Levantado do Chão

by José Saramago

A transformação social. A contestação. Personagens em diálogos. As cruentas desigualdades sociais. Surgem as perguntas proibidas. Vai-se adquirindo consciência e espaço, para que tudo se levante do chão. Um livro composto por 34 capítulos. No 17.º está a tortura e a morte de Germano Santos Vidigal. Germano, o nome que significa irmão, o homem da lança. Apesar de vencido, o sacrifício da sua vida indica o caminho. «Já o encontraram. Levam-no dois guardas, para onde quer que nos voltemos não se vê outra coisa, levam-no da praça, à saída da porta do setor seis juntam-se mais dois, e agora parece mesmo de propósito, é tudo a subir, como se estivéssemos a ver uma fita sobre a vida de Cristo, lá em cima é o calvário, estes são os centuriões de bota rija e guerreiro suor, levam as lanças engatilhadas, está um calor de sufocar, alto.»


As mulheres são também chamadas à primeira linha das decisões neste belo romance de Saramago. O diálogo monossilábico entre marido e mulher da família Mau-Tempo vai-se alterando. Interessante observar uma narrativa que vai da submissão ao sentido de libertação, através de gerações.


Diário de Notícias, 9 de outubro de 1998


Caligrafia da capa por MIA COUTO

Genres: Fiction, Portugal, Historical Fiction, Portuguese Literature, Literature, Nobel Prize, Novels

392 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1980

About the author

José de Sousa Saramago (16 November 1922 – 18 June 2010) was a Portuguese novelist and recipient of the 1998 Nobel Prize in Literature, for his "parables sustained by imagination, compassion and irony [with which he] continually enables us once again to apprehend an elusory reality." His works, some of which have been seen as allegories, commonly present subversive perspectives on historic events, emphasizing the theopoetic. In 2003 Harold Bloom described Saramago as "the most gifted novelist alive in the world today."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jos%C3%...

Reviews

[Jim Fonseca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nobel prize winner Jose Saramago goes back to his origins in rural southern Portugal to give us a historical novel about the destitute lives of peasants in the early 1900’s and their political efforts to improve their lives. Here are constantly-hungry folks living hand-to-mouth as if it were the 1500’s, not the twentieth century. Some people used feed sacks for clothes and blankets. Hungry people were punished for gathering acorns, usually pig food, from rich landowners’ forests. People worked dawn to dusk not knowing in advance what their wage would be – that was completely up to the landowner. The landowners’ thugs, backed up by the police and the military enforced the laws.



There’s a bit of a James Michener type plot as we follow one family through a few generations of struggle and political turmoil. The story begins with the rape of a peasant girl by a nobleman, using the last term loosely. He has blue eyes and those eyes reappear in one generation or another throughout the story. Portugal’s monarchy was overthrown in 1910 but a military coup 16 years later established a right-wing dictatorship under Salazar, similar to that of Spain’s Franco.

The Catholic Church offered no solace or support for the poverty stricken, No wonder Portuguese politics turned so anti-clerical. (And Portuguese church attendance even today is one of the lowest among Catholic countries.) The church supported the wealthy landowners, preaching obedience to law, while priests spent their time saying private masses in the homes of the wealthy. And in this particular story, the local priest made even more money off the peasants by running the local grocery store. (While he kept a drinking buddy and shared the rectory roof with his “niece.”)

The local lands produce cork, wheat, maize, rice, olives. The peasants make charcoal and raise pigs and sheep. There is communist agitation and many, at great risk, join the cause for an 8-hour day and a minimum 40-escudo weekly wage. Those caught spreading propaganda are arrested and brutalized. Once arrested, landowners will never hire them again so their only option is to emigrate to work in the sugar beet fields of France. The threat of being drafted into the military to serve in Portugal’s endless colonial wars in Africa hangs over every male’s head. It’s amazing that people even survived these generations of such hard times and it’s no surprise to learn that Portugal historically has had one of the highest rates of emigration, akin to that of Ireland’s due to the potato famine.

Saramago is one of my favorite authors and I have read seven or eight of his novels. Below are links to my reviews of other novels of his:

Blindness

The Double

All the Names

The Lizard - a children’s book

The Stone Raft

Death with Interruptions

The Cave

Cain

The Tale of the Unknown Island – short story

[Vit Babenco · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sickle, flail, scythe: those are the most ancient implements used by man… The ones who own the land are rich and the ones who work using these tools are poor… But there are the poor and there are those who are even poorer…

Then the first man from the north walked over to the wheat with his sickle, and the first man from the south grabbed his arm, and they grappled clumsily, awkwardly, roughly, brutishly, hunger against hunger, poverty against poverty, how dearly we buy our daily bread. The guards arrived and broke up the fight, attacking one side only, driving back with their sabers those from the south and corralling them as if they were animals.

Divide and rule… The poorer are the poor the richer are the rich…
“For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.” Matthew 13:12
The peasant labour is very hard, exhausting and ungrateful but only earth can feed hungry mouths.

[Ahmed · Rating 4 out of 5]

لقد خُلق الشعب ليعيش قذرًا و جائعًا . فشعب يستحم هو شعب لا يعمل .


أفضل ما قرأت لساراماجو إلى الآن , العمل المباشر الصريح , بلا أي تعقيدات ولا حبكات روائية تحتاج إلى حرق مكثف لخلايا المخ لكي تجاريها , عمل يمس كل إنسان في شخصه وأدق تفاصيل حياته .

الكاتب برتغالي : فأرّخ لتاريخ بلاده بطريقة لا تُقاوم , طريقة مبهرة , مبهرة في تفاصيلها في أحداثها في شخصياتها , مبهرة إنه قدم لك الوجه الحقيقي لبلاده , ولكن لا , لم يقدم فقط وجه بلاده الحقيقي , بل قدّم الوجه الحقيقي لكل ظلم وطغيان , لبلاد القمع والعدوان .

