واقعا فوق العاده بود،ناراحتم چرا زودتر اين كتاب رو نخونده بودم

Un auténtico cinco estrellas, y créanme que hasta a mí me parece una frivolidad empezar de esta guisa tras leer la genial brutalidad que acabo de terminar (por fin me reconcilio literariamente con Saramago, un tipo que me caía, que me cae, muy bien).

n   “Dejadlos; son ciegos guías de ciegos; y si el ciego guiare al ciego, ambos caerán en el hoyo” Mateo 15:14 (representado en la portada de mi edición por el cuadro «La parábola de los ciegos», del pintor flamenco Pieter Brueghel el Viejo) n

En su plano más superficial, el planteamiento y desarrollo bien podría ser el de una novela de Stephen King. Imagino que todo el mundo está al tanto: alguien al volante de su coche se encuentra parado ante un semáforo, de repente se queda ciego, de una ceguera blanca. Es el inicio de una “epidemia” que se irá extendiendo irremediable y descontroladamente.

n   “… cuando el cuerpo se nos desmanda de dolor y de angustias es cuando se ve el animal que somos” n

El estilo, el habitual del autor, es lo que marca la diferencia: un narrador de formas burocráticas, un funcionario juguetón y con retranca que valora “el uso de un vocabulario correcto y educado… la descripción de cualquier hecho gana con el rigor y la propiedad de los términos usados”. A veces se hace el simple con acotaciones que parecen remarcar innecesariamente, con un discurso plagado de refranes y frases hechas, mientras que en otras demuestra gran sutiliza y profundidad. Un narrador que se involucra con lo narrado y los personajes sin nombre que lo protagonizan, disculpando, comprendiendo y justificando ciertos hechos, aunque su diligencia no le permita cambiar el tono en ningún momento por dramático que este sea.

La novela muestra la fragilidad de las sociedades humanas. La ceguera nos iguala en las circunstancias, el dinero y la riqueza dejan de marcar diferencias, la familia, las relaciones, el trabajo ya no son factores de estratificación, solo queda la persona desnuda (”Dentro de nosotros hay algo que no tiene nombre, esa cosa es lo que somos”), lo que determinará nuevas formas de interdependencia y de relaciones de poder en una sociedad sin gobierno ni justicia donde imperará la ley del más fuerte y del que menos escrúpulos tenga que se aprovechará de la facilidad con la que, por muy mal que ande la cosa, “es posible hallar una ración suficiente de bien para que podamos soportar esos males con paciencia”.

n   “… los sentimientos con que hemos vivido y que nos hicieron vivir como éramos, nacieron de los ojos que teníamos, sin ojos serán diferentes los sentimientos, no sabemos cómo, no sabemos cuáles… lo que está naciendo es el auténtico sentir de los ciegos, y sólo estamos en el inicio, por ahora aún vivimos de la memoria de lo que sentíamos…”n

A partir de aquí se puede buscar una analogía con el capitalismo salvaje al que parecen tender nuestras sociedades y la ceguera con la que asistimos a tal evolución, la pasividad con la que nos sometemos a situaciones cada vez más precarias e injustas y a lo que ello nos puede abocar mientras esperamos a que la solución venga del cielo (potentísima esa imagen de las pinturas y tallas de una iglesia con los ojos cegados por pintura o trapos).

n  "La ceguera también es esto, vivir en un mundo donde se ha acabado la esperanza"n

"Αν δεν είμαστε ικανοί να ζησουμε εντελώς σαν άνθρωποι,τουλάχιστον ας κάνουμε ό,τι μπορούμε για να μη ζούμε εντελώς σαν ζώα"

4,5*

Η γραφή του Σαραμάγκου είναι μοναδική κι είτε τη λατρεύεις,είτε τη μισείς.Εγώ τη λάτρεψα στο πρώτο βιβλίο του που διάβασα,κι εδώ επιβεβαίωσα την αγάπη που ανέπτυξα γι'αυτόν το συγγραφέα.

