

As contemporary Latin American literature becomes ever more digitally embedded, it is imperative that we examine the web as a space for the creation, dissemination, and reproduction of texts. Turning to the web proves vital as we push into an era in which online writing is not only commonplace but increasingly the standard. At the same time, like any space, the web must be visited in order for it to be maintained, with digital ruins (abandoned websites) a staple of the twenty-first century. Rather than characterizing the web as ephemeral, web archiving tools remind us that virtual realms are more permanent than meets the eye. Digital archives are abundant across the web, including the vast repository of cached sites on, where scholars gain insight into the historical documents of the writable web, including archived literary web pages. In this article, I examine the official blogs of the Amores Expressos project from Brazilian publishing house, Companhia das Letras. In doing so, I argue that these webpages provide a digital glimpse into the project's evolution and some of its shortcomings. At the same time, these author-curated pages form part of the digital genealogy of Brazilian cultural production during its critical phase of internationalization in the onset of the 21st century.

Literary and Historical Context

The collection of blogs associated with Amores Expressos was a mandatory component for writers involved in a Companhia das Letras literary project that sent sixteen Brazilian authors abroad for one-month to write a 'love story' (see Figure 1)  The project has often been compared to its Hispanic counterpart, Año Zero, from the year 2000, in which a series of Latin American writers were sent abroad with a similar task. Upon their return, the novelists would have the opportunity to publish their works. In the end, not all were published by Companhia das Letras, nor have all of the initial projects been completed as of 2017. Authors have expanded upon the notion of a love-story, with Luiz Ruffato utilizing the vice of smoking as a metaphor for his protagonist's complex relationship with Brazil. In total, sixteen of the original authors of the Amores Expressos project participated in the blogs.[1] The fate of these online artifacts reflects some of the complexities of the project itself, which has undergone a number of permutations and taken a range of directions, including some notable tensions between the publisher and its writers. From the perspective of financing, looking back to the blog's headers is illuminating: we can see a remnant of its original envisioning as films rather than novels as evidenced in the inclusion of the RT Features logo, the Brazilian film company originally tasked with carrying out the projects (Figure 2). However, the funding necessary to create large-scale, transnational films presented a major challenge to this original vision, and it was eventually decided that rather than resulting in film scripts, the authors would compose novels.

The critical reception of the Amores Expressos novels has been mixed in the Brazilian literary community with some books, such as Bernardo Carvalho’s O filho da mãe (2009) and Ruffato's Estive em Lisboa e lembrei de você receiving generous critical reception, other works not. Some authors have been eliminated from the original project and others have been added. Additionally, a handful of film adaptations have been considered and produced, including Estive em Lisboa e lembrei de você (2015), a bi-national production between Brazilian Refinaria Filmes and the Portuguese film company, David & Golias, directed by José Barahona. Importantly, Amores Expressos coincides with a political and historical moment in Brazil in which the country experienced a systematic effort to internationalize its cultural production. During the first two decades of the 21st century, these efforts can be noted in local, national and international examples. The Brazilian National Library in Rio funded a series of translation projects of Brazilian works into English, and the Frankfurt International Book Fair shed light upon Brazilian literature in 2013, as it chose Brazil to be center-stage led by a provocative speech from Luiz Ruffato on the continued socioeconomic and educational divide in Brazil.

Many scholars have attributed this turn outward to the two major international events of this timeframe, the 2013 World Cup and the 2016 Summer Olympic Games in Rio. Of significance is the fact that Amores Expressos is not a project in translation, but rather one in which its authors seemingly engage the world by writing novels that take place in non-Brazilian settings. This begs the question as to what better way to project Brazil as internationally entrenched than to fund novels in which Brazilian writers actively write about themes and geographies extending beyond Brazil? This deliberate shifting of the physical sites of the sixteen novels, originally conceived, reminds us of the importance of cultural production in the reconstructing of a nation's proposed imaginary from one that is primarily preoccupied with the local, the regional, and the national, to one with increasingly broader questions and horizons. At the same time, the deliberate nature of the project and the fate of many of the novels remind us the near impossibility of such a forced internationalization project, cracking the façade of Brazil’s insertion into global cosmopolitanism in a similar way to Ruffato’s speech at the Frankfurt International Book Festival.[2]

