a novel approach: exploring Europe through books
Growing up, I never imagined I’d be a marine biologist. I’ve always loved the ocean, nature, and especially animals — but the thing that always made me feel most connected with the world, and most like myself, was reading.
My love for reading has always been deeply personal, while my love for science was something I discovered later, almost unexpectedly.
I laugh now when I think back to grade 12, when I took calculus “just for fun,” insisting it would be the last math class I’d ever take. When I started university, I had no intention of going into science and enrolled in business and English, thinking I might one day run my own bookstore.
I dropped out of the business program almost immediately after realizing it wasn’t for me. English, though, I loved. The discussions about the human condition and life’s struggles through the lens of great literature inspired me endlessly. But. . . I hated writing essays (yes, I see the irony) and I couldn’t imagine building a career around it. I started to spiral, unsure of what I wanted to do with my degree, my career, my life.
In my second year at UVic, I decided to try something completely different: science courses — chemistry, biology, calculus, as well as linguistics and psychology. After just a few biology classes, I became completely enamored with the natural worlds we were learning about. Beyond that, I discovered I enjoyed the structure and analytical nature of the sciences. It felt like I’d found my calling, and I’ve pursued it fully ever since.
Sometimes I wonder where I’d be now if I had started on this path earlier, but I don’t regret the roundabout way it came into my life. I’ve always valued having a multitude of interests, and I firmly believe that everything I’ve ever read has helped me in some way, taught me empathy, or given me new perspectives. And I think being a well-rounded person with varied interests makes me a better scientist.
I want to incorporate my passion for reading into the next two years, and I think a fun way to do this would be to read a book by an author from every country I visit!
I’m starting this reading challenge with Portugal, and I’ve chosen Death with Interruptions by Nobel laureate José Saramago (translated from the original Portuguese: As Intermitências da Morte).
Saramago is known for his unique stream-of-consciousness style, characterized by long sentences, minimal punctuation, and the absence of proper capitalization. I love when authors play with syntax, and this is what initially drew me to Saramago. The book itself poses an intriguing question that hooked me instantly: “What would happen if nobody died?”
This question is explored in a nameless country at an unknown time in history, though while reading, I liked to imagine it was set in Portugal. Initially, the absence of death seems like a blessing, but Saramago deftly examines the societal, political, and personal upheavals that arise from the disruption of natural mortality. The narrative follows the consequences of this strange new reality and takes a philosophical turn when death, personified, decides to resume her work—but with a new approach.
As I read Death with Interruptions, I couldn’t help but feel its connection to Portugal’s cultural affinity for introspection, especially through saudade—that melancholic longing for something that may never return. The novel’s themes of disrupted natural cycles and existential uncertainty mirror this feeling, as the world grapples with the consequences of death’s sudden absence. Like fado, Portugal’s traditional music, the novel carries a deep reflection on mortality and the passage of time. There’s a shared emotional undercurrent in both, a quiet contemplation of life’s transience and what it means to live when the familiar rhythms of life and death are disturbed.
Death with Interruptions challenged my perspective on life and death in unexpected ways, even if parts of the narrative felt a bit dense. Despite some lengthy philosophical musings, Saramago’s creativity and unique style kept me engaged. It's a novel that makes you question how closely life and death are intertwined and what it truly means to live.
Next up, I’ll be searching for books by Belgian and Italian authors—bonus points if the story is set in Ghent, Belgium, or Ancona, Italy! If you have any suggestions, please send them my way.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading my bookish musings.