Στο "Περί Τυφλότητος" περιγράφει τις καταστάσεις με μια αποστασιοποίηση που ταιριάζει πάρα πολύ στο "το ένστικτο της επιβίωσης τα νικά όλα" κλίμα του βιβλίου.Σοκαριστικές καταστάσεις και εικόνες,που όμως μας μεταφέρονται με ένα λίγο "μπλαζέ" ύφος,σαν να μην είναι τόσο σοκαριστικά πια,σα να μη μπορεί τίποτα να σοκάρει μετά από όσα έζησαν αυτοί οι άνθρωποι.Αυτό σπάει ορισμένες φορές,όταν λυγίζει η γυναίκα του γιατρού-λογικό,αφού ουσιαστικά το δικό της ταξίδι ακολουθούμε.

Η υπόθεση πολύ πρωτότυπη και,παρά το απίθανο(;) του πράγματος,αναδεικνύει τα βασικά χαρακτηριστικά των ανθρώπων.Ο φόβος είναι το βασικό συναίσθημα του βιβλίου,τον αισθάνονται όλοι,ο καθένας για διαφορετικό λόγο.Πολύ συγκινητική η σκηνή όπου μια παρέα τυφλών περιγράφει ποιό ήταν το τελευταίο πράγμα που είδε ο καθένας τους πριν τυφλωθεί-ειδικά η περιγραφή του "πίνακα".

Ένα βιβλίο που αξίζει να διαβαστεί (και να προβληματίσει)!!

چیزی که موقع خوندن داستان برام خیلی جالب بود، این بود که چطور نویسنده از تکنیک در خدمت داستان استفاده کرده.
دنیای کورها، امپراتوری اصوات درهم و برهمه. حداقل تا زمانی که فرد نابینا قدرت شنوایی بیشتری کسب کنه و بتونه اصوات رو با قدرت زیاد تمیز بده.
نویسنده هم برای نشون دادن این اصوات در هم و بر هم، اومده دیالوگ ها رو بدون گیومه و خط تیره، بدون سر سطر آوردن هر دیالوگ و مجزا کردنش، در هم و بر هم و پشت سر هم و بدون هیچ تمیزی آورده. به طوری که خواننده با طوفانی سر در گم کننده از گفتگوهای آشفته مواجه می شه و نمی دونه کی به کیه. همون حالی که شخصیت های کور داستان تجربه می کنن.
به همین ترتیب، اسم ها هم از داستان حذف شدن. برای خواننده، اسم همون کارکردی رو داره که خطوط چهره برای شخصیت های داستان داره: هر دو مایۀ تمیز یک فرد از فرد دیگه هستن. اما در دنیایی که شخصیت ها نمی تونن خطوط چهرۀ آدم ها رو ببینن، تمیزی وجود نداره. افراد با هم قاطی هستن و اگر هم از هم تمیز داده می شن، نه توسط اسم ها، بلکه توسط "صفات" اون هاست. صفاتی که با بینایی یا کوری از بین نمی ره. به خاطر همینه ��ه دختری که سگ داره، همیشه با صفتش شناخته میشه، نه با اسمش. هیچ کس اسمی نداره. همه فقط با خصوصیت های واقعی شون شناخته می شن. با اعمالشون.

n  n
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My sister and I have started trading books back and forth during quarantine and this is the one she wanted me to read first before giving it to her. This is one of the instances where I read the book after seeing the movie. It's a grim dystopia/post-apocalyptic book where a "blindness" plague infects an unnamed society in an unnamed city. Rather than plunging into darkness, the victims find themselves inhabiting a strange, misty whiteness-- and it's highly infectious.



The main characters are never named except for their characteristics. So we have "the first blind man," who stops traffic when he gets out of his car panicking because he is blind. We have the thief who takes him home and offers to wait for him-- and then steals his car. Then we have the blind man's wife, the ophthalmologist, a woman with dark glasses who moonlights as a prostitute, a boy with a squint, a man with an eye patch, and the doctor's wife who, miraculously, remains immune.



One of the chief complaints of this book is the punctuation style and it does make things book very hard to read. The author, for whatever reason, made the choice to not include quotation marks or normal sentences, so dialogue is marked by writing paragraphs that read like this, And then the next branch of dialogue is donated by a capital A, Even when someone else is talking, you ask? Yes, even when someone else is talking, But that sounds confusing you say, Yes, it is, and it results in paragraphs that last for multiple pages, Oh my God, you say, That sounds terrible, It is.



