درختستان توس

by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz, شبنم سعادت (-Transalator)

Jaroslaw Iwaszkiewicz's work is familiar to every Polish reader, yet remains unknown to the outside world. The stories in this selection were all written in the 1930s, and provide an extraordinary evocation of Poland's first brief era of independence between the wars. They are also timeless sonatas of love and loss. In 'A New Love', Iwaszkiewicz uses masterful brevity to take a wry, comical look at the illusion of romance from the viewpoint of a jaded, cynical lover. One of his best-known works, 'The Wilko Girls', tells of a middle-aged man's quest to recover his lost youth in the aftermath of the First World War, which has left him psychologically scarred. He travels to the scene of his pre-war summer holidays in the eastern borderlands, where he renews his friendship with the fascinating sisters whom he knew when they were girls. But no one is the same and nothing can be as it was. 'The Birch Grove' is the moving story of a woodsman who, spiritually destroyed by the death of his wife, has buried himself away in an isolated forest. When his lively younger brother unexpectedly comes to stay, his self-centred peace is disrupted. But his brother has come home to die. The lives of two young men, one a deeply religious poet, the other a sceptical, worldly estate owner, are touchingly contrasted in 'The Mill on the River Utrata'. Confirming these stories' central place in Polish cultural history, 'The Wilko Girls' and 'The Birch Grove' were made into classic films by Andrzej Wajda, Poland's leading director.

Genres: Polish Literature, Short Stories, Fiction, Poland, Classics

130 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1962

About the author

Iwaszkiewicz was born in Kalnik (now in Vinnytsia Oblast, Ukraine). After the death of his father (an accountant), he and his mother lived in Warsaw between 1902–1904, and then moved back to Ukraine in 1904–1912. He graduated from a secondary school in Kiev in 1912 and enrolled at the Law Faculty of Kiev University. After World War I, in October 1918 he returned to Warsaw. There, he joined a group of local artists who had started Pro Arte et Studio arts magazine. Iwaszkiewicz with Julian Tuwim and Antoni Słonimski co-founded the Skamander group of experimental poets in 1919.

In 1922 he married Anna Lilpop, a daughter of a wealthy entrepreneur, and the couple settled in Podkowa Leśna in the suburb of Warsaw. In 1928 they moved to a newly built house that Iwaszkiewicz named Stawisko. Maciej Rataj, the Speaker of the Lower Chamber of the Polish Parliament (Sejm) appointed him to be his secretary. Iwaszkiewicz worked for a magazine called "Wiadomości Literackie" and also published his works in numerous periodicals like "Gazeta Polska" (1934–1938) and "Ateneum" (1938–1939). Later he was a secretary to the Society for the Encouragement of Fine Arts (Towarzystwo Zachęty Sztuk Pięknych), and a member of the Polish PEN Club. The Foreign Ministry first appointed him the head of the art promotion section and later sent him as a secretary to Copenhagen (1932-1925) and Brussels (1935–1936). He was a member of Związek Zawodowy Literatów Polskich (ZZLP, The Trade Union of Polish Writers) and in 1939 voted its vice-president.

As a novelist he wrote Sława i Chwała (Glory and Vainglory) - a saga depicting a panorama of the life of Polish intelligentsia in years 1914-1947 and a few other novels but is most highly regarded for his short stories. He was awarded the Lenin Peace Prize.

Reviews

[Antonomasia · Rating 5 out of 5]

[4.5] Exquisite, sad, long short stories of inter-war summers, with an atmosphere that evokes other classics - and personal favourites - like Le Grand Meaulnes and Brideshead Revisited. Two of the stories were made into equally beautiful films by Andrzej Wajda, which I often thought of whilst reading.

