Cataract

by John Berger, Selçuk Demirel (Illustrator)

The great art critic and writer John Berger joined forces again with Turkish writer and illustrator Selçuk Demirel in this unexpected pictorial essay.

What happens when an art critic loses some of his sight to cataracts? What wonders are glimpsed once vision is restored?

In this impressionistic essay written in the spirit of Montaigne, John Berger, whose treatises on seeing have shaped cultural and media studies for four decades, records the effects of cataract removal operations on each of his eyes. The result is an illuminated take on perception. Berger ponders how we can become accustomed to a loss of sense until a dulled world becomes the norm, and describes the sudden richness of reawakened sight with acute attention to sensory detail.

This wise little book beckons us to pay close attention to our own senses and wonder at their significance as we follow Berger's journey into a more vivid, differentiated way of seeing. Demirel's witty illustrations complement the text, creating a mini-world where eyes take on whimsical lives of their own. The result is a collaborative collectors' piece perfect for every reader’s bedside table.

This title completes a trilogy of books by Berger and Demirel. Smoke was published in 2018, and What Time Is It? was published in 2019.

Genres: Art, Nonfiction, Essays, Memoir, Literature, Philosophy, Biography

64 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2011

About the author

John Peter Berger was an English art critic, novelist, painter and author. His novel G. won the 1972 Booker Prize, and his essay on art criticism Ways of Seeing, written as an accompaniment to a BBC series, is often used as a college text.

Later he was self exiled to continental Europe, living between the french Alps in summer and the suburbs of Paris in winter. Since then, his production has increased considerably, including a variety of genres, from novel to social essay, or poetry. One of the most common themes that appears on his books is the dialectics established between modernity and memory and loss,

Another of his most remarkable works has been the trilogy titled Into Their Labours, that includes the books Pig Earth (1979), Once In Europa (1983) Lilac And Flag (1990). With those books, Berger makes a meditation about the way of the peasant, that changes one poverty for another in the city. This theme is also observed in his novel King, but there his focus is more in the rural diaspora and the bitter side of the urban way of life.

Reviews

[Schahin · Rating 3 out of 5]

کتاب آب مروارید با تصویرسازی‌های سلجوق دمرل، از یک تجربه‌ی کاملاً جسمانی شروع می‌شود: عمل آب مروارید. اما خیلی زود این تجربه به بهانه‌ای برای فکر کردن درباره‌ی «دیدن» تبدیل می‌شود؛ دیدن، از دست دادن دیدن، و تغییر رابطه‌ی انسان با جهان.
برجر وقتی از تاری دید حرف می‌زند، در واقع دارد از شکافی عمیق‌تر سخن می‌گوید: فاصله‌ای که میان انسان و واقعیت می‌افتد. این سؤال مدام در متن تکرار می‌شود، بی‌آنکه مستقیم مطرح شود: وقتی جهان کدر به نظر می‌رسد، آیا خود جهان تغییر کرده یا این دید ماست که دچار آب مروارید شده؟

یکی از نکات مهم کتاب، توجه به نقش قدرت، عادت و تکرار است. برجر نشان می‌دهد که چگونه زندگی روزمره، بدون آنکه متوجه شویم، دید ما را فرسوده می‌کند. ما کم‌کم به نادیدن عادت می‌کنیم و این نادیدن، انگار طبیعی‌ست.

برجر به شکلی بسیار ساده اما دقیق می‌گوید که دیدن یک عمل فعال است، نه یک امر بدیهی. دیدن نیاز به هوشیاری دارد؛ به انتخاب. از این نظر، آب مروارید بیش از آنکه درباره‌ی چشم باشد، درباره‌ی آگاهی است: درباره‌ی چیزهایی که نمی‌بینیم، نه چون وجود ندارند، بلکه چون به ندیدن‌شان خو گرفته‌ایم.

در نهایت، کتاب نه موعظه است و نه نظریه‌پردازی سنگین. بیشتر شبیه تأملاتی کوتاه و شخصی است که آرام‌آرام به پرسش‌هایی بزرگ‌تر می‌رسند. حتی می‌شود با کمی شیطنت فکر کرد که شاید این‌ها صرفاً یادداشت‌های روزانه‌ی برجر بعد از عمل بوده‌اند؛ و او کنجکاو بوده ببیند که خوانندگان بعداً چه معناهایی از آن بیرون می‌کشند. اما فارغ از نیت نویسنده، نتیجه متنی است که خواننده را وادار می‌کند دوباره به رابطه‌اش با دیدن، عادت‌ها و جهان فکر کند.

