Individal Identity in Catastrophe
"
We're so remote from the world that any day now, we shall no longer know who we are, or even remember our names, and besides, what use would names be to us, no dog recognizes another dog or knows the others by the names they have been given, a dog is identified by its scent and that is how it identifies others, here we are like another breed of dogs, we know each other’s bark or speech, as for the rest, features, colour of eyes or hair, they are of no importance, it is as if they did not exist.
"
(Saramago, 1995).
From this excerpt, Saramago directly tells us the impact the pandemic has had on individual identities. In particular, we are told that in time, those stricken with the virus will eventually have it consume them entirely: they will forget their names and any physical attribute they once held. In other words, they will no longer know of their identity outside of the virus.
"
They ran in vain. One after the other they were stricken with blindness, their eyes suddenly drowned in that hideous white tide inundating the corridors, the wards, the entire space. Out there in the hallway, in the yard, the blind internees, helpless, some badly bruised from the blows, others from being trampled, dragged themselves along, most of them were elderly, many women and children, being with few or no defences, and it was nothing short of a miracle that there were not more corpses in need of burial. Scattered on the ground, apart from some shoes that had lost their feet, lie bags, suitcases, baskets, each individual's bit of wealth, lost for ever, anyone coming across these objects will insist that what he is carrying is his.
An old man with a black patch over one eye, came in from the yard. He, too, had either lost his luggage or had not brought any. He had been the first to stumble over the corpses, but he did not cry out. He remained beside them and waited for peace and silence to be restored. He waited for an hour. Now it is his turn to seek shelter. Slowly, with his arms outstretched, he searched for the way. He found the door of the first ward on the right-hand side, heard voices coming from within, then asked,
Any chance of a bed here?
"
(Saramago, 1995).
In this passage, Saramago uses the first half to depict a scene of chaos and hopelessness. The torment of first experiencing the loss of vision, the trampled children and elderly, the embezzlement of any form of wealth, Saramago uses all these instances to create an overall sense of senselessness pandemonium. However, almost as a ray of hope in a dark storm, Saramago introduces the old man with a black eye patch over one eye. In a setting where the virus has completely taken over the minds, and vision, of each individual, there lays but one character who remains psychologically intact. More specifically, from the moment he is introduced, the old man with the black eye patch is the symbol of an intact self-identity. Saramago uses this character throughout the book to exemplify how amid the catastrophic pandemic, one can still remain human and not allow this sickness to characterize their existance.