Cernobiljske jagode : Secanja

by Vesna Goldsworthy

Vesna Goldsworthy breezed through life a top student at Belgrade University, a presenter of a fashionable radio program, a poet who performed her work to a crowd of 30,000 people, a member of the Yugoslav League of Communists, a descendant of one of the fiercest Montenegrin tribes, and, perhaps more than anything else, a pampered child of the Serbian middle class. In 1986, at the age of 24, she left Yugoslavia for London to marry an Englishman she had met at the Karl Marx Institute in Bulgaria two years previously. She had no doubt that she would be just as good at being English. At the BBC World Service, where she worked for seven years, she broadcast news bulletins about her own country's bloody dissolution and learnt, faced with the ghosts of her childhood amid the rubble, that she could still tell her side simply by how much it hurt. She wanted to keep her mother tongue alive but now knew more words for dying than the Inuit know for snow. Becoming English was not so simple after all. Vesna started writing the story of her life when she became aware, faced with the diagnosis of breast cancer when her son was only two, how strange his mother's life might one day appear to her child. Surrounded by mementos of her son's British ancestors who served in the furthest reaches of India and Africa, she wondered if the story of the communist world she came from was even stranger, precisely because it had disappeared so abruptly. Writing a book through which her son could continue hearing his mother's voice, Vesna learned how to make sense of the fractures and dislocations which marked her life just as surely as the scars which now ran across her body: In its fragmented way, her life makes perfect sense. There is nothing extraordinary about it, but, as she try to write it down, she could feel it burning. In prose that is exquisite in its precision, Vesna tells the story of herself, her family, and her lost country. Although purportedly an account of 40 years in the life of a passionate woman, Chernobyl Strawberries marks the births and deaths of whole worlds. Vesna Goldsworthy's captivating memoir about identity, love, and belonging marks the emergence of an irresistible new literary talent.

Genres: Nonfiction, Biography, Memoir, History, War, British Literature, Autobiography

Paperback

First published January 1, 2005

Reviews

[Uroš Đurković · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poznata priča: iako se knjizi može mnogo toga prigovoriti, u celini me je zaista dirnula. I to pre svega imajući u vidu podsticaj za pisanje – nakon što je saznala da ima kancer i da su joj šanse za preživljavanje male, autorka odlučuje da piše povest svog života. Međutim, iza njenog poduhvata ne stoji samo namera za ličnim presekom kao utehom, već nešto još važnije – želja da njen tada dvogodišnji sin ne bude lišen sećanja na svoju majku. Majku – višestruku strankinju, rođenu u zemlji koja više ne postoji, pripadnicu minule epohe i neke sasvim druge kulture. Stoga su „Černobiljske jagode” u svom najboljem vidu posebna vremenska kapsula, u kojoj je smeštena boja čitavog jednog vremena. Detalji o kojima Vesna Goldsvorti piše su nam sasvim bliski i mi ih i dalje proživljavamo, kroz priče, sećanja, a često i u svakodnevici. Iako nama Jugoslavija nije misterija, zapadu jeste, te je ova knjiga i jedan prilog uspostavljanju razumevanja. Ponekad je blizina teme i okolnosti preplavljujuća i postaje očito da je ovo knjiga za one koji o nama znaju vrlo malo ili nimalo, što ne znači da i ovdašnji čitaoci ne mogu u njoj naći radosti. Na primer, zanimljivo je što mogu da prozrem šta stoji iza nekih sasvim intimnih i internih momenata – od pojedinosti vezanih za odrastanje u Žarkovu ili crnogorske porodice, do studentskih dana na Filološkom fakultetu u Beogradu, gde prepoznajem neimenovane ljude o kojima autorka piše. „Černobiljske jagode” su, bez obzira na svoje utemeljenje, često duhovite, neposredne i šarmantne, a čak patetičnost i sfera politike bivaju s merom predstavljene.

