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masha_and_the_cat's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
slow-paced
4.75
claudiasilva1990's review against another edition
4.0
In this work, "Pequenas Memórias", José Saramago brings us a piece of his young himself.
In spite of his characteristic and pleasurable prose, and due to an intentional rigor non chronological, I missed a leading thread in the author's memories.
In spite of his characteristic and pleasurable prose, and due to an intentional rigor non chronological, I missed a leading thread in the author's memories.
alijc's review against another edition
3.0
A memoir of his childhood. Impoverished, at least in terms of money.
bookwomble's review against another edition
4.0
Small memories because they are of his childhood and adolescence, and because they are not momentous, other than in a personal way. However, Saramago uses these small memories to reflect (however briefly) upon the nature of memory and subjective reality, and of how seemingly trivial incidents in early life have significant repercussions for the adults we become.
The short reflections on sexual awakening, of his drunken aunt's onanism, and of his sexualized torture by a group of older boys (uncomfortably reminicent of the tragic case of Jamie Bulger) make this for the slightly older reader, though I would stress that the details are not overly graphic nor at all lurid. Mostly, this is a wistful remembrance of childhood and of the inevitable passage of time. In the same vein as [b:Cider With Rosie|292314|Cider With Rosie|Laurie Lee|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1486317080s/292314.jpg|1401317] by [a:Laurie Lee|79787|Laurie Lee|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1325510162p2/79787.jpg], though not, to my mind, as effective. 3.5 stars
The short reflections on sexual awakening, of his drunken aunt's onanism, and of his sexualized torture by a group of older boys (uncomfortably reminicent of the tragic case of Jamie Bulger) make this for the slightly older reader, though I would stress that the details are not overly graphic nor at all lurid. Mostly, this is a wistful remembrance of childhood and of the inevitable passage of time. In the same vein as [b:Cider With Rosie|292314|Cider With Rosie|Laurie Lee|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1486317080s/292314.jpg|1401317] by [a:Laurie Lee|79787|Laurie Lee|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1325510162p2/79787.jpg], though not, to my mind, as effective. 3.5 stars
kimberwolf's review against another edition
3.0
In Small Memories, Saramago shares random snippets of his childhood and teenage memories growing up primarily in Lisbon with his parents, interspersed with visits to the village that was his birthplace and in which his grandparents still lived - Azinhaga. The bursts of memory are not arranged in any sort of order that I could discern and there are no chapters, only a single line of space in between each remembrance; even though it's a very short book – less than 200 pages – the lack of sections made it a little bit more difficult to read.
I appreciated the stories of his time in Azinhaga more than the memories he shared of life in Lisbon: fishing, tending farm animals, and descriptions of olive groves and rivers appealed to me more than the stories of a series of cramped apartments, neighborhood bullies, and school and friendship (or lack of) anxiety. I also appreciated the perspective of how Lisbon and Azinhaga both changed and grew over time; the poignancy of visiting a beloved place frequented in childhood for which we have fond memories and being confronted with how drastically that place has changed over time – sometimes to the point that it's no longer recognizable.
Saramago's recall is often misty or fuzzy, as is mine already when thinking about this particular book. I'm not sure what I expected – the title is “small memories” after all and that is what the reader is presented with but, still, I'm feeling a little underwhelmed by this one.
I appreciated the stories of his time in Azinhaga more than the memories he shared of life in Lisbon: fishing, tending farm animals, and descriptions of olive groves and rivers appealed to me more than the stories of a series of cramped apartments, neighborhood bullies, and school and friendship (or lack of) anxiety. I also appreciated the perspective of how Lisbon and Azinhaga both changed and grew over time; the poignancy of visiting a beloved place frequented in childhood for which we have fond memories and being confronted with how drastically that place has changed over time – sometimes to the point that it's no longer recognizable.
Saramago's recall is often misty or fuzzy, as is mine already when thinking about this particular book. I'm not sure what I expected – the title is “small memories” after all and that is what the reader is presented with but, still, I'm feeling a little underwhelmed by this one.
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