Showing posts with label Visegrad 4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Visegrad 4. Show all posts

Monday, 7 March 2016

A Kingdom of Souls - Book Review

  A Kingdom of Souls - Book Review




A Kingdom of Souls by Daniela Hodrová, translated by Véronique Firkusny and Elena Sokol. Jantar Publishing, 2015, 200 pages.
Literary fiction from the Ruritanian lands has many literate and generous reviewers. Among the most famous, literate and widely read online is Michael Orthofer who recently published his own thoughts on Daniela's first novel, A Kingdom of Souls. His review is so compelling that it is very difficult to improve upon his opening paragraphs. I use purple on purpose:


A Kingdom of Souls is the first in a Prague-trilogy, the novel itself dated: "December 1977-October1978, June 1984" but only published after the fall of the Communist regime. Its prime locale and vista is the Olšany cemetery -- or at least a building opposite it, specifically a fifth floor apartment -- but even as much of the action is focused here it is a sweeping novel of Prague, and the modern Czech experience, since the Nazi occupation. It begins with one character dead(-but-not-entirely-departed), a presence in the pantry of that fifth floor apartment -- and he is soon joined by others, the small chamber eventually getting quite crowded. In a A Kingdom of Souls death isn't a complete release, and the dead figure just as much as the living.
       There are several prominent characters in this novel of criss-crossing stories, but the central one is young Alice Davidović, longing and waiting for her beloved, Pavel Santner. But as the novel opens Pavel Santner had left with a transport two weeks earlier, and the possibility of their reunion seems slight; Alice never entirely gives up hope -- and yet also does so almost immediately, in shocking fashion. It is the time of the Second World War; Alice's family is Jewish; they too "were to join a transport" .....
       Hodrová's novel is one of history, and characters whose stories are not fixed and definitive, not absolute (so also in the dead continuing to be very real presences, even if on an entirely different plane). As she writes at one point in the narrative:

That's how it happened, but perhaps it happened somewhat differently.
Alice is a character of Greek epic proportions both tragic and comic. She "leaves" in the opening paragraph but remains observing and participating, not only in this novel and the remaining two in the trilogy, but Daniela's entire literary output of ten novels to date. Her voice is given particular resonance when read aloud by one of her translators, Véronique Firkusny as she did on Radio Prague last year. In fact, the whole interview is fabulously interesting and possibly even more compelling that Orthofer's languid prose.

The novel was also reviewed very positively by the Times Literary Supplement and its gradual but positive beautiful impact on the English literary perception of Prague is noted with great happiness by the author and publisher. I began quoting Michael Orthofer and will now end with his his summary:

A Kingdom of Souls is a dark and elusive novel, but it is also seductive. Hodrová's precise expression (in this fine translation) and unexpected perspectives make for an impressively disturbing, compelling text.

Sunday, 6 March 2016

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.

Where is Ruritania?

 Image result for ruritania flag

One might begin with answering another question, "What is Ruritania?". If one refers to the font of all knowledge online one receives the oversimplified and frankly unusable answer, "Ruritania is a fictional country in central Europe which forms the setting for three books by Anthony Hope: The Prisoner of Zenda (1894), The Heart of Princess Osra (1896), and Rupert of Hentzau (1898)".

Scrolling down the font of all knowledge online, one learns that those novels written by Anthony Hope spawned a literary genre known as Ruritanian Romance.

However, my favourite fact from the font of all knowledge online is that Ruritania features in a treaty between Indonesia and Australia which among other things, seeks to protect both from a potential but unknown enemy which, for the sake of the treaty, shall be named Ruritania. One cannot make up things like that. It is so absurd, entertaining and anti-rational that it actually doesn't matter whether such a treaty exists and why should be we believe that font of all knowledge anyway - just because it is free? Tish and Pish.

The questions "What is Ruritania?" and "Where is Ruritania?" have no simple answers. However, if one reads this blog on a regular basis, one may get to learn of its rich literary culture, its books and where to buy them. For even in Ruritania, one must earn a living, even if it is by minstrelsy.

Today's partial answer is: "Ruritania is a fictional land to the east of France and to the north of the Mediterranean and may contain provinces known by other names like Slovakia or Slovenia" though, it may be rather hard to think of them as different and also, why would want to know the detail? The Australians have already found a contradictory answer.

Happy Reading