Nažalost, prevod Zie Gluhbegović je počesto klimav i to ne samo u odnosu na neodgovarajuća rešenja (npr. umesto izraza sa „koca i konopca” stoji „sa koNca i konopca”), već i što verujem da engleski original poseduje svojevrsnu eleganciju koja ovde nije mogla da dođe do izražaja, iako nije sasvim ispuštena.

Sve u svemu, bliska i, uprkos svim nesavršenostima, potrebna knjiga, sa, radosno ću otkriti – srećnim krajem.

[sisterimapoet · Rating 4 out of 5]

I chose this because I loved the title. The title actually only occurred as a passing reference within the book. However I enjoyed the rest of it a great deal.

I had never heard of Vesna Goldsworthy. I had no reason to encounter her name before. But I'm glad I found her book and got to read a little about her life. I think perhaps the most enjoyable memoirs are those of people you've never heard of. As you know nothing about them, it's like meeting them for the first time.

You find things you have in common with them, you find ways you are different. Reading this felt like a very human interaction.

While I can't obviously seek out more memoirs by Vesna I will seek out other memoirs by people I've never heard of as I enjoyed the encounter immensely.

[Joanna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Moją przygodę z autobiograficznymi “Czarnobylskimi truskawkami” Vesny Goldsworthy doskonale oddaje słynna prawda - “im większe oczekiwanie, tym wieksze rozcarowanie”. Nie przesadzę jeśli powiem, że książka Serbki chodziła za mną już od lat. Świadectwo życia w socjalistycznej Jugosławii, bardzo dobre opinie czytelników - brzmi fenomenalnie, nieprawdaż? Wyobrażałam sobie, że będzie to lektura przesycona tak fascynującą mnie bałkańską historią, kulturą, ówczesną codziennością. I muszę przyznać, że jestem lekko zawiedziona, bo nastawiłam się na zupełnie co innego niż finalnie dostałam. “Czarnobylskie truskawki” to książka bardzo w stylu “Lat” Ernaux - bo i tu i tu autorka przez pryzmat swojego życiorysu opisuje ówczesne społeczeństwo i jego życie codzienne, kulturę, sytuację polityczną i przełomowe przemiany mające miejsce w kraju. Brzmi doskonale, prawda? Owszem, tylko powiedzmy sobie szczerze - Goldsworthy drugą Ernaux nie jest - nie posiada ani jej wybitnie błyskotliwego umysłu i wyostrzonego zmysłu obserwacji, do umiejętności trafnego, poetycko-surowego przelania na papier własnych obserwacji Serbce do Francuzki też daleko. I tak jak u Ernaux uwiodło mnie zgrabne wplecenie w osobistą historię ogromu informacji i o życiu w ówczesnej Francji tak książka Goldsworthy rozczarowała mnie zbytnim skupieniem się na treściach stricte autobiograficznych. Za dużo dla mnie tu jest o życiu prywatnym autorki - w tym o sprawach tak bardzo intymnych, że często czułam się niekomfortowo w trakcie czytania, a za mało o samej Jugosławii. Na szczęście “Czarnobylskie truskawki”  mają i znakomite momenty - m.in. kiedy autorka sięga do dawniejszej historii swojej rodziny, porusza kwestie różnic pokoleniowych czy  rozmaitych nierówności i porównuje zmiany jakie na przestrzeni lat dokonały się w sposobie traktowania kobiet i ich pozycji w społeczeństwie, dostępie do kultury i edukacji, podejściu do tematów “tabu” itd. Równie interesująco wypadają fragmenty opisujące codzienność i przywileje belgradzkich yuppie, ich “bananowych” dzieci oraz rówieśników z niższych klas społecznych.
Z powodu mojej fascynacji Bałkanami koniec końców jestem zadowolona, że sięgnęłam po książkę Goldsworthy jednak nie mogę pogodzić się z niewykorzystanym potencjałem jaki tkwił w tej pozycji - gdyby tylko autorka ograniczyła swoje intymne i mocno chaotyczne wyznania do minimum, a więcej miejsca poświęciła samej Jugosławii, życiu w czasach komunizmu.