Digital Relics in the Writable Web

Despite their shortcomings, the Amores Expressos blogs offer a time-sensitive glimpse into the ways authors directly interacted with their foreign locales and digital readership during the writing of their novels. When considering the original goals of Companhia das Letras, what better supposedly transnational space is there than the Blogosphere to expose the globality of Brazilian literature? Indeed, all of the blogs received some commentary, from personal anecdotes on life abroad, to reactions on the posting and sharing of pictures, or video. Interactive media changes the ways in which bloggers read and write- with digital literacy often visual and interactive. Interactive blogging takes this idea to new heights, with authors adapting content to reader sentiment. The reverse is also true, as digital poetics jump from screen to text: writers such as Chilean Claudia Apablaza reference Twitter and others like Portuguese Isabela Figueiredo compose their work in the form of tweets. In this way, cyberpoetics are not confined by the digital space but operate in dialogue with the analog world. Digital writing also speaks to the changing role of authorship in contemporary Latin American writing. Josefina Ludmer elaborates on this change, stating: “Ya rige un desinterés por la autoría como horizonte de coherencia conceptual, y también existen experiencias de autorías colectivas como la de Wikipedia, Wu Ming, y las novelas colaborativas de los blogs” (6). As these trends increase, it becomes challenging to pin down the place of the author.

Contemplating the Amores Expressos project broadly, the blogosphere prompts us to consider these posts as digital relics, an archive attached to its initial goals and objectives. Indeed, the blog’s destiny reflects the fate of the project at large, which shifted away from online writing. Like much on the web, the blogs have an abandoned air to them. In fact, it is this very state that draws our attention. Why were they abandoned and to what end? Moreover, why were they never removed fully from the web and allowed to stand vacant, a digital ruin? Their lack of a header reminds us that much like physical spaces, web pages are similarly enacted. In this way, the site’s visitors are its inhabitants and keep the spaces alive. When a website loses traffic (visitors, i.e., digital inhabitants), its images cease to be cached and eventually it is disregarded by search engines entirely. Without visitors, the digital veneer deteriorates and digital grass grows over formerly visible images and pages.

The Amores Expressos blogs also give a chronological depth to the project, expanding our understanding of the parameters of Brazilian literature and the limits of our knowledge. According to Michel Foucault, the confines of all human knowledge are bound by our discursive archive, establishing the possibility of what can be interpreted. Foucault stresses the temporality of collective knowledge, calling the archive, the “border of time that surrounds our presence, which overhangs it, and which indicates it in its otherness; it is that which, outside ourselves, delimits us” (Archaeology 129). Tapping into the vast archive of the web, the limits of our digital knowledge expand. This depth is something that only comes from time, as the virtual realm is transformed from a fleeting set of individual pages to a complex library of caches. As online archiving tools become more sophisticated and widespread, they shed further light upon the multifaceted terrain of digital writing, adding new dimensions to our understanding of contemporary Latin American Literature. Jill Lepore speaks to this new temporal dimension stating that, “Eventually [...] the Web will have a time dimension, a way to get from now to then, effortlessly, a fourth dimension. And then the past will be inescapable, which is as terrifying as it is interesting.” Indeed, we will one day be able to surf the web as if we were sitting at our computers at any given moment in its history. The implications for literary studies when considering these future advances are vast. Adding a time dimension will illuminate the changing dynamic between authors spaces, places, and readers.

Another important consideration for the future of digital artifacts, as highlighted by theorists including Marlene Manoff, is the inherent duality within them: it is in the web's limitlessness as a storage place for human knowledge that its insecurity lies, “On the one hand, computers are seen as the ultimate memory tool capable of providing access to everything ever written. On the other hand, the digital record is liable to manipulation, distortion or erasure. In such an environment, we cling to our libraries and our artifacts even as we dream of ever more encompassing virtual collections” (379). The risk of losing digital archives raises a series of questions for web-based literary texts including how to protect digital resources, the role of analogue texts in an increasingly digitized era, and the importance of preserving digital cultural production using non-digital methods. While archivists continue to assign value to particular types of digital production and go out of their way to preserve certain texts, mainly those which has undergone peer-review, what happens to less formalized cultural content in the face of such precarity? If one insists upon the value of more casual forms of writing such as those seen in the literary blogosphere, a staple of the late 20th and early 21st centuries, should we not make a concerted effort towards virtual damage on behalf of this cultural heritage?

