Terminado em 1953 e inédito até depois da morte do autor, Claraboia narra com aguda percepção psicológica o dia a dia e as angústias dos moradores de um modesto prédio de apartamentos em Lisboa, e revela um Saramago em pleno domínio da narrativa.

Primavera de 1952. Um prédio de seis apartamentos numa rua modesta de Lisboa é o cenário principal das histórias simultâneas que compõem este romance da juventude de José Saramago. Os dramas cotidianos dos moradores - donas de casa, funcionários remediados, trabalhadores manuais - tecem uma trama multifacetada, repleta de elementos do consagrado estilo da maturidade do escritor, em especial a maestria dos diálogos e o poder de observação psicológica.
As janelas, paredes e corredores do velho edifício lisboeta são testemunhas privilegiadas das pequenas tragédias e comédias representadas pelos personagens. As peripécias de Lídia, uma bela mulher sustentada pelo amante misterioso, e Abel, um jovem outsider à procura de um sentido para a vida, se contrapõem ao árduo cotidiano dos outros moradores. As narrativas paralelas do livro são organizadas segundo as divisões internas do prédio, do térreo ao segundo andar.

No início da década de 1950, José Saramago já não era um nome totalmente desconhecido na cena literária portuguesa. Aos trinta anos, o futuro vencedor do prêmio Nobel publicara um romance - Terra do pecado (1947) -, e alguns de seus contos haviam saído em jornais e revistas de Lisboa, às vezes assinados com o pseudônimo “Honorato”. Saramago, ex-serralheiro mecânico e então um modesto funcionário da previdência social, também possuía diversos poemas e peças de teatro entre seus inéditos. Até 1953, o escritor iniciaria a redação de mais quatro romances, que ficaram inacabados. Em 5 de janeiro daquele ano “Honorato” finalizava o datiloscrito de um livro de mais de trezentas páginas. O novo romance, em seguida encaminhado para publicação a uma editora lisboeta por intermédio de um amigo jornalista, acabaria esquecido no fundo de uma gaveta. O original nunca foi devolvido ao seu autor, que também não recebera resposta alguma. Na década de 1980, o já consagrado José Saramago era contactado pela mesma editora para publicar Claraboia. A mágoa pela falta de resposta na juventude levou-o a declarar que não desejaria ver o romance editado em vida, deixando para seus herdeiros a decisão sobre o que fazer com o livro. Após seu desaparecimento, as inquestionáveis qualidades do romance, construído com perfeito domínio do espaço narrativo, justificam plenamente a opção de trazê-lo a público.

A caligrafia da capa é de autoria da atriz e escritora Fernanda Torres.

Amanece en Lisboa. En una mañana de mediados del siglo XX, la mirada del novelista se asoma a la ventana de un vecindario. Se anuncia un día no muy diferente de los demás: el zapatero Silvestre, que abre su taller; Adriana, que parte hacia el trabajo mientras en su casa tres mujeres inician otra jornada de costura; Justina, que tiene ante sí un largo día jalonado por las disputas con su brutal marido; la mantenida Lidia; y la española Carmen, sumida en nostalgias...

Discretamente, la mirada del novelista va descendiendo y, de repente, deja de ser simple testigo para ver con los ojos de cada uno de los personajes. Capítulo a capítulo, salta de casa en casa, de personaje en personaje, abriéndonos un mundo gobernado por la necesidad, las grandes frustraciones, las pequeñas ilusiones, la nostalgia de tiempos que ni siquiera fueron mejores. Todo cubierto por el silencio tedioso de la dictadura, la música de Beethoven y una pregunta de Pessoa: "Deberemos ser todos casados, fútiles, tributables?".

von Harry zum Geburtstag 2015, teilw. Gelesen, �ff. Bücherregal

Best for:
Fans of books that look at many different characters(as opposed to just one or two protagonists).

In a nutshell:
In late-1940s Lisbon, six apartments contain a variety of tenants searching for something more in their lives — or searching for ways to keep their lives the same.

Worth quoting:
“She knew men too well to love any of them.”
“I have never lied so much in my life and I hadn’t realised how many people are prepared to believe lies.”
“His brain attached itself to all kinds of things, went over and over the same problems, plunged into them, drowned in them, so that, in the end, his own thoughts became the problem.”

Why I chose it:
My favorite book is Blindness, which José Saramago published in 1995. A friend bought it for me (having never read it himself) and it turned into the book I gave friends if I stayed with them. Maybe an odd choice, but whatever. I think it’s a fantastic book. I read the sequel and wasn’t as into it, but still, Saramago can write. Last year we went to Lisbon for our anniversary and visited Casa dos Bicos, which is home to the Saramago foundation. I saw his Nobel Prize for literature. It was amazing. They also had a bookshop, and this book stood out to me because it was one of his first books but was only published after his death.

Review:
CN: Brief discussion of marital assault

Early in his career, Saramago sent the manuscript for Skylight to a publisher. Early, as in, he sent it in 1953. The publisher didn’t get back to him. In 1989, someone at the publishing house found it and asked if they could publish it. Saramago said no. In fact, he said it couldn’t be published until after his death.

Although this book is set in the 1940s, it could be set in the 2010s. Obviously there are no mobile phones, and people listen to the radio or play games in the evening, but nothing about the stories feels dated or old fashioned, which is, to me, a pretty amazing sign of Saramago’s ability to write people, regardless of time or space.

