Saramago Excerpt...
Excerpt from page 232 of The History of The Siege of Lisbon.
Raimundo Silva ran his hand over his forehead for a second, then said, I used to dye my hair but no longer, white roots are not a pretty sight, forgive me, in time my hair will get back to its natural color, Mine has stopped being natural, because of you I went to the hairdresser today to have these venerable white hairs tinted, They were so few I wouldn't have thought it worth the bother, So you did notice, I looked at you closely enough, just as you must have looked at me and asked yourself how a man of my age could be without white hairs, No such questions entered my mind, it was obvious that you dyed your hair, who did you think you were deceiving, Probably only myself, Just as I've decided to start deceiving myself, It comes to the same thing, What do you mean by the same thing, Your reason for dyeing your hair, mine for no longer dyeing it, Explain yourself, I stopped dyeing my hair in order to be as I am, And what about me, why have I tinted my hair, To go on being as you are, Smart thinking, I can see that I'll have to practice mental gymnastics daily in order to keep up with you, I'm no more intelligent than you are, simply older. Maria Sara smiled quietly, Irremovable evidence that clearly worries you, Not really, our age only matters in relation to that of others, I suspect I'm young in the eyes of someone who is seventy, but I'm in no doubt that a youth of twenty would consider me an old man. And in relation to me, how do you see yourself, Now that you've tinted the few white hairs that you possess and I'm allowing all of mine to show, I've become a man of seventy in the presence of a girl of twenty, You can't count, there is only a difference of fifteen years between us, Then I must be thirty-five, They both laughed and Maria Sara suggested, Let’s come to an agreement, What agreement, That we say no more about people’s ages, I’ll try not to bring up the subject again...
Same text as above, with annotations.
Raimundo Silva ran his hand over his forehead for a second, then said, [Note: no quotation marks for speech →] I used to dye my hair but no longer, white roots are not a pretty sight, forgive me, in time my hair will get back to its natural color, [Note: new speaker, Maria →] Mine has stopped being natural, because of you I went to the hairdresser today to have these venerable white hairs tinted, [Raimundo →] They were so few I wouldn't have thought it worth the bother, [Maria →] So you did notice, [Raimundo →] I looked at you closely enough, just as you must have looked at me and asked yourself how a man of my age could be without white hairs, [Maria →] No such questions entered my mind, it was obvious that you dyed your hair, who did you think you were deceiving, [Raimundo →] Probably only myself, [Maria →] Just as I've decided to start deceiving myself, [Raimundo →] It comes to the same thing, [Maria →] What do you mean by the same thing, [Raimundo →] Your reason for dyeing your hair, mine for no longer dyeing it, [Maria →] Explain yourself, [Raimundo →] I stopped dyeing my hair in order to be as I am, [Maria →] And what about me, why have I tinted my hair, [Raimundo →] To go on being as you are, [Maria →] Smart thinking, I can see that I'll have to practice mental gymnastics daily in order to keep up with you, [Raimundo →] I'm no more intelligent than you are, simply older. [← Wow, the first full stop in a long while. But notice, no new paragraph!] Maria Sara smiled quietly, [Maria →] Irremovable evidence that clearly worries you, [Raimundo →] Not really, our age only matters in relation to that of others, I suspect I'm young in the eyes of someone who is seventy, but I'm in no doubt that a youth of twenty would consider me an old man. [Maria →] And in relation to me, how do you see yourself, [Raimundo →] Now that you've tinted the few white hairs that you possess and I'm allowing all of mine to show, I've become a man of seventy in the presence of a girl of twenty, [Maria →] You can't count, there is only a difference of fifteen years between us, [Raimundo →] Then I must be thirty-five, [Narrator jumps in →] They both laughed and Maria Sara suggested, Let’s come to an agreement, [Raimundo →] What agreement, [Maria →] That we say no more about people’s ages, [Raimundo →] I’ll try not to bring up the subject again...
Note: The above discourse goes on in the same comma-laden SENTENCE for nearly the entirety of the next page. [page 233].
Not to mention that the same paragraph wherein this excerpt was extracted was already into its third page of existence!
This is the wonderful world of Saramago.
What may seem awkward at first, becomes seamless with time.
As you read him, you get to anticipate the flow of thought and shifts in dialogue. And this lends itself to an overall experience unlike the reading of any other author. You begin to tumble headlong and feel an exhilarating sense of actual participation with the text.
You will never be more IN THE MIND of an author than when you are reading Saramago.
Sincerely,
Cipriano
[Note: My very blog-alias, Cipriano, I have shamelessly stolen from the identity of the principal character in Saramago’s novel, The Cave.
Not to mention that the above passage in The Siege also inspired the basic gist of My Recent Poem... basically, I do all my best plagiarizing from things Saramagian!]