Forgotten Blogs

Scholars have all but ignored the abandoned blogs attached to Amores Expressos, given the aforementioned deserted nature of them (Figure 3). The digital evidence I highlight in here stems from caches of the blog found at It is worth mentioning the timeframe in which these blogs were composed, as it may illuminate their envisioned popularity and decline; the vast majority of the posts were written between 2007 and 2009, with the occasional entry as late as 2011. These dates are important because they coincide with a timeframe in the first decade of the 21st century in which blogging was a prominent, popularized form of writing. Since then, many authors in the region have questioned the utility of blogging or perhaps even its death, including Chilean Alberto Fuguet in the final post of his literary blog entitled, “¿El fin de los blogs? El fin, al menos, de éste...”[3] In this post from 2011, Fuguet ruminates on the evolution of digital cultural content, which he notes has taken a dramatic visual turn in the second decade of the 21st century. The author cites platforms including Google+, dating his writing, as well as photo-sharing applications with continued relevance including Instagram and micro-blogs like Tumblr. He argues that more extended digital writing platforms have lost their salience in an online climate marked by visual expression and social media platforms that give preference to the visual over the textual. These are important considerations as we examine the Amores Expressos blogs and consider their multi-dimensionality. Indeed, while it is certainly true that there is a focus on the written word, many of the blogs’ authors play with sound, video and images as a way of communicating their experiences. Thus, while the blogs form part of the heyday of textually focused blogging, they also gesture at an increasingly visual and sound-driven web.

The layout of the blogs is relatively simple. The sites are hosted by the then-popular blogging platform, Blogger, using a basic template with a detailed list of the authors on the right. The header, publisher, author name and city of the bloggers are at the top of each blog, along with links to Companhia das Letras and RT Features. When examining individual entries by the bloggers themselves, it is clear that they failed to incite enthusiasm in all of the writers. A particularly humorous entry by Luiz Ruffato speaks to some of the trials of online writing, as he states in his final of four short posts, “Descubro frustrado que realmente não tenho vocação para blogueiro... não vejo nada de interessante que possa ser comunicado aos outros” (see Figure 4). This comment reveals that while the web theoretically made Amores Expressos writers more accessible during the creative process, not all of them were interested in or saw the merit of such communication. In contrast to Ruffato, however, Bernardo Carvalho writes lengthy, detailed posts and includes photos and videos from St. Petersburg to start each entry. The contrast between Ruffato’s four lack-luster posts and Carvalho’s lively content production show both sides of the spectrum; on the one hand, we get a pretty significant perspective into the writing process of an author as he ruminates on a foreign city. On the other hand, we note the tediousness of blog-writing for a disinterested, obliged participant in the project, producing few digital traces. It is also worth noting that while Carvalho celebrates the digital medium in its multiple facets, through text, image and sound, Ruffato includes nothing but a few short lines and does not seem to be concerned with exploiting the multimedia possibilities facilitated by the web.

What scholars also observe in the blogs are examples of ruptured, failed or tense relationships between the publisher, Companhia das Letras, and some of its writers. The examples I highlight here are that of Cecília Gianetti and Antonio Prata, then turning to Adriana Lisboa. In the case of Gianetti, her final post speaks for itself. Written in January of 2009, the author informs readers that her thirty days in Berlin will not result in a novel funded by Companhia das Letras. She goes to write that the novel has received critical merit but that it will likely be released by another Brazilian publishing house Editora Record, the publisher of some of her other works. However, it is worth noting that as of 2017, Gianetti never published the work upon which her time in Berlin was based. In her blog she comments, “Não vou entrar nos detalhes da recusa (e em outras coisas relativas a essa coisa toda) porque já o fiz em meu ‘blog official’ e essa conversa já encheu.” Of interest here, is the fact that Gianetti felt obliged to write a final note, a fact that both gestures at a readership of the blog while also speaking to the sense of obligation she felt to provide news on the novel to which the blog was attached. This extends beyond her contractual obligation and speaks to a personal connection between blogger and digital reader. At the same time, the tone of the post is both short and later sarcastic, as Gianetti seems to indicate a relationship of patronage between certain writers and the press, wishing those authors without such connections luck, “Torçam pelos outros autores. Especialmente por aqueles que não forem ‘autores da Companhia’ (risos).”  This commentary and the inserted laugh she includes in parentheses, seem to imply a type of publication guarantee to which she and others were not privy. Naturally, this raises ethical questions about the implied relationship of patronage that might exist between the publisher and some of its authors, forcing readers to question the process of review to which the novels were subjected. Indeed, the transparency of the web is a double-edged sword, shedding further light upon why the blogs lay in ruins and why the project’s main page, entitled simply Amores Expressos, is no longer available in general Google searches and only retrievable via the Internet Archive (see Figure 5).

