I was lent this book many years ago when I barely read five to ten books a year, and soon quit, because of the annoyance of page after page of run-on sentences, un-paragraphed dialogue and zero quotation marks, What the hell! I thought, I'd never come across this before. I can't be doing with this. Here, have your book back.

Two decades later, and after thoroughly enjoying both 'The Double' and 'All the Names' in the last year or so, I got my hands on Blindness again, only this time, having grasped Saramago's writing style by the horns, I was well up it, and wanted to be terrified by the thought of white blindness. I can't say that I was truly terrified, that would make me look like a big softy, but the novel did spook me, especially the middle third where the blind are quarantined in an abandoned mental mental asylum. It is that great feeling of powerlessness, and the insult to human dignity that really got under my skin. Ordinary everyday people, terror-stricken at finding themselves and everyone else blind, normal order breaking down, and everything getting out of control. There is no expertise, no hierarchy, no politics, no electricity, no water. In such a world, nothing can be assumed. Garbage and sewage collect on the streets and food supplies are endlessly fought over. Under these extreme circumstances, Saramago simply asks: what now constitutes a human being?

There is behaviour of such selfish brutality by a gang of thugs who seize power, terrorise the wards and abuse the weaker inmates, flushing all self-respect and human decency down the toilet. I didn't think I would come across the need for sex in this novel, seeing as the inmates would have more important things to worry about, like food and drink, and just staying alive, but a sick and twisted few, obviously feeling they can't keep their dicks in their pants, sight or no sight, had other ideas.

His central characters are as anonymous as those in an obscure play, referred to only as 'the man who first went blind' or 'the boy with a squint', initially connected by the coincidence of attending the ophthalmologist's surgery, and throughout the narrative, once white blindness takes control, only one character (an ophthalmologist's wife) remains sighted, and after claiming to the brutal military that she too is blind so she can stay by her husband's side, she eventually becomes the guide and protector for an improvised family whilst locked up, so it's good to see through the horror and mass cruelty that love and compassion also exists in the novel.

His bleak apocalyptic vision really did attack the senses, and the only thing that bothered me was the optimistic finale (obviously it had to be that way when you take into account the sequel 'Seeing'). Although this was great to see, part of me was wishing things had ended on a downer.
Whether I read Seeing remains to be seen.

Soo... I cheated. I couldn't stomach this anymore. I reached the 60% mark, read another 5%, realized nothing new or profound would be introduced in those chapters and skipped to 87% and read the last chapter.

I'm not ashamed to admit, that when I read for entertainment, I do not read as critically as perhaps others who do appreciate this book. The thing is, I don't think the message the author was trying to convey was that profound Yes, the world is blind. We are blind. Our perception taints things. Just as the woman who believes her abusive husband really loves her, our world and our realities are all shaped by our own perceptions and experiences. I'm not trying to sound like a snot, but I did not need a 300 page incredibly literal metaphor to tell me this.

Worse still, is the level of idiocy of the Doctor's wife. She does not at all behave how I would expect a person in a survival situation to behave. After days and days of having to hide her ability to see, she opens up her big mouth and notes her surroundings to her husband. This of course causes the blind people crammed all around her to take notice. What happens after that? Mass panic. A stampede. More people dying.

She has multiple opportunities to kill the antagonists in this book, and gives us thin, flimsy excuses as to why she can't. Her hand is inches away from the gun the antagonist holds and she can't kill him because she has to suck him off first?? Are you fucking kidding me? This is where the whole book went from being a 3 star read to a book I'd like to burn.

There are disgusting scenes of mass rape. So again, TRIGGER WARNINGS for those of you that have them. People start shitting where they sleep, literally, after like, a week. (And no, this is not a good way to highlight how the people have become animals because even animals do not do this.) The kid with the squint's mother is totally absent, as if a mother, who cared enough to take him to eye appointments, would just simply abandon him. The people are identified not by names, (for some ridiculous reason that I'm sure I've the point on) but by their eye patch, or their dark glasses, or their squint. All things you would need to see to know.

The best part of this whole thing, is the author's style of writing is a rage inducing level of difficult to read. Entire conversations look like this: how are you today, I am fine, and you, and I am well too, thank you, let us have a bite, shall we? And on and on and on. Now imagine the whole book features seven characters stuck together at all times. Imagine those conversations.

