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Three Elegies For Kosovo
28 June 1389, the Field of the Blackbirds. A Christian army made up of Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians and Romanians confront an Ottoman army. In ten hours the battle is over, and the Muslims possess the field; an outcome that has haunted the vanquished ever since.
28 June 1989, the Serb Leader Slobodan Milosevic launches his campaign for a fresh massacre of the Albanians, the majority population of Kosovo.
In three short narratives Kadare shows how legends of betrayal and defeat simmered in European civilisation for six hundred years, culminating in the agony of one tiny population at the end of the twentieth century.
98 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1998
About the author
Ismail Kadare
263 books1,845 followersIsmail Kadare (also spelled Kadaré) was an Albanian novelist and poet. He has been a leading literary figure in Albania since the 1960s. He focused on short stories until the publication of his first novel, The General of the Dead Army. In 1996 he became a lifetime member of the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences of France. In 1992, he was awarded the Prix mondial Cino Del Duca; in 2005, he won the inaugural Man Booker International Prize, in 2009 the Prince of Asturias Award of Arts, and in 2015 the Jerusalem Prize. He has divided his time between Albania and France since 1990. Kadare has been mentioned as a possible recipient for the Nobel Prize in Literature several times. His works have been published in about 30 languages.
Ismail Kadare was born in 1936 in Gjirokastër, in the south of Albania. His education included studies at the University of Tirana and then the Gorky Institute for World Literature in Moscow, a training school for writers and critics.
In 1960 Kadare returned to Albania after the country broke ties with the Soviet Union, and he became a journalist and published his first poems.
His first novel, The General of the Dead Army, sprang from a short story, and its success established his name in Albania and enabled Kadare to become a full-time writer.
Kadare's novels draw on Balkan history and legends. They are obliquely ironic as a result of trying to withstand political scrutiny. Among his best known books are Chronicle in Stone (1977), Broken April (1978), and The Concert (1988), considered the best novel of the year 1991 by the French literary magazine Lire.
In 1990, Kadare claimed political asylum in France, issuing statements in favour of democratisation. During the ordeal, he stated that "dictatorship and authentic literature are incompatible. The writer is the natural enemy of dictatorship."
Ismail Kadare was born in 1936 in Gjirokastër, in the south of Albania. His education included studies at the University of Tirana and then the Gorky Institute for World Literature in Moscow, a training school for writers and critics.
In 1960 Kadare returned to Albania after the country broke ties with the Soviet Union, and he became a journalist and published his first poems.
His first novel, The General of the Dead Army, sprang from a short story, and its success established his name in Albania and enabled Kadare to become a full-time writer.
Kadare's novels draw on Balkan history and legends. They are obliquely ironic as a result of trying to withstand political scrutiny. Among his best known books are Chronicle in Stone (1977), Broken April (1978), and The Concert (1988), considered the best novel of the year 1991 by the French literary magazine Lire.
In 1990, Kadare claimed political asylum in France, issuing statements in favour of democratisation. During the ordeal, he stated that "dictatorship and authentic literature are incompatible. The writer is the natural enemy of dictatorship."
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October 17, 2019
I know this is a crazed suspicion and yet, in this non-existence in which I am, I beg you: Finally grant me oblivion, My Lord! Make them remove my blood from these cold plains. And not just the leaden vessel, but make them dig up the earth around where my tent stood, where drops of my blood spattered the ground. O Lord, hear my prayer! Take away all the mud around here, for even a few drops of blood are enough to hold all the memory of the world.
It was another exhausting day at office, and I wanted to take refuge by immersing myself in something moderate which could have been finished in one sitting. I was going through my options- Calvino, Proust, Orwell etc were some the authors whose works I went through. On that day Three Elegies For Kosovo, which was ordered by me a few days ago, landed in my hands. Though Ismail Kadare already made his presence in my cerebral space as I wanted to read The General of Dead Army but initially I decided to get taste of prose with something short and here Three Elegies For Kosovo got fit in to my scheme of things. The book props up itself as a pleasant surprise to my literary curiosity. The road from the Turkish capital to Venice was long, and to carry both truths and lies at the same time was not easy. The story has background of battle between a Christian army made up of Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians and Romanians with an Ottoman army, built upon soup of rumors which were carried through history, only to produced a highly condensed prose out of different ages and regions of time of fire burning throughout the central peninsula of Asia. The battle lasted only one day, but the Turkish leader Sultan Murad was killed, and the Turks left. (They returned 150 years later, took the whole of the Balkans, and stayed for 400 years.) The battle is described by three narrators - Turkish, Serbian, Albanian - in three short sections. For the following six centuries, the Serbs and the Albanians have been fighting over Kosovo.
Time has flown. Five hundred years passed since the day I fell. Then give hundred and seventy. Then six hundred. I am still alone, alone in my tomb with the flame of the charred oil lamp, while their din, like the roar of the sea, never ends.