In the case of authors such as Antonio Prata, who spent his thirty days in Shanghai, the writer uses his final blog post as a platform for announcing his next literary blog. In his final remarks from 2011, he publicizes his new digital home, providing the corresponding URL for readers. Of interest in this particular exchange is Prata’s attempt at building digital continuity between these two spaces, drawing readers into his arena for textual dispersion. Not only does this speak to a readership built through the Amores Expressos blog, it also highlights the perceived importance of a connection between theses two spaces. Much like Gianetti, Prata’s novel was never published, neither with this press nor any other, freezing this content in a perpetual state of non-realization. Prata did go on to publish other works with Companhia das Letras, but none of them would correlate directly to the content gathered in Shanghai. Following the digital trail a bit further, readers discover that Prata only maintained his follow-up blog for a twelve-month period, before abandoning it to become a successful columnist and writer of chronicles and short stories for, Folha de São Paolo.

This progression is in line with broader developments of literary writing on the web in Brazil. As scholars, we have seen the transition from individual blogs to institutional blogging platforms, to literary, cultural and opinion columns in major newspapers. While blogs were formerly considered innovative spaces for content creation, writers are increasingly turning to more regulated and official digital zones such as newspapers that offer regular funding, and a steady and broad readership that extends beyond what they might be able to serendipitously acquire through search engines, word of mouth, or reputation. Interestingly, this is also the case for the blog-resistant Luiz Ruffato, who now writes a weekly column in Portuguese for the Brazilian edition of the Spanish newspaper, El País, among other writing arenas.[4] Of equal importance is the fact that Ruffato now regularly updates an extensive personal blog dedicated to evaluating what he deems ‘classics’ of literature, a site he maintains through Blog-Spot. Given his sentiments on blogging a decade ago, this turn of events is meaningful, marking a shift for him towards more digitally based writing. He began the blog in 2015 and has consistently updated its content writing over forty posts per year.  

Case Study: Adriana Lisboa

Exploiting the digital nature of texts in the web-archive makes possible new types of reading and analyzing literary content. In methods similar to what Franco Moretti deems, ‘Distant readings’ or using aggregate volumes of textual content to visual trends and test research questions, scholars are now able to examine large amounts of data within a singular visual (2015). Thus, not only do web-archives make cultural analysis possible at the micro level, both visually and textually, they also gather materials that can be panoramically investigated in ways not facilitated by analogue archives. Not only can researchers manually copy and paste texts from the web and use out-of-the box tools to study them collectively, they are also able to scrape the entire content of a website using advanced tools and programming languages. Using such methods, researchers are able to conduct simple data analysis on issues such as word frequencies across a particular set of digitized blog entries, as well as examine the complex semantic or temporal relationships in a vast body of texts across a wide range of time. It is the task of the investigator to build solid research questions to ask of this rich digital data.

In order to illuminate both types of analysis, I will turn to one case study from Amores Expressos, that of Adriana Lisboa who spent her month abroad in Paris, France. Similar to her peers, Antonio Prata and Cecília Gianetti, Lisboa’s work never came to fruition through Companhia das Letras or any other publishing house as of 2017.[5] When taking a closer look at her blog, a more intimate picture emerges. Lisboa is a carioca writer known for her numerous works including Sinfonia em branco (2001), Rakushisha (2007) and most recently Hanoi (2013). In interviews, she discussed her contribution to the project she playfully entitled, Como escrever uma história de amor em Paris, a novel she stated was picked up by Roco Publishing House out of Rio, but has yet to be published as of 2017. Lisboa’s blog spans just under a month from June nineteenth to July 12th, 2007 and contains thirty posts, an average one per day.  In it, one gains insight into her geographical trajectory, as she maps her points of reference in Paris and beyond, from museums, to bars, to coffee shops and also some of the less known streets and neighborhoods of the city. Lisboa’s writing is notably inter-textual, as she references Julio Cortázar, the Iranian-born French graphic novelist Marjane Satrapi, musicians including American jazz singer Nina Simone, and artists such as Frenchman Robert Delaunay. Indeed, her blog far exceeds a travelogue and includes her own poetry, fictional writings, musings, and photography.