I'm sorry because I think a few of my wonderful GoodReads buddies really enjoyed this one, and I am happy that they did. For those of you that enjoy analyzing literature, I'm sure there is plenty to discuss here. Perhaps this is a book better read with a buddy or in a group.

Imagine the most ordinary situation in the world.

People waiting at a traffic light. All of us can see that before our inner eyes, relive thousands of similar situations we have experienced ourselves, without ever giving them a moment of consideration. Thus starts Saramago's Blindness. But there is a disruption. One car is not following the rules all take for granted. The car doesn't move when the light switches to green. People are annoyed, frustrated, disturbed in their routines, but not worried:

"Some drivers have already got out of their cars, prepared to push the stranded vehicle to a spot where it will not hold up the traffic, they beat furiously on the closed windows, the man inside turns his head in their direction, he is clearly shouting something, to judge by the movements of his mouth he appears to be repeating some words, not one word but three, as turns out to be the case when someone finally manages to open the door, I am blind."

I AM BLIND. This is the beginning of what my son labelled the scariest book he ever read, and yet such a perfectly brilliant masterpiece. Similar to Camus' La peste and Ionesco's Rhinocéros in more than one respect, it takes the reader to the darkest abyss of despair and filth and pain.

Deprived of the sense of seeing, the characters have to cope with brutal bestiality and suffering to survive in a world limited by the loss of vision - an accurate symbol for overview, control, and objective judgement of reality. If Camus' characters are invaded by plague-stricken rats and dying of the disease, Saramago's society breaks down even more completely when the epidemic blindness strikes. Humans turn into beasts, comparable to the rhinofication in Ionesco's allegory on community collapse.

One character, a Cassandra of sorts, is excluded from the plague, and she guides the plot with her seeing eyes. What she sees is unbearable, even to the reader. Rarely have I felt more shaken than while reading the scene with the blind thugs raping hungry women. The seeing woman steps in and uses her power to break off the horror show, but it will leave a scar on my reading inner eye forever. Bizarrely, that means a scene I never actually saw is engraved on my visual memory.

When reflecting on why the women didn't fight back from the beginning when the opportunist gangsters started to take control of the blind community, they give the same reasons as so many women facing sexual abuse:

"We failed to put up resistance as we should have done when they first came making demands, Of course, we were afraid and fear isn't always a wise counsellor..."

Desperate needs, inequality of power, shameless gang mentality, helplessness in an exposed situation, loss of control, all these things play a role. And the humiliation of being exploited as an object without individual value is not diminished in blindness. Inside, we remain seeing.

An allegory of the breakdown of civilisation, Blindness is also the story of those who finally start resisting raw violence and brutal force, and of those who see through the darkness. However, even as the blind spell breaks, and people are regaining their vision, the world is changed forever. Blindness has become a real threat, a terrifying possibility lurking underneath everyday worries. If it can happen once, it can happen again. And who knows when? You may be waiting at a traffic light, and all of a sudden, life goes white...

The one person who remains seeing through the whole catastrophe realises in the end that people might not actually have been literally blind at all:

"Blind people who can see, but do not see."

That is a tragic reflection on humankind. We turn to mass blindness in periods, not because we are physically unable to see, but because we DO not see. We can see, we have the tools for seeing, but we do not use them - not as long as the cars keep moving when the traffic lights turn green. We only start to see that we do not see when we turn blind and there is a disruption in our unseeing complacency.

We sometimes need an epidemic blindness to wake up and see what happens underneath the polished surface of our civilisation.

Let's use our eyes, literally and figuratively, to see what we need to see. Let's not turn a blind eye to the world's troubles! We know we can easily fall into the barbaric state of blindness. It has happened before.

Let's not forget blindness in order to keep our vision clear.

This is not just a book you read, it reads you too. It is not a book that you can shelve, once it is read - it stays with you. Will you dare pick it up, let it stare into your soul?

I read this over 10 years ago and it is still very present in my mind. It has repeatedly come back to me, I have been recommending it and thinking about it. Yes, also worrying a bit more.