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[andreea. · Rating 2 out of 5]

"I have tasted Chernobyl strawberries. Every spring, winds from the Ukraine bring rain to the fruit nurseries in the hills south-west of Belgrade. In the city, the trees and cobblestones glisten. The scent of glowing berries – the colour of fresh wounds and as warm as live blood – spills through the streets around the market square. The fragrance lingers in the rusty tramcars winding their way around the old sugar factory and the promise of summer overpowers for a while the familiar smells of sweat, tobacco, machine oil and polished wood."

[SadieReadsAgain · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ok, so my history with this book is long. I picked it up in the staff room of Waterstones, as we got damaged books for free and this one had a torn dust jacket. I picked it up purely for the title - I'm intrigued by the Chernobyl disaster and what that meant for the people there. This was in 2005. It has sat on my shelf for years, I never got round to it for one reason or another. This year I finally gave myself a shake and picked it up. Spoiler (not really. If, like me, you picked it up due to the title, you really should know this going in) - this book has nothing to do with Chernobyl. It's not even set in the same country. A passing reference is made to making jam with strawberries from Chernobyl, pre-disaster. The author was inspired to write this after a breast cancer diagnosis. The two are not connected to one another.

Confusion and disappointment (and a feeling of being hoodwinked) aside, there is a lot to enjoy in this memoir. Goldsworthy is a Serbian poet, who moved from Belgrade to England in the 80's with her English husband. This is a non-linear collection of family history, autobiography and musings on living under communism, written by Goldsworthy as a personal project for her young son, whilst she worried she would not survive her cancer in order to see him grow up. She explores was it is to come from a country - Yugoslavia - which no longer exists, and how it felt to observe the deconstruction of her home from her newly-adopted country who played a hand in that deconstruction. The mix of cultures from where she came and of which she was made, and the experience of living in a new place whilst feeling both a sense of belonging and otherness are at the core of her story. And although the context in which this memoir is set is huge, her story is told at a very personal level through only her own experiences and that of her family.

This is almost a stream-of-consciousness, jumping as it does from present day to history to childhood, sometimes in the same paragraph. I'm not always a fan of such a fuzzy structure, but in this book it really worked. With Vesna being a poet, I wasn't sure I'd click with her writing. But although there is a lyrical quality, I didn't find it as confusing as I often find poetry. Instead, it elevates this memoir to something really beautiful.

[Biserka · Rating 2 out of 5]

Spisateljica je univerzitetska profesorica jezika i knjizevnosti, ali jedino cime je to ”opravdala” u ovoj knjizi je upotreba riijeci kojima ja uopste nisam znala ni znacenje, i nisam se ni potrudila da saznam, cini mi se potpuno nepotrebnim saznati, niti cu ih upamtiti, niti ima bilo kakve svrhe znati ih ili imati u vokabularu.. Mozda je i do loseg prevoda, iako srpskog porijekla spisateljica pise na engleskom, a neko drugi je knjigu prevodio. Izmedju ostalog se koristio pojmom ”slovenski” umjesto ”slavenski’, ne znam da li je spisateljica uopste procitala prevedenu knjigu, kako joj nije zasmetalo?!
Odbojna mi je snishodljivost prema drustvu u kome je odrasla kao izuzetno privilegovana osoba, a velicanje, ili ulizivanje anglosaksonskim kolonijalistima i sadasnjim tendencijama u oba drustva… Vrhunac odbojnosti mi je bio i podatak da sa svojim sinom prica samo na engleskom..🤦‍♀️
Knjiga su memoari, koje ja i inace bas ne cijenim, mozda sam zato i previse kriticna. Malo ciji zivot mi je bas tako interesantan da bi bio vrijedan napisati knjigu, tu se uvijek vise radi o potrebi pojedinaca da ostave traga.
Vesna je oboljela od raka dojke, i to je vjerovatno bio i povod za pisanje memoara. Srecom je tu bitku dobila, sin je uspio upoznati svoju majku i to je najvaznije od svega

