Heteronym
New Member
Baltasar and Blimunda is the novel that brought Saramago international renown, and ever since he won the Nobel, it's been cumpolsory reading for 12th grade students 
I barely escaped having to read it, and I'm thankful for that, for I would have probably hated it when I was 17.
Four years, one university course and nine Saramago novels later, I think I can say this isn't one of his most interesting novels.
The English title, by the way, is a clever attempt at misdirecting the reader from novel's true essence; 'Baltasar and Blimunda' relates to a married couple's life (and, as they would like to have you believe, a beautiful romance) which constitutes a tiny part of a large novel where other stories intersect, namely: a priest who tries to build a flying machine, and a king who gives orders to erect a massive convent. The priest and king being unknown to non-Portuguese readers (both men existed, by the way), and love being a Human Universal according to Donald Brown, a novel about a building is somehow turned into a love story. This causes some problems for people who start the novel thinking they're going to read another Tracy Chevalier novel. Several reviews in Amazon correctly say it could do with more romance.
The original title would be something like 'Convent Memorial', the convent being the Convent of Mafra, today a famous Portuguese tourist attraction; I myself have never seen it, so don't expect architectural details (but Saramago makes it look like some really massive stuff!). Its genesis is indeed worthy of a book, the type of story you could only get back when kings ruled like real kings, capable of having all their crazy wishes granted. The king in question is D. João V, the wish was to erect a large convent if his wife Queen Mary Anne of Austria bore him an heir, (patience in the realm was growing thin, it seems the poor woman wasn't very good at being fertile). But bear an heir is what she did shortly after this promise The book truly is a 'memorial' to the convent, as it narrates its construction, starting in 1717, through several decades, making the convent a spirit that pervades the entire novel.
As if this weren't a great story already (and it's not), Saramago includes the story of a mad priest who dreamt building a flying machine. Now this could be a great story, if only it had more prominence in the novel. The mad priest, Bartolomeu de Gusmão, by the way, also existed. Only Baltasar and Blimunda didn't. Blimunda is considered one of Saramago's greatest characters, Salman Rushdie even admitted to having borrowed the name for his Indo-Portuguese character in The Ground Beneath her Feet. I myself am not impressed. She's absent most of the novel, and when she's the focus she seldom does much besides spouting some homely philosophies. At one time B & B help Father Bartolomeu building his machine; later on their subplot ties in with the covent's construction when Baltasar gets a job there. And then there's the ending, which is emotional, and I feel sorry for the characters, but it hardly redeems the many lifeless parts of the novel.
Otherwise the novel is typical Saramago: the beautiful prose, the acute observations about ordinary life, the proverbs, the funny asides, the clever wordplay. There are some interesting moments when Saramago sees the construction of the convent from the workmen's point of view (you did know he was a communist, didn't you?), bringing a personal side to what is basically a history lesson. Also, Saramago is very critical of the 18th century Portuguese monarchy. You may not know, but Portugal was once one of the world's richest empires. With colonies in Brazil, Africa and Asia, there was gold, silver, diamonds and other riches coming to Portugal from everywhere (up until the '70s, Portugal had one of the world's biggest gold reserves, all thanks to the dictator and certified Economy teacher Oliveira Salazar). And most of it was squandered in crap like the Convent of Mafra, letting the Holy Church prosper while the rabble lived in utter squallor. Saramago captures in detail the the misery of being poor in the 18th century, for all of you who only know it from reading Tom Jones
Summing up: indispensable for the Saramago fans like me. But he has written more interesting stuff: The Cave, Blindness, Seeing, for instance.
I barely escaped having to read it, and I'm thankful for that, for I would have probably hated it when I was 17.Four years, one university course and nine Saramago novels later, I think I can say this isn't one of his most interesting novels.
The English title, by the way, is a clever attempt at misdirecting the reader from novel's true essence; 'Baltasar and Blimunda' relates to a married couple's life (and, as they would like to have you believe, a beautiful romance) which constitutes a tiny part of a large novel where other stories intersect, namely: a priest who tries to build a flying machine, and a king who gives orders to erect a massive convent. The priest and king being unknown to non-Portuguese readers (both men existed, by the way), and love being a Human Universal according to Donald Brown, a novel about a building is somehow turned into a love story. This causes some problems for people who start the novel thinking they're going to read another Tracy Chevalier novel. Several reviews in Amazon correctly say it could do with more romance.
The original title would be something like 'Convent Memorial', the convent being the Convent of Mafra, today a famous Portuguese tourist attraction; I myself have never seen it, so don't expect architectural details (but Saramago makes it look like some really massive stuff!). Its genesis is indeed worthy of a book, the type of story you could only get back when kings ruled like real kings, capable of having all their crazy wishes granted. The king in question is D. João V, the wish was to erect a large convent if his wife Queen Mary Anne of Austria bore him an heir, (patience in the realm was growing thin, it seems the poor woman wasn't very good at being fertile). But bear an heir is what she did shortly after this promise
The book truly is a 'memorial' to the convent, as it narrates its construction, starting in 1717, through several decades, making the convent a spirit that pervades the entire novel.As if this weren't a great story already (and it's not), Saramago includes the story of a mad priest who dreamt building a flying machine. Now this could be a great story, if only it had more prominence in the novel. The mad priest, Bartolomeu de Gusmão, by the way, also existed. Only Baltasar and Blimunda didn't. Blimunda is considered one of Saramago's greatest characters, Salman Rushdie even admitted to having borrowed the name for his Indo-Portuguese character in The Ground Beneath her Feet. I myself am not impressed. She's absent most of the novel, and when she's the focus she seldom does much besides spouting some homely philosophies. At one time B & B help Father Bartolomeu building his machine; later on their subplot ties in with the covent's construction when Baltasar gets a job there. And then there's the ending, which is emotional, and I feel sorry for the characters, but it hardly redeems the many lifeless parts of the novel.
Otherwise the novel is typical Saramago: the beautiful prose, the acute observations about ordinary life, the proverbs, the funny asides, the clever wordplay. There are some interesting moments when Saramago sees the construction of the convent from the workmen's point of view (you did know he was a communist, didn't you?), bringing a personal side to what is basically a history lesson. Also, Saramago is very critical of the 18th century Portuguese monarchy. You may not know, but Portugal was once one of the world's richest empires. With colonies in Brazil, Africa and Asia, there was gold, silver, diamonds and other riches coming to Portugal from everywhere (up until the '70s, Portugal had one of the world's biggest gold reserves, all thanks to the dictator and certified Economy teacher Oliveira Salazar). And most of it was squandered in crap like the Convent of Mafra, letting the Holy Church prosper while the rabble lived in utter squallor. Saramago captures in detail the the misery of being poor in the 18th century, for all of you who only know it from reading Tom Jones
Summing up: indispensable for the Saramago fans like me. But he has written more interesting stuff: The Cave, Blindness, Seeing, for instance.
