Blindness

It's about time the film version of Blindness, José Saramago's landmark 1995 novel, is finally seeing the light of day. After so many people tried unsuccessfully to attain the rights from Saramago over the years, the pursuit of many has now culminated in the vision of Brazilian director, Fernando Meirelles. I can only speculate that Saramago, now 85, with his eminent departure breathing down his neck, deemed the relinquishing of film rights as the last shot at mass dissemination of his cautionary message. After all, what other purpose does a writer of parables have for themselves than to warn humanity? Or perhaps he just wanted a bit more money to spend on his final days. As a self-described Communist, I doubt that would be the case.

Whatever the circumstance, I have some serious reservations about what the public’s reaction to the film may be. It would be an easy, yet gross mistake seeing this movie as just another apocalyptic film. The metaphorical essence gets lost so easily with moving pictures, that it is near impossible to create any philosophical element that is accessible to the general viewer.

It’s a common thing to examine the film independent of the source, especially when most people have no idea who José Saramago is, but it would be an absolute sin to exclude his name in any sort of analysis of this movie. He is one of the greatest living writers and one of my all time favorites, deserving much more than the Nobel Prize he received in 1998. His works are an absolute toil to get through, no matter which language you try to read them in, but in the end, are worth every painstaking page. His style is sadistically obtuse – long run-on sentences without punctuation, page-long paragraphs, elaborate lists, and whimsical tangents, have made Saramago a product for elitist intellectuals. The movie will no doubt change this, bringing his work to the masses, albeit a few degrees of interpretation removed from the original intent. My advice, read the book. And while you’re at it, read his follow up On Seeing; it’s actually quite fitting for the times.

Blindness is scheduled for US theatrical release September 2008.

Kübler Absinthe

I purchased a bottle of Kübler absinthe the other night, figuring it was a good place to start as they were practically responsible for breaking down the prohibition in America. This absinthe has long been praised for its efforts in keeping with original (pre-prohibition) recipes, and continues to be championed by absinthe traditionalists. There are two kinds of absinthe drinkers, those who relish in being part of the drink’s history, and those in search for the unusual kind of buzz absinthe has long been rumoured to deliver; this absinthe definitely suits the former demographic. At $55 a bottle, Kübler is the most affordable of the legal absinthes, domestic or imported. Although the price may sound steep, buying the same bottle through most European retailers will cost between $25 to $35 just to ship into the US (due to the high cost of shipping liquids). With five years of semi-regular absinthe consumption under my belt and absolutely no preconceptions, I took my finely tuned palate to this little demon.

Color: Absolutely clear, but louches to a very milky white. Very impressive actually.

Nose: A hodge-podge of herbs, mainly anise, in the midst of a heavily alcoholic essence.

Taste: Top notes of melissa with a heavy anise kick upfront, mid notes of hyssop, bottom notes of alcohol and herbal numbness. A strange creamy texture, much like skim milk or a rich horchata.

Thujone: They can't really label the thujone content (being that it's not an easy thing to measure precisely) In any case, it's 10mg/liter or less, as that's the legal limit in the US.

Alcohol: 53% - 106 Proof

Overall: 7.5/10 Maybe I'm spoiled from drinking some of the better European varieties, packing an average of 35-45 mg/liter of thujone, but this thing had absolutely no kick for me. The law of diminishing returns definitely applies to the thujone/alcohol scale. The more one drinks, the more thujone one gets, but also the more intoxicated one becomes, and once the alcohol overpowers the thujone, then nothing else really matters. You're just going to bed at that point. I must say, this is one of the most traditional absinthes on the market, either domestically available or European. If that’s your kick, then definitely give this a try. But if you’re after the Green Fairy, save your money for something a little more powerful and perhaps a bit less legal.