The blog’s inter-disciplinary approach is evocative of broader writing trends in both the digital and analogues spaces of Latin America. Lisboa’s many references to popular culture evoke the poetics of the Macondo movement of the 1990s and writers such as Alberto Fuguet and Edmundo Paz Soldán. When examining Lisboa’s texts as an aggregate, a number of interesting relationships emerge. In the below visualization, I have isolated spatial words across the thirty entries of Lisboa’s blog in order to gain insight into the places she traversed and contemplated during her stay in Paris. The most prominent word in the visualization is in fact sky (céu in Portuguese), which is juxtaposed with other prominent spatial markers across the blog:

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Observing the posts as an aggregate and highlighting frequency, a spatial picture emerges. Sky (céu) is only second in frequency to the most used word, Paris. The indefinite marker, “there” (lá) comes in third, followed by home, “casa,” which leads one in many directions, including Brazil and the United States, where Lisboa resides. Words acting as transitory spaces, including “rua,” which is “street” in Portuguese and “rue” in French follow close behind, as well boulevard and avenue. Undeniably, the use of French linguistic markers reminds readers of the ways in which language catalogues and grounds Lisboa’s sense of space. It is clear that the author has gained an intimacy with the language, using French lexica throughout. This visualization confirms what one may have observed in close readings, while drawing out relationships between words, themes and spaces that would have been impossible to see at the level of individual posts. How might one draw out a research questions from this visualization that speak to the success or failure of the project at large?

Digging a bit deeper into the results of the visualization, scholars are able to observe specific cities to which the author is linked. Looking at Lisboa’s urban references, Paris, São Paulo, and Rio are frequently used, the last of which comes in third in frequency, despite being the author’s hometown. Boulder or even Colorado, where she currently resides, is notably absent. More generic spaces, including city (cidade) and coffee shop (café), tally up just a bit less, a testimony to her route around the city. The universal spatial marker, “world,” comes next, but is far exceeded by the borderless, unifying space of “sky.” When considering this fluidity, Lisboa’s use of the word Brazil is of particular interest. Notably, her homeland is expressed only three times across the blog, twice in Portuguese and once in French, as I have included in the visualization to give a sense of comparison. In French, Brazil is converted from a space expressed with the native intimacy of Portuguese, to one that is immediately seen from the vantage point of the Other, recalled at a distance marked by the geography of foreign language. In this way, both close and distant readings of the blog highlight the softening, expansion and obscuring of national coordinates, as well as the role of language in defining spatial parameters. The fact that the anticipated product of Lisboa’s blog remains in a constant state of ‘forthcoming’ does not take away from its value as a digital artifact. On the contrary, one could make the argument that to fully comprehend the genealogy of Amores Expressos, the failures, ruptures and tensions play an equally significant role. At the same time, the web provides scholars with zones of contact that lay outside of the boundaries of traditional literary criticism, and certainly those of the canon. Examining blogs attached to novels is a vantage point that tests the very boundaries of the literary, an inspiring task for literary scholars of 21st century texts.


The Amores Expressos project illuminates and corresponds to the historical and cultural moment in which it is embedded. Not only can the project be contextualized within a broader framework of internationalization, the online component that its initial sixteen chosen authors were obliged to construct corresponds well with its digital lineage and the heyday of literary blogging. Not only do the blogs augment the perception of globality of the writers and their works, they opened the writing process up to the potential of an, immediate, real-time international readership. However, the fault lines in cyber-utopia mirrored many of the challenges of Amores Expressos itself, as writers resisted, challenged, and even failed to contribute to either digital, analogue or both components. The literary blogs attached to the project make these tensions visible in ways that their analogue counterparts do not. The eventual arrival of a novel allows for the possibility of an enduring future, whereas commentary on a blog speaking to a fractured relationship with the publisher is a more definitive and immediate response.

