Claiming to be blind so she may be interned with her husband, she eventually becomes the guide and protector for an improvised family.

Throughout the narrative, one character remains sighted, the ophthalmologist's wife. Sightless people rove in packs, scavenging for food, sleeping wherever they can.

When the hospital is consumed in flames, the fleeing internees find that everyone has gone blind. As order at the mental hospital breaks down and the contagion spreads, the depraved overpower the decent. Like Camus, to whom he cannot help being compared, Saramago uses the social disintegration of people in extremis as a crucible in which to study the combustion of our vices and virtues. The government interns the blind, as well as those exposed to them, in an abandoned mental hospital guarded by an army with orders to shoot any detainee who tries to escape. Like any inexplicable contagion, this plague of ''white sickness'' sets off panic. By the time it does, his field of vision is white, a ''milky sea.'' One by one, each person the man encounters-the not-so-good Samaritan who drives him home, the man's wife, the ophthalmologist, the patients waiting to see the ophthalmologist-is struck blind. At the novel's opening, a driver sits in traffic, waiting for the light to change. Here, Saramago stalks two of our oldest themes in the tale of a plague of blindness that strikes an unnamed European city.

His previous works have rewritten the history of Portugal, reimagined the life of Christ and remodeled a continent by cleaving the Iberian peninsula from Europe and setting it adrift. Brilliant Portuguese fabulist Saramago (The History of the Siege of Lisbon) has never shied away from big game.

The blindness jose saramago