Without spoiling it the story is quickly told: blindness spreads like a disease. It is terrifying in that it just happens, suddenly life is very very different. Also it doesn't only happen to you, it happens to others. As more go blind, more must deal with life without seeing. It gets very very nasty very quick.

The next remarkable attribute of this book is the way it is told. People don't have names, they are only described. The mother, the wife, the doctor. Sentences unfold and meander, flow long and wash your awareness with them. Saramago's chosen style builds the engrossing atmosphere. Just for this I wish I could read the original Spanish.

This book is among the greatest for me. Special among the few. Read it, if you dare.

Imagina que estás en el coche parado esperando a que el semáforo se ponga en verde un día cualquiera...y de repente empiezas a verlo todo blanco. Te has quedado ciego de golpe...y el resto de gente también.
Así empieza Ensayo sobre la ceguera, una historia con características distópicas donde el ser humano va a tener que adaptarse a su nueva condición.
Conocía la premisa de esta historia pero no imaginaba que la forma de contarla sería tan bruta, sin finuras ni romanticismos, tan escatológica y extrema.
Saramago intenta explorar la esencia del ser humano sometido a una situación brutal, lo que permanece cuando no queda nada (ni convenciones sociales, ni valores, ni siquiera tu propio nombre).
Aunque hay algunos momentos de la trama que me molestaron un poco, fueron muy puntuales y tengo que decir que los personajes femeninos me parecieron los mejores.
En cuanto al estilo, es importante conectar con él, forma parte de la historia y puede costar acostumbrarse. Es tan especial que hasta creo que puede definir que la obra guste o no.
Recomendaría no saber mucho más, entrar en la lectura "a ciegas" para que la experiencia sorprenda más.

I had been idle on goodreads for several months due to a form of torpor arising from being workaholic. I had been toiling hard at my work to impress my superior and, concomitantly, get a hike or promotion (God knows why! No matter how much I get persistent in shunning the beaten track of life, I again get sucked back to it as if the common-place life is a giant blackhole, always ready to engulf back those who go astray from it). One day, 18th feb 2016, I started reading Blindness by Jose` Saramago for no particular reason. Saramago, the Portugese writer, gave me a ticket instantly for a mental sojourn outside of the mettlesome and cumbersome reality that I am in, trapped. I am grateful. Into the pages, I dissolved. I grew wings and I flew into the realm of Blindness. My mind’s eye closed revealing a luminous white ‘blindness’, while my physical eye trudged past enthusiastically the haunting sequence of words that flows with a never ending turbulence. The full-stops are frighteningly less… before you reach a full-stop after series of run-on sentences, you will already be panting. But the exhaustion is an exhilarating one, not enervating. This is an exhaustion you get addicted to. Thank you Saramago for pushing me into a delectable state of exhaustion.

An unknown person in an unknown land suddenly plunges into a strange blindness in the middle of a road. His visual canvas is suddenly painted all white, milky white, obliterating the colourful painting his vision once was, by an unknown ‘brush’. He sees nothing but absolute white. He screams out of sheer despair, out of sheer terror. Thus ‘Blindness’ has been born, unprecedented and devoid of any explanation. The eyes that fell victim to this white sickness didn’t spare anyone that had normal vision. With an unswerving determination, the disease spreads like an inundating fog. The government, in a frantic attempt to curb the unprecedented cataclysm, decides to confine the initial victims. An erstwhile mental asylum was chosen as the quarantine. Thus came together the characters of our story : Doctor, Doctor’s wife, first blind man, first blindman’s wife, car-thief, girl with glasses, boy with the squint and the blackman with eyepatch. In the realm of blindness ‘Names’ are insignificant, meaningless. In the realm of blindness, all factors like beauty, features, expressions, gestures diffuse into an all-obliterating white mist. The person’s identity narrows down to his voice alone. The voice that speaks out his soul.