الرواية واقعية , واقعية صادمة , ليست مجرد نوع أدبي نسميه الواقعية انتهجه الكاتب , بل هي واقعية التجربة , الكاتب مرّ بتلك اللحظات التي كتب عنها , ببساطة : هو طلع دين أمه في الحياة علشان يقدر يقدم لنا الصورة الواقعية الصادمة دي , الصادقة بهذا الشكل المحزن المخيف .

الروائي الجيد من وجهة نظري هو القادر على أن يبث فينا أقسى أنواع الشجن من جملة واحدة له , جملة يكتبها فنترجمها نحن في أذهاننا لحدث طويل وموضوع يحوم حولها و ينسج خيطها , الكاتب الجيد هو القادر على السيطرة على أذهان القارئ , ويجذبه لكتاباته فلا يتركها ولا تتركه حتى بعد أن ينتهي منها , وساراماجو ليس مجرد كاتب جيد , بل هو كاتب ممتاز , بل هو ساحر عظيم , ساحر لم يمتلك إلا أداة واحدة وهي القلم , وأعظم بها من أداة .

الشعب لابد أن يكون فقير, الفقراء يدخلون الجنة : هي جملة قيلت في مسرحية مصرية (الزعيم) وكانت من باب الفكاهة , ولكن لا , هي ليست مجرد جملة , هي حقيقة يتخذها النظام الحاكم المستبد في أي وطن للسيطرة على مواطنيه متخذًا من الدين درع حمايته و وسيلة إغراءه الأقوى , فتجردت الكنائس والمساجد والمعابد من كل قيمة لها لكي تخدم تلك الانظمة المطعمة لها لتحول بيوت الرب إلى بيوت الحاكم ليحكم بما أراد , وتصبح كلمة الحاكم مقدسة وتصبح الشعوب مهانة بأمر الله . إنها مهزلة , مهزلة كل عصر , وكل مجتمع , مجتمعات تسلم بعضها بعض , وتلقن بعضها بعض الدرس , أن الغوغاء يسكتون للدين , فاجلدوهم به .

سمعت إن ساراماجو كان شيوعي : ويا جمال الشيوعية , ويا كمال أقلامها , الرجل ترجم معاناته لصرخة حق , تصلح لكل زمان , ولكل مكان , ولكل مجتمع .

الأرض وُجدنا عليها لنعاني , ونُظلم و نُضرب , وفي حالة سكوتنا فنحن نستحق , أما إن ثورنا فهي ثورة الحق , هي ثورة الأرض .

ببساطة مطلقة : هي رواية عن المجتمع البرتغالي في القرن العشرين , من بداية القرن العشرين إلى ما يتجاوز نصفه بعقود قليلة , أو بالتحديد إلى ثورة القرنفل (1974) عبر عائلة المنحوس (يا خفة دم أمه بصراحه ) , فعبر هذه العائلة سرد تاريخ أمة بكاملها , أمة نزحت تحت الظلم والطغيان إلى أن ثارت لحقوقها .
أسلوب ساراماجو مبهر بكل ما تحمله الكلمة من معنى , أسلوب ساحر , دمج بين التعقيد والبساطة بلمسة لا توصف عظمتها , بحنكة و حكمة مبهجة ,

رواية عظيمة من كاتب عظيم . الوصف الممتع مع الشخصيات المرسومة بدقة مع المشاعر الانسانية العميقة , كل ذلك مع حس وطني رفيع , أنتج لنا عمل أدبي يُخلد .

[Ricardo Gomes · Rating 5 out of 5]

O meu avô nasceu com fome. O meu avô cresceu com fome. O meu avô fugia de casa para ir à escola. O meu avô não fez mais que a quarta classe porque tinha que cuidar de uma vaca. O meu avô trabalhou toda a vida para o mesmo patrão, não havia outro. Trabalhou de sol a sol. Dias e dias a deitar-se noite alta e a levantar-se quando ainda não havia sol.
Nunca perdeu a dignidade. Juntamente com a minha avó criaram a minha mãe para que ela nunca tivesse que levar a vida que eles levaram. Nunca roubaram ou ficaram a dever. Nunca ninguém se levantou por eles. Se eu hoje pude acabar de ler este livro, a eles o devo.
Este livro passa-se no Alentejo, mas li nele os meus avós. É a história de três gerações, homens e mulheres que nunca foram mais que formigas. Escravos de uma terra que não lhes pertenceu nunca. Em dia bom havia uma sardinha e café mau. Em dias maus, iam de surtida encher um saco de bolotas no coberto da noite, com medo da guarda.
Levantaram-se de chão e foram pisados. Nas prisões da PIDE, nas praças do Alentejo, nas searas que patrões preferiam queimar a ceder à prece dos esfomeados para que lhes pagassem mais 5 tostões. O que ganhavam não dava para comer.
Este livro é uma mancha de sangue em forma de homenagem aos trabalhadores rurais que nunca deixaram a sua dignidade de lado, escravizados nas suas terras, escravos do lucro, dos luxos, das casas em Lisboa, dos carros e dos palácios dos donos. Como pode o homem ser tão cruel que veja no seu semelhante nada mais que uma enxada?

“Fez António Mau-Tempo uma pausa, bebe um gole curto de vinho, para falar melhor, limpa a boca às costas da mão, não há guardanapo mais natural, e torna a dizer, Acham eles que passando nós fome nas nossas terras nos devíamos sujeitar a tudo, mas aí é que se enganam, que a nossa fome é uma fome limpa, e os cardos que temos que ripar, ripam-nos as nossas mãos, que mesmo quando estão sujas, limpas são, não há mãos mais limpas que as nossas, é a primeira coisa que aprendemos quando entramos no quartel, não faz parte da instrução de arma, mas adivinha-se, e um homem pode escolher entre a fome inteira e a vergonha de comer o que nos dão, quando também é certo que a mim me vieram chamar a Monte Lavre para servir a pátria, dizem eles, mas servir a pátria não sei o que seja, se a pátria é minha mãe e é meu pai, dizem também, de meus verdadeiros pais sei eu, e todos sabem dos seus, que tiraram à boca para não faltar à nossa, e então a pátria deve tirar à sua própria boca para não faltar à minha, e se eu tiver de comer cardos, coma-os a pátria comigo, ou então uns são filhos da pátria e os outros filhos da puta”

