38 pages • 1 hour read
Fábio Moon, Gabriel BáA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Character Analysis
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
“People die every day. That was the most comforting thought Brás had while all the obituaries he wrote at the newspaper flashed before him. He just realized that, even when he’s not writing about it…people will keep dying.”
Early on in the book, the reader is introduced to Brás and his job as an obituary writer. Brás conveys the irony of being an obituary writer who wishes to write a novel about life itself—even when he is out living, people continue to die. This also introduces ideas about the life cycle that will be mentioned throughout the narrative.
“I didn’t mind anything back then. I thought I was going to live life to its fullest, and then later I would write about it all. I wanted to write about life, Jorge, and look at me now…All I write about is death.”
Brás faces an existential crisis at age 32, sharing his fears that he is wasting his time writing about death rather than spending his life trying to fulfill his dream to become a writer. This sets up one of the central tensions of Daytripper: The protagonist struggles to make sense of vital moments in his life and fit them into a narrative. In addition, this quote sets up Brás’s own desire to accept his mortality.
“[Genarinho:] It would still be his bar, and I would still be his son. [Brás:] We’re all somebody’s son, right?”
During the first chapter of the book, Brás struggles with living in his father’s shadow. This is further provoked when an event held in his father’s honor is scheduled on Brás’s birthday. The bartender empathizes with living in his father’s shadow, yet they acknowledge that it is impossible to fully sever themselves from their fathers, even as they make their own way in the world.
“Brás de Oliva Domingos shared with his father, Benedito de Oliva Domingos, the passion for the written word and, if it was not for his sudden death in a robbery gone bad in down town São Paulo, would certainly have become just as revered. Just like Shakespeare, Brás died on his birthday. He was 32 years old.”
This is the first mini-obituary written about Brás after one of his many “deaths.” It sets the precedent that each chapter will end with what the protagonist’s legacy will be if he dies at this particular moment. In Chapter 1, Brás is concerned with following his own path as a writer, separately from his father, while also fearing that he will never live up to his full potential.
“And there he was, dreaming about the future. It looked bright and right and ready for him. There was no scary mystery to it and it was right around the corner. Then Brás woke up and realized that, when you turn that corner, that future have you written and wished for is not always there waiting for you. In fact, it usually isn’t at all what you expected…around the corner is just another big annoying question mark. It’s called life.”
As a young man, Brás feels the pressure to choose the “right” path out of the many paths his life could take. He calls these decisions an “annoying question mark” because he is unsure of what the right next choice should be. This is also a reference to his dream with Iemanjá earlier on in the chapter, which introduces ideas of fate and destiny. While Brás waits to “turn that corner,” his future is actually about to be written regardless of the choices he makes.
“As far as they know, you’re from another planet, dude. Planet White.”
Jorge says this to Brás after he is called a tourist and a gringo (slang for White boy) in a seaside tourist town. He is referencing both the complicated race and class politics in Brazil, as well as the fact that Brás, who is White, is not usually treated as an outsider or visitor. This is also a statement that can be interpreted as one that applies to all people—life is temporary, we all feel out of place in one way or another, and therefore we are all merely “tourists” in this world. Brás’s existence is one that is temporary, yet still protected and bolstered by privilege.
“I don’t know where he works or what he does, but I know he’s living this moment and absorbing all that this place has to offer him. I can tell he’s not taking pictures because it’s his job or because he was told to. That’s who he is. I’m sure if I could see his pictures, that through his camera he’s telling what he sees. That’s what he wants. It’s through his photos that he tells us his dreams.”
Olinda says this to Brás to remind him that life is not all about a person’s career or ambition. She uses Jorge and his photography as a way to point out how he might learn to live in the moment. In addition, she points out that by making art that is of the moment, Brás can “tell us his dreams” just like Jorge does.
“Life is made of these moments, son. Relationships are based on such moments, such choices, such actions…and that’s the one moment I will carry with me after all others fade—the one which makes all the others worthwhile. You should look for such moments in life, son. Moments you’ll need forget.”
This quote is said by Benedito to Brás. Daytripper is, indeed, organized around the principle he lays out here. The book is divided in chapters that are marked by the choices, actions, and moments that Brás will never forget. His life isn’t linear so much as it is marked by the new or evolving parts of himself.
“But isn’t he really saying with all his Lolas that, no matter how many women you see…there’s always that one woman you’re thinking of?”
