It is one of the greatest masterpieces of Portuguese literature. Portrays the gentle manners of Portugal. The idiosyncrasies of an era. The lyrical love between Charles and Eduarda.
I am biased person when concerns the work of Eça de Queiroz. I like this book so much that I reread often, at the most strange occasions. Drop everything and dive in the history of the house of the Bouquet. From the cursed manner of the Maia family. It is a great novel. It reflects the way we as a people be both a tragic-comic, a bit sarcastic, a bit provincial, a little sad and resigned to his fate. Let’s talk about the characters. Personally, though, I have certain affection for the romantic couple in this story, they are not really the characters that I enjoy most.
The grandfather, Alfonso, in my view, captures the best features of the Portuguese. His great generosity, a sense of pride, courage and stubbornness, wrapped in a layer of tenderness and compassion. A man faithful to its origins. Loyal to his friends. In opposite spectrum, we have the pseudo-poet, Ega. The charming womanizer. Always with the certain gestures and sticky words on the tip of this tongue. The typical Portuguese trickster that does not aspire to truly work, but live at the expense of others, and perhaps fame as a heartthrob and to be a writer in his spare time. Cursed by the husbands and always blessed by the women, even those who only read it. We justify all the adventures he gets involved. Forgave him everything. Why? I do not now! The third character, which in any way we can ignore, is the bouquet. The home of the Maias. The walls reflect the various cadences of the family tragedy that lies ahead and that culminates in the death of the patriarch. Its decline sublimes the dramatic story, much to the taste of the author, written with a perversity and at the same splendor, provoking intensely suffering to all his characters. I would even say that Eça was somewhat masochistic and brilliant at the same time. Of lyrical taste, little or nothing. Good reading.
