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diogobulhosa's review against another edition
4.0
Gostei bastante. Sinto que o final acaba por deixar um bocado a desejar e poderia ser bastante mais cativante. Ainda assim um livro a raspar a perfeição e altamente viciante do início ao fim
peebee's review against another edition
4.0
Godawful translation, unless it was some sort of literary device... but still a pretty sick story.
molly_kate's review against another edition
challenging
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
3.75
Content Warnings
Graphic: Excrement, Sexual assault, Rape, Death, and Pandemic/Epidemic
watermelleon's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
it is so hard to write a review for this one!!
the good bits:
the good bits:
- the writing style is completely unique. I have read nothing like this ever, and it has been a fully original experience.
- The characters were incredibly complex, despite not knowing their names or what they look like past a quirky defining feature used to establish who is in the room or speaking.
- In a book where almost no-one can see, this book has some of the most vivid and detailed descriptions I have ever read. I could map out a floor plan of a whole building, which absolutely added to the impact of what was happening within the novel.
- so many well thought out moments and quotes, the messaging behind this book was incredible. it feels like a very good time to be reading a book like this, as many instances early on felt very reminiscent of the current situation in Palestine (and other political situations), something saramago has spoken out about for many years.
- I really enjoyed reading this on holiday in portugal! although purposefully not set in a specific country or town, I felt very connected to the work this way - I also caught a glimpse at the saramago foundation community space in obidos :)
the challenges;
- the book is incredibly dark, and a difficult read. by far this book has some of the most uncomfortable scenes I have ever come across, with a lot of potentially triggering detail. However, it doesn't feel gratuitous, or there for the sake of it being there. It has a purpose, and I think any other author (my mind gravitates to stephen king) would have done a terrible job. What was unique for me was that saramago managed to centre these events through the eyes of the victims and not the perpetrators, something I have very rarely (if ever) seen in any other book.
- The writing style I imagine is not for everyone. It does take some getting used to, and I think this plus the traumatic contents do slow down the reading experience. I would not change this though!
- I wish I could have read this in portuguese. I think the translator did an excellent job, however it does (as it always will) feel like it is likely that the original flowery prose is lost to me!
- having known people on a personal basis that have lost their vision overnight, it was a concern to me going in how this concept would come across, and whether it would be too abelist for my tastes. I felt personally that this was avoided, however cannot speak on this opinion from the perspective of a visually impaired person. What made this book feel okay to myself personally was that: it was made very clear that it was a "medically impossible" blindness and not a known medical condition, as well as the one character that could see showing her own type of blindness, assuming that her blind friends needed her help when they were sufficient. what is referred to as "blindness" in this novel is perhaps more a state of mind, over level of vision.
I went into this book wondering if it would be a bit too close to the bone to those who in some way have lost their vision, but have left wondering perhaps the opposite. with something this descriptive and visual I feel like it could be an absolutely incredible audiobook journey!
I would recommend this book on everyone's bucket list, providing the topics covered aren't too difficult for you!
Content Warnings
Graphic: Injury/Injury detail, Police brutality, Pandemic/Epidemic, Body shaming, Violence, Suicidal thoughts, Sexual harassment, Murder, Misogyny, Excrement, Confinement, Sexual violence, Rape, Physical abuse, Sexual assault, Abandonment, Sexual content, Sexism, Gore, Forced institutionalization, Fire/Fire injury, Medical trauma, Infidelity, Genocide, Toxic relationship, Torture, Mass/school shootings, and Blood
Minor: Car accident
letiziadinca's review against another edition
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.75
autumndream's review against another edition
4.0
Memorable quote:
"...when we are in great distress and plagued by pain and anguish that is when the animal side of our nature becomes most apparent." -José Saramago
"...when we are in great distress and plagued by pain and anguish that is when the animal side of our nature becomes most apparent." -José Saramago
valsie311's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
tnorthcu's review against another edition
5.0
Where to start with this book. The story is really interesting, the world turns blind and chaos follows. One woman can still see and we mostly view the world through her eyes. How horrible to have to see the things that happen. I was not able to put this book down once I started. Though, that may have had something to do with the fact that there were NO paragraph breaks at all. It was translated from Portuguese so I don't know if that had something to do with that. Other than the lack of breathing room, the book was fascinating, well written, and disturbing. I became very attached to the characters and didn't want the book to end. The ending was a little too easy for such a complicated story, but apparently there is a sequel title "Seeing," so that'll be next on my list.
trin's review against another edition
1.0
I had a hard time with this book. On the one hand, I appreciated aspects of the story Saramago was trying to tell—a story about horrific circumstances reducing people to their most basic qualities, both good and bad. On the other hand, I hated his prose style and some of his choices made me froth.
All of the dialogue in this book is strung together in endlessly long paragraphs with no quotes and few attributions. I do not see the point of this at all. Look, I’ve ranted already about [a:Cormac McCarthy|4178|Cormac McCarthy|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1200429153p2/4178.jpg] and his apostrophe hate; this is the same sort of argument, which I am frankly weary of reiterating. But basically, I don’t see how this returns language to a purer form, or simplifies it; I think it just makes it hard to read. Why is it so postmodern and “literary” to hate on punctuation? Punctuation is your friend.
