Fictional biography of Fernando Pessoa, and his relationship with his personified "heteronym", Ricardo Ries; and Ries' own relationships with Marcenda (the girl with the limp left arm) and Lydia (the maid). The book (like Raised From the Ground) has a lot of Portuguese history enriching the text throughout, using contemporary events and newspaper articles. A surreal and fascinating read. Here are some of the contents I have highlighted from the novel:
The quote, "The Redcoats have reached the straights".
Portuguese New Year tradition of throwing rubbish from upstairs windows.
Letter sent poste restante.
Adamastor, a personification of the Cape of Good Hope, symbolizing the dangers of the sea and the formidable forces of nature challenged and ultimately overcome by the Portuguese during the Age of Discovery.
Newspaper articles of the time; Spanish leading up to a civil war, Nazi Germany flying their zeppelin over Portugal, death of King George, new king Edward; Italians in Africa.
Pilgrimage to Fatima, planes dropping leaflets advertising Bovril.
Robert Donat and Madeleine Carroll in the Thirty Nine Steps.
Portugal having a mock air raid in preparation for World War Two.
Adamastor waiting for Doris to arrive while Thetis sings.
Statue of Luis De Cameos.
Earth quake.
Impressed with the German youth movement, the Portuguese considering their own with SS ("Serve Salazar") on their belts.
Air plane crash, death of General Sanjurjo en route to Spain. General Francisco Franco declaration to desire order, the Spanish army task of Redemption, Moroccan soldiers arriving, a governing junta set up in Burgos, rumours of a confrontation in Madrid between the army and the forces. Population of Badajoz taking arms resisting the military advance.
"Tragic Sense of Life" by Miguel de Unamuno. ( )

I really struggled with this one. There isn't much plot: Ricardo Reis is basically depressed, largely giving up on life in his last year. His downward spiral was hard to read about. We know almost nothing about his past life, his younger years in Portugal or his later years in Brazil. His intellectual and philosophical interactions with the ghost of the recently deceased renowned Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa are highlights.

Interestingly, I did really warm up to Saramago's style of writing, which includes long paragraphs--sometimes relevant, sometimes digressions--flashes into the imagination that might seem like they are real events in the moment, and paragraphs of dialog unbroken by line breaks or identifying tags. As with Hemingway, it can be easy to lose track of who is speaking until a name or a subject startles you into the realization that you may have misattributed some thoughts--though that only happened a few times in the conversations between Reis and Pessoa. When Reis really has no intellectual or conversational equal, not even in the most exciting portion of the book when he's called in for interrogation by the police--it's rarely difficult to tell his dialog apart from that of the hotel manager, or his mistress Lydia the hotel maid, or sort-of-love the far-too-young and Marcenda.

Reis and Pessoa, who knew each other in Portugal in the past, are both poets--the former on the side of his doctoring career, the latter full-time. I wish that this edition had an forward or afterword explaining a few things for clueless English-language readers; it was sheer, lucky accident that I happened to pick up a book of poetry in Portugal, flip to the section of Pessoa's works, and find that "Ricardo Reis" is actually one of the many pseudonyms under which he wrote. Unlike most authors who use pen names, Pessoa gave Reis and each of his pseudonyms distinct personalities to reflect the different styles of writing used by each--according to ye olde Wikipedia, he called them "heteronyms". I'm not sure how much of Reis' personality was fleshed out by Pessoa and how much invented by Saramago. I can only assume that the snippets of Reis' poems that appear throughout the book are indeed from poems written under Pessoa's Reis heteronym.