Who are you? I am the voice that you hear

No matter what conditions strike humanity, there exists an animal nature that clings to everyone like a leech. Altruism and magnanimity are just a garb that one dons in good times. As soon as the wards of the asylum get inundated with victims, the animal nature looms out as the shortage of food and water became harrowing. As everyone is blind, there is no masquerade left for the animal instinct, and it sticks its head out in all its selfish ferocity. Hunger and despair drive everyone to madness. A clique of ruffians takes over the asylum using armed coercion, wresting control over the food and its supply. Soon the ruffians demanded women, money as payment for providing sustenance to the blind internees. Amidst the cataclysm of blindness and the paucity of life-sustaining food, the blind internees are forced to surrender their pride, their masculinity, their soul. Will they strike back? You got to read to know everything in its complete form.

Saramago created an all powerful dystopian fable that is so haunting and so eye-opening that, we understand that once the deceptive and alluring vision is lost, the beautiful garb our soul has donned– our body- no longer exists and the soul itself looms out of the surface, revealing its fang. This animal nature resulting from the utmost despair and haplessness is beautifully portrayed in this ghastly novel of paramount significance. Excerpts from the novel expounds why humans are selfish and animal-like in the utmost sense:

“Many hours have passed since he last asked his mummy, but no doubt he will start to miss her again after having eaten, when his body finds itself released from the brute selfishness that stems from the simple, but pressing need of sustenance.”

“When the bowels function normally, anyone can have ideas, debate, for example, whether there exists a direct relationship between the eyes and feelings, or whether the sense of responsibility is the natural consequence of clear vision, but when we are in distress and plagued by pain and anguish that is when the animal side of our nature becomes most apparent”

Saramago painted a very accurate picture of the’ blind’ world. He even refrained from naming his characters which is meaningless in an incorporeal world of blindness where a person is merely the voice he utters, and he possesses nothing, even the 8 or 9 inches of land his feet is on.

Among the characters, Doctor’s wife is a tantamount to perfect composure and maturity. When all the blind people turned to mere hungry animals, she with her unswerving determination fed and guided the people she loved, saving them from a very terrible abyss. She is akin to Ma Joad of Grapes of Wrath, both being composed and essentially matured in the face of debilitating reality. But Doctor’s wife is much more intellectual than Ma Joad ( a simple lady) and has a philosophical inclination, if that is a big difference. She, the only one who could see, carried into her arms all the mentioned above, guiding them like a mother. She transcended her limitations as being a wife, a well-bred middle aged woman as you can see as you read the novel (I don’t wish to reveal anything that is important).

I personally have chosen at random a dialogue by Doctor’s wife which shows how sturdy her character and resolve is, which is absolutely essential for anyone who is facing a crisis.

“Do we have enough strength for this task of carrying this dead woman, asked the girl with dark glasses, The question is not whether we have enough strength, the question is whether we can allow this to ourselves to leave this woman here, Certainly not, said the doctor, Then the strength must be found.”

As I turned the last page, though I was joyfully tired, a sharp pang of sadness developed in my heart. The strange, ensorcelling sojourn into the literary genius of Saramago has been fruitful, satiating. To revisit once more, though briefly, the world I visited, I, furtively, closed my eyes feigning that I am blind. Blindness. I smiled.

5 stars on 5!
-gautam

این رمان آخرالزمانی با یک فاجعه استعاری از بلایی حرف میزنه که در قرن اخیر بر سر بشر مدرن اومده: کوری
اما این بار کوری سفید
فکر میکنم معنای کوری سفید این باشه که ما از شدت داشتن اطلاعات دیگه اون چیزی که باید بفهمیم را نمیفهمیم و چیزهای اساسی را نمیبینیم
فیلمی هم بر اساس این رمان ساخته شده که مثل همهء موارد مشابه پیشنهاد میکنم یا فیلم را اصلا نبینید یا این که لااقل تا قبل از خواندن رمان نبینید
چون این رمان از اونهاست که برای ساختن تصاویر در ذهن خودتون واقعا باید تلاش کنید و فیلم همه اون تصاویر ذهنی را نابود میکنه.

- تخيّل أن تعيش حياتَك بعد أن تقفد فجأةً نورَ عينيك و أصبح كل ما تراه ستاراً أبيض ، هذا ما يدور حوله الرواية ، أبدع فيها كاتبها بوصف و فهم النفس البشرية و تقلُّباتها و ردود أفعالها .


