Wanderlino
Arruda
As
Bess Sondel so eloquently states,
Words can evoke every emotion
possible: shock, joy, terror,
happiness, nostalgia, peace…
Words have such terrifying power,
they can drag one down to apathy
or shoot you up to delirium, they
can exalt to extreme moral and
esthetic experiences. This is
the most absolute truth. I don’t
think there is a living soul anywhere
that doubts it. Words have a force,
a resistance, a power that supplants
almost everything else that exists
in the world. Armies, Dynasties,
Republics… these all pass,
but words, words are never lost.
They are eternal, firmer than
the granite of ancient monuments
and palaces. The words of Socrates,
tran scripted by Plato, supplanted
all Greek government with its
military and civil works. The
majestic pyramids and sphinx of
Egypt will one day turn to dust,
but the words inscribed in the
Book of the Dead will never disappear.
It
is probably because of this, that
we have at our disposition, in
the Portuguese language, a word
that, in the entire world, has
no equal in sense, meaning and
semantic force, as much power
in the denotative sense (if this
is possible) as well as the connotative
sense, as the word saudade, its
origin as murky and obscure as
the depths of the Portuguese oceans,
as dark, deep and mysterious as
the virginity of the Amazon jungle,
or as scalding as African Angola
and Mozambique, also speakers
of the Lusitanian language.
So,
then… Let me ask you. Where
exactly does the word saudade
come from? From the Latin solitate,
meaning solitude, loneliness?
Or from the Arabian saudah? Perhaps
the ancient Spanish soydade, suydade?
Even Antenor Nascentes, who was
our leading expert in etymology,
doesn’t quite convince us
in his explanation of the word’s
beginning. Could it have been
derived from the Portuguese word
saúde, which means health,
because it looks like a phonetic
analogy? I really doubt it.
So,
not being possible, at the present
time, to define where this strange
and magnetic word came from, we
at least have the satisfaction
and honor of having it securely
within the domain of our Portuguese
vocabulary. This, we can do without
fear of interference from any
language found in or out of the
Latin family of languages. The
French word solitude, exactly
the same as in English, is far
from expressing the feeling that
saudade represents to us. The
Esperanto words, (re)sopiro and
rememoro are also just as far
from defining what we mean when
we use the word saudade. They
are miles away from expressing
the semantic treasure we tap when
we use it.
And,
by the way, just what is saudade?
It’s an emotion that should
dwell within the heart of all
humanity, of all races, rich or
poor, and in every country of
the world. Saudade doesn’t
choose, it doesn’t discriminate,
it doesn’t have to beg for
permission to present itself.
It can come as softly as a breeze
or as terrifying as a thunderbolt
out of the blue, arriving when
we least expect. Saudade is solitude’s
best friend, close companion,
inseparable lover, invisible visit
of friendship, sometimes smoldering
coals of passion, and in many
cases, a suave perfume, shared
moments of tenderness.
To
tell the truth, it’s not
easy to define the feeling-meaning
of saudade. And, it may be for
this alone, that it exists only
as an icon of the mystic Portuguese
language. Saudade is even more
exalted in the Brazilian dialect,
this marvelous mixture of three
great primordial races. White
European, Black African and Tupi
Amerindian. Saudade is a pain
that suffocates the heart and
gratifies the soul. Saudade is
the presence of the absent, the
memory of the loved one, a sort
of bittersweet, give and take
arrangement of convenience with
distance, a joyful, pleasant sorrow
of the seen-unseen, of love, in
the absence of the beloved.