The narrative keeps on shifting from one side to another through unreliable rumors only to produce disturbing but quite moving, dense prose crafted after extracting the whole history of Serbs and Albania. The story has been written like a war reportage in which you witness the abominable acts of humanity straight with your naked eyes, a sense chill enters your consciousness which is entirely inhabited by the ‘great’ war whose climax stabbed a knife into your wretched heart at its fag end. Men who have thrown away their weapons crouched down by corpses to snatch up their swords, only to throw them again a few steps later. Everyone but the dead are trying to escape from the cursed plain. Through the darkness trudged officers who have torn off their insignis, now doubly hidden, and soldiers, cooks, carriers of secrets that no longer serve a purpose, keepers of the official seal, assassins who have not been able to play their trade, and army clerics whose terror has driven them insane, and madmen whose terror has brought them back to sanity. We witness a profound calamity like an apocalypse- people are reduced to numbers as no one knows anymore whose side one is fighting from. The demolition of humanity is portrayed through poetic tragedy which has wry humor wrapped in itself. History has lost its meaning as what purpose history will serve to the life which has been transformed into spirits and graves by the obnoxious achievements of humanity. Profound sadness springs up from lahuta which otherwise could have given birth to harmony and bliss but only the tomes of torture and solitude of human existence come out of it.
For an instant, isolated, sorrowful notes rose up. Then came the words. Gjorg saw Vladan’ face turn spectral white. And the words, heavy as ancient headstones, were filed with sorrow. “Serbs, to arms! The Albanians are taking Kosovo from us!”
The Serbian and Albanian are prisoners of history in which they are tied to each other by ancient chains which they could not and do not want to break. Kadare explains the outside world's regularly jumbled perspective on Kosovo, by attempting to comprehend both the contemporary reality and the long, blood-recolored course that went before it. Its medieval setting proposes a sheltered good ways from ongoing issues, yet what the skirmishes of the story uncover relates straightforwardly to the issues of Kosovo in the advanced world. In an angled manner, Kadare bit by bit investigates the Balkan countries and their domains, religions, narratives and societies. He hence destabilizes the inescapable European story which expels Kosovo and its encompassing countries as a district of upset war hawks undauntedly clutching the memory of notable division. The narrative takes birth, from quieted open tensions to a submersion in the warmth of contention, with the subsequent requiem diagramming the feelings of the Balkan minstrels who experience the fight against the Turks; their inevitable torment because of misfortune on account of the trespassers, and their consequent outcast. Every point of view is permeated with genuineness and humankind, consequently undermining the viewpoint which engenders brutality through legendary defenses blended with over the top patriotism.
The minstrels of the Christian army plays important role in the second elegy as they flee from the Turkish attackers to mark antipathy which haunts the people of Central Asian Peninsula throughout the history. Kadare has used the folk instruments such as gusla and lahuta through which the voices of minstrels take birth, having satirical tone allegorical to the existence of life through its cultural identity and pride outside the sphere of nationalism. The tales or songs recited by minstrels are wondrous, at times cruel and chilling, and at times filled with sorrow. These tales bring to your mind the Greek tragedies as they are of the same diamond dust, the same seed. A simple treasure chest, like the one in which any feudal lord hides his gold coins, was quite big enough to hold all these tragedies. And yet, not only had they not been preserved, but over the centuries they had been scattered, these tragedies that would have made the world, in other words, its spirit, twice as beautiful.. The lands from which the unfortunate minstrels come are devoid of any ancient theaters now, no tragedies left. There are only scattered fragments. The Balkan minstrels continue their tales and in order to be accepted they have forgotten the insults, and humbly most awkwardly, beg to be one of them. Kadare implicitly proposes that their salvation will come through a confrontation with their own dark history; a progressive alternative to a debilitating partisan reinterpretation of the past. They could not break out of the mould. Besides which, they will first consult their elders, consult the dead who they could met only in dreams now. Kadare additionally addresses the locale's status as an intercession zone between the East and the West, featuring the frightful strict enthusiasm which appears to administer the relations between Christianity, Judaism and Islam. He relates the deadly destruction of Ibrahim, a pluralistic and moderate strict figure, whose execution metonymically envelops an issue which the two frequents and rises above Kosovo.
We are dead, brother!” he heard Vladan’s voice say. “Do you believe me now, that we are nothing but spirits?”
As it was my first attempt at Kadare’s world but I was left spellbound with the surreal prose of the author having elements of wry humor, abandonment, solitude and political unrest carefully wrapped in the tapestry of poetic but absurd voices which cry over existential agonies of spirits who have become prisoners of graves. The book though is quite short but profound enough to shake us up over the suffering people of the region endured, deftly executed by Kadare leaving us with a profound sadness sprung up from the melancholic voices, coming from the traditional folk instruments (which acts like divine carriers of antagonism of people), which strike like a dagger straight in to the heart only to realize that its our own shame we are staring at.
I remained more solitary than ever, with the pale flame of the lamp above me, a sorrowful crown.
Recommended for those who want to delve into history of Balkan-Turkish.
