Dubrovnik Archives - A Geography of Reading

I picked up Shards by Ismet Prcic because we’re traveling to Croatia soon and I often like to explore the literature of a country before arriving—something about getting to know the soul of a place and a people through art. The book is a fantastically well-written story of a man who grew up during and escaped (kind of) the Bosnian War and I could say all kinds of complimentary things about its construction and the characters and language. But what I want to talk about today is how an outsider views a culture.

When making my reading list for this upcoming trip, I wanted to read contemporary works that were available in English. In listening to Benjamin Moser’s “That Other Word” interview, I realized how selective the process is that leads to works being translated into English. Prcic wrote Shards in English, but Saša Stanišić wrote How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone in German and Dubravka Ugrešić wrote The Ministry of Pain in Croatian. I mention these three in particular, because these are the books that came to hand in my search (though I had already read The Ministry of Pain).

These books have in common that they all deal with the effects of the Balkan War on their characters, and I came to wonder, are there contemporary Balkan books that don’t? I am thinking about definition a lot lately and the roles we put on ourselves and the roles others put on us. I could understand if every contemporary writer in any way associated with the region only wrote about the war—war has a huge and lasting impact—but I suspect that there are writers who deal more peripherally with the war (if at all) and I am interested to know if their work is being translated. I am curious about the filters that are being applied by translators and agents and editors and publishing houses to the way I see the Balkans. How horrible it would be if writers from the former Yugoslavia were given the impression that the world is only interested in their work if it is about the Balkan War. How limiting for their potential audience.

Perhaps I’m wondering how much daily life in the tourist areas of Dubrovnik is affected by the war or I am curious about the lives of our soon-to-be landlords. Perhaps I feel a little guilty that I have gone from seeing Plitvice as the place my grandmother most loved to seeing it as the place where the first shot of the war was fired. Perhaps I am thinking about my own writing and the lack of control I feel in a world where the success of a writer is still determined by so many external actors (and I don’t mean readers). In learning more about Croatia and its neighbors, I have read some very good books, including Shards, but I keep feeling like I’m only able to experience through these books one aspect of a rich group of cultures. I guess that’s what the plane ticket is for…

If this review made you want to read the book, pick up a copy of Shards from Powell’s Books. Your purchase keeps indie booksellers in business and I receive a commission.