Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet


Fernando-Pessoa[quote source= »Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet » rating= »0″]I am the suburb of a non-existent town, the prolix commentary on a book never written. I am nobody, nobody. I am a character in a novel which remains to be written, and I float, aerial, scattered without ever having been, among the dreams of a creature who did not know how to finish me off.[/quote]


3 réponses à “Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

  1. Coincidentally, I was re-reading this book on March 9 in a suburb of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Here, as in countless suburbs up and down the country, the locals dress shabbily, their houses and shops, for the most part, are struggling to keep up appearances. They wobble, they waddle, they lurch and they limp; nearly all have bad posture, bad hairdos, many have persisted with styles that are no longer fashionable, or that simply don’t suit them now they’re older, like earrings or tattoos or spiky hair. Looking at their faces as they pass, my impression is that their lives must be monotonous and lacking stimulation or cheer. Many would find comfort perhaps in the words of Pessoa’s protagonist, Bernardo Soares, a dreary soul but no fool: ‘May I always be blessed with the monotony, the dull sameness of identical days, my indistinguishable todays and yesterdays.’ This, all the better to delight in the simple surprises that occasionally come his way and in the power of his imagination. His conclusion to this thought is inspirational: ‘Because I am nothing, I can imagine myself to be anything.’ Then adds, ‘If I were somebody, I wouldn’t be able to.’

    • I don’t know. I think it would need to be more upbeat for that. I’ve tried to read it twice, never got beyond the first hundred pages because I began to find its narrator tediously dreary.

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