...
Show More
It’s late 1935. Ricardo Reis, forty-eight years old, poet and physician, returns to Lisbon after a sixteen year voluntary exile in Brazil. Reis, a monarchist, fled Portugal in 1919 due to anti-clerical and anti-monarchist politics and the threat of political violence. Now he’s fleeing Brazil due the threat of Communist violence. As a friend says to him, ”’Reis, you seem destined to flee revolutions, in nineteen nineteen you went to Brazil because of a revolution that failed, now you are fleeing Brazil because of another that has probably failed as well.’”
Reis lives in a hotel upon his return to Lisbon and starts a loveless affair with Lydia Martin, a chamber maid. Reis, a desultory flaneur, wanders through Lisbon in the rain, again and again, almost every day, rarely with a destination in mind. He’s a keen observer of Lisbon and its growing inequalities. ”Ricardo Reis pulls his raincoat snugly around his body, shivering, he goes back by other avenues, now descending the Rua do Século, unable to say what made him decide on this route, this street so deserted and melancholy. A few grand residences remain alongside the squat, narrow houses built for the poorer classes, at least the nobility in former days were not at all discriminating, they lived side by side with the common folk. God help us, the way things are going we will see the return of exclusive neighborhoods, nothing but private residences for the barons of industry and commerce, who very soon will swallow up whatever is left of the aristocracy, residences with private garages, gardens in proportion to the size of the property, dogs that bark back ferociously. Even among the dogs one notices the difference. In the distant past they attacked both rich and poor.” Reis buys newspapers, reads the news, but doesn’t seem overly concerned by the news internationally and in Portugal. Reis finds an apartment, finds a temporary job filling in for an ill physician, and learns that Lydia is pregnant. He’s not overly concerned by Lydia’s pregnancy either. Reis often meets with Fernando Pessoa, a friend and fellow poet, who questions him about his muddled politics and his oddly conceived monarchism, his socially inappropriate affair with Lydia, and his plans.
Reis reads of the advance of fascism in Germany, in Italy, and in Spain. He reads of Portugal’s support for the Nationalist forces in the Spanish Civil War. He learns of Italy’s advances in Ethiopia and of Blum forming a Popular Front and winning the elections in France. He comments on the growth of the corporate Portuguese state and its nationalistic boosterism. ”And here in Portugal we are not doing that badly when it comes to confusing the divine with the human, it looks almost as if we are turning back to the gods of antiquity. . . according to a solemn declaration made by the Archbishop of Mittilene, Portugal is Christ and Christ is Portugal.” Reis disdains Lydia for her ignorance and for her parroting her communist brother’s views. But Reis, in keeping with his phlegmatic persona, seems unsympathetic and uninterested in understanding Lydia and her brother’s politics.
But this simplistic plot summary of José Saramago’s The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis barely conveys its multi-layered complexity. The external and most obvious layer is that of Reis himself, his unnerving passivity, and his friendship with Fernando Pessoa. A second layer is the political: this is a thoroughly an historical novel that chronicles the rise and spread of fascism in Europe, told from a contemporaneous viewpoint. The historical touchpoints in The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis are many: the 1936 naval revolt that Lydia’s brother participated in, Fernando Pessoa’s death in late 1935, the Spanish Civil War, Salazar’s support for the Spanish Nationalists in the Spanish Civil War and his welcoming of fascism, and many other historical events. A third layer is the magical realism that imbues The Year of Death of Ricardo Reis, omnipresent but so real as to be almost invisible. The Fernando Pessoa of the novel is already dead, presents himself in an almost bardo-like state to Ricardo Reis, but seems so animated as to be another living character. The fourth layer is Saramago’s homage to Fernando Pessoa himself. “Ricardo Reis”, in fact, was one of Pessoa’s favorite heteronyms, names used by Pessoa in his writings to express different personas. Pessoa’s “Ricardo Reis”, in fact, was a monarchist and a paganist.
The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis is very much a modern novel, and José
Saramago demands the attention of his readers with his stylistic choices: no quotation marks in conversations, sometimes no clear signaling of who’s saying what, and shifting points of view. It’s a wonderful novel with a wonderful and wonderfully subtle ending: ”As they left the apartment, Fernando Pessoa told him, You forgot your hat. You know better than I do that hats aren’t worn where we’re going.”. No wonder Saramago won the Nobel Prize.