[Slobodan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lepo napisani i čitljivi lični memoari spisateljice. Ali me je tokom čitanja pratio osećaj da 'nešto fali', možda malo bolji opisi nekih događaja ili delova njenog života.. Takođe meni bi prijala neka više hronološki linearna struktura knjige mada je autorka sama objasnila da to upravo nije želela i da su memoari nastali iz njenog spontanog prisećanja glavnih životnih događaja i ljudi.

Njeni memoari su možda i ključ čitanja njenih ostalih knjiga, u kojima se uvek bavi odnosom Istoka i Zapada (Evrope) i njihovim večitim nerazumevanjem i antagonizmom ali i željom za približavanjem i boljim upoznavanjem.

[Aleksandra Szranko · Rating 2 out of 5]

Wiele drzemek zaliczyłam podczas czytania.
Porzuciłabym, ale to była realizacja pragnienia sprzed ~15 lat, z czasów studiów kulturoznawczo-bałkańskich.
Głównie nuda. Nie warto. A przecież bio i repo to mój ulubiony gatunek.

[Natalia Vladimirovna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kako da pristupim recenziji ove knjige koja je memoar? Kako govoriti o nečijim sećanjima? Sećanja o kojima Vesna Goldsvorti piše zaista su kompleksna jer se tiču njenog života u Jugoslaviji, ali i njenog života u Britaniji iz koje je pratila raspad matične države.
Ime memoara Černobiljske jagode ima dvostruko značenje. Jedno se odnosi na njeno telo koje boluje od raka, te je smrtnost sa kojom se suočava razlog zbog kojeg i piše u amanet svome sinu. Drugo značenje se odnosi na državu Jugoslaviju koje kao naizgled utopijsko mesto krije trulež koji će postati vidljiv nakon smrti Tita.
Jagode su takođe simbol laganog detinjstva i mladalačkog zanosa, dok epitet černobiljski ta sećanja pozicionira na istok Evrope.
Knjiga je napisana na engleskom jeziku, a zatim prevedena na srpski jer kako spisateljica kaže ne bi mogla da piše na srpskom, engleski joj daje potrebnu distancu.
Upravo tu distancu i osećam između knjige i sebe. A i Srbi znaju kao kameleoni, ako ih tako naelektrišete da prisvoje drugi jezik, kulturu (Iz sopstvenog primera kažem). Ali i čitava Vesnina porodica nije nužno bila socijalistički nastrojena (Njen otac je govorio "Sačekaj pa ćeš videti"). Upravo je ta politička nekorenitost imam utisak je poput luksuza, prestiža koji je Vesni omogućio da isprva Jugoslaviju ne uzima u obzir dok ubira sve plodove njenog obrazovnog sistema, a zatim i da vrlo lako prisvoji engleski jezik i kulturu, pa tek naknadno nakon njenog propadanja piše o siromaštvu i bedi ispod površine slatke jagode zvane Jugoslavija. I ako nisam živela tokom Jugoslavije, znam da Jugoslavija nikako ne može biti ista različitim ljudima, ona je uvek obojena subjektivnošću, ali iz Vesnine perspektive njene spisateljske sadašnjosti ona je zaista umetnički oblikovana na onaj način koji više odgovara i bliži je stranoj publici. Ima istine da se sopstvena kultura može bolje sagledati iz perspektive onog Drugog, ali njena perspektiva nije mi ništa novo iznela. Meni ostavlja gorak ukus u ustima i mučno sam je sažvakala. Not my cup of tea, što bi rekli Englezi.

[Barbara · Rating 2 out of 5]

In theory, this book should have been right up my street.