Before I followed up a hint in philosopher Leszek Kołakowski's introduction to this volume, and a hunch based on the first story, I had no idea that Iwaszkiewicz had relationships with men as well as women; in his diaries he described himself as homosexual; his wife was aware of his male lovers and was herself bi. This put a different spin on the stories - he wasn't simply another dusty old [straight] male writer - and resonated with his contemporaries, the Bright Young Things and Lost Generation, elsewhere in Europe. In these stories, there is always plausible deniability (which I daresay helps Polish conservatives accept Iwaszkiewicz as a classic author), but if one knows to look… The attractiveness of men seems to be mentioned more than one might expect. Perhaps the anonymous off-page woman of 'A New Love' was really a man, like the 'she' of some early Pet Shop Boys or Erasure songs; certain features of the story fall more neatly into place if she was. There are deep attachments between young men in 'The Wilko Girls' and 'The Mill on the River Utrata', whilst their relationships with women have been less profound or briefer, respectively. Had Staś in 'The Birch Grove' simply never been in love *with a woman* before, rather than not at all? Kołakowski presents a rosy picture of Iwaszkiewicz's career under communism, as someone who managed to be part of the establishment without leading others into harm. Perhaps this isn't the full story; or maybe the habits Iwaszkiewicz learnt as a semi-closeted young man stood him in good stead for coping with life under an authoritarian government. (This reminiscence by Miłosz, who was so critical of some of his compatriots in The Captive Mind also suggests that Iwaszkiewicz only did what he needed to stay safe and no more, and was one of the good ones, as far as it was possible to be at that time whilst also being government-approved.) There is basically no scholarship on Iwaszkiewicz in English - this collection of four stories is, sadly, the only work of his that's been translated - but I'd love to know what interpretations Polish queer scholars have made.

The three later stories are pushing novella length, but 'A New Love' which opens the collection, is only nine pages. Whilst some of its flower symbolism is too on-the-nose, the narrative of a protagonist's thought process on falling in love again is brilliantly done. It succinctly encapsulates thoughts and feelings associated with falling hard for a new person like few other pieces of literature I've read. It then rapidly gives way to a similar accuracy in describing the pragmatic fatigue with emotional rollercoasters that starts to set in after a certain age. (I was impressed with the maturity of this, noticing that Iwaszkiewicz wrote it in 1925, when he was only 31.) There seemed something a little unusual about the power dynamics relative to gender, considering when the story was written. As it progressed, there was a sense of equivalent power between the lovers, dependent entirely on attitude. The male protagonist obsesses over small details of roses as metaphors and omens; he initially thinks about giving up his interests for the lover in a way that most 20th century narratives (though admittedly not those of the 19th-century Romantic movement) usually associate with women. Then his attitude shifts and he expects her to change to fit around him. The milieu seems to be one where people have a succession of relationships before marriage - which sounds very modern. (Or perhaps extra-marital, or between people who couldn't marry, like two men…)

For a current UK reader, the title 'The Wilko Girls' may bring to mind the wrong picture. (Since hardware and homewares chain Wilkinsons changed its official name to Wilko … And incidentally how come working class shop assistants get to be dignified as protagonists in popular novels in historical sagas like this one about Woolworth's, whereas if the setting is contemporary they are only likely to be secondary characters in literary fiction?) Iwaszkiewicz's 'Wilko girls' though - girls as they were when protagonist Wiktor used to know them before the First World War, now women from their early twenties to mid thirties - are upper-middle class sisters who still, conveniently for the narrative, regularly spend time at the family estate where they grew up. This story undoubtedly has a number of clichés of 20th century fiction, such as the concern with memory and revisiting youthful experiences, and a male character who gets to flirt with most of the women in a large group, in this case a family of sisters. (On one hand, this is frequently criticised by online literary feminists - but on the other, one does see similar in reality, from girls' school classes where most of the girls fancy the same boy band member, or other man in closer proximity, such as someone's older brother or a school gardener, and offices where many of the women flirt with the same repairman or courier. I've never personally understood it, found the communal nature of it and competition a turn off, and also didn't find the individual men attractive - but it seems to be a real enough phenomenon that, even if it may be used to flatter writers' egos and seems laughable at times in literature and films, that you can't say it's totally unrealistic.)