That’s not to say that time and space don’t play into this. Some of the people in this book are a bit of a throwback (in my mind at least), such as the man who has a wife and daughter and prides himself on being the head of the household in a way that I consider pathetic. There is the mother, her sister, and two daughters all living together because the family has come on hard times.

The neighbors are connected in some ways, and disconnected in others. One couple takes in a lodger who stays up late discussing life with the husband. Another is a woman living alone in an apartment kept by the man who employs her as a mistress; he also employs another tenant as an office worker, which creates some drama. There is the couple whose daughter died and who cannot stand each other the the point that he sexually assaults her (in fairly brief scene that challenges the reader). There is the woman who is attracted to other women but doesn’t know what to do with those feelings.

And the women don’t exist just to further along the plots of the men. We get to hear from them, get their points of view, experience their lives. As part of the time, many of those lives are intertwined with or dependent on men, but they clearly have their own goals and dreams and perspectives. The writing of them isn’t perfect, but it’s mostly well done.

I was a bit worried to pick this one up because I love Blindness so much. What if it was a fluke? What if Saramago’s writing only spoke to me the one time? Especially as I didn’t entirely enjoy the follow-up? But not to worry - this was nearly as good as Blindness for me. Radically different in plot, but still an interesting exploration of human life.

Keep it / Pass to a Friend / Donate it / Toss it:
Keep it ( )

“There are certain words that draw back, that refuse to be uttered, because they are too laden with significance for our word-weary ears.” ~ José Saramago, Skylight

Every once in a while, you read a book that stirs your imagination long after you read the last line. Skylight by José Saramago, recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature, is one of those books. The story is not complicated; in fact, the plot is rather weak. It is, instead, a series of intricate character studies. The nuanced portrayals of ordinary people engaged in mundane tasks—such as darning socks or sewing buttonholes into a shirt—is breathtaking.

The subjects of the novel are residents of a small apartment block in Lisbon in the late 1940s. A philosophical cobbler and his wife must take in a lodger to make ends meet. A widow with her sister and two spinster daughters do their best to find beauty in hard times. A couple who lost their daughter to meningitis find they have nothing in common anymore. A desperately lonely salesman and his angry wife compete for the attentions of their young son. A retired prostitute preserves her dignity even as she loses her lover and the home he provided for her. Two overly-solicitous parents attempt to save the reputation of their beautiful daughter, only to deliver her into the hands of a sexual predator.

​Saramago is a true master of his craft, giving voice to everyday phenomenon we often take for granted: “There is no doubt that just as pets . . . reflect the temperament and character of their owners, the furniture and even the most insignificant household objects reflect something of the lives of their owners too. They give off coldness or warmth, friendliness or reserve. They are witnesses constantly recounting, in a silent language, what they have seen and what they know. The difficulty lies in finding the best, most private moment, the most propitious light, in which to hear their confession.”

But it is his poignant descriptions of quiet moments where his craftsmanship really shines. A mother dreams of her dead daughter and feels “the obsessive presence of someone behind a door that all the strength in the world could not open." A father confesses his loneliness and despair to his sleeping son, not realizing that the child is very much awake and hanging on every word. A kept woman cries when she realizes she has been replaced and will have to start over. Again. “Just two tears. That’s all life is worth.”

Although Skylight is Saramago’s first work, it was not published in Portugal until after his death in 2010. Strikingly modern, the book was written in the early 1950s. It touches on several deeply hidden aspects of human relationships, including marital rape, incest, domestic abuse, infidelity, prostitution, sexual harassment.

How, then, did it come to be published?

The answer can be found in the introduction, written by Pilar del Río, President of the José Saramago Foundation. A Spanish journalist, writer and translator, del Río was also Saramago’s wife.

Saramago submitted the manuscript for Skylight to a publisher in 1953. He received no response until thirty-six years later, when the publishing house was preparing to move offices and the lost manuscript was rediscovered. Upon its discovery in 1989, the publishing house immediately called Saramago with an offer to publish his earliest work.

Saramago refused.

He never forgave the publishing house for failing to respond to his submission. The day he received the phone call, he collected his manuscript from the publishing house and forbid it to be published during his lifetime. After his death in 2010, the foundation bearing his name arranged for the publication of this, his first novel.

Exactly why the manuscript was set aside is not clear, but it is certainly open to conjecture. In 1953, Portugal was ruled by an authoritarian dictator, the devout Catholic, António de Oliveira Salazar. Censorship was ubiquitous and any opposition to Salazar’s regime was swiftly squelched by the secret police. A portrait of ordinary working people struggling to make ends meet would not have been popular with the anti-Communist regime. Given this historical context, and the nature of Saramago’s writing, it is easy to imagine a publisher weighing the very real risks of incurring the wrath of the current regime against the negligible rewards of publishing an unknown author.

This is the first of Saramago’s books that I have read. It provides a foundation to his future work and affords an opportunity to see how the author’s style evolved over the course of his writing life. Written more than sixty years ago, the novel is still relevant today. And I can’t help but compare Portugal’s authoritarian regime of 1953 to the current administration’s authoritarian bent. It saddens me to think that Saramago’s last line still rings true today: “The day when we can build on love has still not arrived.”

★★★★

Skylight, a novel by José Saramago, translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa, published by Mariner Books, a division of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, in 2015. ( )