4/5
It was another exhausting day at office, and I wanted to take refuge by immersing myself in something moderate which could have been finished in one sitting. I was going through my options- Calvino, Proust, Orwell etc were some the authors whose works I went through. On that day Three Elegies For Kosovo, which was ordered by me a few days ago, landed in my hands. Though Ismail Kadare already made his presence in my cerebral space as I wanted to read The General of Dead Army but initially I decided to get taste of prose with something short and here Three Elegies For Kosovo got fit in to my scheme of things. The book props up itself as a pleasant surprise to my literary curiosity. The road from the Turkish capital to Venice was long, and to carry both truths and lies at the same time was not easy. The story has background of battle between a Christian army made up of Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians and Romanians with an Ottoman army, built upon soup of rumors which were carried through history, only to produced a highly condensed prose out of different ages and regions of time of fire burning throughout the central peninsula of Asia. The battle lasted only one day, but the Turkish leader Sultan Murad was killed, and the Turks left. (They returned 150 years later, took the whole of the Balkans, and stayed for 400 years.) The battle is described by three narrators - Turkish, Serbian, Albanian - in three short sections. For the following six centuries, the Serbs and the Albanians have been fighting over Kosovo.
Time has flown. Five hundred years passed since the day I fell. Then give hundred and seventy. Then six hundred. I am still alone, alone in my tomb with the flame of the charred oil lamp, while their din, like the roar of the sea, never ends.
The narrative keeps on shifting from one side to another through unreliable rumors only to produce disturbing but quite moving, dense prose crafted after extracting the whole history of Serbs and Albania. The story has been written like a war reportage in which you witness the abominable acts of humanity straight with your naked eyes, a sense chill enters your consciousness which is entirely inhabited by the ‘great’ war whose climax stabbed a knife into your wretched heart at its fag end. Men who have thrown away their weapons crouched down by corpses to snatch up their swords, only to throw them again a few steps later. Everyone but the dead are trying to escape from the cursed plain. Through the darkness trudged officers who have torn off their insignis, now doubly hidden, and soldiers, cooks, carriers of secrets that no longer serve a purpose, keepers of the official seal, assassins who have not been able to play their trade, and army clerics whose terror has driven them insane, and madmen whose terror has brought them back to sanity. We witness a profound calamity like an apocalypse- people are reduced to numbers as no one knows anymore whose side one is fighting from. The demolition of humanity is portrayed through poetic tragedy which has wry humor wrapped in itself. History has lost its meaning as what purpose history will serve to the life which has been transformed into spirits and graves by the obnoxious achievements of humanity. Profound sadness springs up from lahuta which otherwise could have given birth to harmony and bliss but only the tomes of torture and solitude of human existence come out of it.
For an instant, isolated, sorrowful notes rose up. Then came the words. Gjorg saw Vladan’ face turn spectral white. And the words, heavy as ancient headstones, were filed with sorrow. “Serbs, to arms! The Albanians are taking Kosovo from us!”
The Serbian and Albanian are prisoners of history in which they are tied to each other by ancient chains which they could not and do not want to break. Kadare explains the outside world's regularly jumbled perspective on Kosovo, by attempting to comprehend both the contemporary reality and the long, blood-recolored course that went before it. Its medieval setting proposes a sheltered good ways from ongoing issues, yet what the skirmishes of the story uncover relates straightforwardly to the issues of Kosovo in the advanced world. In an angled manner, Kadare bit by bit investigates the Balkan countries and their domains, religions, narratives and societies. He hence destabilizes the inescapable European story which expels Kosovo and its encompassing countries as a district of upset war hawks undauntedly clutching the memory of notable division. The narrative takes birth, from quieted open tensions to a submersion in the warmth of contention, with the subsequent requiem diagramming the feelings of the Balkan minstrels who experience the fight against the Turks; their inevitable torment because of misfortune on account of the trespassers, and their consequent outcast. Every point of view is permeated with genuineness and humankind, consequently undermining the viewpoint which engenders brutality through legendary defenses blended with over the top patriotism.
The minstrels of the Christian army plays important role in the second elegy as they flee from the Turkish attackers to mark antipathy which haunts the people of Central Asian Peninsula throughout the history. Kadare has used the folk instruments such as gusla and lahuta through which the voices of minstrels take birth, having satirical tone allegorical to the existence of life through its cultural identity and pride outside the sphere of nationalism. The tales or songs recited by minstrels are wondrous, at times cruel and chilling, and at times filled with sorrow. These tales bring to your mind the Greek tragedies as they are of the same diamond dust, the same seed. A simple treasure chest, like the one in which any feudal lord hides his gold coins, was quite big enough to hold all these tragedies. And yet, not only had they not been preserved, but over the centuries they had been scattered, these tragedies that would have made the world, in other words, its spirit, twice as beautiful.. The lands from which the unfortunate minstrels come are devoid of any ancient theaters now, no tragedies left. There are only scattered fragments. The Balkan minstrels continue their tales and in order to be accepted they have forgotten the insults, and humbly most awkwardly, beg to be one of them. Kadare implicitly proposes that their salvation will come through a confrontation with their own dark history; a progressive alternative to a debilitating partisan reinterpretation of the past. They could not break out of the mould. Besides which, they will first consult their elders, consult the dead who they could met only in dreams now. Kadare additionally addresses the locale's status as an intercession zone between the East and the West, featuring the frightful strict enthusiasm which appears to administer the relations between Christianity, Judaism and Islam. He relates the deadly destruction of Ibrahim, a pluralistic and moderate strict figure, whose execution metonymically envelops an issue which the two frequents and rises above Kosovo.