- فتجده بشكلٍ بليغ يصف أحوال الشعوب و الحكومات و المشاعر من خوف و يأس و قنوط و رجاء فكان وصفه دقيقا معبرا .
تعيش في هذه الرواية الخوف و الرعب الذي يصاحب هذه الفكرة و كيف يستطيع البشر أن يفعلوا أشياء لم تتخيل قط أن يفكروا فيها حتي ، فكانت تجربة فريدة ترى فيها الناس يتبعون فيها غرائزهم و ينحطّون إلي أدني مستويات الفكر و الحضارة.

- و تدرك بعد ذلك أن الاكثر رعبا أن يصاحب هذا العمي فقدان الامل فيتبعه ذلك فقدان الفضيلة البشرية و تُرى ماذا سيحدث بعد ذلك غير الفساد و الدمار الذي سيحل بالعالم و من يسكنوه فالكل سيقولُ : نفسي نفسي .



- أعجبتني الشخصيات و عشت معها خوفها و أملها و يأسها .
- لم يعجبني حقيقة اسلوب الكاتب التجريدي و الذي يصعِّب القراءة احيانا فلا تعرف من يتحدث الا بعد مشقة .
- كنتُ اريد أن أرى المزيد من الاحداث و لكن قلة الاحداث كان شيئا مقصودا من الكاتب إذ أن الرواية كان غرضها عرض طبيعة الانسان النفسية و قد أوفي الكاتب هذا الجزء .
- لم يكن هناك اسماء بالرواية رغم كثرة شخصياتها و ذلك أنّ الاسماء لم تعد مهمة في عالم أبلغُ ما يمكن أن تقدم به نفسك قولُك بأنك أعمي .
- ترجمة محمد حبيب كانت جيدة.
- الرواية بها بعض الأوصاف و المشاهد الصعبة لا تناسب الجميع.

- الرواية لها فيلم لم يكن جيدا و لكن نجح في تقديم الشخصيات و الأماكن بشكل ممتع .

- بالنهاية كانت رحلة ممتعة مفعمة بالاحاسيس رغم وجود بعض الاسهاب

کتاب کوری را که تمام کردم این احساس را داشتم که چشم‌هایم دردناک‌اند. چرا؟ چون در کتاب کوری درد را نمی‌خوانیم، درد را احساس می‌کنیم، می‌چشیم! دردی با طعم گس تلخی بی‌پایان. بیناییم یا نابینا؟ مرز دیدن و ندیدن کجاست؟ آیا هر دیدنی دیدن است؟

کتاب کوری تمامی اصول اخلاقی ما را به چالش می‌طلبد. هر آنچه از جامعه به ما خورانده شده است را در معرض بازبینی قرار می‌دهد و از مطلق‌گرایی به نسبیت امور می‌رسد. گاهی جان را بخشیدن و نانی آوردن کار درستی است و گاهی جانی را گرفتن.

این کتاب سرشار از تمثیل‌های نمادین است که می‌تواند تا آخر عمر دیدمان را به زندگی تغییر دهد. به طور کلی کتابی است که می‌توان گفت قبل از خواندن کوری این‌گونه فکر می‌کردم و بعد از خواندنش جوری دیگر!

توصیف وضعیتی منحصر به فرد که به هر پدیده و هر اتفاق عمق خاصی بخشیده و بشریت را از عصر تمدن به عصر زوال می‌برد�� کنایه می‌زند که به واقع چه چیزی دارد به سرمان می‌آید. عمیق‌ترین نیازها و افکار انسانی سرکوب‌شده در پس این کوری سربرآورده‌اند، نیازهای واقعی، نه متظاهرانه. این سربرآوردن نیازها، ما را به غریزه نزدیک می‌کند، به زندگی حیوانی، و کنایه‌ای است به اینکه در هرج و مرج و رفتارهایی خالی از تفکر تا چه حد به بعد حیوانی وجودمان نزدیکیم.

