Lucidity in Times of Disinformation: A Review of José Saramago’s Ensaio sobre a Lucidez

Lucidity in Times of Disinformation: A Review of José Saramago’s Ensaio sobre a Lucidez

José Saramago’s Lucidity (Ensaio sobre a Lucidez), published in 2004, is a bold literary allegory that serves as both a follow up and a spiritual twin to Blindness (Ensaio sobre a Cegueira). While Blindness explored a metaphysical epidemic of literal blindness to critique human indifference and the fragility of civilization, Lucidity turns its gaze to political systems and the mechanisms of democracy, transparency, and power. The narrative begins with an extraordinary event: during a local election in the capital, an overwhelming majority of voters cast blank ballots. The government is shaken. What follows is a paranoid, authoritarian response that reveals more about the nature of state power than any campaign ever could.

This philosophical political fable is a deeply ironic meditation on the gap between democracy as an ideal and democracy as it is practiced. Saramago uses his trademark long sentences, sparse punctuation, and deeply reflective narration to invite the reader into a dialogue rather than deliver a clear-cut message. The novel’s tone is sharp, often absurdist, and persistently skeptical of the state’s claim to legitimacy, particularly when it feels threatened by citizens who act with unshakable integrity or, worse, with silence.

A curious and emblematic moment appears on page 88 of the Portuguese edition, where Saramago resists the tide of English words in modern language, humorously transliterating “walkie-talkies” into “olqui-toquis.” This small act is more than just a linguistic joke. It signals Saramago’s broader resistance to cultural imperialism and the uncritical adoption of dominant narratives, whether in language, media, or politics. In a novel about systemic opacity and citizen resistance, even language becomes a site of subtle rebellion.

In our current moment, flooded by digital misinformation, ideological polarization, and algorithmically amplified falsehoods, Lucidity resonates with chilling clarity. Today’s political environment is saturated with noise where “truth” can be tailored to fit belief, and apathy is often the product of overload rather than ignorance. The citizen who chooses to vote blank in Saramago’s tale is not disengaged, but hyper-aware, choosing silence as a radical stance. This quiet refusal is met not with reform or introspection, but with repression and suspicion. The parallel with today’s whistleblowers, dissenters, or even skeptical voters is striking.

Your favorite quote in the book:

“I have learnt from the experience of this role that half words exist to tell what the full words cannot say”

It perfectly captures the core of Saramago’s stylistic and political intent. In Lucidity, ambiguity is not a weakness but a space of resistance. When the official discourse grows bloated with euphemisms and strategic omissions, half-words and silences become tools of honesty or dishonesty. The novel insists that there are truths too dangerous to be said plainly and systems that will do anything to suppress those who try.