We are dead, brother!” he heard Vladan’s voice say. “Do you believe me now, that we are nothing but spirits?”
As it was my first attempt at Kadare’s world but I was left spellbound with the surreal prose of the author having elements of wry humor, abandonment, solitude and political unrest carefully wrapped in the tapestry of poetic but absurd voices which cry over existential agonies of spirits who have become prisoners of graves. The book though is quite short but profound enough to shake us up over the suffering people of the region endured, deftly executed by Kadare leaving us with a profound sadness sprung up from the melancholic voices, coming from the traditional folk instruments (which acts like divine carriers of antagonism of people), which strike like a dagger straight in to the heart only to realize that its our own shame we are staring at.
I remained more solitary than ever, with the pale flame of the lamp above me, a sorrowful crown.
Recommended for those who want to delve into history of Balkan-Turkish.
4/5
September 4, 2016
This novel traces back the long thread of ethnic problems in this region. It is also a look at the process of war - and how that process so often gains a momentum that defies logic. This book would be of particular interest to those interested in international relations and conflict resolution. A book that has a powerful message.
July 15, 2015
This short and devastating novel of the year 1389 in the region of the Balkan Peninsula is in the form of three stories. A great battle commenced in late June of 1389 in which the Serbs, Bosnians, Croats, Albanian and Hungarian troops were routed by the Turks. The Turkish Sultan, Murad I, and his eldest son were believed to be murdered by their own troops because of a difference in opinion about the direction of the empire. Murad’s blood was spilled on that plain in Kosovo, nourishing the ancient hatreds that grew there like weeds.
Told in simple and elegant prose, the story relates these ancient hatreds and impresses upon the reader how the oral traditions of the martial minstrels of the region managed to keep the conflict immortal with their songs. Ismail Kadare, born in 1936, is Muslim by birth in an area of Albania that was primarily Christian. In a 1998 Paris Review interview, Kadare talks a little about the Albanian language and its literary traditions—how it had been mostly oral.
The wide-ranging interview is helpful in understanding what Kadare was saying in this novel. When it was written in the 1990s, the plains of Kosovo were again suffering under the onslaught of warring factions attacking each other "like beasts freed from their iron chains." Kadare, who had much experience writing under repressive regimes (he studied writing in the USSR, and later published work under the regime of Enver Hoxha in Albania) believed that fiction might be able to accomplish the impossible, like change a regime.
In a review published in Britain’s The Independent in 1999, Kadare says that "personal freedom for the writer is not so important. It is not individual freedom that guarantees the greatness of literature…" We know this to be true, of course, though literature can also be nourished in a less repressive atmosphere. Kadare took the route of writing elliptical allegorical pieces that were more difficult to interpret, like Chinese writers have been forced to do for decades. In fact, Kadare’s work was so elliptical, some reviewers could mistake his meaning for support of the repressive regime.
Kadare claims this was never his intention. Maria Margaronis, who writes for The Nation suggests in a review for the online magazine EXPLORINGfictions that Kadare’s “Great Lady” in this novel was in fact Madeline Albright, U.S. Secretary of State at the time of the war in Yugoslavia, and that Kadare was again writing allegorically and elliptically in support of U.S. intervention to stop the war. Maragonis goes on to say
Let’s say this: Kadare writes fiction eloquently, clearly, and persuasively. I hope to look further into his work.
A note on the translation: it was done by the incomparable Peter Constantine, who deserves full kudos for retaining the beauty of the language.
"These tales bring to mind the Greek tragedies," [the Great Lady] said in a low voice. “They are of the same diamond dust, the same seed."
"What are these Greek tragedies?" the lord of the castle asked.
She sighed deeply and said that they were perhaps the greatest wealth of mankind. A simple treasure chest, like the one in which any feudal lord hides his gold coins…"
Told in simple and elegant prose, the story relates these ancient hatreds and impresses upon the reader how the oral traditions of the martial minstrels of the region managed to keep the conflict immortal with their songs. Ismail Kadare, born in 1936, is Muslim by birth in an area of Albania that was primarily Christian. In a 1998 Paris Review interview, Kadare talks a little about the Albanian language and its literary traditions—how it had been mostly oral.
The wide-ranging interview is helpful in understanding what Kadare was saying in this novel. When it was written in the 1990s, the plains of Kosovo were again suffering under the onslaught of warring factions attacking each other "like beasts freed from their iron chains." Kadare, who had much experience writing under repressive regimes (he studied writing in the USSR, and later published work under the regime of Enver Hoxha in Albania) believed that fiction might be able to accomplish the impossible, like change a regime.