The story itself is equally unpalatable. The blind are shepherded into an empty mental asylum which quickly disintegrates into chaos. The conditions quickly become unsanitary. The military guards shoot up the inhabitants out of blind (if you pardon the unintended pun) fear, and then they stand by and do nothing when an opportunistic gang forms demanding first money and loot as payment and then women and sex in exchange for the food that they have immorally co-opted. Even when freed from the asylum, those who escape find themselves in a society at its very last dregs, where all humanity is lost.



I liked the book okay and thought it told a compelling albeit depressing story, but I probably wouldn't read it again. So many descriptions of vomiting and shit and human waste, and humans performing inhuman acts at the cost of their own survival. It didn't occur to me while reading this book that a dystopian epidemic might not be the best choice of reading material during COVID, but here it is and here I am. It's not a book I'd recommend, but it's a book you won't forget.



3.5 stars

Blindness is a great novel by Portuguese writer José Saramago that deals with human's individual and collective reactions when in the face of adversarial forces. With gorgeous prose, this thought-provoking book shows us how our world, ever so concerned and consumed by appearances, would deal with the loss of our most relied upon sense: vision. When it's every man by himself, when every man is free to do whatever he wants without the impending fear of recognition and judgement, we start to feel - I was going to say see - what the man's true nature is and the crumbling down of a civilization diseased with selfishness, intolerance and ambition, to name just few symptoms.

Saramago tells us the story of a mysterious mass plague of blindness that affects nearly everyone living in an unnamed place in a never specified time and the implications this epidemic has on people's lives. It all starts inexplicably when a man in his car suddenly starts seeing - or rather stops seeing anything but - a clear white brightness. He's blind. Depending upon a stranger's kindness to be able to go home in safety, we witness what appears to be the first sign of corruption and the first crack in society's impending breakdown when the infamous volunteer steals the blind man's car. Unfortunately for him, the white pest follows him and turns him into one of its victims as well.

Spreading fast, this collective blindness is now frightening the authorities and must be dealt with: a large group of blind people and possibly infected ones - those who had any contact with the first group - have now been put in quarantine until second order. Living conditions start to degrade as the isolated population grows bigger, there is no organization, basic medicine is a luxury not allowed in and hygiene is nowhere to be found. To complicate things further, an armed clique acquires control and power, forcing the subjugated to pay for food in any way they can. The scenes that follow are extremely unpleasant to read, but at the same time they're so realistic that you can't be mad at Saramago for writing such severe events packed with violence that include rapes and murders.

Contrasting with this dystopian desolation, there is some solidarity and compassion in the form of one character: the doctor's wife. The only one in the asylum who miraculously is still able to see, she takes care of her husband and of those who became her new family: the girl with the dark glasses, the boy with the squint, the old man with the black eye patch, the first blind man and the first blind man's wife - the characters' names are never mentioned, which is an interesting choice the author made. When we think of someone, when we hear their name, we always conjure an image in our head; a picture is formed before our eyes. Here we are with a bunch of people who no longer can rely on their sight so, in not giving them names, Saramago also puts us in the dark, forcing us to rely instead on personal characteristics and descriptions given to conjure these characters ourselves.

After an uprising, folks find out the asylum has been abandoned by the army who was until then responsible for it and they're able to leave. Realizing that what they went through in quarantine was only a detail in the huge landscape, now we follow our protagonists as they wander through the city in search of better conditions: water, food, clothes, a way to find their homes and their relatives.

Talking about Saramago's writing style, I should say that it may be a bit confusing at first due to the lack of punctuation; there are many long sentences and no quotation marks around dialogues. But in no time you'll get used to his simplistic style - not in any way devoid of meaning or deepness -, and you'll realize that it actually adds to this reading experience as you'll be going faster through the words; with fewer pauses and breaks, you'll find yourself feeling suffocated and almost breathless, which will only add to the book's atmosphere of urgency, anxiety and despair.

Film adaptation: there is a good film by Fernando Meirelles also called Blindness starring Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo and Gael García Bernal, released in 2008. While this adaptation isn't as graphic and visceral as Saramago's novel, it's still worth seeing. It is said that Saramago was in tears when the movie ended and said to director Meirelles: "Fernando, I am so happy to have seen this movie. I am as happy as I was the day I finished the book."