[BookHunter M ُH َM َD · Rating 2 out of 5]

أما السلاح الأقوى و الأقطع فهو الجهل. إنهم من الملائم ألا يعرفوا. ألا يقرأوا. ألا يكتبوا. ألا يحكو. ألا يفكروا. أن يعتبروا و يقبلوا أن الدنيا لا يمكن تغييرها. و أن هذه الحياة هي الاحتمال الوحيد. الممكن. بما هي عليه. و أن وراء هذه الحياة تنتظرهم الجنة.
⭐️⭐️
و قال الأب أجاماديس لنعاجه التي يرعاها: مملكتنا لا تقبع في هذه الدنيا. عانوا في حياتكم لتفوزوا بالسماء. و بقدر الدموع التي تزرفونها في وادي البلايا هذا ستكونون بقرب الرب عندما تتركون هذه الدنيا. فكل ما فيها خسارة. شيطان و لحم. و انتبهوا أنني لا أغمي عيونكم. ستكونون مخدوعين إن اعتقدتم أن الرب إلهكم يترككم أحرارا في الخير و الشر. في اليوم الآخر توضع الأعمال في الميزان. و من الأفضل أن نؤدي ديوننا في هذه الدنيا من أن نؤديها في الآخرة.
⭐️⭐️
خلال الأشهر الستة تلك حدثت تغيرات. البعض يراها قليلة. و البعض الآخر تبدو له هائلة. لا تلاحظ في المنظر الطبيعي إلا بالكاد. باستثناء تغييرات الفصول. أما التغيرات الأخرى فتصعق من يراها. كيف صار الأفراد عجائز. كيف قفزت الكهولة على أكتاف هؤلاء الآتين من السجن. و هؤلاء الذين لم يخرجوا من جبل لافري. و كيف كبر الغلمان.

[Cheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Some lives are erased more completely than others, but that's only because we have so many things to think about, we end up not noticing those lives until there comes a day when we regret our neglect, I was wrong, we say, I should have paid more attention, exactly, if only we'd had those feelings earlier, but these are merely twinges of remorse that arise and, fortunately, are almost immediately forgotten."

In this singular and visceral literary style of unending thought streams and interchangeable perspectives, where proper nouns are sometimes abandoned and thoughts cascade into a cacophony of dialogue without quotations (only capital letters to signal speaker change), where uninterrupted sentences flow into paragraphs of non-linear thought, and characters are introduced at the intersection of commas, Saramago introduced me to the chaos that was Portugal, during Salazar's reign during the late 1960s, and at the onset of the Portuguese revolution.

I sat in the Lisbon he described, walked the Rua Augusta the Mau-Tempos walk when they first embark upon the city, and I envisioned their trepidation: "so many people, so much traffic, and we're not used to walking on pavements, we keep slipping and sliding in our fear of the trams, and you two fall over, which makes Lisbonites laugh, What bumpkins, they cry."

We end up not noticing those lives, so Saramago writes about them. Each chapter is ingrained with the tribulation of the worker, during World War I and II, each section an encapsulation of beauty interspersed with pain so much so that it forces you to listen closely to the beat of each line, enjoying the humor that also follows as you trail the Mau-Tempo family for several generations. Amid shapeliness of prose and some abstract renderings of theory, a story exudes, where workers are jailed for asking for eight-hour workdays (instead of the dawn-to-dusk they're required to work), they're jailed for striking against hostile work environments, tortured for simply being handed communist pamphlets by street pushers (although they can't read and don't even understand the words). It was interesting to learn that this is considered one of Saramago's "most autobiographical and deeply personal novel."

there is no poetry in this, we'd like to see someone make a sonnet out of one man losing his grip on his axe and watching it skitter down the branch, catching the bark as it falls, and impaling itself in a bare foot, coarse and grubby, but so fragile, because when it comes to skin and the blade of an axe, there is little difference between the delicate, rosy foot of some cultivated maiden and the calloused hoof of a cork cutter, it takes the same time for the blood to spurt out.

With quite a few options of Saramago's books to read, I chose this one after I'd visited an eminent literary locale in Portugal and asked about books on the Salazar dictatorship, only to later wonder at the bemused expressions of a few people who worked there. One suggested I search the internet (another surprise because hello, we were surrounded by books, research, and culture…) Curious, especially since this same location had been receptive to my group prior, I went to the internet and this New York Times article helped placed things into perspective: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/23/wor...

I don't necessarily recommend that this be the first Saramago novel one reads, but it should definitely be a Saramago novel one reads for its emotional truths and historical renderings of perspectives rarely highlighted.

[Ensaio Sobre o Desassossego · Rating 5 out of 5]

"a tirar cortiça, a ceifar, a podar, a sachar, a limpar, como é que as pessoas se não cansam dessa monotonia, todos os dias iguais uns aos outros, pelo menos na pouca comida, e a ânsia de ganhar um pouco de dinheiro para o dia de amanhã, que é a grande ameaça destes lugares, o dia de amanhã, amanhã também é dia, como foi ontem, em vez de ser alguma esperança, um arzinho que fosse, se viver é isto."

Ora bem, como começar a escrever sobre um livro de Saramago? Não sei. Não sei mesmo. Tudo o que possa escrever vai com toda a certeza ficar aquém do valor do livro do Mestre.

Numa prosa digna de Saramago, é-nos apresentada a família Mau-Tempo, família de trabalhadores rurais, família digna, sofredora e que serve como exemplo para retratar a exploração sofrida pelos camponeses.
Tendo como pano de fundo a ditadura, o nosso Nobel vai fazendo um retrato bastante fidedigno do que era Portugal no século XX: a fome, a miséria, a opressão.