[Francisca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si bien la obra de John Berger, escritor inglés especialista en la crítica y teoría de arte, también pintor, nos ha proporcionado puntos de vista en referencia al mundo visual en el que nos hallamos envueltos, en este libro que publica la editorial Gustavo Gili nos ofrece una visión particular, única, llena de vida y color. Una visión personal, subjetiva. Y es que tras haber padecido una enfermedad en su visión, las cataratas, y tras haber sido operado de ellas, se dedicó a recoger las diversas impresiones y reflexiones que obtuvo por su paso.

Con la ayuda de los dibujos del ilustrador turco Selçuk Demirel, Berger nos adentra en un mundo donde la visión es el sujeto y, a su vez, el objetivo. Las ilustraciones de Demirel corresponden no solo a la visión de Berger, sino también a una visión única, la suya, que utiliza trazos simples, monocromos y curvilíneos, pero gravemente expresivos. Sus dibujos hacen de los textos del autor inglés algo que si bien podría haberse visto desde otro punto de vista como una pequeña novela gráfica, aquí se ven como obras únicas, sinceras e incluso agradablemente irónicas, que acompañan y se unifican al texto.

La importancia de la luz y de la vista nos indica cómo de imprescindibles se convierten en nuestra existencia, pues es gracias a ellas que hacemos posible lo visible y visible lo imposible.
Berger pasa por diversas etapas que nos llevan a descubrir un mundo de sensaciones en el que los sentidos cobran su mayor poder. Y es que, gracias a ellos, su autor también toma consciencia de sí mismo, haciendo así una consciencia de lo sensible, de lo que tocamos, de lo que oímos, de lo que olemos, de lo que saboreamos o de lo que él aún no ha podido ver del todo bien. Cabe destacar, por ejemplo, los paisajes reconstruidos que observamos desde la mirada de Berger. Sus vistas de París, sus vistas a obras de arte, a las cosas que contempla en la vida diaria. Su vista, perdida, se halla trastocada; se ha olvidado de sí misma. Y él, también.

La importancia del color azul, que podemos relacionar con la mente, el espíritu y lo etéreo, aquí también se asocia a lo que podría ser el sentido de la vista. Asombrado después de su operación, Berger lo dibuja; dibuja el color azul en forma de flor, un pensamiento cuyo significado es «no nos olvidemos». Con ello, ahora, es más libre, pues su visión se puede enfocar mejor en sus pensamientos, puede percibir mejor ya no solo lo que ve, sino lo que piensa.

La nitidez de las cosas, así como sus percepciones, vuelven y se renuevan en él. Se agudizan. Su paso tras las cataratas le aporta otra visión, otro modo de ver las cosas, de sentirlas y de palparlas. Ahora Berger es consciente de que otra visión es posible si le damos importancia a lo que hemos, o creemos haber, olvidado.

Publicado originalmente en Diarios Détour (http://diarios.detour.es/?p=5837)

[Tomas Psorn · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's just John Berger telling you what he sees, not bad at all. Only the illustrations are somewhat loosely bound to the text.

[Zachary · Rating 4 out of 5]

The length of this book is the time it takes to ride the DC metro from Takoma to Farragut North on a rainy day. It was an imaginative, endearing reflection. Sometimes a little too abstract, though often profound. The words, presented in bite size chunks, are paired with fun illustrations, which made me smile. The content is the poetry of visual philosophy. Fresh from watching the classic Ways of Seeing series, there was no other way to read it than aloud, in public, with Berger's special inflection.

[Yong Xiang · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's not so much that things appear better lit, but, rather that I'm acutely aware of how everything is surrounded by light. The element of air has become the element of light. Just as fish live and swim through water: we live and move through light.
-
With both cataracts removed, what I see with my eyes is now like a dictionary which I can consult about the precision of things. The thing in itself, and also its place among other things.

[Eloise Mcallister · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty cool. First time I’ve used university libraries for fun books! The revolution begins.

[Jessica (bean) · Rating 3 out of 5]

short and sweet. I appreciate my eyes

[Penélope Albornoz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesante ensayo de John Berger, el critico de arte, sobre su experiencia sensorial en el tiempo en que se hacía operar de cataratas.
El libro, en sí, es también una experiencia sensorial en la que combina palabras y dibujos para expresar lo sentido, intentando expresarse de la mejor manera posible para que les lectores podamos percibirlo.