Rating: unfortunately, it seems the late José Saramago - the only Portuguese-language novelist to win the Nobel Prize in Literature - has yet to gain the world recognition he deserves. For his torturing novel, for his fearlessness in going deep and telling a brutal and violent story that makes us wonder, as Virginia Woolf greatly put it, "Why, one asked oneself, does one take all these pains for the human race to go on? Is it so very desirable? Are we attractive as a species?": 5 stars.

" لاأعتقد اننا عمينا بل اعتقد اننا عميان عميان يرون بشر عميان يستطيعون ان يروا لكنهم لايرون "

اخيرا انتهيت من الرواية . فى العادة اقول هذه الجملة لان الرواية سيئة لكن هنا الحالة مختلفة هى من الروايات السوداوية بالنسبة لى بدايتها كانت رواية رعب ليست بدايتها فقط بل بأكملها لان فكرة العمى بالنسبة لى مرعبة .
ان تصاب فجأة بالعمى وانت تقف فى اشارة المرور ثم تتفاجأ بأنك أصبحت أعمى وهذا العمى من نوع مختلف فى العادة يقول الاعمى ان كل شىء اسود لا هنا الحال مختلف كل شىء ابيض ثم تبدأ هذه الحالة فى الأنتشار والجميع يخاف ويريدون ان يبتعدوا عن هذا الشخص فى العادة عندما تجد شخص اعمى فربما ستمد يد المساعدة لكن هنا لا ستبتعد عنه خوفا ان تصبح مثله بل ستطرد هذا الشخص بعيدا عنك سترغب فى قتله للتخلص منه ربما نتخلص من هذا الوباء .


"“عندما يموت الوحش يموت السم معه” "

عندما يوجد شخص اعمى تمد له يد المساعدةعادة يجد من يساعدة على التأقلم والتعامل لكن عندما يصبح كل من حولك اعمى ويصبح مجتمع بأكملة أعمى لايوجد من يفعل شىء اّّذا خرجت من منزلك لن تستطيع ان تعود لايوجد ماء لايوجد كهرباء بل لايوجد انسانية هل العمى هو السبب فيما يحدث ام هذا هو حقيقة الانسان

إن كنا غير قادرين على العيش ككائنات بشرية، فدعونا على الأقل نفعل كل ما بوسعنا كي لا نعيش كالحيوانات تمام"

"“عندما نكون في محنة كبيرة وقد أصبنا بوباء الألم والكرب عندئذٍ يصبح الجانب الحيواني في طبيعتنا أكثر وضوح"

ان تكون المبصر الوحيد وترى كل مايحدث ليس فقط تشعر به او تتخيله بل تراه ولاتستطيع ان تفعل اى شىء

“لا يسعكم أن تعرفوا، ماذا يعني أن نكون مبصرين في عالم كلُّ من فيه عميان، أنا لست ملكة، بل أنا ببساطة تلك الإنسانة التي وُلِدت لترى هذا الرعب”


"“تمنت بصفاء لو أنها تعمي أيضا, تخترق القشرة المرئية للأشياء و تلج عمقها, إلي عمائها المدوخ غير القابل للشفاء”

العمى من الروايات التى تعمدت ان يكون لى قراءات اخرى بجانبها خوفا من تأثيرها فأنا اعرف جيدا تأثير هذه الروايات على حالتى النفسية فنصيحة لمن مثلى ان يحتاط من هذا الامر .

ملحوظة : الرواية مليئة بالحوارات ليس سرد فقط لكنك اذا نظرت لها لن تشعر ان هناك حديث واحد لن تعرف من يتحدث ومتى انتهت الجملة ومتى بدأت الاخرى ستجن فى البداية وستتهم الكاتب بالغباء والاستفزاز لكن ستعتاد بعد ذلك
لم اكن اعرف ان الرواية تحولت لفيلم لذا سابحث عن الفيلم واشاهده
التقييم ٤.٥

١٤ / ٥ / ٢٠١٧

Na cíclica relação com o outro, seja ele físico ou imaterial, o Homem vai sendo edificado, como peça de barro, nas mãos de um oleiro. Na busca da plena percepção desta partilha simbiótica, faz uso dos poderes concedidos, que lhe permitem experienciar puros devaneios. Designados órgãos dos sentidos, são eles conexões directas para o mundo das emoções, um contrapeso para a racionalidade requerida. Sem nenhuma seriação condenatória, o olhar é tido como o expoente máximo do quinteto (ou sexteto, depende da convicção extracorpórea de alguns), o espelho de uma alma com sede de descoberta, a porta que dá acesso à mente incauta. Daí que a sua falta seja um sacrilégio, mais para quem desse dom já experimentou.

