It is an 18th-century love story intertwined with the construction of the Convent of Mafra , now one of Portugal's chief tourist attractions, as a background. The lovers are always at center stage wrapped in Saramago's language, which ranges from short simple sentences to surrealistic, unpunctuated paragraphs that help to intensify both the action and the setting. The book served as the basis for the opera Blimunda , composed by Azio Corghi. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
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The sail veered to one side, allowing the sun to shine directly on the amber balls, and now what will happen to us. The machine shuddered, then swayed as if trying to regain its balance, there was a loud creaking from the metal plates and the entwined canes, and suddenly, as if it were being sucked in by a luminous vortex, it went up making two complete turns, and no sooner had it risen above the walls of the coach-house than it recovered its balance, raised its head like a seagull, and soared like an arrow straight up into the sky.
They were not afraid, they were simply astounded at their own daring. The priest laughed and shouted. The priest came up to them and joined in their embrace, suddenly perturbed by the analogy the Italian had drawn when he had suggested that the priest himself was God, Baltasar his son, and Blimunda the holy ghost, and now all three of them were up there in the skies together, There is only one God, he shouted, but the wind snatched the words from his mouth. Then Blimunda said, Unless we open the sail, we shall go on climbing, and we might even collide with the sun.
We never ask ourselves whether there might not be some wisdom in madness, even while recognising that we are all a little mad. The machine has stopped climbing and hovers in the sky, its wings extended, its beak pointing northward, and it has every appearance of being motionless.
The priest opens the sail a little more, three-quarters of the amber balls are already covered in shadow, and the machine starts to descend gently, it is like sailing across a tranquil lake in a small boat, a tiny adjustment to the rudder, a stroke with one oar, those little touches that only mankind is capable of inventing. The musician above has disappeared from sight, already he is beating a hasty retreat along narrow lanes away from the main road, perhaps if he were to raise his eyes he would see the Passarola once more, he waves with his hat, just once, better to dissemble and pretend that he knows nothing, this explains why they did not spot him from the airship, and who knows if they will ever meet him again.
There is a southerly wind, a breeze that scarcely ruffles Blimunda's hair, with this wind they will not be going anywhere, it would be like trying to swim across the ocean, so Baltasar asks, Shall I use the bellows, every coin has two sides, first the priest proclaimed, There is only one God, now Baltasar wants to know, Shall I use the bellows, from the sublime to the ridiculous, when God refuses to blow, man has to make an effort.
Original title: Memorial do Convento. This website is using cookies. Agree Read more. Visegrad Literature. Magyarul Babelben.
Memorial do Convento Portuguese A gora, sim, podem partir. Baltasar and Blimunda English N ow they are ready to leave. Pontiero, Giovanni. Nobel laureates. Author's main page. Work's page. Terms and conditions. Data policy. Source of the quotation.
Saramago, José: Baltasar and Blimunda (Memorial do Convento in English)
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Baltasar and Blimunda
Memorial do Convento