In practice, I abandoned it about 1/3 of the way through because it just wasn't delivering anything I'd expected.

Interested in cancer and its possible relationship to the Chernobyl disaster? Big tick in the box. It's probably the only potential causal link for why I got thyroid cancer more than a quarter of a century after being on a field trip in the north of Scotland when the Chernobyl clouds were floating over.

Balkan wars? Another tick in the box. Fascinating stuff and endlessly confusing.

Growing up under a communist regime? Tick - usually very interesting stuff.

So how can one author put together three key themes that really interest me and produce a book that's almost unreadable?

I gave up. I was bored and I felt cheated. How dare she lead me (and many other readers) to expect a book about Chernobyl and then vaguely mention making jam half a continent away in the aftermath of the tragedy? By the time I abandoned the book I hadn't learned anything about her cancer experience (other than it prompted her to write a memoir) nor had I got anything new about the Balkan Wars (she'd left Yugoslavia before that even started).

I'm glad I got it on a free library e-book loan. If I'd spent money on it, I'd have been really disappointed.

[Melinda Elizabeth · Rating 2 out of 5]

For some reason I was expecting this to be a comedic retelling of life in Belgrade, maybe I read synopsis of the wrong book?

Chernobyl Strawberries is the stream of consciousness vanity project that Vesna has embarked upon that perhaps we could have done without. Who is she? Should I know who she is? Typically this type of book would be saved for people who are quite well known and can get away with being a little loose with their narrative.

When she's being witty and telling tales of her Montenegrin grandmother she shares these familial tidbits well, but alas they are few and far between. A lot of the time we are lost in a journey that Vesna takes as she begins to understand her cancer diagnosis and what that means for her future.

The chapters aren't in any discernible order, and chapters themselves are misleading as you end up somewhere completely different than what you would have expected.

[Callum Morris-Horne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought this book based on the title, in the hopes that it would serve my dissertation on Chernobyl mythologies. Unfortunately, there is only the briefest of mentions of the disaster, but fortunately, just the choice of title in interesting in how Chernobyl has become a mythic by-word for displacement and cancer; co-opted to connect crises of national identity and liminal belonging and otherness. Much more is said on the Balkan wars and the loss of Yugoslavia, filtered through the perspective of the author’s personal histories; contexts I knew nothing about but am happy to have learned about in this poignant , life-affirming, learned and funny memoir. I don’t read many autobiographies but I’m glad I read this one, especially as I had no idea who the writer was so it felt like meeting someone completely new without preconceptions.

[Danijela · Rating 4 out of 5]

~ U njegovom svetu, sudbina je nešto što treba da preuzmete u svoje ruke. U mom svetu ona pada iz otvorenog neba kao betonska ploča. ~

~ Ima sećanja koja progone i sećanja koja spavaju poput bebica u malim belim sanducima. Sa godinama koje prolaze, jedan jedini poljubac može da poprimi više značenja nego meseci obnažene kože. ~

~ Svet se jedva micao. Čekala sam da moj život otpočne. Nisam ni u šta previše verovala, ali - zbog razloga koji su mi sada nedokučivi - verovala sam u najvišu moć romantične ljubavi. To je, drugovi, pravi opijum za mase: verovanje da je sudbina, a ne vi, isključivo odgovorna za našu sreću; tvrdoglavo uverenje da će ljubav sve pobediti. Čitav život je potreban da biste ga se otresli. I na Zapadu vam ga prodaju; to je najkorisnije zamajavanje. ~

[Victor Sonkin · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's a memoir by a Serbian literary scholar who married into an English family of ex-colonial soldiers and went to live in England (and also had breast cancer in the early part of this century); I chose to read it because she was on the panel accessing the work of a team I was part of (so, successfully cured, apparently). It was an interesting account of life in Yugoslavia just before it collapsed; of working in the BBC service where people read the news in their own language (and, a little later, their respective languages — what fascinated me was that the division into national teams was based on accent, not ethnicity; it's kind of obvious, but still). For a former "Yugoslavian scholar" like me, it was certainly very educational.