In a review published in Britain’s The Independent in 1999, Kadare says that "personal freedom for the writer is not so important. It is not individual freedom that guarantees the greatness of literature…" We know this to be true, of course, though literature can also be nourished in a less repressive atmosphere. Kadare took the route of writing elliptical allegorical pieces that were more difficult to interpret, like Chinese writers have been forced to do for decades. In fact, Kadare’s work was so elliptical, some reviewers could mistake his meaning for support of the repressive regime.
Kadare claims this was never his intention. Maria Margaronis, who writes for The Nation suggests in a review for the online magazine EXPLORINGfictions that Kadare’s “Great Lady” in this novel was in fact Madeline Albright, U.S. Secretary of State at the time of the war in Yugoslavia, and that Kadare was again writing allegorically and elliptically in support of U.S. intervention to stop the war. Maragonis goes on to say
"But Kadare, of all writers, was uniquely well placed to express in fiction the contradictions facing his people in the post-cold war world. Instead he has chosen to continue the old game, throwing in his lot with those who see the Balkans as a cauldron of atavistic hatreds while claiming favored status for his own tribe. In the long run, this does the Albanians no favors."
Let’s say this: Kadare writes fiction eloquently, clearly, and persuasively. I hope to look further into his work.
A note on the translation: it was done by the incomparable Peter Constantine, who deserves full kudos for retaining the beauty of the language.
July 9, 2021
Murad I https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murad_I
the battle https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_...
the most recent war-mess https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kosovo_War
June 1389, on a foggy field in Kosovo, called the Field of the Blackbirds, sultan Murad I’s Ottoman army meet the Balkan forces. He wins the battle, but its tragedy lives on (to 1998, when this book came out, and quite likely continues on at some point cos wars are like that in the Balkans). Three stories: the course of the battle, from first rumors of it happening to the last reports about it to the Pope… an Albanian lehute player wanders off the battle and on his way somewhere is asked to entertain a noble lady with troubling thoughts… and we get to witness .
The last story really nails the point of the story completely home: things This story was my favorite of the three, the most musing, getting the point of the story, and the shortest too.
A good choice to read as one’s first Kadare book, and a nicely short one too. The message is clear, and the length of the novel reflect the tone of the words very well. I remember how I felt about the 1990s war, and I think that helps me appreciate this slim book. Recommended.
the battle https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_...
the most recent war-mess https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kosovo_War
June 1389, on a foggy field in Kosovo, called the Field of the Blackbirds, sultan Murad I’s Ottoman army meet the Balkan forces. He wins the battle, but its tragedy lives on (to 1998, when this book came out, and quite likely continues on at some point cos wars are like that in the Balkans). Three stories: the course of the battle, from first rumors of it happening to the last reports about it to the Pope… an Albanian lehute player wanders off the battle and on his way somewhere is asked to entertain a noble lady with troubling thoughts… and we get to witness .
The last story really nails the point of the story completely home: things This story was my favorite of the three, the most musing, getting the point of the story, and the shortest too.
A good choice to read as one’s first Kadare book, and a nicely short one too. The message is clear, and the length of the novel reflect the tone of the words very well. I remember how I felt about the 1990s war, and I think that helps me appreciate this slim book. Recommended.
August 8, 2018
There's more in this small book than the 100 of pages I have read of the Balkans. Most of the Western view is based on folklore and misunderstanding. The reasons are vague, the participants of the 1389 Battle not sure of why they were there, power begat greed, and so on. Quite a brilliant book.
Read
August 17, 2021• ELEGY FOR KOSOVO by Ismail Kadare, translated from the Albanian by Peter Constantine, 1998.
#ReadtheWorld21📍Albania
"[She saw the peninsula that] was being called 'Balkan'. She saw clearly the regions from which the poor wandering fugitives had come: Croatia, Albania, Serbia, Greece, Bosnia, Walachia, Macedonia. From now on they would carry a new name, fossilized and ponderous, on their backs like a curse as they stumbled along like a tortoise in its shell..."
Kadare's epic "reimagining" of the Battle of Kosovo in 1389, when Serbian Prince Lazar Hrebeljanović fought the invading Ottoman army under the command of Sultan Murad Hüdavendigâr. The Turkish won the battle, securing their hold in the Balkans, expanding the Ottoman Empire into Europe.
Told in three interwoven short stories, we see the battle from different viewpoints:
1) "The Ancient Battle" describes military and political leaders and the battle's events.
2) "The Great Lady" focuses on two minstrels - one Albanian and the other Serbian - and how they re/write the story of the Battle in epic poetry and song according to their perspectives.
3) "The Royal Prayer" takes on the omniscient voice of Sultan Murad, the Ottoman ruler killed in the Battle as he sees the Balkan region through history, alluding to 1990s Kosovo and the Balkans Wars and the use (and romanticization and misuse) of this Battle legend in Serbian and Albanian national discourse.
I knew very little about this Battle and the Ottoman expansion into the Balkans, and appreciated Kadare's "take" and am increasingly curious to read some more on this history.
Kadare is a very profilic and well-known writer, and past winner of the Booker International Prize. He's an author I've been "meaning" to get to for a long while, so I'm glad that RTW21 afforded the opportunity.
