Saramago

Death with Interruptions by José Saramago

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After much contemplation, I’ve decided that the first two-thirds of this book reads as an experiment conducted by death—with a lowercase d. One day, death simply stops taking anyone, and for a brief moment the world is filled with wonder. But that wonder quickly dissolves, leaving behind a cascade of problems that are, when all is said and done, worse than death itself.

There are the obvious consequences: funeral directors, casket makers, assisted-living facilities—entire industries either collapsing or buckling under the strain. But the true dilemma is far more human. People are not meant to exist in this strange limbo between living and dying. Yes, suffering is an inevitable part of life; it always has been. But to suffer endlessly—to require care forever, to force loved ones to grieve without end—is something else entirely. This is not how things are meant to be. The lesson seems clear: eternal life has always been a beautiful idea, but it should remain just that—an idea.

The final third of the novel is perhaps the loveliest. Death falls in love with a cellist. It is absurd, and yet written with such vulnerability, curiosity, and originality that it transformed this book from a three-star read into a four-star one for me.

I won’t say more.

I’m glad I read it. It is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered, and it leaves me wondering whether Saramago’s other books are equally inventive in both thought and style.

Blindness is next.