Whilst, largely because of the embarrassed awareness that this sort of story is widely disapproved of now, it's probably my least favourite of the four in this volume, I'd still give it 4 stars, and I found much of it very lovely. I was always visualising the hazy beauty of the film, and I also saw another dimension now, with the knowledge of Iwaszkiewicz's sexuality: Wiktor's grief for his recently deceased friend Jurek which has got him signed off work; his half-hearted involvement with women; cryptic lines like "Do you know what sort of person I am?". It has that elegiac frisson of post-WWI literature - the lost peaceful past, the intrusive memories of war - with the added retrospective poignancy that the characters were, in fact still in an idyll that they and others would nostalgically long for in decades to come: the brief period of Polish independence between the wars. That it's set in late summer only magnifies the beauty and loss; Iwaszkiewicz's interweaving of nature writing and existential contemplation is wonderfully translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones. It also helped that I am the right age to understand Wiktor's mindset - he is nearly 40, poised between looking back on a youth when he thought he would achieve more than he now has, yet recognising that an ostensibly prosaic, limited present and future can actually seem very satisfying.

What is it that makes inter-war fiction so appealing, sometimes comforting or beautiful? Is this mostly a British phenomenon to find it so, connected with Golden Age detective fiction (especially Agatha Christie), P.G. Wodehouse and Evelyn Waugh - and TV adaptations? And then there was Paris… At any rate I was aware of this connection working on me as I read these stories. The Polish setting is more pastoral, lower technology, which only makes it more attractive - though of course Cider With Rosie and Cold Comfort Farm also gave the impression of a countryside still in the 19th century whilst cities were in the Roaring Twenties.

I love the film of 'The Birch Grove' and the story adds new dimensions to it. Panny z Wilka was a very faithful adaptation, whereas in Wajda's Brzezina the internality of one of the two brothers was mostly lost; the story seems more contemplative as a result of giving space to both of their thoughts. Film-Bolesław - at whose remote house the consumptive Staś comes to stay - seemed the authoritarian villain of the piece, shouting at his little daughter, marching about in a foul temper, and generally being the fun police; it also seemed possible he might have killed his dead wife in a jealous rage. In the story it's clear the latter is not the case; book-Bolesław is turned in on himself with grief after being widowed, and whilst he is sometimes rather unfair, and displays a frightening temper on a couple of occasions, he doesn't seem to be a tyrant through and through; rather, he is hurt, or he doesn't understand TB, and he isn't a constant problem to others. I had expected the story to say more about the brothers' family background; in the film they are in the moment, much like figures in a painting - and it's actually similar on the page. One could infer that Staś was training to be a professional musician before he fell ill, but it's never actually said. The brothers almost seem to be of different social classes, one working as a forestry manager, the other having lived in the cultured world of West European classical music and sanatoria. Meanwhile, I am amazed at how Wajda translated Staś' inner thoughts to film - I felt as though I had absorbed many of them from the visuals, such was the resonance of the words with the feeling of watching it a couple of years ago. That has to be part of what directorial genius means. Staś is a character of luminous intermittent energy - imagine David Tennant's Tenth Doctor as a fragile consumptive musician - and that is here too on the page, yet there is more of a sense of philosophy too. The pages (p118-123) on his sense of joy during a rainstorm are the loveliest thing I've read this year, and are, perhaps, the heart of this as a work about something which sounds revoltingly cheesy and clichęd when summarised in so many words, about the joy which may be found in the mundane and in nature when life is dark and limited, provided one is still able to process the experience.

However, the combination of the coronavirus pandemic, with having recently heard in an audio lecture a Foucauldian analysis of Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain (a novel set in an early 20th century TB sanatorium), did sometimes create a heaviness around the story I wouldn't have otherwise felt. (People who need to make jokes about social distancing all the time might short circuit at Staś being sent home and all the social contact he gets up to.) This is an unusually late example of TB romanticism, a trope commoner in literature from a hundred years earlier: it is as if Staś has left the 20th century Foucauldian sanatorium in Switzerland for an early 19th century rural world of transport by cart in less-developed Poland, and there also lives an ideal from the earlier time, and thereby having a far greater quality of life in his last few months. (As in the final story, the record player is the only 20th century technology in clear evidence - almost analogous to a contemporary dream of going back to the land and off grid, but with internet access.) Having this set at high summer only adds to the beauty and poignancy, and it has a sense of making peace with the world and comprehending its fullness that is in some ways the complete opposite of the Manics' 'Die in the Summertime' whilst also containing that song's ideas and far more.