در کتاب ما با هیچ اسمی روبرو نیستیم. آدم‌ها با یک ویژگی بارز ظاهری‌شان معرفی می‌شوند. اما نقطه مشترک این ویژگی چیست؟ چشم! پسرک لوچ، دختری با عینک دودی، پیرمردی با چشم‌بند سیاه، دکتری که چشم‌پزشک است و ... اسم‌ها می‌توانند همذات‌پنداری شما با شخصیت‌های داستان را بسیار بیشتر کنند، با این حال شگفتا که ساراماگو چنان ماهرانه از پس توصیف‌های بی‌نظیر برآمده که شما به هیچ اسمی احتیاج ندارید. شما خودتان را در آن شهر می‌بینید، گویی که از نگاه راوی ناظر آدم‌ها باشید.

تنها ایرادی که من می‌توانم به این کتاب وارد کنم کمی پرگویی آن است. تکرار مکررات و وجود بخش‌هایی قابل حذف که نبودنشان لطمه‌ای به داستان وارد نمی‌کند.

گاهی در ذهنم کوری با قلعه حیوانات مقایسه می‌شد اما این کجا و آن کجا؟ قلعه حیوانات علی‌رغم متفاوت بودن کارت‌هایش را خیلی رو بازی کرده است و تنها تفکر ما را درگیر می‌کند، اما کوری از طریق برانگیختن احساسات تفکر را به تکاپو می‌اندازد.

کوری آفریننده‌ی یک شاهکار است، کتابی که هر کسی در زندگی‌اش باید یک بار آن را بخواند.

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جملات ماندگار کتاب:

غم و شادی بر خلاف آب و روغن می‌توانند با هم مخلوط شوند.
...
خانه واقعی هر شخص جایی است که در آن می‌خوابد.
...
همه‌مان گاهی درمانده می‌شویم، چه بهتر که هنوز می‌توانیم گریه کنیم، اشک ریختن اغلب مایه‌ی نجات است، بعضی وقت‌ها اگر گریه نکنیم به قیمت جانمان تمام می‌شود.
...
همه گناهکار و بی‌گناهیم.
...
اگر نمی‌توانیم مانند انسان‌ها زندگی کنیم لااقل سعی کنیم مانند حیوانات زندگی نکنیم.
...
صدا وسیله بینایی فردی ست که نمی‌تواند ببیند.
...
انگار از خنده‌ی خودش دردش آمد.
...
حالا که ظاهرا همه دارند کور می‌شوند، زیبایی دیگر بی‌معنی است.
...
شاید فقط در دنیای کورهاست که همه‌چیز همانی است که واقعا هست.
...
من خیلی مطمئن نیستم که فلاکت و شرارت حد و حدودی داشته باشد.
...
انسانی که فاقد پوسته‌ی دومی به نام خودبینی باشد، هنوز از مادر زاده نشده است.
...
سکوت بهترین شیوه تایید است.

"رغم ان البلاء عام على الجميع، فهناك دائما من يعيش زمنا أسوا من الاخرين"
عندما تقف امام تحفة فنية رائعة يكون الصمت هو المعبر عن هذه الروعة.
وانا اعجز عن قول اي شيء امام تحفة جوزيه ساراماغو،
فهكذا تستطيع ان تفوز بجائزة نوبل للاداب .
عمى فجائي يجتاح الجميع وعودة للبصر فجاة ايضا واثناء ذلك يبين تغير الناس من حال الى حال من حب النفس والاهواء الشخصية والطموحات الفردية الى حالة اقصى طموحها الحصول على وجبة طعام دون التفكير بأي شيء اخر السيارات بالشوارع تستخدم فقط للمبيت والمنازل اصبحت مشاعا من يصل اليها ينام فيها دون ملكية فردية، كل شيء مشاع وجعل زوجة الطبيب التي لم يصيبها العمى في الرواية الشاهد الرئيسي على هذه التغيرات وحتى انها تمنت العمى لنفسها حتى تتساوى معهم.
انها دعوة الى البصيرة والاهتمام بالحياة الحقيقية وملخص الرواية يكون في مقولة الشاهدة الرئيسية: "لا اعتقد اننا عمينا، بل اعتقد اننا عميان، عميان يرون، بشر عميان يستطيعون ان بروا ولكنهم لا يرون."
انصح الجميع بقرائتها والاستمتاع

"Görmek" gibi güçlü bir metaforun eksenine oturtularak sıkıca örülmüş kurgusuyla insanoğlunun "görmekten kaçınacağı" rahatsız edici gerçekleri, gaddarlığı, yoketmeyi epey iyi anlatan Saramago romanı. Görmek mi görmemek mi daha iyi düşündüren cinsten.