Neto de camponeses, Saramago conheceu e ouviu muitas estórias da terra. As origens. Sempre as origens. A mesma história, os mesmos poderosos, a mesma opressão.
Sara da Conceição, Domingos Mau-Tempo, Domingos Carranca, Gracinda Mau-Tempo, António Mau-Tempo, Sigismundo Canastro, Manuel Espada, João Mau-Tempo são pessoas que trabalham de sol a sol, que tentam viver, sempre com a esperança (e a ameaça) de um novo dia. E José Adelino dos Santos, assassinado pela PIDE a 23 de Junho de 1958.

Saramago dá voz aos que nunca tiveram voz, dá voz aos oprimidos. Os nomes são estes, mas podiam ser quaisquer outros. Todo um povo representado por três gerações.
Esta é uma homenagem ao Alentejo, uma homenagem aos trabalhadores rurais, uma homenagem ao campo e à vida no campo.

Como todos os outros livros de Saramago, é um livro doloroso de ler e, ao mesmo tempo, é belo e emocionante. Saramago consegue fazer algo muito bonito: transformar a dor em poesia. Absolutamente brilhante, como só Saramago sabe fazer.

"Levantado do Chão" entrou directamente para o meu top 3 de livros de Saramago (desculpem todos os outros!) e é daqueles livros que quero oferecer a toda a gente.

"Não somos homens se desta vez não nos levantarmos do chão" ❤

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hunc et incomptis Curium capillis
utilem bello tulit et Camillum
saeva paupertas et avitus apto
cum lare fundus. (1.12)

As I read Saramago's beautiful but lamentable book, I remembered Horace's Odes. In particular his imagery of the latifundia or the large estates owned by the ancestral landowners that used the slaves to get the most of the land back in the Roman era. Fast forward 1900 years to Portugal. The plight is still the same.

The landless farmer peasant is raised generation after generation to work the land of these large estates. Life is cruel, hard and a complete struggle and yet the latifundio is everything. People meet, fall in love, get married, have children and complete the cycle all over. Saramago calls it an all encompassing life that nourishes; and a a sea that continues to roll on. A world within itself. There are joys but many hardships. The people know of little else. They take each day as it comes.

Saramago's language is poetic in tone and yet easily distracted. The narator tells the story of the Mau-Tempo family who lived through the early 20th century. As the name implies (Bad Time), they live through the challenges of the Salazar dictatorship into the 1960s. This is a world of polarization: the wealthy land owners who think little of the workers on their fields; and the growing influence of worker's rights that wanted changes for the worker. This is the tension between communism and fascism that pervaded the 20th century. And personal as well, since Saramago's own grandparents lived this existence.

Although politics runs behind the scenes, Saramago's empathy for the poor worker is never didactic nor heavy handed. Instead, it's fluid, taking on a rambling, almost folksy narative. The characters are real, yet are puppets in this big scheme of the latifundio. It is easy to care for them and even though one feels like things will end badly for them, you have faith that Saramago will steer them in a better direction.

Gloomy and depressing? At times. Startling and revealing? Oh, most definitely. One reads this book and thinks, hey that wasn't that long ago in Portugal? How did they come so far? Stamina. And a lot of faith.

I found it mesmerizing and powerful. This book was first published in 1980 but only translated in English in 2012. It shows what a master writer Saramago was.

[Álvaro Curia]

Um relato monumental do Portugal profundo, rural, miserável, desde o início do século XX até à centelha de esperança que representou 25 de abril.

Como sempre, gostei muito da escrita, dos recursos utilizados pelo autor, da forma lenta, cuidada, de nos envolver no livro e com as suas personagens.

Poderá ser uma espécie de epopeia rural?

Não sei. Não ficará para mim como um dos preferidos de Saramago, mas dizer isto é como dizer que um atleta olímpico não medalhou. Será sempre um dos melhores do mundo, mesmo sem medalhas.

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Raised from the Ground, by Nobel Prize winning author José Saramago is a mid-career novel (1980) that has only just been translated into English. It’s a beautiful, life-affirming book that gives voice to a segment of society that very rarely is heard.

The novel is said to be the most autobiographical of Saramago’s fiction, because it’s an affectionate but at times brutally realistic recreation of the lives of his grandparents who were landless peasants in rural Portugal. Like the other books I have read by this author - Blindness, (see my review) and The Double (see my review) – it has a political agenda, but those novels are subversive allegories, while this one is a chronological narrative of the Mau-Tempo (Badweather) family in Alentejo, an agricultural province of Portugal. It traces the family’s fortunes from the formation of the Portuguese Republic in the early 20th century to the demise of the dictator Salazar in the mid 1970s.

As Ursula Le Guin says in her review for The Guardian, it is rare for the poor and oppressed to write their own story, most obviously because they tend to be poorly educated. I have just recently acquired a copy of Life Under Russian Serfdom: The Memoirs of Savva Dmitrievich Purlevskii, 1800-68, and in his introduction the translator and editor Boris B. Gorshkov mentions that it wasn’t possible to retain the memoir in its original form because the author’s writing skills reflected his limited education. The achievement of Raised from the Ground is that Saramago’s intimate knowledge of the peasant life his grandparents led, brings it alive. His unique style - very long sentences which segue from one speaker to another – gives the impression of family and village conversations murmuring their way through tumultuous events in Portugal.

...

Surrendering to enter the world of these characters is an unforgettable experience… Raised from the Ground is sublime.

To read the rest of my review please visit http://anzlitlovers.com/2013/03/06/ra...

