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nealadolph 's review for:
Baltasar and Blimunda
by José Saramago
adventurous
challenging
funny
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
What does one say about a novel by Jose Saramago that hasn't been said before? Probably not much. He is perhaps one of the greatest voices of the 20th and early 21st century, a writer unlike any other, with a voice unique to himself and a humour, wit, ideal, and sense of drama that is nearly incomparable.
But I offer perhaps one, and one only - to Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Like GGM, Saramago finds a way to tell the history of a nation in a single book, add in some romance, tied together with slips of the imagination and tricks of the impossible, and gathers it in language that both demands all of our attention and seems to fall through the pages like sand rustling in a gentle stream.
And he does the miraculous, telling something about the influence of the church, the overwhelming power of the monarchy, the destruction of the natural world, and the complete disregard of the human element of labour, of monuments, of history - particularly when those humans are poor and they are incapable of telling their own story.
And he does the miraculous once more, by telling this through a chorus of humans, by channeling his energies into details that highlight the pomp and circumstance of 18th century Portugal, by adding in humour and philosophy that pull a long paragraph written in the way that a person thinks rather than how a page is written, written like it was actually a treatise on human nature rather than human folly, but then who can tell the difference between the two when there are convents to be build and palaces to imagine.
And he does the miraculous again, by making this into a romance that begins and ends in a manner that seems altogether quite unlikely, something quite unexpected. A surprising story all the way through, linked to the history of the nation and of its church and of its people who live in small towns and move to the bigger cities in the pursuit of an opportunity to survive under the unpredictable whims of both church and state.
Read this when you can.
But I offer perhaps one, and one only - to Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Like GGM, Saramago finds a way to tell the history of a nation in a single book, add in some romance, tied together with slips of the imagination and tricks of the impossible, and gathers it in language that both demands all of our attention and seems to fall through the pages like sand rustling in a gentle stream.
And he does the miraculous, telling something about the influence of the church, the overwhelming power of the monarchy, the destruction of the natural world, and the complete disregard of the human element of labour, of monuments, of history - particularly when those humans are poor and they are incapable of telling their own story.
And he does the miraculous once more, by telling this through a chorus of humans, by channeling his energies into details that highlight the pomp and circumstance of 18th century Portugal, by adding in humour and philosophy that pull a long paragraph written in the way that a person thinks rather than how a page is written, written like it was actually a treatise on human nature rather than human folly, but then who can tell the difference between the two when there are convents to be build and palaces to imagine.
And he does the miraculous again, by making this into a romance that begins and ends in a manner that seems altogether quite unlikely, something quite unexpected. A surprising story all the way through, linked to the history of the nation and of its church and of its people who live in small towns and move to the bigger cities in the pursuit of an opportunity to survive under the unpredictable whims of both church and state.
Read this when you can.