ELEGY captures that epic medieval poetry, and the language & translation mirror this formality & oral history/mythology. This book is likely different from his other works, but may have similar themes of the personal/political and use of mythology as allegory.
Eager to read more of his work to compare.
#ReadtheWorld21📍Albania
"[She saw the peninsula that] was being called 'Balkan'. She saw clearly the regions from which the poor wandering fugitives had come: Croatia, Albania, Serbia, Greece, Bosnia, Walachia, Macedonia. From now on they would carry a new name, fossilized and ponderous, on their backs like a curse as they stumbled along like a tortoise in its shell..."
Kadare's epic "reimagining" of the Battle of Kosovo in 1389, when Serbian Prince Lazar Hrebeljanović fought the invading Ottoman army under the command of Sultan Murad Hüdavendigâr. The Turkish won the battle, securing their hold in the Balkans, expanding the Ottoman Empire into Europe.
Told in three interwoven short stories, we see the battle from different viewpoints:
1) "The Ancient Battle" describes military and political leaders and the battle's events.
2) "The Great Lady" focuses on two minstrels - one Albanian and the other Serbian - and how they re/write the story of the Battle in epic poetry and song according to their perspectives.
3) "The Royal Prayer" takes on the omniscient voice of Sultan Murad, the Ottoman ruler killed in the Battle as he sees the Balkan region through history, alluding to 1990s Kosovo and the Balkans Wars and the use (and romanticization and misuse) of this Battle legend in Serbian and Albanian national discourse.
I knew very little about this Battle and the Ottoman expansion into the Balkans, and appreciated Kadare's "take" and am increasingly curious to read some more on this history.
Kadare is a very profilic and well-known writer, and past winner of the Booker International Prize. He's an author I've been "meaning" to get to for a long while, so I'm glad that RTW21 afforded the opportunity.
ELEGY captures that epic medieval poetry, and the language & translation mirror this formality & oral history/mythology. This book is likely different from his other works, but may have similar themes of the personal/political and use of mythology as allegory.
Eager to read more of his work to compare.
July 18, 2017
On 28 June 1389, on the plains of Kosovo, the Ottoman army of Sultan Murad I defeated the combined forces of all the Christian lands between Greece and Italy - for the possession of what is today known as the Balkans but what was then a peninsula without a name - "IIlyricum"? "New Byzantium"? "Alpania"? "Great Slavonia"? It was the name given by the Turks that stuck, and that has come down to us through history: the Balkans.
Although a total rout, Murad somehow contrived to lose his life on the field of battle. Of his two sons who accompanied him to the Plain of the Blackbirds, Yakub also died, leaving Bayezid to ascend to the Ottoman throne. The victorious army went back to Asia Minor, but not without leaving behind the blood and guts of the dead sultan, which to this day lies buried in a mausoleum in Kosovo, a couple of miles outside the capital Prishtina.
Kadare wrote this book at the end of the 1990s, when the latest Balkan civil wars had just come to an end. As the ghost of Murad looks back on 600 years of horror and internecine bloodshed, he laments:
"Allah, I have been so tired for over six hundred years now, a Muslim monarch all alone in the middle of the vast Christian expanses. During my worst hours I am seized by the suspicion that maybe my blood is the origin of all this horror. I know this is a crazed suspicion, and yet, in this nonexistence in which I am, I beg you: Finally grant me oblivion, my Lord! Make them remove my blood from these cold plains. And not just the leaden vessel, but make them dig up the earth around where my tent stood, where drops of my blood spattered the ground. O Lord, hear my prayer! Take away all the mud around here, for even a few drops of blood are enough to hold all the memory of the world."
This is a slim book, but nonetheless Kadare gets to the marrow of the matter as only an insider can. An Albanian Muslim but not any ordinary Sunni, but belonging to the Sufistic Bektashi sect, he has the emotional distance and intellectual ammo to make some sense of the millennial nonsense perpetrated there in the name of blood and creed. Visiting Sarajevo last year, surrounded by the towering blonde gods and goddesses that pass for the natives of the region, I was struck by my friend's terrible despair, the hopelessness of living in a country that is chopped in half, its possibilities truncated, part of Europe but never quite, shunned, pushed aside and locked out, and always, always on the brink of a fresh round of bloodletting.
Kadare understands these atavistic hatreds, best expressed in the inflexible songs of the bards on the battlefield. (The second section takes up that story: the flight of the troubadours, Albanian Gjorg and Serbian Vladan, to the relative safety of Germania.) Even as the Ottomans are kicking their ass, the Serbs rail against the Albanians and the Albanians sing imprecations at the Serbs. Exactly six centuries after Kosovo Polje - 28 June 1989 - Slobodan Milosevic delivered the Gazimestan speech at the site of the battle, a repetition of those same old songs and an early warning of the savagery that was soon to engulf the region. 28 June continues to be an emotive day loaded with many layers of meaning; Gavrilo Princip too did his history-changing bit of handiwork on that day in 1914, on the bank of the beautiful Miljacka river.