Raimundo Silva ran his hand over his forehead for a second, then said, I used to dye my hair but no longer, white roots are not a pretty sight, forgive me, in time my hair will get back to its natural color, Mine has stopped being natural, because of you I went to the hairdresser today to have these venerable white hairs tinted, They were so few I wouldn't have thought it worth the bother, So you did notice, I looked at you closely enough, just as you must have looked at me and asked yourself how a man of my age could be without white hairs, No such questions entered my mind, it was obvious that you dyed your hair, who did you think you were deceiving, Probably only myself, Just as I've decided to start deceiving myself, It comes to the same thing, What do you mean by the same thing, Your reason for dyeing your hair, mine for no longer dyeing it, Explain yourself, I stopped dyeing my hair in order to be as I am, And what about me, why have I tinted my hair, To go on being as you are, Smart thinking, I can see that I'll have to practice mental gymnastics daily in order to keep up with you, I'm no more intelligent than you are, simply older. Maria Sara smiled quietly, Irremovable evidence that clearly worries you, Not really, our age only matters in relation to that of others, I suspect I'm young in the eyes of someone who is seventy, but I'm in no doubt that a youth of twenty would consider me an old man. And in relation to me, how do you see yourself, Now that you've tinted the few white hairs that you possess and I'm allowing all of mine to show, I've become a man of seventy in the presence of a girl of twenty, You can't count, there is only a difference of fifteen years between us, Then I must be thirty-five, They both laughed and Maria Sara suggested, Let’s come to an agreement, What agreement, That we say no more about people’s ages, I’ll try not to bring up the subject again...
Same text as above, with annotations.
Raimundo Silva ran his hand over his forehead for a second, then said, [Note: no quotation marks for speech →] I used to dye my hair but no longer, white roots are not a pretty sight, forgive me, in time my hair will get back to its natural color, [Note: new speaker, Maria →] Mine has stopped being natural, because of you I went to the hairdresser today to have these venerable white hairs tinted, [Raimundo →] They were so few I wouldn't have thought it worth the bother, [Maria →] So you did notice, [Raimundo →] I looked at you closely enough, just as you must have looked at me and asked yourself how a man of my age could be without white hairs, [Maria →] No such questions entered my mind, it was obvious that you dyed your hair, who did you think you were deceiving, [Raimundo →] Probably only myself, [Maria →] Just as I've decided to start deceiving myself, [Raimundo →] It comes to the same thing, [Maria →] What do you mean by the same thing, [Raimundo →] Your reason for dyeing your hair, mine for no longer dyeing it, [Maria →] Explain yourself, [Raimundo →] I stopped dyeing my hair in order to be as I am, [Maria →] And what about me, why have I tinted my hair, [Raimundo →] To go on being as you are, [Maria →] Smart thinking, I can see that I'll have to practice mental gymnastics daily in order to keep up with you, [Raimundo →] I'm no more intelligent than you are, simply older. [← Wow, the first full stop in a long while. But notice, no new paragraph!] Maria Sara smiled quietly, [Maria →] Irremovable evidence that clearly worries you, [Raimundo →] Not really, our age only matters in relation to that of others, I suspect I'm young in the eyes of someone who is seventy, but I'm in no doubt that a youth of twenty would consider me an old man. [Maria →] And in relation to me, how do you see yourself, [Raimundo →] Now that you've tinted the few white hairs that you possess and I'm allowing all of mine to show, I've become a man of seventy in the presence of a girl of twenty, [Maria →] You can't count, there is only a difference of fifteen years between us, [Raimundo →] Then I must be thirty-five, [Narrator jumps in →] They both laughed and Maria Sara suggested, Let’s come to an agreement, [Raimundo →] What agreement, [Maria →] That we say no more about people’s ages, [Raimundo →] I’ll try not to bring up the subject again...
Note: The above discourse goes on in the same comma-laden SENTENCE for nearly the entirety of the next page. [page 233].
Not to mention that the same paragraph wherein this excerpt was extracted was already into its third page of existence!
This is the wonderful world of Saramago.
What may seem awkward at first, becomes seamless with time.
As you read him, you get to anticipate the flow of thought and shifts in dialogue. And this lends itself to an overall experience unlike the reading of any other author. You begin to tumble headlong and feel an exhilarating sense of actual participation with the text.
You will never be more IN THE MIND of an author than when you are reading Saramago.
Sincerely,
Cipriano
[Note: My very blog-alias, Cipriano, I have shamelessly stolen from the identity of the principal character in Saramago’s novel, The Cave.
Not to mention that the above passage in The Siege also inspired the basic gist of My Recent Poem... basically, I do all my best plagiarizing from things Saramagian!]
posted by Cipriano | 8:18 PM
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