[MihaElla · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘Raised from the Ground’ is a special gift, and I acknowledge it thankfully, from my co-worker Niki based in Athens. While we have met recently in Zagreb, she said this is a small token from a book lover to a book lover. She knew from beforehand my present reading taste. I tried to find her choice too but she kept total silence, so I failed to offset her gift with a similar one. By consequence, this sounds like I have a spiritual debt to fulfill.
As much personal this work seems to be to Saramago, I could daringly say the same for my case. It’s not that, as per the novel's theme, which concerns the life events in a family of very poor agricultural workers over the span of four generations, I have been a similar actor, but that I have plenty of stories shared by my grandparents, who, at least half of them, were actually in a very approximative situation: landless peasants struggling to survive in a difficult social and economic environment.
This beautifully enriched novel, in the usual style of Saramago, mix of sarcasm, humour, wit, harsh reality, is a story about the Portuguese (and not only) ‘latifundio’, some big agricultural estates, so not about the city. It is about the man living on the latifundio, strong and quick on his feet, who had to slow down to accommodate to painful pain of having being raised from the dead, because each day is a struggle with illness, starvation, even death, and to cheer himself up regardless of weather, regime, people, work, etc. It’s about the living ghosts (labourers) who, when the night falls, trudge themselves up to the places where they have their lodgings (in most cases far away from their actual homes) …Or, in the best way described precisely by the narrator, it’s about the man ‘being nothing but a latifundio rabbit, cutting cork, scything, pruning, hoeing, weeding’ and ‘why do they not weary of such monotony, every day the same as the last, at least as regards the scant food and the desire to earn a little money for tomorrow, which hangs over these places like a threat, tomorrow, tomorrow is just another day, like yesterday, rather than being the hope for something new, if that’s what life is.’
In one way or another, one would need a lot of imagination to invent any extraordinary incidents or events in the life of these landless peasants, as this way of life is made up of repeated words and repeated gestures, day in, day out, because mainly the talk is about work and the working day! These people work, work, work, all day and all night, and when there is no work, they demand it to all who can give them work to do, and continue with it as there is nothing else to life but work, because in the end this is the only means to gain some money. It’s also about the misfortunes suffered by the peasants because of the local and national guards, during times of arrests and imprisonments…All in all, seemingly we must all have experienced such things and others, because life, despite being short, has room for these and many more, but there are some who lived but briefly and their whole life was consumed in this one task only...
The main hero Joao Mau-Tempo is not so sure in his heart of hearts that, as per others’ opinion, he did set a good example in life to this own family and/or others. His reasons are so well justified:
≪… he has spent his whole life simply earning his daily bread, and some days he doesn’t even manage that, and this thought immediately forms a kind of knot inside his head, that a man should come into a world he never asked to be born into, only to experience a more than normal degree of cold and hunger as a child, if there is such a thing as normal, and grow up to find that same hunger redoubled as a punishment for having a body capable of withstanding such hardship, to be mistreated by bosses and overseers, by guards both local and national, to reach the age of forty and finally speak your mind, only to be herded like cattle to the market or the slaughterhouse, to be further humiliated in prison, and to find that even freedom is a slap in the face, a crust of bread flung down on the ground to see if you’ll pick it up. That’s what we do when a piece of bread falls onto the ground, we pick it up, blow on it as if to restore its spirit, then kiss it, but we won’t eat it there and then, no, I’ll divide it into four, two large pieces and two small, here you are Amelia, here you are Gracinda, this is for you and this is for me, and if anyone asks who the two larger pieces are for, he is lower than animals, because I’m sure even an animal would know…. ≫
≪…the parents cannot do everything. They bring their children into the world, do for them the little they know how to do, and hope for the best, believing that if they’re very careful, or even when they’re not, for fathers often deceive themselves and think they have been attentive when they haven’t, no son of theirs will become a vagabond, no daughter of theirs will be dishonoured, no drop of their blood poisoned….≫
These life stories are important more because they are picturesque facts that contribute to the history of the rural life and atmosphere… However, the truth is rather different.
When a new baby is born, the gift that these people bring to is actually no gift to speak of, unless it’s the ark of suffering that they carry in their heart can be considered a gift, lots and lots of years of suffering. It seems rather mean and in somewhat bad taste to give such a gift to a newborn, but these men from the latifundio can only choose from what they, in turn, were given, as much sweat as one could want, enough joy to fill a toothless smile, and a plot of land large enough to devour their bones, because the rest of the land is needed for other crops.
The men of the latifundio have long been accustomed to the perversities of nature and to their own mistakes. They cry out the same cry every year, at every season, about every job. <<...Instead of worrying about the salvation of their immortal soul, if they have, they care only about bodily comforts, they have learned nothing from the ascetics, no, all they think about is MONEY...>>, as per the village priest lecturing. Everything is DEFECTIVE, overall.
Out of my extensive reads so far on his works, it seems Saramago was a keen supporter of the communist party. In his way of thinking the communists (the red kite flying high in the story) might have been able to provide a better solution to the lives of people living on the latifundio. In my real life, the communist regime was the harshest I have experienced. Fortunately, I was young enough not to be irrevocably stigmatized by it. But yes, there is needed a better solution. For everything that life is about.

[Post Scriptum · Rating 5 out of 5]

Caro José,
mi sono trasformata in una formica, come quella che alza la testa al modo dei cani e guarda, dal basso verso l’alto, ciò di cui sono capaci certi esseri umani.
Così ho assistito alla vita e alla morte in questa dura terra dell’Alentejo. Terra dura così come dura è la vita dei suoi poveri braccianti.
Ho ascoltato le parole dei disperati e ho sentito la loro rabbia per le violenze e le ingiustizie patite.
Ho sentito l’odore del sangue e quello del sudore e ho sentito il rumore delle botte e le grida di scherno durante le torture.
Ho guardato gli occhi di una bambina, azzurri come il cielo, versarsi nel cielo azzurro degli occhi di suo nonno che ancora per un attimo la potrà respirare.
Ho sentito il sale delle lacrime e la dolcezza dell’amore.
Ho inspirato terra e polvere, pioggia e sole.
Ho provato collera perché, se guardo oltre, vedo tante terre d’Alentejo e tanti soprusi che hanno attraversato indenni il tempo per annientare nuovi eroi.
Ma i sogni non si fermano, e non si fermano le passioni.

Grazie José, per aver elevato a totale poesia i cenci degli oppressi, il pianto degli ultimi, la lotta per il diritto alla dignità.