Saramago da anlattığı şeyi biçime kusursuz dönüştürenlerden. Noktalama yoksunluğuyla da bunun altını güzelce çizmiş bu kitapta.

Kesinlikle tavsiye ederim.

Μια αναπαράσταση της απόλυτης φρίκης που ταράζει την επιφανειακή, εσωτερική μας γαλήνη και μας αναγκάζει να βουτήξουμε σε μια ενδελεχή διερεύνηση της ατομικής ψυχοσύνθεσης αλλά και της κοινωνικής συμπεριφοράς. Μια κοινωνία όπου ο καθένας προστατεύεται από μια αόρατη μάσκα τυφλότητας που καλύπτει τα μάτια του ιδίου και των συνανθρώπων του.

Πρόκειται ουσιαστικά για ένα ξεγύμνωμα της ανθρώπινης ψυχής σε έναν κόσμο όπου χάνονται τα ανθρώπινα ιδανικά, όπου δεν υπάρχουν ηθικοί φραγμοί, καθολικά αποδεκτοί νόμοι και τιμωρίες, κανόνες συμπεριφοράς ή κοινωνικές νόρμες και όπου ευδοκιμεί η ασυδοσία και η πλήρης αναρχία, με αποτέλεσμα την ισοπέδωση της ανθρώπινης αξιοπρέπειας και επομένως το μηδενισμό του ανθρώπου και της ίδιας της ζωής.

‘’Σε ένα παράνομο σύστημα, υφίστασαι έναν καθ’ όλα νόμιμο θάνατο’’.

Ένας νέος κόσμος, ξένος προς το δικό μας, ασύλληπτος απ’ τη λογική και την ηθική που χαρακτηρίζει έναν ελεύθερο, ευνοημένο, προστατευμένο από το νόμο άνθρωπο του δικού μας κόσμου. Ένας κόσμος βασισμένος σε ζωώδη ένστικτα, όπου κάθε σκέψη και πράξη καθοδηγείται από την ανάγκη της επιβίωσης. Άνθρωποι που συνειδητοποιούν πως δεν έχουν τίποτα να χάσουν, και μέσα σ’αυτή την συνειδητοποίηση παύουν να βλέπουν τον άλλον άνθρωπο ως τέτοιο, και δέχονται αναντίρρητα οποιαδήποτε ωμότητα και βιαιότητα φαντάζει εξωφρενική στο δικό μας ‘’πολιτισμένο’’ κόσμο, με σκοπό να εγερθούν από τον ηθικό βούρκο όπου έχουν εκπέσει.

Σε όλο αυτό το εγχείρημα τον συγγραφέα βοηθά η έννοια μιας μεταδοτικής ανορθολογικής τυφλότητας, μιας λευκής τυφλότητας ή λευκής πληγής όπως χαρακτηριστικά αναφέρεται. Ένας άνθρωπος τυφλώνεται ξαφνικά, ύστερα ένας δεύτερος, και ένας τρίτος, έως ότου να καταλήξει τυφλή μια ολόκληρη χώρα. Υπάρχει μόνο ένα ζευγάρι μάτια που βλέπουν, μάτια που θα προσπαθήσουν να διατηρήσουν μια στοιχειώδη τάξη. Όμως όπως είναι λογικό δεν αρκούν αυτά για να ανορθωθεί ξανά η ανθρωπότητα στο πρότερο ανθρωπιστικό της βάθρο και να κατατροπώσει τα νέα συστήματα εξουσίας και κυριαρχίας που δημιουργούνται. Χρειάζεται συλλογική δράση, όπως άλλωστε και σε οποιοδήποτε άλλο εγχείρημα, αφού ο κόσμος έχει ανάγκη από όλες τις ομάδες ανθρώπων για να λειτουργήσει. Το να βλέπει ένας ή λίγοι την ώρα που οι υπόλοιποι επιλέγουν να μη δουν, θα οδηγήσει στην τύφλωση ακόμα και αυτούς που βλέπουν:

‘’Θα βλέπω όλο και λιγότερο, ακόμα και αν δε χάσω την όρασή μου, θα γίνομαι κάθε μέρα όλο και πιο τυφλή γιατί δε θα’ χω κανέναν να με βλέπει..’’