The final story, 'The Mill on the River Utrata' begins in a setting reminiscent of Brideshead: three poetic young men hang out at the country home of the wealthiest among them, and Catholicism has a strong presence. Time is ambiguous: the first couple of pages, the narrator mentions a dilapidated gravestone, as if the events of the story happened decades ago - but it was written in 1936 and characters listen to jazz records … One could, though, imagine that narrator writing in the 1970s or later.

It is with trepidation one sees that a white European author of this era is introducing a black character, but this, thankfully, mostly goes well here. Desmond, an internationally peripatetic poet, translator and language tutor (a very 2010s-sounding career), is clearly an intelligent and thoughtful guy whom others initially underestimate because of their own racism. Such a shame about the couple of occasions when his body language is stereotyped, and one very dodgy adjective. These add up to such a small number of words that - as with the couple of occasions in another story when Jewish characters could be named rather than simply called Jews - it's hard to see cause to actually mark the book down, especially when set beside the egregious stuff in other fiction of the era, and the author's actions in saving people during WWII.

Peasant culture was idealised by many artists during the push for Polish independence - see for example Stanisław Wyspiański's play The Wedding, central to the Polish literary canon. From the stories here - especially 'The Birch Grove' and 'The Mill on the River Utrata' - one could infer that Iwaszkiewicz, an artist beginning his career during the idependence period, found it somewhat limited, especially the popular motif of the intellectual man marrying a peasant woman. (This is of course, a tiny sample of his work.) Yet he evidently had a great love of nature and country life, along with high culture often associated with urban life.

Motifs repeat through the three main stories of the tragic deaths of brilliant young men, and of epiphanies about the meaning of life; one could connect these both with the cultural memory of WWI, and speculate that they may reflect someone(s) in particular whom Iwaszkiewicz missed. The existential revelations are so deeply felt that they seem experienced, not merely written off-the-cuff as characters' thoughts. Some readers might find this book too androcentric, or too much like other literary fiction if they do not connect strongly with the setting (though as it is not easy to get hold of, most English readers will be motivated) but I found it very special, especially alongside Wajda's film The Birch Wood. Sad to think of this being analysed by bored schoolkids in Poland; some books deserve better. It has had to get through so many filters to reach me, as the work of a deceased writer not otherwise translated to English (how different if he'd won the Nobel on one of the four known occasions he was nominated), printed in Hungary by Central European University Press (probably not any more), only available in this one edition; perhaps it proves the worth of such filters, but also reminds me of that wonderful line from a favourite PSB song of similar elegaic mood, "I bolted through a closing door".

[Hanieh · Rating 3 out of 5]

بولسواف، درهم‌شکسته از مرگ همسرش، با تنها دختر خود در کلبه جنگلیِ متروکی میان درختستان توس روزگار می‌گذراند تا این که استاش، برادر کوچکترش، از راه می‌رسد. می‌رسد که در خانه او بماند تا بمیرد. یکی رو به مرگ است و دیگری زخم‌خورده‌ی مرگ. اقامت کوتاه استاش در آنجا برایش تجربیات تازه ای به ارمغان می آورد و هرچند دیر اما روی دیگری از زندگی را به او نشان می دهد. تا جایی که خود می گوید: "زندگی باید اینطور باشه". در مقابل، با وجود اینکه حضور استاش در ابتدا باب میل برادرش نیست و خلوت او را بهم زده اما به مرور، روح او را نیز دستخوشِ احوالاتِ تازه ای می کند تا بلکه بر روی زخم هایش مرهمی بنشیند.
کوتاه بود و لطیف. نصف روز خواندمش و تصور کردم میان درختستان توس دراز کشیده ام و به صدای طبیعت گوش می دهم.