My only complaint is that the book is too short; eventually I would like to read a fuller fictional analysis of the Balkans from someone as insightful as Kadare, but for a starter course, this is quite perfect. Dogs licking the honeyed heels of dead horses - where else would you find such spectacular imagery???
Although a total rout, Murad somehow contrived to lose his life on the field of battle. Of his two sons who accompanied him to the Plain of the Blackbirds, Yakub also died, leaving Bayezid to ascend to the Ottoman throne. The victorious army went back to Asia Minor, but not without leaving behind the blood and guts of the dead sultan, which to this day lies buried in a mausoleum in Kosovo, a couple of miles outside the capital Prishtina.
Kadare wrote this book at the end of the 1990s, when the latest Balkan civil wars had just come to an end. As the ghost of Murad looks back on 600 years of horror and internecine bloodshed, he laments:
"Allah, I have been so tired for over six hundred years now, a Muslim monarch all alone in the middle of the vast Christian expanses. During my worst hours I am seized by the suspicion that maybe my blood is the origin of all this horror. I know this is a crazed suspicion, and yet, in this nonexistence in which I am, I beg you: Finally grant me oblivion, my Lord! Make them remove my blood from these cold plains. And not just the leaden vessel, but make them dig up the earth around where my tent stood, where drops of my blood spattered the ground. O Lord, hear my prayer! Take away all the mud around here, for even a few drops of blood are enough to hold all the memory of the world."
This is a slim book, but nonetheless Kadare gets to the marrow of the matter as only an insider can. An Albanian Muslim but not any ordinary Sunni, but belonging to the Sufistic Bektashi sect, he has the emotional distance and intellectual ammo to make some sense of the millennial nonsense perpetrated there in the name of blood and creed. Visiting Sarajevo last year, surrounded by the towering blonde gods and goddesses that pass for the natives of the region, I was struck by my friend's terrible despair, the hopelessness of living in a country that is chopped in half, its possibilities truncated, part of Europe but never quite, shunned, pushed aside and locked out, and always, always on the brink of a fresh round of bloodletting.
Kadare understands these atavistic hatreds, best expressed in the inflexible songs of the bards on the battlefield. (The second section takes up that story: the flight of the troubadours, Albanian Gjorg and Serbian Vladan, to the relative safety of Germania.) Even as the Ottomans are kicking their ass, the Serbs rail against the Albanians and the Albanians sing imprecations at the Serbs. Exactly six centuries after Kosovo Polje - 28 June 1989 - Slobodan Milosevic delivered the Gazimestan speech at the site of the battle, a repetition of those same old songs and an early warning of the savagery that was soon to engulf the region. 28 June continues to be an emotive day loaded with many layers of meaning; Gavrilo Princip too did his history-changing bit of handiwork on that day in 1914, on the bank of the beautiful Miljacka river.
My only complaint is that the book is too short; eventually I would like to read a fuller fictional analysis of the Balkans from someone as insightful as Kadare, but for a starter course, this is quite perfect. Dogs licking the honeyed heels of dead horses - where else would you find such spectacular imagery???
March 2, 2015
"The minstrels had already begun to compose their songs, each in his own language. They resembled the ancient songs; even the words were not that different. The Serbian elders chanted: “Oh, the Albanians are preparing to attack!” and the Albanian lahuta minstrels sang: “Men, to arms! The pernicious Serb is upon us!“
“Are you out of your minds or are you making fools of us?” the people asked. “The Turks are marching on us, and you are singing the same old songs — The Serbs are attacking, the Albanians are attacking!’” “We know, we know!” the minstrels answered. “But this is where we’ve always turned to find parts for our songs, and this is where we will always turn. These parts are not like those of weapons that change every ten years. Our models need at least a century to adapt!"
“Are you out of your minds or are you making fools of us?” the people asked. “The Turks are marching on us, and you are singing the same old songs — The Serbs are attacking, the Albanians are attacking!’” “We know, we know!” the minstrels answered. “But this is where we’ve always turned to find parts for our songs, and this is where we will always turn. These parts are not like those of weapons that change every ten years. Our models need at least a century to adapt!"
January 15, 2022
آنان کجا بودند؟ چه میکردند؟ سه سال گذشت، هفت، سیزده. گاه و بیگاه، مسافری تنها بر سر مزارم خبرهایی جستهوگریخته از احوال دنیا میآورد. هنگامیکه شنیدم تیمور لنگ آنکارا را به تصرف درآورده و بایزید، پسرم، را چون حیوان وحشی در قفس آهنین انداخته، خواستم فریاد برآورم «حقت است!» پس به همین سبب اینهمه وقت خبری از آنان نشد. آهِ من پسرم را، که یعقوب، برادرش، و شاید حتی خود مرا، به قصد تکیه زدن بر تخت من، کشته بود، گرفته بود. هنگامیکه خبری از امید نیست، زمان بسیار آهستهتر میگذرد تا وقتی امیدی در کار هست. خون بهوقت لخته شدن قدرت خود را از دست نمیدهد. حتی هنگامیکه در دوسوی ظرف سربی، خشک و گردمانند میشود، سرکشتر میگردد. لعنت بر شما، مردم بالکان، که از من خواستید، در پیرانهسر، به لشگرکشی دست بزنم و جان خود را در این دشتها فدا کنم! بالاترازهمه، لعنت بر شما بهسبب انزوایم!
