Product Description

Cipriano Algor, an aging potter, lives with his daughter and her husband in the shadow of the Centre, a nebulous, constantly expanding conglomerate that provides his livelihood - until it decrees that it is no longer interested in his humble wares. Together with his daughter, they craft a new line of small ceramic figurines and, to their bafflement, the Centre orders cast quantities. But once the figures are complete, the Centre recants: there is no market for them. Resigned to idleness, Cipriano moves to a soulless megaplex, until late one night he comes across a horrifying secret in the bowels of the artificial city. "The Cave" is a harrowing, joyful masterpiece: an Orwellian nightmare, a family fable and an uplifting love story.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #32110 in Books
• Published on: 2003-11-06
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 352 pages

Independent
A novel with impact... hope and charm

About the Author
Jose Saramago was born in Portugal in 1922. His plays, poetry, memoirs, and novels have been translated into more than 20 languages. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1998.

Customer Reviews

A retelling of Plato's Allegory of the Cave, and a warning
In this metaphysical and surrealistic novel, Saramago transforms Plato's Allegory of the Cave into a contemporary novel about Cipriano Algor, a man in his sixties who lives in a small village, where he practices his trade as a potter. Living in tune with nature as he digs clay from the earth, works it with his hands, and fires it in an old, family-owned kiln, Cipriano suddenly finds himself without a livelihood when a mysterious and all-powerful Center rejects his real pottery in favor of longer-lasting plastic. And when Cipriano's real life in his small village is also sacrificed for a totally controlled life in an apartment in the Center, Saramago vividly illustrates how the shadows of artificial things are often mistaken for reality in contemporary society, which does not favor "inquisitive ones," searching for life's essence.

Despite the novel's allegorical structure and didactic message, Saramago creates warm characters who inspire the belief that the good, kind, and sensitive souls of the world can survive, and perhaps triumph on some level. Love and family matter here, despite Cipriano's belief that he is "merely the largest of the bits of clay [in the yard], a small dry clod that will crumble with the slightest pressure." Though he is a molder of clay, he recognizes that there are also forces being exerted on him.

Filled with meditations on literature, reading, the creative process, experimentation, and individuality, the novel is both intellectually exciting and very challenging. Unfortunately, Saramago's style is more daunting than his message. Omitting all quotation marks, question marks, and the conventions of paragraphing and sentence structure, he challenges the reader to distill the reality of his message from the shadows of his style.

Dialogue involving three characters, internal comments on the dialogue by the author, shifts in point of view (even including the dog's view, on occasion), in addition to the on-going developing action, often take place within a single, page-long sentence. Page after page of unbroken, gray type give the reader little "breathing room" and often require rereading, a process reminiscent of Cipriano's working in his pottery and reworking his clay to get it right. Readers considering this book will want to take the time to look up Plato's Allegory of the Cave (many copies of which are available on-line) in order to appreciate its intricacies fully. Mary Whipple

Solid But Not Outstanding
Nobel Prize meets The Matrix in Saramago's parable of modern capitalism, which urges the reader to reject the materialist worldview increasingly embraced around the world and forge their own path. The only other book of his I've read is Blindness (which is an outstanding work), and this novel shares that one's setting of an unnamed country in the near future. Outside an unnamed city, an old man makes pottery, which he brings into town to tell at "The Center"-a kind of megalith mall which is slowly enveloping the city around it. A combination Walmart and Mall of the Americas, The Center sells everything one needs (one of their creepy slogans is "We Have What You Need, But We Prefer You Need What We Have), and houses apartments, amusements, and everything one needs to enjoy life, including simulated snow storms. Almost everyone aspires to live in the Center, so as to be closer to all these attract/distractions.

The framework of the sparse story is that The Center cancels their standing order with the potter, forcing him to confront his dying trade. Without any other market to sell to, he and his daughter try to convince The Center to buy ceramic dolls instead. When they agree and order 1,200 dolls, the duo must race to mass produce this new item in their old-fashioned workshop. An additional tension is added by the daughter's husband, who wants them all to move to The Center, where he works as a security guard. Other subplots include the appearance of a stray dog and a local widow's interest in the potter. The story is a something restrained critique of consumerist culture, with sharp digs and jabs here and there, and an overarching reference to Plato's Cave (if you don't know what that is, you'll want to read up on it online), but Saramago seems somewhat more interested in the small family and how they interact. It's a warm portrait of a group of people struggling to keep their heads above water in a mildly dystopian future. Especially endearing are the passages written from the dog's perspective.

The satire of The Center is pretty straightforward, with its control of what gets bought and sold, creepily cheery slogans, and officials who are masters of doublespeak (one line from a buyer goes something like "There is no secret of the bee, but we know what it is."). What is somewhat interesting (as Saramago is well known Communist) is that the same satirical points can (and have) been made against planned economies such as that of the former Soviet Union. The ending is appropriately ambiguous, leaving open the question as to whether or not there is any future in such a world.

It should be noted that the writing style is very distinctive, with little punctuation, no quote marks to delineate speech versus thought, no breaks to indicate who the speaker is, and paragraphs that run for pages and pages. You're either going to love it or hate it in that it'll either make for labored reading or complete immersion reading (our book group split right down the middle on this). Altogether, it's a solid bit of craft, it's not as brilliant as Blindness.

Another cracker from Saramago
Saramago's surreal novels are a joy. This is probably not quite as good as "blindness" and "all the names" but still enchantingly strange.