[Milan Kovačević · Rating 5 out of 5]

What can I tell about the book what is not said until now . But I must admit that I read this book for the first time in Serbian, but after some time, I have noticed, that I forgot almost everything what happened in this book. After second reading but this time in English I really felt all power of the book, which in some moments tackled me so deeply that I had to put away the book for some time and to think deeply about our life, and what can one expect from one life. In some moment on our life, especially when one is sick, must one rethink what one has achieved in all his life , and if it is possible to put some words in the book in order to be remembered forever and ever, which is exactly the case with Vesna Golsworty.

[Caryatid · Rating 1 out of 5]

Ending upon a dreary medical note without conclusion I had to check if the author was still alive. She was but in the images section I found every picture with her mouth firmly closed and I wondered if national health was to blame for lack of dental care. I had to suffer a video interview to see a faint smile that confirmed the presence of teeth. I know, a peculiar project but forced on me.

Creative writing this isn't, as others have said, a stream of consciousness and utterly random and in no way impels me to read any other of her works.

Very disappointing for auto/biography readers and the use of the name Chernobyl seems a cheap hook.

[Ivana]

Ja sam prezadovoljna ovom knjigom, sad tek vidim relativno nisku ocenu na goodreadsu. Naime, pripovedanje, da ne kažem zapisi, veoma su zgusnuti i ovo je jedna od retkih knjiga iz koje sam želela da postujem citate ovde, ali sam onda shvatila da ih je previše.

Međutim, ženi sličnog miljea i autorkinih godina se nije naročito dopala ova knjiga, pa mi se čini da to koliko mi se dopada može biti do godina.

Knjiga je puna autoironije i pasusa u kojima autorka ima zanimljiv otklon prema sebi i vremenu; mislim da mi se taj otklon najviše dopao jer ga retko ko od savremenih pisaca ima, a kamoli u dnevnicima/sećanjima/autofikciji.

[Saskia Reimann · Rating 4 out of 5]

I came across this book in research for material for a university exam. Vesnas Goldsworthys stories from her childhood and teenage years in Yugoslavia are beautiful written, even though the cause why she started to write her memoirs is rather a sad one; her cancer diagnosis.

Through her little and big stories, which she tells in an unlinear way, the reader can get a glimpse of Yugoslawia before 1989 and the contemporary Balkan, all told along the colourful life allegory of a strong and intelligent woman.

[Sue Crawford · Rating 4 out of 5]

I frequently struggle with most types of non-fiction so the awarding of 4 stars is indicative of the way Vesna Goldsworthy’s writing is so engaging and readable it drew me in despite myself.
Following a breast cancer diagnosis, Vesna (born and grew up in Yugoslavia) wrote this memoir reflecting on her memories of British and Serbian life with beautiful depictions of characters and personalities; loves and losses and the difference in the way her own British and Serbian personas view what happens around her. Touching, sometimes funny, sometimes tear jerking, this memoir is well worth a read.

[ola ✶ cosmicreads · Rating 2 out of 5]

ta książka jest dosłownie ???, myślałam, że zostanie przedstawiona historia belgradu (z komediowym twistem), a jest o… życiu. autobiografia osoby, o której w życiu nie słyszałam niezbyt do mnie trafia. jeszcze tak dokładna w całej hierarchii i drzewie genealogicznym, ale okropnie niechronologiczna. zostawiam nieprzeczytaną po 1/3 i raczej nie polecam czytać

[Shouty · Rating 5 out of 5]

I ESPECIALLY APPRECIATED THIS TENTH-ANNIVERSARY EDITION BECAUSE VESNA WRITING ABOUT THE CHOICES SHE MADE IN WRITING THE MEMOIR WERE AS INTERESTING TO ME AS THE MEMOIR ITSELF (DO NOT EXPECT A TON ABOUT CHERNOBYL THO -- IT GETS AT THEMES OF CANCER AND DISPLACEMENT EVOKED BY THAT WORD BUT IT'S NOT DIRECTLY ABOUT THE DISASTER AT ALL)

[Ruza Minić · Rating 5 out of 5]

Српикња удата за Британца пише о јагодама које је јела пролећа када је била чернобиљска катастрофа и каснијем обољевању од рака... врло потресно, али и поучно...

