Seeing is Believing – A Review of Jose Saramago’s “Blindness”

Blindness was one of those many books that I saw in the bookstore, was drawn by the author’s reputation, the story itself and probably the neat cover to boot, bought it, added it to my shelf of literature that has seen similar treatment and forgot about it for a year or two.  I do things like that.  Recently I finally grabbed it on some impulse or another, dusted it off, and finally sat down to read it, though I did put it down now and then because I often get distracted with other things going on.  That’s my life in a nutshell, kids.

I’m not always fond of calling anything “required reading” or “required viewing”, as to each their own regarding matters of taste and importance, but lacking the ability to define what I might exactly call it, I’d consider Blindness to be one of those gems in literature that is close to that status.  Taking place in a nameless city, nearly all of the inhabitants are hit with a strange white blindness that has no known cause or remedy.  The local government reacts as best it can given the pandemonium of the outbreak of an epidemic never seen (check that, experienced) before in the history of man, but ultimately what results is a poorly-designed, apathetic quarantine that fails miserably.  And as the narration follows the experiences of a select few trying to cope with all of these horrible circumstances, the reader is afford glimpses of the degradation of civilized society and ultimately humanity.

Now for those who are not familar with Jose Saramago, be prepared for pain in the eyes (I’ll skip a chance to use a pun on the title).  The Portuguese literary master eschews some of the standards of conventional writing, starting with exceptionally long paragraphs that can take up more than a whole page, conversations that are held without quotations marks (they are rather marked by a sudden capitalization mid-sentence) and a lack of proper names and nouns used.  In fact, though the story is held in a contemporary setting, the reader is never explicitly told where it takes place, the narration identifies people by a distinguishing feature or function, and there are little ties to the rest of the world to give us more of an idea.

Yet, somehow, it all pulls together to be an exciting and thoughtful read.  There is, depending on the moment, genuine tension, unfathomable misery and short bursts of relief that meld well within the dense paragraphs, and you find yourself adjusting to the pacing in a manner you find suitable to where the story is taking you at that moment.  Saramago is a wry and empathetic narrator, adding his own particular touches of sentimental idioms and observations that are full of pity for his characters even if some of the more devious characters get their just desserts.  As the epidemic does not distinguish amongst its victims, so can the narrator appeal to humanity as the characters barely cling to it.

While there can be so much said about the potential political, philosophical, scientific and religious nuances of the literature (many of which could be debated vigorously), there are two aspects of special note that I had the utmost respect for in my read.  One was the careful usage of words or thoughts commonly associated with sight.  The blind will say things like “you’ll see” and “watch yourself”, which obviously mean something else but the reader cannot help but to notice the ridiculous and saddening irony in those words.  Saramago often employs this motif to effective use, especially when that irony is noted in-text by the same character or others.  The blind, used to a world of seeing and of descriptions dependent of sight, certainly find it hard to break away from the familiar.

The second aspect that wowed me was how greatly Saramago exceeded my expectations of what this tragic world would be like and came up with things I wouldn’t have thought of.  Putting more than a little thought into the ramifications of a world of people suddenly sightless. the scene that unfolds is chaotic, appalling and nauseating all at once.  And just when you think you have read or imagined the worst of it as you go along, the author, merciless as the plight itself, opens the doors to new horrors and atrocities.  It is amazing how, in a book about blindness, the vicious telling violates the reader’s senses so.

Blindness is a challenge, to be sure, but more than worthwhile.  Those who are not turned off by the unique writing and the central abstract element of the story will find an enriching novel that challenges the precepts of society, civility, decency and humanity; unlike the characters in the story, we can easily afford to.

My Review:  5 out of 5