Brás goes to an art gallery to view the work of an artist who only makes art of one woman, Lola, in a variety of perspectives and media. This quote is based off of his recent break-up with Olinda. Brás projects what he is feeling onto the artist’s work in order to feel less lonely and stuck. Daytripper is arguably similar to the artist’s gallery show—each chapter represents the protagonist’s life from a variety of perspectives, possibilities, and paths, and no matter which one you read, they all tell a part of Brás’s story.
“Then, of course, he remembers what his father had been saying all these years—and it all made sense. The moment that won’t fade. The moment we all search for. The moment that he found, or that found him. Inside, he knew. It felt right, and he knew. He has to tell her. Have you ever felt so alive—as if everything is possible? She might already know. She might have even felt it, too. ‘This is it,’ he thought. The moment where life truly begins.”
After locking eyes with his future wife, Brás is suddenly able to understand his father’s advice about life being made of “moments that won’t fade.” However, he views this moment as the one “where life truly begins,” though arguably Brás’s life has still been meaningful before he meets Ana. Seeing her, however, he’s hopeful that “everything is possible” and that so many more choices may lie ahead with her by his side.
“He used to try to imagine what his father was doing when he locked himself in that room for so long. What he could be writing about now—what he would be reading? Books were a part of Benedito’s greatest passion and, if Brás could be a part of that world, we could assure his place in his father’s heart. But his father’s heart had stopped beating.”
This scene takes place just after Benedito passes away and Brás’s son Miguel is born. Brás articulates what has fueled his desire to write a book his father might be proud of: Benedito loved writing books so much they began to symbolize his heart. This text is juxtaposed with an illustration of Brás’s book on his father’s desk, making clear that he finally did earn that place in his father’s heart that he cherished so much.
“As the seed of his family tree started to grow and make sense in his mind…the seasons were changing inside of him.”
Brás finds himself confronted by aging and the passing of time as a young child as he eavesdrops on his family’s stories. His realization that all adults were once kids and that one day he too will become an adult is a loss of innocence. The phrase “the seasons were changing inside of him” suggests both time moving on while also positing that the book’s chapters might also be viewed as specific “seasons” of his life—ones that come and go yet always change his perspective.
“Life is too dark without anyone to share it with. Bianca Golveia dos Santos and Bernardo dos Santos got married on a Saturday night, holding a big ceremony…after five years of dating.”
This quote is an excerpt from one of the obituaries Brás writes after the plane explosion. Although it is about one of the victims of the crash, the reader sees Moon and Bá referencing darkness. Love provided the light needed to make the victim’s life meaningful, and Brás (born out of a moment of light and love) chooses to highlight a bright and happy part of their life.
“People who like the book naturally assume they’d like the author as well. They think they know who he is. They think they’re his friends. Not that it bothers him. Not at all. All that attention and the notion that lots of people wish him well? Who wouldn’t like that? But just like work is fiction, Brás knows these friends aren’t real either. And even though it seems he’s making these new fictional friends wherever he goes…it’s one real friend who’s always in his thoughts.”
Once Brás successfully publishes his book to great acclaim, he’s amused that people mistake him for the same person as the narrator of his fictional book. This begs the question of whether the omniscient first-person narrator is, in fact, Brás telling and retelling the story of significant moments in his life. Regardless, no matter how much professional success Brás earns, he mourns the loss of his friend Jorge who knew him for who he truly was.
“There are a lot of things in this life that are difficult to understand, and even greater is the challenge of putting them into words. Friendship is certainly one of them…He traveled halfway across the country, only to be brutally murdered at the hands of this best friend, who took his own life next. Brás de Oliva Domingos only did what he felt was right. He was 38 and died because he believed in friendship.”
This quote is from the mini-obituary written about Brás after Jorge stabs him to death. No matter how long it has been since he’s seen his best friend, many of Brás’s most cherished moments have included Jorge. Though he struggles to explain why he needs to find Jorge to Ana, Brás truly lives in the moment in order to try and save his friend or die trying.
“‘Why do you travel so much, asked the little man. When I am away from home, I remember how much I miss my family. And once I finally return…they always remember how much they love me.’ This is the last letter my father sent me. He was a writer.”
Miguel reads the final letter his father Brás sent to him during his class’s career day, when Brás was supposed to come in and speak. Now that Brás is a father, he leaves behind a legacy with the written word yet again, particularly in the letters, texts, and emails he sends to Miguel and Ana. This quote illustrates how the stakes have grown higher now for Brás since he has a family that relies on him.