I'm glad I finished the book, even if the story really wasn't to my taste. There's plenty of 1930s history on the edges, with wealthy refugees from Spain and direct talk of Franco's takeover, rumblings of discontent with Salazar's regime in the Portuguese navy, gobs of pro-fascist propaganda and events, and at the same time ongoing cultural events such as New Years celebrations and religious services in Fatima. There's just also a lot of very, very dull downtime with a shallow character whose depths seem to consist of the nothingness and indifference that I sometimes grapple with myself. ( )

Allá por 1935, el barco inglés Highland Brigade atraca en el puerto de una Lisboa atlántica y lluviosa. Es la época de las plumas estilográficas, de las radios Pilot, de las Juventudes Hitlerianas, de los topolinos. Ha sido en ese mismo año cuando ha muerto el escritor Fernando Pessoa, nombre que sirve de paraguas a diversos heterónimos, entre ellos el de Ricardo Reis, que ha viajado desde Brasil. A lo largo de nueve meses cruciales en la historia de Europa, durante los que estalla la guerra de España y se produce la intervención italiana en Abisinia, asistiremos a la última etapa de la vida de Ricardo Reis, en diálogo con el espíritu de Fernando Pessoa que acude a visitarle desde el cementerio en los momentos más inesperados.

A fines de 1935, cuando acaba de fallecer Fernando Pessoa, llega al puerto de Lisboa un barco inglés, Highland Brigade, en el que ha viajado, desde Brasil, Ricardo Reis, uno de los heterónimos del gran poeta portugués. A lo largo de nueve meses cruciales en la historia de Europa, durante los que estalla la guerra de España y se produce la intervención italiana en Abisinia, asistiremos a la última etapa de la vida de Ricardo Reis, en diálogo con el espíritu de Fernando Pessoa que acude a visitarle desde el cementerio en los momentos más inesperados. Es la época de las plumas estilográficas, de las radios Pilot, de las Juventudes Hitlerianas, de los topolinos, en una Lisboa atlántica y lluviosa cuya atmósfera envolvente se convierte en el verdadero protagonista de esta fascinante experiencia narrativa. El año de la muerte de Ricardo Reis es una lúcida meditación, a través de un poeta y una ciudad, sobre el sentido de toda una época. ( )

This book blends magical realism, historical fiction, and literary fiction. The title character, Ricardo Reis, a doctor and poet, returns to Lisbon, Portugal, after living in Brazil for sixteen years. He stays at a hotel, encounters two women, is questioned by local authorities, and is visited by the spirit of recently deceased poet Fernando Pessoa, an historic figure. The year is 1935 to 1936, and the backdrop is the rise of the fascist movement in Europe.

This is a philosophical novel, filled with musings on life, love, art, literature, politics, religion, history, and death. It is character driven and the plot is sparse. The protagonist seems to be sleep-walking through life, withdrawing into his personal world, avoiding reality. He strikes up a relationship with a woman he considers beneath his station and longs for a much-younger woman for whom he writes poetry. He appears oblivious to the political situation taking place around him, though he reads the papers and recounts the headlines of the day.

Saramago is a keen observer of human nature. He inserts his wit and clever observations about life. He speaks directly to the reader, at points even referencing the reading process and preferences:
“A chambermaid appeared, but it wasn’t Lydia. Ah, Carlota, light a heater and put it in the lounge. Whether such details are indispensable or not for a clear understanding of this narrative is something each of us must judge for himself, and the judgment will vary according to our attention, mood, and temperament. There are those who value broad ideas above all, who prefer panoramas and historical frescoes, whereas others appreciate the affinities and contrasts between small brush strokes.”

Saramago’s style is not for everyone. He employs long paragraphs, stretching over many pages. Dialogue is embedded within these paragraphs. For me, this type structure is hard on the eyes, as it provides no natural stopping places for reflection (and this book requires lots of reflection). I have to say though, I found it kept my interest and I learned quite a bit about Portuguese history and literature.

Memorable quotes:

“Clearly man is trapped in his own labyrinth.”

“One reaches a point where there is nothing but hope, and that is when we discover that hope is everything.”

“Man, in the final analysis, is an irrational creature.”

“There is nothing more pointless in this world than regret.”

“One cannot resist time, we are within it and accompany it, nothing more.”

“Poets often begin at the horizon, for that is the shortest path to the heart.” ( )