[Luís · Rating 2 out of 5]

Very dark, narration not dynamic enough.

[diario_de_um_leitor_pjv · Rating 5 out of 5]

Um livro perfeito. Que bela história. É que perfeição no contar dessa história.
Que bom livro.

[Teresa · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Isto é um livro sobre o Alentejo."
José Saramago

Para minha grande pena, não posso colocar Levantado do Chão na estante onde se mantêm, solitários, três Grandes de Saramago. Terá de ir juntar-se aos outros cinco, no monte...

A prosa está perfeitamente enquadrada, ao narrar uma história do povo em linguagem do povo. Uma maravilha!

Em relação ao enredo achei-o demasiado extenso e repetitivo, e com personagens sem alma; ou seja, todos os elementos das várias gerações da família Mau-Tempo têm as mesmas características, parecendo-me serem apenas figurinos para representar o Alentejo e a luta do seu povo durante os anos do fascismo até à revolução de Abril: a miséria, a fome, a luta pela terra, as greves, as prisões...

[Bárbara Rodrigues · Rating 4 out of 5]

Até agora foi o livro de Saramago que achei mais difícil de ler.
Uma história de miséria, injustiças e desigualdades, mas principalmente de uma luta constante por melhores condições de vida.

[A. Raca · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Bazı günler vardır ki soğuk iliklerimize işler ve bazen sıcaktan nefes alamaz hale geliriz, dünya asla tam anlamıyla mutlu olmaz, eğer bir gün olursa sonu gelmiş demektir."

[Marta Clemente · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Levantado do chão" conta-nos a história da família Mau Tempo em 3 das suas gerações. Passa-se no Alentejo, no concelho de Montemor, em pleno século XX. A família Mau Tempo é família de trabalhadores, abusados como todos os do seu tempo pelos seus patrões, donos do latifundio que lhes dá trabalho e que lhes mata a fome. José Saramago conta-nos com mestria está história. Imprime-nos na mente o viver destes tempos, as motivações destes pobres trabalhadores, o abuso de que eram alvos pelos sistema e pela guarda. É tão bom! Culmina com o 25 de Abril de 1974 e é uma excelente leitura para a celebração destes 50 anos de Abril. Pra que não nos esqueçamos do que passou e para que tudo façamos para que não volte!

"... nem sonham que aquele homem ali da esquina chegou agora de Caxias, onde esteve seis meses, e fez de estátua setenta e duas horas e foi espancado, não se acredita que tais coisas aconteçam no nosso belo país, quem as conta decerto que exagera."

"Está aqui escrito que o primeiro de Maio será festejado livremente, e dia feriado em todo o país, E então a guarda, insistem os de boa memória, A guarda desta vez fica a ver-nos passar, quem havia de dizer que uma coisa assim nos viria a acontecer um dia, a guarda quieta e calada enquanto tu gritas viva o primeiro de Maio. "

[Jeroen Vandenbossche · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Opgestaan van de grond” was mijn allereerste roman van de hand van Saramago.

Het bleek een woedend, ruw maar ook een poëtisch en bovenal erg meeslepend boek te zijn. Saramago doet iets heel bijzonders met de regels van de syntaxis en van de vertelkunst: hij lapt ze zonder uitzondering en met heel veel zwier aan zijn laars.

Het boek krijgt daardoor een rotvaart die in schril contrast staat met het tijdloze landschap en de onwrikbare, eeuwenoude sociale verhoudingen die samen de twee hoofdthema’s van de roman vormen.

Ik kom hier nog op terug want dit moet wat bezinken.

[Claudia · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is such a royal feast to read something by Saramago. His stories are not unique by subject; they are unique by approach. There is no plot, nor action; it is just history or life facts retold with his unmistakable style and words. Whether is apocryphal or real doesn’t matter; what matters is that they are so full of life, always spiced with fine humor and irony.

And this book here makes no exception; structured as a bildungsroman, it tells the story of Mau-Tempo family, during the harsh years of early-mid 1900s till the Portuguese revolution from April 1974: sad, somber, yet so lively and spirited.

One of Saramago’s finest works.

[Aya Hatem · Rating 4 out of 5]

مقدمة الكتاب : " وأنا أسأل علماء السياسيين وعلماء الاخلاق : هل أحصوا عدد من حُكمَ عليهم بمعانة البؤس والشقاء وتثبيط الهمة والنمو المتأخر والجهل المفسد والمصائب التى لا تقهر والفقر المدقع ، كل ذلك من أجل خلق ثرى واحد ! " ________ لـ المييدا جاريت


مقتطفات قصيرة :
- الحرس يابنى تم خلقه والانفاق عليه لكى يسوق الشعب ، وماذا يفعل الشعب ؟ ، ليس لدى الشعب من يجعله يسوق مالك الوسية الذى يأمر الحرس ليسوقوا الشعب ، ان فى مقدور الشعب ان يأمر الحرس أن يسوقوا ملاك الوسايا

- هناك حكاية أخرى أكثر جلاء ، حكاية الصندوقين الحجريين اللذين دفنهما المسلمون ، أحدهما يفيض ذهباً والاخر يفيض بالمصائب ، يحكى ان احداً لم يتجرأ على البحث عنهما خشية ان يفتح خطأ صندوق المصائب ، لو لم يكن الصندوق مفتوحاً ماصار هذا حال الدنيا ، مليئة بالمصائب

- سالت دماء كثيرة ، دماء من كثرتها قد تستخدم كحبر لكتابة الاغاز شديدة السرية ، مثل هل عرف من مات من هؤلاء البشر سبب موته ، وهل قَبِلَ الموت ؟ ، وتُكنس الوسية لتبقى الارض ناعمة من أجل معركة جديدة

- الايادى تمسك الزمام او ترجم بالحجارة المأخوذة من الارض او الحجارة التى فى جيوبهم ، انه حق الاعزل ن سلاح آخر ، ومن الخلف ستطير والمؤكد انها لم تصب احداً فالحجر كان يرمى هكذا بلا هدف بعينه