A concluding note. If any of you decide to go down the rabbit hole of Fernando Pessoa, Pessoa’s Ricardo Reis, and José Saramago’s admiration for Pessoa, I highly recommend selectively reading Saramago’s The Notebook, The Selected Prose of Fernando Pessoa, and Richard Zenith’s Pessoa: A Biography.
Reis lives in a hotel upon his return to Lisbon and starts a loveless affair with Lydia Martin, a chamber maid. Reis, a desultory flaneur, wanders through Lisbon in the rain, again and again, almost every day, rarely with a destination in mind. He’s a keen observer of Lisbon and its growing inequalities. ”Ricardo Reis pulls his raincoat snugly around his body, shivering, he goes back by other avenues, now descending the Rua do Século, unable to say what made him decide on this route, this street so deserted and melancholy. A few grand residences remain alongside the squat, narrow houses built for the poorer classes, at least the nobility in former days were not at all discriminating, they lived side by side with the common folk. God help us, the way things are going we will see the return of exclusive neighborhoods, nothing but private residences for the barons of industry and commerce, who very soon will swallow up whatever is left of the aristocracy, residences with private garages, gardens in proportion to the size of the property, dogs that bark back ferociously. Even among the dogs one notices the difference. In the distant past they attacked both rich and poor.” Reis buys newspapers, reads the news, but doesn’t seem overly concerned by the news internationally and in Portugal. Reis finds an apartment, finds a temporary job filling in for an ill physician, and learns that Lydia is pregnant. He’s not overly concerned by Lydia’s pregnancy either. Reis often meets with Fernando Pessoa, a friend and fellow poet, who questions him about his muddled politics and his oddly conceived monarchism, his socially inappropriate affair with Lydia, and his plans.
Reis reads of the advance of fascism in Germany, in Italy, and in Spain. He reads of Portugal’s support for the Nationalist forces in the Spanish Civil War. He learns of Italy’s advances in Ethiopia and of Blum forming a Popular Front and winning the elections in France. He comments on the growth of the corporate Portuguese state and its nationalistic boosterism. ”And here in Portugal we are not doing that badly when it comes to confusing the divine with the human, it looks almost as if we are turning back to the gods of antiquity. . . according to a solemn declaration made by the Archbishop of Mittilene, Portugal is Christ and Christ is Portugal.” Reis disdains Lydia for her ignorance and for her parroting her communist brother’s views. But Reis, in keeping with his phlegmatic persona, seems unsympathetic and uninterested in understanding Lydia and her brother’s politics.
But this simplistic plot summary of José Saramago’s The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis barely conveys its multi-layered complexity. The external and most obvious layer is that of Reis himself, his unnerving passivity, and his friendship with Fernando Pessoa. A second layer is the political: this is a thoroughly an historical novel that chronicles the rise and spread of fascism in Europe, told from a contemporaneous viewpoint. The historical touchpoints in The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis are many: the 1936 naval revolt that Lydia’s brother participated in, Fernando Pessoa’s death in late 1935, the Spanish Civil War, Salazar’s support for the Spanish Nationalists in the Spanish Civil War and his welcoming of fascism, and many other historical events. A third layer is the magical realism that imbues The Year of Death of Ricardo Reis, omnipresent but so real as to be almost invisible. The Fernando Pessoa of the novel is already dead, presents himself in an almost bardo-like state to Ricardo Reis, but seems so animated as to be another living character. The fourth layer is Saramago’s homage to Fernando Pessoa himself. “Ricardo Reis”, in fact, was one of Pessoa’s favorite heteronyms, names used by Pessoa in his writings to express different personas. Pessoa’s “Ricardo Reis”, in fact, was a monarchist and a paganist.
The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis is very much a modern novel, and José
Saramago demands the attention of his readers with his stylistic choices: no quotation marks in conversations, sometimes no clear signaling of who’s saying what, and shifting points of view. It’s a wonderful novel with a wonderful and wonderfully subtle ending: ”As they left the apartment, Fernando Pessoa told him, You forgot your hat. You know better than I do that hats aren’t worn where we’re going.”. No wonder Saramago won the Nobel Prize.
A concluding note. If any of you decide to go down the rabbit hole of Fernando Pessoa, Pessoa’s Ricardo Reis, and José Saramago’s admiration for Pessoa, I highly recommend selectively reading Saramago’s The Notebook, The Selected Prose of Fernando Pessoa, and Richard Zenith’s Pessoa: A Biography.