[Mohammad · Rating 3 out of 5]

دشتستان توس قصه ای از دو برادر که یکی جسم و دیگری روحش رو به زوال است. داستان کتاب تقابل، جدال و یا همراهی انهاست. طبیعت وحشی و عریان روستایی با درآغوش گرفتن مرگ و زندگی بستر شکل گیری عواطف و احساسات دوپهلو و مبهم شخصیت های کتاب است. اگر مرگ را دستمایه جالبی برای داستان می دانید نویسنده با کتابش ناامیدتان نخواهد کرد.

[Schahin · Rating 5 out of 5]

غمگین بود. پر از پارگراف هایی که در مورد حسرت زندگی های به دست نیامده و زندگی های تجربه نکرده بود. خوندنش منو غرق در چیزی کرد که از حسش ترس دارم.‌
بی نهایت نوولای خوبی بود و بسیار ارزش خواندن داشت.

[None Ofyourbusiness Loves Israel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Two incredible novellas that were also made into movies by Wajda and were submitted for Oscar consideration. I obviously need to watch them now. This Hebrew translation by Yoram Bronowsky יורם ברונובסקי is exceptional and gorgeous. Criminally hard to find in translation! Someone please translate the rest of his work!

Here are my separate takes on these incredible stories that I included under the Polish titles:

As Stanislaw succumbs to the ravages of tuberculosis, his resolve to savor the remaining fragments of existence remains unwavering. Returning from his therapeutic retreat amidst the serene mountains of Davos, Switzerland, he ventures to the homestead of his brother, Boleslaw, still ensnared in the throes of mourning following his wife's passing, intent on spending his twilight days amidst familiar surroundings. Yet, as Stanislaw captivates the villagers with his charisma and engages in a fleeting liaison with a local farm maiden, Boleslaw finds himself ensnared by a burgeoning resentment towards his ailing kin.

Against a backdrop adorned with enchanting depictions of nature's splendor—where verdant forests and majestic trees weave an ethereal tapestry—the narrative intricately juxtaposes the looming specter of mortality with the poignant yet futile longing to cling to life's ephemeral joys: music, love, the nostalgia of childhood, and the ineffable allure of beauty.

Within this intricate interplay lies a bittersweet symphony of melancholy, where each fleeting moment resonates with a poignant elegance, revealing the profound depths of the human experience.

**************

Wiktor Ruben, a veteran of the Great War, finds himself adrift. Devastated by loss and yearning for a life less ordinary, he escapes the monotony of his Warsaw manor for the familiar pastures of Rożki. There, at his aunt and uncle's farm, a different kind of homecoming awaits.

Fifteen years prior, Wilko manor, bordering Rożki, was a vibrant stage for Wiktor's youth. He encounters the Wilko sisters, now matured women, their youthful energy replaced by a quiet contemplation. The reunion stirs a bittersweet symphony of memories. Wiktor, once a central figure in their world, becomes a visitor in their past, a catalyst for introspection. The women confront not just his absence, but the paths not taken in their own lives, the disappointments that have become their companions.

This poignant tale by Iwaszkiewicz explores the fleeting nature of memory and the human condition's struggle against the relentless tide of time. As Wiktor grapples with the weight of his past choices, the reader is invited to ponder the fragility of hope and the enduring power of regret. While the novel unflinchingly tackles the harrowing subjects of sexual abuse and PTSD, way before they were named as such, their inclusion is not gratuitous. These experiences, though intensely uncomfortable, serve as a stark reminder of the profound impact such trauma has on shaping lives and destinies. By bringing these silenced voices to light, Iwaszkiewicz compels us to confront the darkness and acknowledge its lasting effects.

[Feuerrede · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tak serio, to przeczytałam tylko "Brzezine", ale z tego wydania XDD ładne, końcówka taka "nie rozumiem ale buja"

Jestem profesjonalną bookstagramerką, a czemu pytasz?

Ps: BO TU NIE DA SIE ODZNACZYĆ OPOWIADAŃ ZE ZBIORÓW NOO...

[aLirEza nEjaTi · Rating 3 out of 5]

sad :(

[Bahareh Mahooti · Rating 4 out of 5]

«استاش» برای شادی و در لحظه زندگی کردن تلاش میکنه؛ بلکه شاید ترس از مرگ رو که مثل خوره به جونش میفته فراموش کنه. اما واقعیت بی‌رحمه، همیشه فرصتی برای نشون دادن تیزیش پیدا میکنه. باید جنگید یا باید وا داد؟


این کتاب منو یاد کتاب مرگ ایوان ایلیچ انداخت... که شاهکاره.