• Cuando uno abre un diccionario y consulta una palabra, vuelve a encontrar o descubre por primera vez con exactitud esa palabra. No solo lo que denota exactamente la palabra, sino también su lugar exacto en la diversidad del lenguaje.
Con las dos cataratas eliminadas, lo que veo ahora con los ojos se parece a un diccionario en el que veo las cosas con toda exactitud. La cosa en sí y también su lugar entre las otras cosas.

[Moira Butler · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought this book was fascinating and the art was fun. Sure, it's kind of silly and rambly. It's just a guy talking about his vision. But it also makes me appreciate my vision a little more and gives me insight (hah!) into an experience I had honestly never thought much about.

[Eric · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit of Berger as aperitif to the living of life.

[Mb Hopkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

You literally can read this 67-page book (half of which are illustrations) in about 15 minutes. But don't let that lead you to think it doesn't have much to say. On the contrary, John Berger, a favorite writer of mine who also happens to be a visual artist, is incredibly perceptive. Susan Sontag says of Berger: "Not since D.H. Lawrence has there been a writer who offers such attentiveness to the imperatives of conscience."

A short collection of observations after the removal of cataracts from both eyes, Berger distills what it is like to see "anew," which is full of insight for any artist who is interested in the effects that aging has on seeing.

In addition to noting the difference between light and dark before and after surgery, Berger writes about the subtle differences he sees in the color blue, as well as the effect light has on distance perception.

As an artist myself who has noticed that what I see has changed over the years, coupled with being told by my eye doctor I have "baby cataracts," I know this book will have a permanent place in my studio library.

[Jack Rousseau · Rating 4 out of 5]

"In contemporary letters John Berger seems to me peerless; not since Lawrence has there been a writer who offers such attentiveness to the sensual world with responsiveness to the imperatives of conscience."
- Susan Sontag

This short book is a collection of notes and reflections "on the minor miracle of cataract surgery" by John Berger, with illustrations by Selçuk Demirel.



The author's preoccupation with sight is evident from numerous other books that deal directly or indirectly with the subject. Such as Ways of Seeing, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos,
and A Fortunate Man . Cataract may be shorter than these books, but it belongs in the same category. For these books alone, Berger is deserving of Sontag's praise for his "attentiveness to the sensual world".

Appropriately, Berger has dedicated the books to the department of Professor Baudouin at the Quinze-Vingts Eye Hospital in Paris and to Dr. Dupont-Monod.

The entries vary in their approach to cataract surgery, but all employ the author's eloquent style, his analytic inquisitiveness, his acute awareness of the idiosyncrasies of his subjective observations, and his "responsiveness to the imperatives of conscience"...

Cataract from Greek kataraktes, meaning waterfall or portcullis, an obstruction that descends from above. Portcullis in front of the left eye removed. On the right eye the cataract remains. (pg. 6)

With the right eye alone, everything looks worn, with the left eye alone, everything looks new. This is not to say the object being looked at changes its evident age; its own signs of relative age or freshness remain the same. What changes is the light falling on the object and being reflected off it. It is the light that renews or - when diminished - makes old. (pg. 12)

All these blues playing with the light create the shine of silver or tine. A shine that has nothing to do with the sedate glow of gold or copper. Silver is fast - see mercury. The silver shine of fish, running water, sunlight on leaves.
For my left eye the nights are now darker because of the sharper contrast with the shine of the days. Blue is also the colour of depth and distance. (pg. 20)

As a result of my increased perception of space, my sense of the lateral - of what is happening left to right, of what is parallel to the horizon - is increased. I am more aware of what is passing before me, as distinct from what is addressed to me. Just as distance becomes longer, largeness becomes larger. (pg. 24)

Behind my right eye hands a burlap cloth; behind my left eye there's a mirror. I don't of course see either burlap or mirror. What I'm looking at, however, dramatically reflects their difference. Before the burlap the visible remains indifferent; before the mirror it begins to play. (pg. 28)

May 30th. Unusually blue sky, by any standards, over Paris. I look up at a fir tree and I have the impression that the little fractal fragments of sky, which I see between the masses of pine needles, are the tree's blue flowers, the colour of delphiniums. (pg. 30)

The removal of cataracts is comparable with the removal of a particular form of forgetfulness. Your eyes begin to re-remember first times. And it is in this sense that what they experience after the intervention resembles a kind of visual renaissance. (pg. 44)

I'm waiting on the paper with black ink. And blacks (as distinct from dark greys, dark blues or greens or browns) have acquired more weight, are heavier. Other colours flare or recede or penetrate but blacks look as though they have been deposited. Laid on top of. And this connects with their weight. The black of a natural substance - such as ebony or obsidian or chromite - is never pure black; other colours hide within it. The laid-on blacks are all man-made. (pg. 50)

