Blindness By Jose Saramago Paperback, 352 pages Mariner Books List Price: $15 My favorite books are serious, but with a sense of humor, philosophical without being pedantic, and slightly fantastical without being silly. On top of that, they've got to be smart, insightful, honest and beautifully written.

In Blindness, we learn that an epidemic of blindness is sweeping through a city, and from that premise, Saramago tackles all of human nature — love, loyalty, fear, jealousy, bravery, heroism, cowardice, violence, happiness, disappointment — it's all in there, revealed through characters so beautifully rendered, so vibrant on the page, that each time I read it, I immediately join Saramago's sightless band, tossed together by circumstance first into a chaotic quarantine center for the newly blind, and then loosed into a world that has fallen apart. Saramago was the first Portuguese writer to win the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Editorial Reviews. Amazon.com Review. In an unnamed city in an unnamed country, a man sitting in his car waiting for a traffic light to change is suddenly struck blind. But instead of being. Itself alters to suit the circumstances as once-civilized, urban dwellers become ragged nomads traveling by touch from building to building in search of food. This is a record of all the valid book recommendations I received before, during and in the year after my 2012 quest. I chose one book for each nation for the project.

He at age 87. Bengt Eurenius/AP In 2005, when I heard the horror stories that were coming out of New Orleans' Superdome in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, it was chilling how closely they matched the experiences of Saramago's quarantined characters, but it was also thrilling: Here was a writer who had gotten it right, who had nailed human nature so precisely that the real world was mirroring what his imagination had conjured, under slightly different circumstances, years before. OK, so maybe the book is a little dark — all right, more than a little dark — but it's also a rollicking adventure story, and a love story, and a story of triumph over adversity. Anwar Tamil Movie Hd Video Songs Free Download on this page. Torrent Wakfu Saison 2 Friends.

Saramago tells his tale with humor and compassion, and with an imagination that is boundless enough to conjure an impossible epidemic without losing sight of the exigencies of actual life, achieving that rare blend of magic and reality in which the fantastical allows us to see our own world more clearly, from a perspective that brings out details we might not have otherwise considered. Blindness By Jose Saramago Paperback, 352 pages Harvest Books List Price: $15 The amber light came on. Two of the cars ahead accelerated before the red light appeared. At the pedestrian crossing the sign of a green man lit up.

The people who were waiting began to cross the road, stepping on the white stripes painted on the black surface of the asphalt, there is nothing less like a zebra, however, that is what it is called. The motorists kept an impatient foot on the clutch, leaving their cars at the ready, advancing, retreating like nervous horses that can sense the whiplash about to be inflicted. The pedestrians have just finished crossing but the sign allowing the cars to go will be delayed for some seconds, some people maintain that this delay, while apparently so insignificant, has only to be multiplied by the thousands of traffic lights that exist in the city and by the successive changes of their three colours to produce one of the most serious causes of traffic jams or bottlenecks, to use the more current term. The green light came on at last, the cars moved off briskly, but then it became clear that not all of them were equally quick off the mark. The car at the head of the middle lane has stopped, there must be some mechanical fault, a loose accelerator pedal, a gear lever that has stuck, problem with the suspension, jammed brakes, breakdown in the electric circuit, unless he has simply run out of gas, it would not be the first time such a thing has happened. The next group of pedestrians to gather at the crossing see the driver of the stationary car wave his arms behind the windshield, while the cars behind him frantically sound their horns.

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, first to one side then the other, 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. Who would have believed it. Seen merely at a glance, the man's eyes seem healthy, the iris looks bright, luminous, the sclera white, as compact as porcelain. The eyes wide open, the wrinkled skin of the face, his eyebrows suddenly screwed up, all this, as anyone can see, signifies that he is distraught with anguish. With a rapid movement, what was in sight has disappeared behind the man's clenched fists, as if he were still trying to retain inside his mind the final image captured, a round red light at the traffic lights.

I am blind, I am blind, he repeated in despair as they helped him to get out of the car, and the tears welling up made those eyes which he claimed were dead, shine even more. These things happen, it will pass you'll see, sometimes it's nerves, said a woman. The lights had already changed again, some inquisitive passersby had gathered around the group, and the drivers further back who did not know what was going on, protested at what they thought was some common accident, a smashed headlight, a dented fender, nothing to justify this upheaval, Call the police, they shouted and get that old wreck out of the way. The blind man pleaded, Please, will someone take me home. The woman who had suggested a case of nerves was of the opinion that an ambulance should be summoned to transport the poor man to the hospital, but the blind man refused to hear of it, quite unnecessary, all he wanted was that someone might accompany him to the entrance of the building where he lived. It's close by and you could do me no greater favour. And what about the car, asked someone.

Another voice replied, The key is in the ignition, drive the car on to the pavement. No need, intervened a third voice, I'll take charge of the car and accompany this man home. There were murmurs of approval. The blind man felt himself being taken by the arm, Come, come with me, the same voice was saying to him. They eased him into the front passenger seat, and secured the safety belt. I can't see, I can't see, he murmured, still weeping. Tell me where you live, the man asked him.