- ويريد صاحب الوسية ان ينقذ روحه ، ان يقدم نفسه يوم القيامة قائل��ً للملائكة ورؤسائها ، لقد كنت رحيماً بعبيدى ، كانوا يعملون ساعات طويلة لكن لحبى لله طلبت منهم ان يعملوا فقط ثمانِ ساعات فى اليوم ، وأعطيتهم يوم الاحد إجازة ، وكما فعلت خيراً به أنتظر مكانى فى الجنة

- تعود للوسية الصرامة المعروفة ، ليست صؤامة الحرس والبوليس السياسى ، فالثانى قد انتهى والاول يسكن داخل ثكنته ، ناظراً للشارع خلال النافذة المغلقة

[Vlad Pîrvu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nu dispun de cuvintele necesare, așa că nu scriu o recenzie în sine. În schimb, las un îndemn să citești cartea și să-l (re)descoperi pe Saramago. Nu e ușor, presupune anduranță, perseverență și loialitate față de un text lung, îndesat și claustrofobic. Dar, odată ce ai călcat dincolo, ceva se modifică în tine nu vrei să te mai întorci.

„Ridicat de la pământ” nu este romanul mai multor generații, ci testamentul tuturor generațiilor. O declarație de iubire pe care Saramago o face omului, pământului, patriei și marii literaturi, și pe care ne-o dezvăluie ca o antiteză absolută a țăranului față de lume, față de vremuri și față de destin.

[Rita · Rating 4 out of 5]

José Saramago – Prémio Nobel da Literatura, 1998
"que, com parábolas portadoras de imaginação, compaixão e ironia torna constantemente compreensível uma realidade fugidia"
José Saramago (1922-2010) nasceu na aldeia de Azinhaga, Ribatejo. Aos dois anos mudou-se com a família para Lisboa, onde estudou e concluiu o curso de serralheiro mecânico. Trabalhou como serralheiro, funcionário público na área da saúde e na previdência social, foi director literário de uma editora, jornalista e tradutor.
Levantado do chão foi publicado em 1980, e definiu-lhe o estilo. A RTP, há uns anos, passou um documentário que pode ser visto aqui

LATIFÚNDIO 🔸 FAMÍLIA MAU-TEMPO 🔸 TRABALHO 🔸 A LUTA DE UM POVO



O que mais há na terra, é paisagem. Por muito que do resto lhe falte, a paisagem sempre sobrou, abundância que só por milagre infatigável se explica, porquanto a paisagem é sem dúvida anterior ao homem, e apesar disso, de tanto existir, não se acabou ainda. Será porque constantemente muda: tem épocas no ano em que o chão é verde, outras amarelo, e depois castanho, ou negro. E também vermelho, em lugares, que é cor de barro ou sangue sangrado. Mas isso depende do que no chão se plantou e cultiva, ou ainda não, ou não já, ou do que por simples natureza nasceu, sem mão de gente, e só vem a morrer porque chegou o seu último fim. Não é tal o caso do trigo, que ainda com alguma vida é cortado. Nem do sobreiro, que vivíssimo, embora por sua gravidade o não pareça, se lhe arranca a pele. Aos gritos.

Levantado do chão reconta a história portuguesa do século XX através da epopeia dos trabalhadores agrários alentejanos.
A história centra-se nas quatro gerações da família Mau-Tempo.
Na época de Domingos Mau-Tempo há a queda da monarquia e a chegada da República. Logo em seguida, chegam ao latifúndio notícias da I Guerra Mundial. Com João Mau-Tempo, instaura-se o Estado Novo e ocorrem a II Guerra Mundial e a Guerra Civil Espanhola. No final da narrativa, temos o fim do regime ditatorial, com a Revolução dos Cravos em 1974.

E do chão, levanta-se toda uma Nação.

[Mahmoud Aziz · Rating 5 out of 5]

الثورة ..
اختلفت الأبدان والجرح واحد
والثورة ، دائمًا ، هي البلسم

ساراماجو ..
عظيم كالعادة

[Francisco Eustáquio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gostei muito desta leitura. O acompanhar de quatro gerações de uma família que é o percurso pela nossa histórias desde o fim da monarquia até ao 25 de abril. Uma família (uma nação) que se ergue do chão na luta pelos seus direitos. Muito bem escritos o arrepiante capítulo de Germano Santos Vidigal, o tenebroso período da ditadura, a crítica ao papel da igreja na do status quo. 

Das coisas que mais gosto no Saramago é  a sua coragem em marcar uma posição, em não ao ter medo da polémica. Este livro, no ano em que foi publicado (1980) será indissociável do posterior exílio de Saramago.

"Levantado do chão" entrou para o meu top 3 de Saramago ao lado da "cegueira" e das "memórias"

[jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

one of the late nobel laureate's earlier novels, raised from the ground (levantado do chão) was originally published in saramago's native portuguese in 1980 but has only now been posthumously translated into english. set in the alentejo region of portugal, the novel follows three generations of the mau-tempo family on the latifundio (a large, mostly agrarian estate) as they toiled away in the wheatfields. despite enduring rural poverty, financial insecurity, class divisions, punishing labor, and the punitive caprices of overseer, church, and state, the mau-tempos sought to lead fulfilling lives only to be thwarted often by any number of seemingly ceaseless hardships.

saramago's own grandparents (jerónimo & josefa) were illiterate and landless peasants and served obviously as inspiration for both raised from the ground's plot and its lively characters. in his nobel prize lecture, saramago described his grandfather as "the wisest man i ever knew." during the same speech, in talking about this very novel, he continued,

and it was with such men and women risen from the ground, real people first, figures of fiction later, that I learned how to be patient, to trust and to confide in time, that same time that simultaneously builds and destroys us in order to build and once more to destroy us.