Esta premissa comanda o enredo que Saramago idealizou. De súbito, sem que se fizesse prever, a visão desvanece-se aos olhos de todos, não em simultâneo mas faseadamente – até no caos, há alguma ordem. No entanto, esta cegueira caracteriza-se por particularidades que a tornam única. Além de se comportar com doença contagiosa, propagando-se pela proximidade de quem dela padeça; não encarcera o condenado a um mundo de penumbra – antes o escorraça para um brilhante cenário de luz leitosa, num dia perene – uma tela em branco a aguardar a pintura. Penetrando pela retina, ofusca as mentes hipnotizadas pelo instinto de sobrevivência, deixando sair a besta enjaulada em carcaça de gente, vetada à humilhação, à carência e à putrefacção.

Com a mestria que o caracteriza, Saramago aborda temas intemporais, como a segregação, a misoginia, o poder, a religião. Pejado de quebras da terceira folha, com emissões de juízos sobre a narrativa e sobre o mundo real, as ideias vão sendo encadeadas como um plano de fuga que, na falta de olhos, é transmitido por uma oralidade erudita, entrecruzando conceitos. Tudo congregado por imagens vivas (venham as náuseas e a contra-reacção) e enumerações longas que, ao invés de cansarem, dão mais fôlego para continuar a leitura, numa magia literária. Um feitiço que, quase nos cega do meio circundante, tal o magnetismo impresso. Repostas as forças, adensa-se a convicção de que “o pior cego é aquele que não quer ver!”.

"Os bons e os maus resultados dos nossos ditos e obras vão-se distribuindo, supõe-se que de uma forma bastante uniforme e equilibrada, por todos os dias do futuro, incluindo aqueles, infindaveis, em que já cá não estaremos para poder comprová-lo, para congratular-nos ou pedir perdão, aliás, há quem diga que isso é que é a imortalidade de que tanto se fala."

Typical Saramago! As if typical could ever be the right word for describing the work of such a unique author. No names, no quotation marks, scant paragraphing, a cataclysmic event forcing the protagonists into extreme and unfamiliar situations, and of course a sagacious dog sharing his thoughts. Certainly not for all audiences. There are some intensely disturbing multiple gang rape scenes. And without a single working toilet in the whole city there’s human feces covering almost every page.
On a personal note, the scene that introduces ‘the dog of tears’ is very realistic. Years ago sitting on the living room floor, feeling very sad because our crippled alpha dog, Zeno, was going to have to be put down, she was only seven, I started to cry. And just like in the story, she sat in front of me and licked the tears off my face. Not a single one ever reached the floor. And I cried for a long time.
Five stars! Where’s my next Saramago.

We don't know what year it is, we don't know what city it is, all we know is that one minute a person can see, the next minute they can't. It's a white blindness that obliterates all vision immediately and is assumed to be highly contagious.

An early band of affected citizens is sent to a mental ward, in the hopes of containing this sudden epidemic of blindness. Only one among them can see, a woman as unnamed as anyone else in the story, but we come to know her as “the doctor's wife.”

And, since some 14,000 reviews already exist on Goodreads for this disturbing classic, I'm not going to summarize the plot, I'm not going to look up literary criticism and spit it out. . .

I'm going to write about my new favorite character: the doctor's wife.

The doctor's wife is an educated woman in her late 40s; a childless woman who's married to an ophthalmologist and seems to be both his intellectual and emotional equal. They're a “power couple,” so to speak, the types of pillars of society that have the mayor over for dinner.

This woman is devoted to her husband, so much so, she feigns blindness to be transported to the “holding tank” of the asylum while all others around her are actually afflicted with the condition.

