Warning: soppy post. On language, on José Saramago, who makes me cry

There are three days I can safely say were the happiest days of my life. The day Saramago won the Nobel Prize of Literature was one of them. I remember I woke up and turned the TV on and there was news in every channel about Saramago. It wasn't clear to me he had actually won. I thought, 'leave the man alone, for Christ sake. He's been nominated for years, we already know he never wins, no need to rub it in!'. When I finallly realised that the reason why everybody couldn't stop talking about him was because he had actually won the Nobel, I felt immense gratitude and admiration. For me, Saramago receiving the Nobel was a victory for the Portuguese language itself and for all the other great Portuguese writers who turn their language into art with every book they write. I will always be thankful and happy for that.

I generally feel very detached from my country. I hate this feeling and I struggle every day to make myself feel connected to this land. However, I've always felt extremely close to the Portuguese language and I think I can safely say that the only Portuguese thing I truly love and would be sorry to live without is the language. It's a funny, sad, sweet, strange, strong language full of consonants and hardly any open vowels which sounds harsh, ugly, wrong (I'm told it sounds slavonic or russian or polish, so on and so forth) and it has just got this amazing strong personality that I simply love. I'm always amazed at how one can feel so detached from the country, but so close to the language. When Saramago won, I felt my language was winning as well, a language not many people speak, not many people know, not many people care about (not even Portuguese people themselves). But for those who do love Portuguese literature and language, the Nobel felt like a great victory.

This video shows Saramago crying after having seen a special screening of Blindness, the film based on his book, which was directed by Fernando Meirelles (the one from Cidade de Deus) and which is supposed to be quite bad, although I don't really care whether the film is good or bad, I'm still going to see it when it opens. Saramago tells Fernando he is as happy after having seen the movie as he was after he wrote the book, and that's when Fernando kisses him in the forehead, saying he is very happy Saramago feels that way.
José Saramago is old and soon he will become a memory. A strong memory - he won the Nobel, his books are already studied at school, he has already received his accolades - but a memory nevertheless. It is nice to know that, while he is still alive, people read his books and comment on his books and make movies out of his books. Ultimately, it is also a celebration of language, and that is really nice to know.