Through the car windows voracious faces spied, avid for some news. The blind man raised his hands to his eyes and gestured, Nothing, it's as if I were caught in a mist or had fallen into a milky sea. But blindness isn't like that, said the other fellow, they say that blindness is black, Well I see everything white, That little woman was probably right, it could be a matter of nerves, nerves are the very devil, No need to talk to me about it, it's a disaster, yes a disaster, Tell me where you live please, and at the same time the engine started up. Faltering, as if his lack of sight had weakened his memory, the blind man gave his address, then he said, I have no words to thank you, and the other replied, Now then, don't give it another thought, today it's your turn, tomorrow it will be mine, we never know what might lie in store for us, You're right, who would have thought, when I left the house this morning, that something as dreadful as this was about to happen. He was puzzled that they should still be at a standstill, Why aren't we moving, he asked, The light is on red, replied the other.

From now on he would no longer know when the light was red. Excerpted from Blindness by Jose Saramago Copyright 1995 by Jose Saramago. Excerpted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Chapter One The amber light came on. Two of the cars ahead acceleratedbefore the red light appeared.

At the pedestrian crossingthe sign of a green man lit up. The people who were waitingbegan to cross the road, stepping on the white stripes paintedon the black surface of the asphalt, there is nothing less like azebra, however, that is what it is called. The motorists kept animpatient foot on the clutch, leaving their cars at the ready, advancing,retreating like nervous horses that can sense the whiplashabout to be inflicted. The pedestrians have just finishedcrossing but the sign allowing the cars to go will be delayed forsome seconds, some people maintain that this delay, while apparentlyso insignificant, has only to be multiplied by the thousandsof traffic lights that exist in the city and by the successivechanges of their three colours to produce one of the most seriouscauses of traffic jams or bottlenecks, to use the more currentterm.

The green light came on at last, the cars moved off briskly, butthen it became clear that not all of them were equally quick offthe mark. The car at the head of the middle lane has stopped,there must be some mechanical fault, a loose accelerator pedal, agear lever that has stuck, problem with the suspension, jammedbrakes, breakdown in the electric circuit, unless he has simply runout of gas, it would not be the first time such a thing has happened.The next group of pedestrians to gather at the crossingsee the driver of the stationary car wave his arms behind thewindshield, while the cars behind him frantically sound theirhorns. Some drivers have already got out of their cars, preparedto push the stranded vehicle to a spot where it will not hold upthe traffic, they beat furiously on the closed windows, the maninside turns his head in their direction, first to one side then theother, he is clearly shouting something, to judge by the movementsof his mouth he appears to be repeating some words, notone word but three, as turns out to be the case when someonefinally manages to open the door, I am blind. Who would have believed it. Seen merely at a glance, theman's eyes seem healthy, the iris looks bright, luminous, the sclerawhite, as compact as porcelain. The eyes wide open, the wrinkledskin of the face, his eyebrows suddenly screwed up, all this, asanyone can see, signifies that he is distraught with anguish.With a rapid movement, what was in sight has disappeared behindthe man's clenched fists, as if he were still trying to retaininside his mind the final image captured, a round red light atthe traffic lights.

I am blind, I am blind, he repeated in despairas they helped him to get out of the car, and the tears wellingup made those eyes which he claimed were dead, shine evenmore. These things happen, it will pass you'll see, sometimesit's nerves, said a woman. The lights had already changedagain, some inquisitive passersby had gathered around thegroup, and the drivers further back who did not know whatwas going on, protested at what they thought was some commonaccident, a smashed headlight, a dented fender, nothing tojustify this upheaval, Call the police, they shouted and get thatold wreck out of the way. The blind man pleaded, Please, willsomeone take me home. The woman who had suggested acase of nerves was of the opinion that an ambulance should besummoned to transport the poor man to the hospital, but theblind man refused to hear of it, quite unnecessary; all he wantedwas that someone might accompany him to the entrance ofthe building where he lived. It's close by and you could do meno greater favour.

And what about the car, asked someone. Anothervoice replied, The key is in the ignition, drive the car on tothe pavement. No need, intervened a third voice, I'll take chargeof the car and accompany this man home. There were murmursof approval. The blind man felt himself being taken by thearm, Come, come with me, the same voice was saying to him.They eased him into the front passenger seat, and secured thesafety belt.

I can't see, I can't see, he murmured, still weeping.Tell me where you live, the man asked him. Through the carwindows voracious faces spied, avid for some news. The blindman raised his hands to his eyes and gestured, Nothing, it's as ifI were caught in a mist or had fallen into a milky sea.

But blindnessisn't like that, said the other fellow, they say that blindnessis black, Well I see everything white, That little woman wasprobably right, it could be a matter of nerves, nerves are thevery devil, No need to talk to me about it, it's a disaster, yes adisaster, Tell me where you live please, and at the same time theengine started up. Faltering, as if his lack of sight had weakenedhis memory, the blind man gave his address, then he said, I haveno words to thank you, and the other replied, Now then, don'tgive it another thought, today it's your turn, tomorrow it will bemine, we never know what might lie in store for us, You'reright, who would have thought, when I left the house thismorning, that something as dreadful as this was about to happen.He was puzzled that they should still be at a standstill, Whyaren't we moving, he asked, The light is on red, replied theother. From now on he would no longer know when the lightwas red. [Chapter One Continues.] Continues.