[Gina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you Vesna Goldsworthy for this wonderful memoir. I knew nothing about Serbia, and now I do. An engrossing, interesting and very satisfying read

[Farren · Rating 4 out of 5]

For a class; enjoyed it!

[Petrichor · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐ not great not terrible 🍓

[Ruby · Rating 3 out of 5]

I picked this book up at a free bookstore in Exeter, England, and I would fly all the way across the pond just to go there again.

[Tanja · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was waiting for me...I tried to buy it several times through Amazon, which was always a bit too complicated, so I decided to wait. Then I visited a great bookshop Charlie Byrnes in Galway and after getting already too many books, I turned my head on one of the shelves and the only piece of Goldsworthy's book was there! I didn't hesitate :)))...

I was reading Vesna's book Inventing Ruritania on Western's stereotypes about Easter Europe in fiction some years ago. This more academic volume made me interested about the author's personal story who moved from Serbia to UK. Strawberries fulfilled that gap. The book is well written and I especially liked the comparisons between two poles of Europe, which are intentionally stereotypical...For example, she focuses on the notion of destiny which would be in the Balkans depicted as stg given from the stars, while British perception gives more strength into hands of individuals who are responsible for their own "destiny". I also liked the comparison of older generation, her Montenegrian grandmother who had no problems communicating with author's father in law even though she could not say a word in English. A special element of the autobiography is definitely author's illness. She decided to write a book after examination that she has a cancer.

In the beginning the book did not seem to be very promissing. I thought it is just another book from the former Yugoslavia which will confirm all possible stereotypes and differences read for million times. But after the first two chapters, the story turned into personal perception of the two words in which in the end I could easily find myself.

[Octavia Cade · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautifully written memoir from a Serbian poet. Although the author writes of her struggle with cancer, her coverage of the war in the former Yugoslavia, and her emigration to England, the bulk of this book concerns the lives of her family members - and her own life as an adolescent and young adult. Aside from the language, I particularly enjoyed the non-linear narrative. It's personal preference, of course, but I tend to find that structuring a story on emotion - and stitching up time and space and subject matter according to that emotion, not a strict temporal reading of events - very appealing.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting memoir about pre 1991 Belgrade and Yugoslavia. Goldsworthy was born and grew up in Communist Yugoslavia and moves to London in the late 80's to live with her husband. In the 1990's she was a Serbian translator and announcer on the BBC's world service as the Balkan war rages sharing office space with Croats and Bosnians. she writes the memoir in the early 2000's shortly after the birth of her son as she is diagnosed with breast cancer so her child may know her story if she doesn't survive.
The story is not linear it flits around but I found it a really interesting picture of the country and how Goldsworthy views her country from the distance of life in Britain whilst the horrors affect her homeland at that time. Some of these are described with humour as she speaks for example to her father over the phone as bombs are falling on Belgrade, and she tells anecdotes about life in Communist era Yugoslavia. A poignant picture of a country that the writer clearly loves with perhaps a sense of guilt expressed that she has escaped before the country was destroyed.

[Louise Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really enjoyed the story extremely touching and gives people the insight of Chernobyl and the war in yugosalvia hard to remember the country now as it once was I have promised this to my friend I enjoyed it as a good mixture of sadness and happiness . I never used to have an interest in other countries and their conflicts but this interested me gave the view of one not many which can be more touching sometimes I would deffo read more by her !!