Death at intervals by José Saramago

 Death is complex. If death was a person, no other could reach its level of insight. Death is unable to wait, to stop or to rush time, but we humans blame death for doing it so. In this book I saw death with different eyes. For all the times people and I have said death is an evil being, I now change my answer to Death is complex, it can’t only take us this far.

This is yet another book I read in Portuguese and although the form of the text did trip me up in the beginning as the narrative kept showing me all these new events my eyes were now stuck to the pages. The one-page long paragraphs may seem intimidating but when you read them it’s like looking at a fish going down a river, simple and quick.

The book starts with the big news of Death no longer working. People would not die, if they were by death’s door they would still not die. The ill could improve but the most crucial cases and the elderly were hanging on because Death was on strike. She didn’t want money, and she didn’t name what she wanted, she simply stopped.

One thing to point out, and that really stuck by me in this book is the audacity of the people in power. Politicians who have the power to decide what happens and what is or not allowed by the people, even if the topic is as simple as wanting to end the suffering of a person’s life. To die became a coin so valuable that it was trademarked as a reason for a new mob to be born and help the people who had elderly or ill terminated people to move to the other side. Death was working on other countries just not on this one.

It was aggravating to see normal people be ashamed for fulfilling the grandfather or great grandfathers wishes to just be laid to rest. And yet when Death showed up, instead of being grateful now they were outraged.

Death had come and now with a way to end all complains of not having a warning, she would send a letter 7 days before the deadline of a person’s life, that way everyone would have time to sort out their affairs and wills and regrets before the time ran out. Funnily how some saw that as the last 7 days to break every rule, or last seven days to live life like every single day, all different choices.

One person however managed to break through the cracks, a musician. Death tried many times to leave the letter with this man and yet it always came back to her desk. Even Death couldn’t imagine this. And when she met this man, life seemed peaceful.

Death is complex but so is love. Death fell in love with life.


 

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