[Maedeh Mehry · Rating 5 out of 5]

نویسنده‌ی عزیزِ داستانِ عزیزمن
خلق کردن اثری که خواننده بتونه در فضاش زندگی کنه، به توانایی بسیار زیادی نیاز داره که شما به‌خوبی از پسش بر اومدی.
در درختستان توس، نقره‌ایِ توس‌ها رو می‌دیدم و سبزی جنگل رو وقت قدم زدن استانیسواف لمس می‌کردم.
خوندم و حس کردم که مرگ نزدیکه، خوندم و تلاش کردم چند روز باقی مونده رو زندگی کنم، خوندم و سوت زدم و آواز خوندم، خوندم و پیانو زدم، خوندم و حرف‌های مهمی که هیچ‌کس نمی‌فهمید رو به اولا کوچولو زدم، خوندم و کنار مالوینا تو جنگل دراز کشیدم، خوندم و عاشق شدم، خوندم و خون بالا آوردم، خوندم و گفتم: 《نمی‌خوام اینقدر جوون بمیرم》، خوندم و با آواز مالوینا پرونده‌ی زندگی رو بستم، خوندم و برادرم رو دفن کردم، خوندم و تک تک این اتفاقات رو زندگی کردم.
با خوندن کمی که از کتاب، آخر قصه رو زود فهمیدم و حجم کتابی که تو چند ساعت می‌خونم رو یک هفته کش دادم...
زندگی کردن در درختستان توس خیلیی لذت‌بخش بود آقای نویسنده! ممنونم بابت این تجربه‌ی فوق‌العاده!

[Maryam Dehkordi · Rating 4 out of 5]

روایت نرم و آرام زندگی و مرگ توامان…

[Shekoofe Hejazi · Rating 3 out of 5]

و با عشق همه چیز رنگ و بویی دیگر دارد...
کتاب خیلی زیبا درمورد ترس از مرگ، فقدان و عشق صحبت میکنه، توصیف‌های خیلی زیبایی داشت و قطعا ارزش خوندن داره.

[Christian · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5/5

This was a fantastic collection of short stories. I especially enjoyed the three longer stories of the collection. Each had a flavor of rural Polish life that I have always wanted to see expressed in literature. I had only heard about these stories because Andrzej Wajda adapted two of them into famous films. These stories capture human truths of life that enraptured me the minute I started.

For The Wilko Girls I was quite taken by the main character Wiktor Ruben. Specifically, the hard to swallow truth that life has not gone in the way he anticipated as a young man. The Wilko girls are the women of his past who he has strongly associated with his youth (he goes on to speak about his four nights spent with Julcia and her skin that left a permanent impression on him). The memory of now deceased Fela sunbathing naked also lingers in Ruben. Overall, the story deals with death (Julek and Fela) and the unwavering and unforgiving march of time. Ruben seems to march off at the end of the story no longer allowing his past to consume him.

The Birch Grove and The Mill on the River Utrata both deal with love, loss, illness, and human relationships. The relationship between Bolesław and Stanisław in The Birch Grove is of conflict that comes from what they have experienced in life. Stanisław is a consumptive who comes from a Sanatorium, and Bolesław is grieving after his wife died. At the end, when Bolesław leaves to continue felling elsewhere while his brother and his wife lay buried in the birch grove, I was completely entranced.

The Mill on the River Utrata is one that takes us through the lives of a poet and a businessman, beginning with a nameless narrator going to the graves of these two men. These two characters are close friends, one who is faithful (the poet, Julek) and one who is consumed by his work (the businessman, Karol). We see that Julek falls in love with a woman who goes to his church and loses his faith completely. This causes him distress because the only thing that cures his loneliness is his love Mrs. Łowiecka. The intricacies of this story and the ending left a permanent impression on me.

These three stories were my favorite of the collection. I think I need to revisit the first story; I understood it, but it just didn't impact me as much.