Before the operation, I made a coloured drawing of a flower - a blue pansy. I did so with the idea of making another drawing of the same flower after the operation.
Neither drawing is a copy. Both of course are inrepretations of what I saw. They didn't come direct from the retinas of my eyes. Yet the difference between them is, I reckon, similar to the difference between what I perceive before and after the removal of the cataract. (pg. 52)

I'm far more aware of comparative scale: the small becomes smaller, the large larger, the immense more immense. And the same is true, not only of things, but of spaces. The small becomes more intimate, the large more extensive. And this is because details - the exact grey of the sky in a certain direction, the way a knuckle creases when a hand is relaxed, the slope of a green field on the far side of a house - such details reassume a forgotten significance. (pg. 62)

[redreads_ · Rating 4 out of 5]

this concise read explores the muses of John Berger, an art critic, after undergoing cataract surgery. while it may appear trivial to some, i found his newfound perspective and realization to be profoundly insightful. his observations made me appreciate my own eyesight more. the accompanying illustrations further complement Berger’s insights, adding a touch of whimsy and enhancing the overall experience.

[Sakshi Naredi · Rating 4 out of 5]

I dont know man
I didnt understand every word of this book, but something stuck w me.
The illustrations? Oh god, they are so very beautiful and witty, everytime i look at them, i smile! Especially the eye as a lamp!

I absolutely love how imaginative yet short this book is!

Something about this book, i’ve still not been able to figure out, is beautiful

[Edwin Wong · Rating 4 out of 5]

A wonderful little book for anyone struggling with cataracts.
By a Booker Prize winning art critic who based his career on seeing and sight.
Here's a review and my story of finding this book.
https://wp.me/p4PiYF-2dO

[Ferhat Elmas · Rating 3 out of 5]

Isigin icinde yasiyoruz, baligin suyun gormedigi gibi.

[Jorge Gamboa · Rating 4 out of 5]

El autor escribe desde su experiencia, un antes y un después del mundo al padecer cataratas en sus córneas.

[Claire]

(I was disappointed)

[Milanimal · Rating 4 out of 5]

A brief observations on seeing and light. I want John Bergers eyes, like the protagonist of Get Out, as well as his pen.

[Yasin Çetin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Selçuk Demirel'in desenleri bulunan bu John Berger kitabında, Katarakt ameliyatı olacak bir kişi üzerinden görme deneyimimize dair güzel bir okuma sunuyor.

[Ville Verkkapuro]

This was a tiny snack too and it reminded me of Own Death by Peter Nadas which is one of my absolute favorites

[Dean Gabriel · Rating 4 out of 5]

You can never go wrong with Berger. Imaginative illustrations!

[Başak Engin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Selçuk Demirel’in muhteşem çizimleri, John Berger’in şiirsel anlatımıyla çok keyifle okuduğum kitap.

[David Dâng · Rating 4 out of 5]

情感诚挚，用字精准。2021-08-02@大梦书屋

[Dwhale · Rating 4 out of 5]

Işık üzerine öncesi ve sonrası gerçekleri ve hisleri hakkında

[Elaenia Montañera · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro de notas atentas sobre la vista, sobre la imperfección del cuerpo y la recuperación de una operación de cataratas. Un homenaje a la vista, de un hombre que dedicó su obra a la reflexión sobre la mirada, sobre los modos de ver, sobre el milagro de los ojos. Poético, sencillo, sensible y humano, John Berger transforma lo que sería un motivo de preocupación, en un espacio para la reflexión y la observación, para la escritura. Las ilustraciones de Selçuk Demirel son, como el libro, muy humanas y sencillas, además de prodigiosas en cuanto a estilo y expresividad.

[Antonio Margal · Rating 3 out of 5]

Los fragmentos son, por lo general, cortos; muy cortos pero combinados con las ilustraciones forman un pequeño (pero muy bien producido y diseñado) libro con un mensaje bonito acerca de la vista que en particular para los que usamos los ojos intensamente en nuestro trabajo como diseñadores, artistas, escritores o creativos en general resulta el leerlo (en menos de una tarde): Un dulcesito.

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read John Berger for 25 years now. No one sees so clearly and writes so beautifully about the act of seeing.

(I could have done without Demirel's illustrations though. I would enjoy them in another context but they seemed out if place in this book.)

[Daphne · Rating 4 out of 5]

meditation on the gift of sight

[HadiDee · Rating 2 out of 5]

Short and sweet. I enjoyed Berger's musing but the illustrations didn't seem a good fit.