Stylistically, therefore, I was annoyed, although Saramago does sometimes make it work: this method of writing certainly reproduces the effect of cacophony well. But even setting that aside, I had a hard time believing in the universe Saramago created. A large part of this, I think, had to do with his portrayal of women.
The novel’s main character is, arguably, a woman—the doctor’s wife, the only person who doesn’t go blind. (Yeah, none of the characters have names, either, just—at times lengthy—titles, like “the girl with the dark glasses.” This bugged me, too.) While I could never quite put myself in her shoes—Saramago portrays most of her reactions from what felt to me like a great remove—I was with her, and even admired her strength and resolve, for about the first third of the book. This feeling wavered a bit when the doctor’s wife decides she’s pretty much okay with her husband sleeping with the girl with the dark glasses, considering the circumstances (a move that felt weirdly out of place for both of them, too), but I shrugged that off as well.
Then I got to the gang rape scene.
All right, so, the first few hundred people struck blind are all quarantined inside an old mental hospital, and a group of men with a gun seize control of the food and demand payment if the others want to eat. Valuables first, then women. The doctor’s wife is among the first group led in to be brutally raped. She is, remember, the only person in the entire place who can still see, and none of her captives know this. She has the element of surprise way, way on her side. And then, the man with the gun, the leader, leaves the gun where she can reach it. She can feel the gun in her hand—the gun with which she could kill him and quite possibly stop dozens of women, including herself, from being brutalized. Saramago has her feel the gun in her hand and think about this—and then he has her decide not to take it.
I put the book down at this point and couldn’t bring myself to pick it up for several months.
I don’t think I can really explain why this bothers me so much. I guess on some level I just couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t even try, not just for herself, but for everyone else. Or maybe I didn’t like that it felt like Saramago made the decision for her, putting a possible solution into her hand and then having her reject it, like this move was somehow noble. Or… yeah, I can’t explain it. But it put me off the rest of the book.
At the end, everyone’s sight comes back, at the crucial moment, for no reason at all. Okay, I know: it went away for no reason at all, too, but still returning it—“it’s a miracle!”-style—felt like such a cheat. What was the point, really, of everyone going through all this? By the end, the young girl with the dark glasses has given up occasional prostitution and is shacking up with the old man with the eye patch. (Wow, how nice for him—I mean them.) And I, well, I didn’t believe in any of these characters anymore. It all felt false to me. The brutality, yeah, that I got. But any sort of transcendence…I just don’t see it.
All of the dialogue in this book is strung together in endlessly long paragraphs with no quotes and few attributions. I do not see the point of this at all. Look, I’ve ranted already about [a:Cormac McCarthy|4178|Cormac McCarthy|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1200429153p2/4178.jpg] and his apostrophe hate; this is the same sort of argument, which I am frankly weary of reiterating. But basically, I don’t see how this returns language to a purer form, or simplifies it; I think it just makes it hard to read. Why is it so postmodern and “literary” to hate on punctuation? Punctuation is your friend.
Stylistically, therefore, I was annoyed, although Saramago does sometimes make it work: this method of writing certainly reproduces the effect of cacophony well. But even setting that aside, I had a hard time believing in the universe Saramago created. A large part of this, I think, had to do with his portrayal of women.
The novel’s main character is, arguably, a woman—the doctor’s wife, the only person who doesn’t go blind. (Yeah, none of the characters have names, either, just—at times lengthy—titles, like “the girl with the dark glasses.” This bugged me, too.) While I could never quite put myself in her shoes—Saramago portrays most of her reactions from what felt to me like a great remove—I was with her, and even admired her strength and resolve, for about the first third of the book. This feeling wavered a bit when the doctor’s wife decides she’s pretty much okay with her husband sleeping with the girl with the dark glasses, considering the circumstances (a move that felt weirdly out of place for both of them, too), but I shrugged that off as well.
Then I got to the gang rape scene.
All right, so, the first few hundred people struck blind are all quarantined inside an old mental hospital, and a group of men with a gun seize control of the food and demand payment if the others want to eat. Valuables first, then women. The doctor’s wife is among the first group led in to be brutally raped. She is, remember, the only person in the entire place who can still see, and none of her captives know this. She has the element of surprise way, way on her side. And then, the man with the gun, the leader, leaves the gun where she can reach it. She can feel the gun in her hand—the gun with which she could kill him and quite possibly stop dozens of women, including herself, from being brutalized. Saramago has her feel the gun in her hand and think about this—and then he has her decide not to take it.
I put the book down at this point and couldn’t bring myself to pick it up for several months.
I don’t think I can really explain why this bothers me so much. I guess on some level I just couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t even try, not just for herself, but for everyone else. Or maybe I didn’t like that it felt like Saramago made the decision for her, putting a possible solution into her hand and then having her reject it, like this move was somehow noble. Or… yeah, I can’t explain it. But it put me off the rest of the book.
At the end, everyone’s sight comes back, at the crucial moment, for no reason at all. Okay, I know: it went away for no reason at all, too, but still returning it—“it’s a miracle!”-style—felt like such a cheat. What was the point, really, of everyone going through all this? By the end, the young girl with the dark glasses has given up occasional prostitution and is shacking up with the old man with the eye patch. (Wow, how nice for him—I mean them.) And I, well, I didn’t believe in any of these characters anymore. It all felt false to me. The brutality, yeah, that I got. But any sort of transcendence…I just don’t see it.