Despite the ruinous state to which the blogs have been sentenced, the use of Internet archiving tools allows scholars to push further into some of the questions surrounding Amores Expressos in its initial stages and beyond. They give both a chronological depth and a digital genealogy to the project, whose sole finished products are the novels themselves. Literary scholars that subscribe to the Derridean notion that there is nothing outside of the text, might disregard the value of the online writing that this article defends. However, if we look beyond the novels and their critical reception and attempt to evaluate the project at large, the digital artifacts of Amores Expressos become ever vital. At the same time, as seen in the case of Adriana Lisboa, distant readings are made possible in this repository of online writing that are both unique and significant. This is not to mention the possibility of looking at web readership data available via web analytical tools, or examining the links that point to the site across the cyber-sphere. Not only is a digital genealogy of the project made possible in this collection of blogs, but is also evidence of the evolution of digital writing, as many of its authors have turned to more institutionalized spaces for disseminating their reflections on literature. Other writers, as seen in the case of Luiz Ruffato, have taken their writing in unexpected directions through personal blogs emerging in the last couple of years. Irrespective of one’s stance on these and similar digital artifacts, it is clear that web-archives make an entirely new type of analysis possible. It is also clear that digital data will always bear therisk of possible disappearance, with archivists scrambling to find better way to house and preserve large volumes of texts. It is our task as scholars to continue to insist upon the importance of web archives and to fight for their maintenance. One need only turn to the disappearance of official government webpages in the Trump administration or the Internet Archive’s decision to install servers and replicas of its data in Canada to understand that the stakes are high for the invaluable and vulnerable cultural patrimony made available to us on the web.


CARVALHO, Bernardo. O Filho da Mãe. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2009.

FOUCAULT, Michel. The Archeology of Knowledge. Trans. A.M. Sheridan Smith. London: Routledge, 1989.

LEPORE, Jill. “The Cobweb: Can the Internet be Archived?” The New Yorker. 26 Jan. 2015. Web. 18 Mar. 2017.

LISBOA, Adriana. Río. Sinfonia Em Branco. Rio de Janeiro: Alfaguara, 2013.

----. Hanói. Rio de Janeiro: Alfaguara, 2013.

----. Rakushisha. Rio de Janeiro: Alfaguara, 2014.

LUDMER, Josefina. “Lo que viene después.” Universidad Internacional de Andalucía. Sevilla, Spain. 18 Apr. 2012.

MANOFF, Marlene. “The Symbolic Meaning of Libraries in a Digital Age.” Portal: Libraries and the Academy. 1.4 (2001): 371-81. 

MORETTI, Franco. Distant Reading. London: Verso, 2015.

RUFFATO, Luiz. Estive Em Lisboa E Lembrei De Você. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2009. 


Received May 17, 2017; Accepted August 10, 2017


Figure 1: An infographic from the Brazilian newspaper, Folha de São Paulo, in an article by Marco Rodrigo Almeida published on July 27th, 2013. It provides geographic details of the Amores Expressos books published up until that timeframe.


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Figure 2



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Figure 3



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Figure 4



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Figure 5



Figure 6: A similar infographic to the one seen above. Folha de São Paulo visualized those projects that had not been published yet by Companhia das Letras in an infographic entitled, “Amores Incertos” or “Uncertain Loves” on the same day and month, the 27th of July, 2013. 



[1]Adriana Lisboa (Paris),  Amilcar Bettega (Istanbul), André de Leones (San Paulo), Antonia Pellegrino (Mumbai), Antonio Prata (Shangai), Bernardo Carvalho (Saint Petersburg), Cecília Giannetti (Berlin), Chico Mattoso (Havana), Daniel Galera (Buenos Aires), Daniel Pellizzari (Dublin), João Paulo Cuenca (Tokyo), Joca Reiners Terron (Cairo), Lourenço Mutarelli (New York), Luiz Ruffato (Lisbon), Reinaldo Moraes (Mexico City), Sérgio Sant`anna (Prague).

[2] The speech, in its entirety, can be viewed here:

[3] In his final post, Fuguet muses upon the direction that online content production has taken, including its increasingly visual turn, "Mientras todos hablan de Google+ o de la tremenda importancia que tiene Tumblr, mientras un amigo me dice que lo único que le interesa es transmitir mensjaes y emociones a través de las fotos que toma en su iPhone y comparte via www.instagram sus fotos procesadas ("la peor foto te queda cool para qué escribir si pueo transmitir lo que siento con imágenes") pienso en qué pasó con los blogs" (Fuguet 2011).


[5] In a similar infographic to the one seen above, Folha de São Paulo visualized those projects that had not been published yet by Companhia das Letras in an infographic entitled, “Amores Incertos” or “Uncertain Loves” on the same day and month, the 27th of July, 2013. 

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