“You are on this boat floating on an endless ocean. These baskets contain wishes, desires…forces that drive your will to move forward. However, if you stay here just staring at them…sooner or later…they’re all going to sink. In order to go after your dreams—you must live your life. Wake up, before it’s too late.”
Iemanjá says this to Brás in the midst of his surreal dream experience in Chapter 9. She urges him to find the “forces that drive [his] will to move forward,” otherwise he may find that certain opportunities have vanished. Just like the offerings made to Iemanjá by the people of Salvador, life provides wishes, desires, and bounty for Brás to take, but he must live in the present in order live his life to its fullest.
“Well, it was just a dream. It was not real. This is your life. And it’s simple as you want it to be. But if you just stay there staring at it, it’s all going to sink. I can’t take care of everything by myself while you stay in bed.”
“[Jorge:] What can I tell you? Life is good, dude. [Brás:] I don’t understand. Why can’t I just wake up? [Jorge:] What makes you think you’re dreaming?”
Jorge appears in Brás’s dream in a way that bookends their conversations on their trip to Salvador together in Chapter 2. Just as he does before, he inverts Brás’s existential question, blurring the line between real and dream life. Brás’s dreams mirror his waking life, and vice versa, making the dream sequence another extension of his lived experience.
“Life is like a book, son. And every book has an end. No matter how much you like that book…you will get to the last page…and it will end. No book is complete without its end. And once you get there…only when you read the last words…will you see how good the book is. It feels real.”
Both Brás and Benedito are writers, and so it makes sense that Brás would explain life to Miguel using the simile of a book. He says that “only when you read the last words…will you see how good the book is” because some of the most beautiful parts of life are only apparent once you get older. Just as the ending of a book is inevitable, so too is death as just another part of life.
“[Father:] ‘…Do you want to keep dreaming?’ [Brás:] ‘Do I have a choice?’ [Father:] ‘You always have a choice.’”
Benedito says this to Brás towards the end of the dream sequence. Similar to his exchange with Jorge, Benedito inverts Brás’s question in order to answer it. Dreaming is merely an extension of Brás’s waking life, and Benedito wants his son to see that there are still many more choices he can, and must, make to create meaning.
“My name is Brás de Oliva Domingos. This is the story of my life. Take a deep breath, open your eyes and close the book.”
Instead of a mini-obituary, Brás’s dream sequence breaks the fourth wall (meaning it speaks directly to the reader). Just as Brás’s loved ones beg him to live in the moment, he now instructs the reader to do the same: shut the book, look around, and making meaningful decisions by living in the moment whenever possible. This could be seen as the final legacy Brás wishes to leave his reader with before closing out his story.
“Brás realized that home is not a physical place at all, but a group of elements like the people you live with—a feeling, a state of mind.”
At the end of his life, Brás begins to see his most important choices and moments more clearly than he had in the past. One of the lessons he has learned is that it is less essential to build a physical home than it is for him to have lived in the moment with the people he loves. He values these intangible “elements” of home as he faces his imminent death after refusing further cancer treatment.
“Dear Son, You’re holding this letter now because this is the most important day of your life. You’re about to have your first child. That means the life you’ve built with such effort, that you’ve conquered, that you’ve earned, has finally reached the point where it no longer belongs to you. The bad is the new master of your life. He is the sole reason for your existence…and that’s the big secret. That’s the miracle.”
Brás receives his father’s final letter which was stuck inside a copy of Brás’s novel. Superimposed over the final panels of the book, the letter both gives Brás the closure he desires and tells him that he truly did have a place in his father’s heart. It is also ironic that he reads this at the end of his life, since Miguel is now starting his own family and Brás is about to die, moving through the life cycle once again. As Benedito notes, becoming a father and moving through the life cycle is what ultimately makes life meaningful.
“I’m writing this letter to congratulate you…and admit that you don’t need me anymore.”
Benedito writes this just before his death, and Brás reads it at the end of his life’s journey. Now Miguel will take on the role of a father with his own family, which is a part of what Benedito says is the most wonderful and magical part of living. Brás, a published novelist and new father when the letter was written, no longer needed his father, meaning he could die in peace. It may be interpreted that Brás, too, now feels at peace with Miguel moving into Aurora’s old house, since it is a sign that he no longer needs him.