All the Names

by José Saramago

Ariadne’s thread.

It must be said, however, that his having to obey that principle of equality is a relief to his methodical nature, despite the fact that, in this case, the principle works against him, even though, to tell the truth, he wishes he was not always the one who had to climb the ladder in order to change the covers on the old files, especially since, as we have already mentioned, he suffers from a fear of heights.

So many modifiers!

This might just be coincidence, there are, after all, so many coincidences in life, for one cannot see any close or immediate relationship between that fact and a sudden need for secrecy, but it is well known that the human mind very often makes decisions for reasons it clearly does not know, presumably because it does so after having travelled the paths of the mind at such speed that, afterwards, it cannot recognise those paths, let alone find them again. Anyway, whether or not that is the explanation,

So tentative, like Grandpa telling you a story he can't be sure he remembers, or whether you'll believe it anyway.

Meanwhile, covered in dust, with the heavy tatters of spiders’ webs clinging to his hair and shoulders, Senhor José finally

they know all too well that there is nothing anyone can do about death,

Except wouldn't Saramago, from Catholic Portugal, believe in the redemption by prayer?

in the middle of the cemetery, amid a multitude of sheep

Ha! Yes, when we are dead we are sheep.

He was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, waiting for it to ask him, Why are you looking at me, but the ceiling ignored him, it merely observed him, expressionless.

It all ends up in the rubbish bin, said Senhor José, without quite knowing, at that precise moment, if he meant lost reputations or his clippings collection.