What a fine writer John Berger (1926-2017) was. It's unfortunate I only discovered him after his death. This little book seems to be an outsider in his oeuvre: it is a very original collection of memories of close friends and relatives, wrapped in meandering stories. The captivating opening story, "Lisboa", is bathed in a magically realistic atmosphere that does justice to both the city and its philosophical underlay: in Lisbon, Berger to his surprise meets his mother, who has been dead for 15 years; while they wander through the city, they reminisce, his mother tells about the wisdom she learned after her death (!), and so it shouldn’t surprise that the saudade is also discussed. In another 7 very diverse stories Berger gives insights into his personal life and into the essence of life itself. I pick up 2 more that struck me particularly. The fourth, “Some Fruit as Remembered by the Dead” gives a very sensuous description of fruit; it is an ode to the seemingly ordinary, which immediately reminded me of André Gide's 'Nourritures Terrestres'. And the closing story "The Szum and the Ching" seems to be going nowhere in its endless meandering associations, but is in a beautiful evocation of the fragility and beauty of life. Great writer!