In a typically Saramagoan unnamed country filled with unnamed protaganists, a typically Saramagoan event takes place: or rather, it doesn’t. Death takes a break, leaving the dying hovering on the edge of extinction and forcing the state to deal with an unprecedented emergency – what to do in a country where people refuse to die. Saramago is in his element here, lyrically and wittily analysing the outcome of the events he has set in train, inserting his own voice into the narrative to remind us teasingly that this is fiction, and doggedly pursuing the effect of death’s absence on funeral parlours, insurance companies and old people’s homes.
Then Saramago narrows the focus and takes a sudden turn into Terry Pratchett country, bringing Death (the character) into the picture, and delivering us into the bony and unexpected arms of a love story. After the robust humour of the opening passages, the intimacy of the second half lends fragility to this slight tome, wrongfooting the reader but also giving the impression that Saramago, always at the mercy of his narrative despite his interventions, hasn’t entirely anticipated where he will end up. The result is one of his lesser works, but it’s still impeccably delivered, provocative and entertaining.