This woman becomes the “eyes” for her husband and the band of people placed in her ward, and she simultaneously becomes the “eyes” for the reader. We see everything through her, and we quickly see her conundrum as well. If she reveals her advantage, she may be forced to abandon her blind husband and she may be misused for ill gain. If she conceals her advantage, she can not communicate to others the bad shit that's taking place all around them.

And by “bad shit,” I mean bad shit. I was visibly shaking and unable to sleep after arriving at page 163. It's a scene I'd like to rub right out of my mind, perhaps with sandpaper?

You see. . . it turns out, people kinda suck. They don't want to properly ration the food or be fair. They don't want to share their blankets or their hairbrushes. And, once they've been relegated to living like animals, they want to act like animals, too.

A particularly bad band of men emerges, thieves and criminals who were probably bad before they were caged like animals. Now they want to take and break everything in the asylum, including the women.

The doctor's wife sees everything, and she is in the best and the worst position of all. She sees what needs to be done, but she must do it alone, and do it while the men sell-out her and every other woman in their ward (MEN OF WARD ONE—YOU SONS OF WHORES, I WILL NEVER, EVER FORGIVE YOU).

As the devil himself paws at the doctor's wife with his cloven hooves, wanting to do great harm to her, he concludes, “This one is on the mature side, but could turn out to be quite a woman.”

Truer words were never spoken, Motherfucker.

From that point in the story, I was so focused on revenge, I became the goddamned Count of Monte Cristo. I couldn't be with my family at dinner without discussing the pitfalls of the white blindness, I couldn't stop pestering my buddy Pedro, who got me into this mess in the first place, and I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a week.

I wanted to reach out to the doctor's wife, tell her I was here for her. I could not believe she was tasked with being the only one who could SEE the problem, and I could not believe how much had been laid at one woman's excrement-covered feet. I wasn't surprised when she privately wished for the blindness to strike her, so she wouldn't be asked to show up and save the world.

The doctor's wife reminded me of so many women I have known who have been abandoned by their partners. So many women who have had to shoulder up and do the job of both woman and man, both mother and father.

For anyone who has ever had the revelation at the end of the day that this world is full of too many cowards. . . I offer up to you: the doctor's wife.

I prayed that I should never be assaulted, for I knew I would strike back, even though I would have to pay for it with life itself. --Gerda Weissmann Klein

Συγκλονιστικό και τεράστιο το σύμπαν του Πορτογάλου συγγραφέα- το φωτεινό σύμπαν που καλείσαι να ζήσεις μέσα απο μια φανταστική ιστορία η οποια ειναι φρικτά απίθανη έως πραγματική.

Το περίφημο αυτό βιβλίο ξεκινάει με μια πανδημία τύφλωσης κάπου-κάποτε -οπουδήποτε η οποια ειναι ανεξήγητη και εξαιρετικά πρωτοφανής,μεταδιδόμενη μάλλον,έτσι ώστε σε λίγες μέρες δημιουργείται η κοινωνία των ξαφνικά και απότομα τυφλών και αβοήθητων ανθρώπων.

Αυτή η κοινωνία μπαίνει σε καραντίνα απο τους εξέχοντες κυβερνητικούς παράγοντες και το κράτος δικαίου που ακόμη δεν τους λείπει η όραση ....ειναι- όπως όλοι γνωρίζουμε-πριν την πανδημία αποκτηνωμενοι.

