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304 pages, Hardcover
Published August 6, 2024
neither
TO AND FRO in shadow from inner to outershadow
from impenetrable self to impenetrable unself by way of neither
as between two lit refuges whose doors once neared gently close, once turned away from gently part again beckoned back and forth and turned away
heedless of the way, intent on the one gleam or the other
unheard footfalls only sound
till at last halt for good, absent for good from self and other
then no sound
then gently light unfading on that unheeded neither
unspeakable home
SAMUEL BECKETT
Historically, the Balkans — that gorgeous, ungovernable, godforsaken peninsula always in turmoil, always on the fringes of civilizations, always a broken-up borderland — had for centuries been a place to survive, endure. It had also been a place to fail to escape from and — both because and in spite of this — to love fiercely. If you were from this lush volatility, chances were you’d in some way participate in at least one war — two or even three if God really had it in for you and gave you a long life.
The complexity of the narrative structure that involves not only multiple levels of diegesis and various diegetic combinations discussed by Genette but also an unusual correlation between verifiable reality and fiction, invites theoretical speculation primarily concerning elements that can be qualified as ‘disruptive’ to the memoir, related to trauma.
I’m not writing a biopic here; this is not that kind of story and mine is not that kind of life. I’ve got my conciliatory designs on the synapses between life and story of life — my own timid, wide-eyed attempt at living it — which is why I’m compelled to leave my sketches in, to show the work, as it were. If you spend your time on Earth trying to understand how you fit in life instead of living it, then to you, trying to understand is living, and what you’re reading is that hard admittance.