Wow, what a book. Again, why do I not just read all his books. Another Vonnegut.
Granted this is only book #2 of his I've read, so maybe it's a fluke that I picked his two best? (The first I read was The Double.) This one is just so good.
Spoilers:
So death (lower-case) takes a holiday. For more than seven months! No one in the unnamed country died during that entire time. But people were still dying. Undertakers were worried. Old folks homes. The maphia (with /ph/). Laws were changed.
An enterprising family tried an experiment: Take practically dead grandpa across the border and if he dies, you no longer have to care for him. And take your dying child, too. The maphia decides this is a good business practice, arranges with the government to run these cross-border trips, then is all semper gumby when death gets back to work.
Death does get back to work. With a new twist to her (yes, her) modus operandi: Each person would get a letter, written on violet paper and wrapped in a violet envelope, warning them they have a week to live, so get your shit in order!
This violet mail goes on for a while until suddenly, one of death's letters gets returned. But how!? Death delivers the letter the next day. Also returned! This mystery is what sets death on her mission for the last third of the book, to discover why some unknown 1st chair cellist isn't getting her letters.
And then, one of the loveliest, most moving falling-in-love I've read in a long time. And yes, the following day, no one died.
Spoilers done.
I'm thinking my next Saramago must be Blindness.
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