Σε αυτή τη νέα κοινωνία λευκής τυφλότητας επικρατεί ο πόνος,ο πανικός,ο τρόμος,η απελπισία και ολα τα σχετικά με την ανθρώπινη φύση μπροστά στο άγνωστο και το παράλογο. Περιγράφονται δε απο τον συγγραφέα τοσο εντυπωσιακά κυνικά και οικεία-λίγο απέχω απο τον νευρικό κλονισμό-όσο και αληθοφανή.
Μεταφερόμαστε λοιπόν όμορφα και ποιητικά στην κατάρρευση όλων. Στην κατάλυση των πάντων, θεσμών-δεσμών-φραγμών-ηθών-ιδεών και κυρίως απο την λογική και τη νηφαλιότητα του πολιτισμού στην ζωώδη νοοτροπία της ζούγκλας.
Το επόμενο στάδιο ειναι η μετάλλαξη των ανθρώπων -των συνανθρώπων μας- εδω ξεκινάει η αναγνωστική φρίκη και η σπουδαιότητα του συγγραφέα. Απλά και καθημερινά οι διπλανοί μας μεταλλάσσονται απο φυσιολογικά ήρεμα και ευγενικά πλάσματα σε δολοφόνους βιαστές θρασύδειλους και εκβιαστές. Με ένα γύρισμα, μια λάμψη, ολα τα όρια καταρρίπτονται χωρις να υπάρχει ελπίδα και παρηγοριά.
Κάπου εδω ειναι που εύχεσαι να μην είχες αγγίξει αυτό το ιερό καταραμένο βιβλίο. Κάπου εδω αντιλαμβάνεσαι πως η κόλαση των καταραμένων ειναι ένα βήμα μακριά σου. Και κάπου εδω αντιλαμβάνεσαι πως αυτό το βιβλίο ειναι κληρονομιά και αληθινή λογοτεχνία.

Ο συγγραφέα απελπιστικά δυσάρεστος και κυνικός αλλα και τοσο φωτεινός και τρυφερός μας οδηγεί σε μονοπάτια που θα μπορούσαν να αλλάξουν τον κόσμο.
⬛️✡️⬛️
Καλή ανάγνωση!!!
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!

It is easier for me to lambaste a book when it is a translation; after all, maybe it is not the author who should be held accountable for the text’s flaws. Whether or not the translator is culpable, Blindness indeed has many flaws.

First: In order, one must assume, to make the reader’s experience as tantamount to the characters’ as possible, there are no names and no quotation marks to indicate speech. That’s fine enough, but he chooses not to use periods either, that makes almost every sentence, whether it is conversation or not, a long-ass run-on, there is no reason for it, it is not like the final chapter of Ulysses, the whole thing just pissed me off and made me hate reading, good books don’t do that.

Second: The narration, or rather the narrator, is not consistent. It/he/she/they shift from third person omniscient, to third person limited, to first person seemingly present in the scene, to first person removed and either omniscient or limited, to first person plural all of the above. This is not like Mitchell’s books in which different characters narrate different sections—this is just one voice that paradoxically and capriciously changes. Oh, and that has reminded me that the tense suddenly shifts from past to present then shifted back to past then shifts again all arbitrarily. Pathetic!

Third: Unfortunately, the only constant that the narrative voice does have is a meaninglessly verbose style. While I laud Nabokov for one sentence that appears to be a paragraph, that is only because that sentence is composed of so many beautiful parts (all punctuated correctly, no less) that work together to create an even more beautiful image. This writing is more akin to the wandering, rambling speech of Grandpa Simpson which, while hilarious on The Simpsons, has no place within this story.

Finally: The countless instances in which suspension of disbelief is just impossible. A whole city/country/world suddenly goes blind? Okay, sounds like an interesting premise—I’ll buy it. How the author has these newly-blinded people speak and act, well that’s just too much. My main gripe is actually with the primary protagonist, the Doctor’s wife, the only one who does not lose her eyesight. Her utter lack of action and sense of responsibility for the majority of the book almost made me quit reading. I would suggest that one of the themes evident is how readily civilization/morals/mores/humanity/meaning can deteriorate when something changes (like, for instance, being stranded on a desert island with only your schoolmates or Camus' The Plague). My contention is the seeing-woman, who is clearly supposed to be portrayed as the hero, is responsible for many of the injustices and just downright abominable acts that happen. Does she cause them? No. But does she prevent them from happening? No. After all, there’s some saying like “with great eyesight comes great responsibility” or something like that, but for all the trite aphorisms she spouts she must not have heard that one. Hers read like lines in a “B” (at best) grade movie: “We are already half dead, said the doctor, We are still half alive too, answered his wife,” “The woman I was then wouldn’t have said it, I agree, the person who said it was the woman I am today, Let’s see then what the woman you will be tomorrow will have to say…” and “it is his duty to follow her, one never knows when one might have to dry more tears.” All stagy, affected drivel. Finally, hey woman who can see: why not grab a damn flashlight when going down a dark hall or worrying about night setting in? Yes, silly things like that bothered me. They are the things I can overlook in that “B” action movie, but not in a good book.