Death with Interruptions, published in Britain as Death at Intervals (Portuguese: As Intermitências da Morte), is a novel written by the Nobel Laureate, José Saramago. Death with Interruptions was published in 2005 in its original Portuguese, and the novel was translated into English by Margaret Jull Costa in 2008. The novel focuses on death, as both a phenomenon and as an anthropomorphized character. A key of the book is how society relates to death in both of these forms, and likewise, how death relates to the people she is meant to kill.
Review of 'Le intermittenze della morte' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
Bella lettura, la storia è quella tragicomica di un paese (nel senso di nazione) che si trova di punto in bianco a gestire la situazione straordinaria per cui nessuno muore più. Ci si accorge così di come il nostro sistema sociale ed economico, nonché religioso, sia basato sul fatto imprescindibile secondo cui si muore! La storia poi si sviluppa in un suo percorso. Il testo è interessante anche dal punto di vista stilistico: Saramago scrive i dialoghi come un flusso unico a scarso utilizzo di punteggiatura; anche i periodi non dialogici sono generalmente lunghi e intesi come un quasi flusso di coscienza.
Review of 'Death with interruptions' on 'Goodreads'
2 stars
When I read John Updike's quote on the book jacket ("Our impression is of a writer, like Faulkner, so confident of his resources and ultimate destination that he can bring any impossibility to life by hurling words at it."), I thought, well, that's not very nice. Snarky, even. Having read the book, I can see where Updike was coming from (though the comparison with Faulkner isn't apt, except as to punctuation + sentence length.) The "hurling of words" feeling comes from the first half of the book being a told story. No scenes. Just the author telling us what happens in this particular country when people stop dying. It's funny; it's smart; it's imaginative. It becomes boring. I kept flipping forward to see if he was ever going to dip down into scene, characters, an intimate story (he teases us with one example and leaves the impression that, yes, he …
When I read John Updike's quote on the book jacket ("Our impression is of a writer, like Faulkner, so confident of his resources and ultimate destination that he can bring any impossibility to life by hurling words at it."), I thought, well, that's not very nice. Snarky, even. Having read the book, I can see where Updike was coming from (though the comparison with Faulkner isn't apt, except as to punctuation + sentence length.) The "hurling of words" feeling comes from the first half of the book being a told story. No scenes. Just the author telling us what happens in this particular country when people stop dying. It's funny; it's smart; it's imaginative. It becomes boring. I kept flipping forward to see if he was ever going to dip down into scene, characters, an intimate story (he teases us with one example and leaves the impression that, yes, he is going to use these folks to show the human toll of this scenario, but he doesn't.) When it did segue to characters, I was not impressed with the beautiful-death-falls-for middle-aged cellist plot line. TBH, my favorite character in the novel was the scythe. And the true conversion might have happened when the dog jumped in her lap... I am, however, grateful for the other reviews of this book because I will go read Blindness or The Gospel According to Jesus Christ where it appears Saramago's talents were put to better use.