‘’Ο χειρότερος τυφλός είναι αυτός που δε θέλει να δει…’’

Σε όλο το βιβλίο βλέπουμε μια επιστροφή στην πρωτόγονη ζωή, με βασικές όμως διαφορές: ‘’Επιστρέψαμε στις πρωτόγονες ομάδες, είπε ο γέρος με τη μαύρη καλύπτρα, με τη διαφορά ότι δεν είμαστε μερικές χιλιάδες άντρες και γυναίκες, σε μια φύση απέραντη και άθικτη, αλλά χιλιάδες χιλιάδων, σε έναν κόσμο ξεκοκαλισμένο και αποστραγγισμένο… Και τυφλό’’

Ολοκληρώνοντας το βιβλίο, αυτό που πρώτα ήθελα να ξεκαθαρίσω μέσα μου ήταν τι ήθελε ο συγγραφέας να παραστήσει με την ‘’λευκή τυφλότητα’’. Και ενώ αντιλαμβάνομαι ότι όσοι είναι οι αναγνώστες του βιβλίου τόσες είναι και οι διαφορετικές εκδοχές, άποψή μου είναι πώς η τυφλότητα αντιπροσωπεύει ουσιαστικά την αδιαφορία προς τον συνάνθρωπο, την έλλειψη της επικοινωνίας και του συλλογικού αισθήματος και την ανθρώπινη αποξένωση. Τυφλοί απέναντι στη δυστυχία και τα προβλήματα των άλλων, εγωκεντρικοί, εμμονικοί με τα ατομικά συμφέροντα αδυνατούμε, να δούμε πως μέσω της συνεργασίας και της εμπιστοσύνης μπορούμε να οδηγηθούμε στη συλλογική λύτρωση.

Ένα άλλο που ήθελα να ξεκαθαρίσω στο μυαλό μου είναι το γιατί επιλέγει να μην χρησιμοποιήσει ονόματα. Ίσως είναι απλώς κομμάτι της τεχνοτροπίας του. Ίσως απ’ την άλλη θέλει να δείξει πώς στο κάτω κάτω αυτό που μας ξεχωρίζει και που ορίζει την ταυτότητά μας δεν είναι τα ονόματά, μας αλλά τα άλλα ιδιαίτερα χαρακτηριστικά μας, το επάγγελμα, η ιδιότητα και οι πράξεις μας.

Ο χειμαρρώδης λόγος του απ’ τη μία ταιριάζει απόλυτα με τη σκοτεινή και φρενήρη ροή των γεγονότων, απ’ την άλλη δυσκολεύει αρκετά την ανάγνωση, αφού χρησιμοποιεί περιόδους, παραλείπει τα σημεία στίξης και μια πρόταση ίσως καταλαμβάνει έκταση μιας σελίδας. Νομίζω πως αυτό συνηθίζεται από ένα σημείο και μετά.

‘’Νομίζω ότι δεν τυφλωθήκαμε, νομίζω ότι είμαστε τυφλοί, Τυφλοί που βλέπουν, Τυφλοί που δε βλέπουν και ας βλέπουν’’

‘’Δε γεννήθηκε ακόμα το πρώτο ανθρώπινο πλάσμα που δεν είναι εξοπλισμένο με το δεύτερο πετσί που ονομάζουμε εγωισμό και είναι πολύ πιο χοντρό από το άλλο που με το πραμικρό ματώνει’’…..

Και ένα αγαπημένο μου σημείο:
‘’Αν πριν από κάθε μας πράξη, μπορούσαμε να προβλέψουμε όλες τις συνέπειές της, να τις αναλογιστούμε σοβαρά, πρώτα τις άμεσες, κατόπιν τις πιθανές, ύστερα τις δυνατές και μετά τις φανταστικές, στο τέλος ούτε που θα κουνιόμασταν από κει που μας σταμάτησε η πρώτη μας σκέψη’’…..