When Fernando Pessoa sings of the "awakening of Lisbon, later than elsewhere," it does not mean that we are dealing with a city full of sleepyheads. On the contrary: as one wanders through the city, the melancholic saudade of Fado intertwines with the vibrant rhythm of a modern metropolis. José Saramago depicts the siege of Lisbon by the Moors and tourists, Manuela Gonzaga introduces us to the secrets of the Lisbon gardens, Natália Corréia stuffs carnations into soldiers' rifles and brings an end to the dictatorship, António Lobo Antunes restores the natural order of things, Germano Almeida gives voice to African immigrants from Cape Verde, Lídia Jorge describes the city as a paradise without borders, and Antonio Tabucchi sells us stories of intersectional sole and a tragically maritime perch. About two dozen.