raised from the ground is one of saramago's most plaintive and personal tales, with strong characters as much at the whim of external forces as any in his other novels. beginning around the late 1800s and spanning the better part of a century through the coup that deposed salazar, the story follows the family's generations as each strives to overcome the past and seek for themselves a life easier than the ones their forebears knew. forever facing the misfortunes and daily humiliations that marked their years (including the ongoing threat of violence and imprisonment), the mau-tempos endeavored, and, quite literally, labored for their lives.

of all of his novels, it is within raised from the ground that saramago most thinly veils his opinions about politics. as individuals (including one of the mau-tempos) attempt to organize on behalf of latifundio workers throughout the region, they are met with immediate repression and draconian reprisals. when the tenets of communism begin to gain in popularity, both the state and church implement tactics of fear and oppression to stifle the growing opposition. saramago shades his novel with allusions to actual historical events including, most notably, the carnation revolution that ushered in an entirely new era of portuguese cultural and political life.

throughout raised from the ground, saramago explores many of the themes that would so singularly characterize and bring great acclaim to his later works. his unique grammatical and prose stylings are present, but are somewhat less masterfully asserted as they would come to be in subsequent novels. in more ways than one, raised from the ground bears similarity to the writings of john steinbeck, a fellow author for whom the politics of labor were not so easily divorced from everyday life. raised from the ground is a beautiful, however sorrowful, novel the likes of which saramago was so adept at creating. from his humble beginnings to the pinnacle of literary accomplishment, saramago appeared to approach his life with dignity, compassion, and a yearning for justice- three qualities to be found in abundance within this timeless tale of the human condition.

although most of his books have been available in english for some time, there still remains a fair amount of as-yet unrendered works well deserving of translation (including poetry, diaries, short stories, a children's book, and at least two novels). earlier this year, claraboia, a "lost" saramago novel written nearly 60 years ago, was published for the first time (in both portuguese and spanish) and is likely slated for an english translation. fans of his remarkable career that have not yet done so are strongly encouraged to seek out miguel gonçalves mendes's 2010 documentary josé y pilar, a gorgeous, touching film about saramago and his wife, pilar del rio.

every day has its story, a single minute would take years to describe, as would the smallest gesture, the careful peeling away of each word, each syllable, each sound, not to mention thoughts, which are things of great substance, thinking about what you think or thought or are thinking, and about what kind of thought it is exactly that thinks about another thought, it's never-ending.

*beautifully rendered into english by saramago's long-time translator, margaret jull costa

[José Carlos Gomes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Esta obra não é apenas um romance. É também, e sobretudo, uma lição de dignidade. A vida miserável dos trabalhadores rurais alentejanos durante a ditadura salazarista é o pano de fundo para uma história, escrita no que se convencionou chamar de registo neo-realista, em que José Saramago denuncia a colaboração da GNR e da Igreja Católica com os latifundiários e com o regime fascista.

Apesar da dicotomia bons/maus característica das obras neo-realistas, Levantado do Chão está a léguas de ser um trablho ligeiro. Ao longo das páginas vamos acompanhando quatro gerações da família Mau-Tempo, começando pelo patriarca bêbedo, Domingos, e acabando na sua bisneta, Maria Adelaide. A opressão, a miséria e a fome estão bem presentes, mas também a resistência dos trabalhadores, que ganham consciência e que lutam contra a indignidade para que o regime os empurrava.

Nos tempos que correm, é de leitura obrigatória, porque a exploração dos camponeses alentejanos podem bem ser vista como um exemplo da exploração de que são vítimas, actualmente, outros trabalhadores e a união que os faz levantar-se do chão é uma inspiração que devemos sorver. Além do mais, José Saramago brinda-nos com uma escrita que, por si só, é um deleite. Irónico, mordaz, mas igualmente sensível, o autor oferece-nos um registo em que a própria linguagem narrativa se adequa ao quadro que é descrito. Uma obra sublime, que me penitencio por não ter lido mais cedo.

[José Simões · Rating 5 out of 5]

Saramago ganhou uma voz com este livro, que é como quem diz, com os camponeses do Alentejo. E quem já conheceu alguns deles, não os mesmos, claro, e também não os burgessos (que também os houve e há), sabe de onde vem a toada das histórias que se incluem aqui. Porque esta não é uma saga familiar. É, talvez, melhor dizendo uma amálgama de histórias e de instantâneos que se entretecem numa aproximação ao que durante muito tempo foi uma dura e triste realidade, de miséria e subjugação, que atravessou gerações e deixou profundas marcas em tanta gente. E, por outro lado, ficamos a pensar em quantas outras histórias, em quantos contadores, desapareceram e desaparecem todos os dias sem que se registe o que diziam e como o diziam. Até nisso, portanto, Saramago foi um grande escritor.

[Pollo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Deliciosa novela del maestro, con el clásico estilo saramaguiano de crítica social, pero esta vez no urbana (como en Ensayo sobre la ceguera, Todos los nombres, Las intermitencias de la muerte, Ensayo sobre la lucidez, El hombre duplicado) sino llevado a un mundo rural, a lo Ciro Alegría, de historias entecruzadas, orales, humor y dolor combinados, mezclado con una perspectiva de la historia de su país, un particular resumen de los avatares del siglo XX, desde antes de la Primera Guerra Mundial hastas después de la Revolución de los claveles, que complementa bien esa colección que podría denominarse "Historia de Portugal" y estaría conformada por Historia del cerco de Lisboa, Memorial del Convento, El año de la muerte de Ricardo Reis... Qué difícil es escoger el mejor libro del lusitano. Un milano que mira al resto por encima, tranquilo.

[Cara Heuser · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full disclosure--I love almost everything Saramago writes. Lines like "Lord in heaven, why can you not see these things, these men and women who, having invented a god, forgot to give him eyes, or perhaps did so on purpose, because no god is worthy of his creator, and should not, therefore, see him" are musical and profound. Saramago's ability to be both a crafter of beautiful sentences and a revealer of deep truths makes him a unique writer. This book has a few more paragraphs and periods than many of his others, which I enjoyed. Bonus--I learned something about the history of Portugal.