[Mopano · Rating 3 out of 5]

در تعطیلات عید مشغول خواندن این نوولای دوست داشتنی بودم که البته لازم به ذکر است که خواندن جنایت و مکافات عرصه را بر این دوست کوچک تنگ کرده بود ولی بی شک یکی از پر احساس‌ترین نوولاهایی بود که خوانده بودم. درختستان توس داستان دو برادر، عشقی ناپایدار و البته در لحظه های آخر است که با ادبیاتی شیرین و مجذوب کننده نوشته شده است. از این جهت با این کتاب خوب ارتباط برقرار کردم که فلسفه بسیار دقیق و جامعی نداشت اما در تلاش بود تا با اندکی استفاده از منطق درباره مرگ صحبت کند و پس از آن شما را با موسیقی و حال و هوای طبیعت در لحظه های مهم تنها می گذارد که به نظرم درست ترین کار ممکن است! این که بگذاری نت ها، موسیقی ها و طبیعت خودشان حرف بزنند !!!
نمی خواهم بگویم که با خواندن این اثر بی شک یکی از از شاهکارهای لهستان را خوانده‌اید، اما اجازه بدهید بگویم با خواندن این کتاب ذات ادبیات را بهتر از گذشته درک خواهید کرد 🙂

[Masih Reyhani · Rating 4 out of 5]

📚 از پشت جلد کتاب:
«بولسواف، درهم‌شکسته از مرگ همسرش، در کلبه‌ی جنگلی متروک خود روزگار می‌گذراند که استاش، برادر کوچکترش، از راه می‌رسد. می‌رسد که در خانه‌ی او بماند تا بمیرد. یکی رودرروی مرگ است و دیگری زخم‌خورده‌ی مرگ؛ تا مگر عشق در هیئت مالینا ملال هر دو را برآشوبد و، هر چند دیر شاید، به آن‌ها راه‌و‌رسم زندگی بیاموزد. درختستان توس روایت فروپاشی آهسته‌ی جسم و روح است و تقابل اروس و تانانوس. داستانی که دست‌مایه‌ی فیلم سینمایی درخشانی است با همین نام، به کارگردانی آندره وایدا، فیلم‌ساز پرآوازه‌ی لهستانی.»

کتاب به نظرم غمگین و در مواقعی حتی کلافه‌کننده بود. شاید همین کلافگی و همچنین مقایسه با دیگر آثار مجموعه‌ی برج بابل مرا برآن داشت تا این امتیاز را برای کتاب ثبت کنم.

[Rezvan Tahmasbi · Rating 3 out of 5]

«بولسواف قبلا هرگز به این وضوح فکر نکرده بود که چه‌قدر زندگی‌اش کم‌ارزش است. قبلا هرگز به ذهنش خطور نکرده بود که اگر بمیرد، واقعا هیچ اهمیتی ندارد. و البته فقط این حقیقت نبود که دنیا اصلا نبودش را احساس نخواهد کرد، بلکه حتی برای خود بولسواف گذر از هستی پوچ به نیستی پوچ هم هیچ اهمیتی نداشت- فقط مرحله‌ای عادی اما کم اهمیت بود.»

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«به خودش یا مرگش فکر نمی‌کرد - این دنیا بود که قرار بود بمیرد.»

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«فقط تا میانه‌ی روز ناخوش احوال بود، اما نمی‌دانست از درد عشق بود یا بیماری. او از هیچکدام چیزی نمی‌دانست - هم عشق و هم مرگ را اولین بار بود که تجربه می‌کرد.»

[K · Rating 3 out of 5]

A collection of four stories (A New Love, The Wilko Girls, The Birch Grove, and The Mill on the River Utrata)--interesting in terms of demonstrating life in Poland at particular times, but overall not very compelling plots or characters.

[Beata · Rating 3 out of 5]

Opowiadania o miłości, tęsknocie i strachu.

[Mieczyslaw Kasprzyk · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautiful book, two stories particularly stand out; "The Birch Grove" and "The Wilko Girls". Both stories capture something that is so much a part of our very being... beautiful!