The READIN Family Album
Me and Sylvia at the Memorial (April 2009)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

One never stops reading, though books come to an end, just as one never stops living, even though death is a certainty.

Roberto Bolaño


(This is a page from my archives)
Front page
More recent posts
Older posts
More posts about:
An Object, Almost
Short Stories
José Saramago
Readings
Levantado del suelo

Archives index
Subscribe to RSS

This page renders best in Firefox (or Safari, or Chrome)

🦋 "I have moved inside the stone..."

I found a wonderful interview with José Saramago, published in the Spring 2002 issue of Mass Humanities. The interviewer is Anna Klobucka of U. Massachussets Dartmouth.

AK: The mainly historical novels you wrote in the 1980s, from Baltasar and Blimunda to The Gospel According to Jesus Christ (published in 1991), form the first grand narrative cycle in your work. Many of your readers perceive a clear dividing line between these narratives and your subsequent works, the three allegorical novels from the 1990s: Blindness, All the Names, and A Caverna. How do you describe the balance of continuity and change in your writing in the last two decades?

JS: The first narrative cycle you mention includes also, as a starting point, Levantado do Chão, the novel in which I articulated for the first time the distinct “narrative voice” that from then on became the hallmark of my work. And in the novels of the second cycle there are clear echoes of my earlier volume of short stories, Objecto Quase. Furthermore, we must not forget my still earlier collections of newspaper columns, Deste Mundo e do Outro [From This World and the Other] (1971) and A Bagagem do Viajante [The Traveler’s Baggage] (1973). In my view, everything I have written in later years is rooted in those texts. As for the definition of the “dividing line” that separates the two novel cycles, I explain it through the metaphor of a statue and a stone: up to and including The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, I was describing statues, insofar as a statue is the external surface of a stone; with Blindness and later novels, I have moved inside the stone, into that space where the stone does not know whether on the outside it is a statue or, for example, a doorsill.

posted morning of Tuesday, October 19th, 2010
➳ More posts about An Object, Almost
➳ More posts about Short Stories
➳ More posts about José Saramago
➳ More posts about Readings
➳ More posts about Levantado del suelo

Respond:

Name:
E-mail:
(will not be displayed)
Link:
Remember info

Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
    •
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.

What's of interest:

(Other links of interest at my Google+ page. It's recommended!)

Where to go from here...

Friends and Family
Programming
Texts
Music
Woodworking
Comix
Blogs
South Orange
readinsinglepost