Samko Tále's Cemetery Book Review

Samko Tále’s Cemetery Book by Daniela Kapitáňová, translated by Julia Sherwood. 
Garnett Press, 2011, 130 pages.

On the border of Ruritania and not far from France and very definitely north of the Mediterranean lies the land of present day Slovakia. It is a land with borders of its own: linguistic, geographical, rational and not very rational. All is explained by the Everyman
Samko Tále, with his first attempt at a hit list of those he wishes to see under gravestones in his local cemetery. The list isn't very long, so Samko Tále begins his second attempt at his Cemetery Book because his handcart is being repaired and it is raining. Also, we learn that a drunken mystic named Gusto Rúhe has advised Samko that he is destined to write. Thus, to fill in time, Samko decides to become a writer. Samko describes small-town life in modern Slovakia which is merely another province within Ruritania. His philosophy develops through a series of anecdotes that introduce the reader to his family and other misfits left behind by history in the Slovak border town of Komárno. The cemetery metaphor is explored with gusto in 130 pages of fun as Samko’s mask is revealed ever funnier and more terrifying.

We read of Samko’s proud achievement in the Young Pioneers and his respect for Gunár, the town’s former top communist official, but as he continues, Samko seems to pay more attention to the opaque predictions of the town’s drunk and mystic, Gusto Rúhe. Further comedy occurs with the shifting politics of Samko’s parents as history’s inevitability collapses into another universe. His uncle’s mission to heal the world with mushrooms provides one of the book’s finest themes, though unfortunately, we never find out if or how this was achieved. Such ambiguity, though, is not present when Samko lists his complaints against Czechs, Gypsies, Hungarians and his shock at inter-racial marriage.

Samko’s sour voice allows scant ‘wiggle room’ for any translator. However, Julia Sherwood’s translation provides a master class in how to render tone; for instance Alf Névéry’s cause of death is first introduced as “of failure” and then later, with the introduction of the indefinite article, “of a failure”. Quite what failed inside Alf is left for the reader to infer, but the episode remains hugely funny.

Many reviews describe Samko as some kind of post-1989 Forrest Gump and in doing so, miss the point. Samko is not a Slovak Forrest Gump but a subverted Pinocchio. Instead of wanting to be a boy, Samko is revealed as a gimp, a fascinating and thought-provoking insight into ourselves. He is local and universal, Slovak and Ruritanian, a complex collection of hopes, conceit and petty feuds.