January 27, 2023
در مرکز این رمان نبرد سال ۱۳۸۹ کوزوو گنجانده شده. مخاصمهای بین ارتش مهاجم عثمانی و کنفدراسیونی متشکل از سربازان صرب، آلبانیایی، بوسنیایی، رومانیایی، کروات و مجار. نبردی فاجعهبار برای طرفین. سلطان مراد اول و شاهزاده لازار فرماندهی نیروهای بالکان کشته شدند و بالکان به تصرف عثمانیها درآمد. اشغالی که پنج قرن ادامه یافت. از دیدگاه کاداره، حماسههای قهرمانانهی نبرد کوزوو نقشی اساسی در تلاش جمهوری فدرال یوگسلاوی (صربستان و مونتهنگرو) در حملهی سال ۱۹۹۸ به کوزوو داشته. کاداره معتقد است صربها از این ایدئولوژیهای ناسیونالیستی برگرفته از روایتهای تخیلی و افسانهها، در مشروعیت بخشی به یک نظم سیاسی جدید و اشغال کوزوو استفاده کردهاند. شخصیت اصلی رمان دو خنیاگر صرب و آلبانیایی هستند که پس از نبرد در دشتها سرگردان شدهاند. یکی مدام میخواند برخیزید ای صربها! آلبانیاییها دارند کوزوو را میگیرند. دیگری میخواند آلبانیاییها! با سلاحهایتان برخیزید کوزوو به دست صربهای لعنتی افتاد. بالکانها قبل، هنگام و بعد از نبرد در حالی که همگی در یک جبهه قرار داشتند دست از خصومت سنتی خود برنداشتند. انگار که همین خصومتهای نارس ریشهی مشکلیست که گریبان بالکان را گرفته و تصنیفهای حماسی قرون وسطایی که پیشدرآمد و پیامد نبرد کوزوو هستند، دشمنی مرگبار آنها را تداوم بخشیده. برای من باور کردنی نیست که چطور کاداره استادانه این مفاهیم را در کتابی با این حجم کم کنار هم قرار داده
November 19, 2017
"Cry the Beloved Country"---Twice !
When the Ottoman Empire broke up in the early 20th century, it wasn't a neat process. It happened over a number of years and nobody, especially the Turks, agreed on how it was to be done. That's why, when after the Balkan wars of 1912-1913, when Albania was created from former Turkish territories, the Serbian and Greek victors of the two wars knocked off some pieces and called them home. In post-WW II Yugoslavia at least, some recognition was given to the fact that the region known as Kosovo had a large majority of Albanian inhabitants. Yugoslavia, that goulash of a country, could incorporate them too without anyone saying that it was totally unreasonable. Maybe the Albanians had other ideas, but after looking at Enver Hoxha's despotic rule in next-door Albania, few had aspirations to join it. But when Tito died and the various nationalities of Yugoslavia began to develop visions of independence, the Albanians of Kosovo too harbored their desires. Here they ran smack into a solid wall of Serbian opposition for the Serbs believed this Albanian-populated land to be the heart of their historic legend, not to mention the home of a Serbian minority who had been there for centuries. Albanian-Serb-Albanian-Serb---who had the rights there ? This question had rankled for centuries despite the Turkish rule that kept them both down. By the time the 90% Albanian Kosovo decided it was time to separate from Serbia and the ultra-nationalistic policies of the demagogic Milosevic, Serbia in turn decided that Kosovo was definitely theirs still. A war broke out, Europe and the US got involved, refugees, bombing, and at last, a new small state in the Balkans appeared.
Why all this anger and violence ? Where did it start, how to account for the Balkanizing tendencies of those "Balkans" who never called themselves that but were labelled as such by other Europeans, more fortunate in their choice of enemies. Kadare has written this short allegorical essay. It is brilliant, it is multi-layered, full of wit and the tragedy of nationalist rivalries. How different are Serb, Albanian, Turk, Romanian, Bosnian, Bulgar, Greek, Macedonian and Roma ? Don't they have a lot in common ? Didn't they all die together on the field of Kosovo in 1389 when the Turkish army smashed the united Balkan forces ? Those forces never united again. This is an elegy indeed, not for any one person, but for two nations that can never get along, neither of whom possesses all the right and none of the wrong. The songs of the Albanians and the Serbs mirror each other. Doesn't every unity have a reflection ? So, every unity can be a duality as well. Enough said. Another great book from Kadare.
When the Ottoman Empire broke up in the early 20th century, it wasn't a neat process. It happened over a number of years and nobody, especially the Turks, agreed on how it was to be done. That's why, when after the Balkan wars of 1912-1913, when Albania was created from former Turkish territories, the Serbian and Greek victors of the two wars knocked off some pieces and called them home. In post-WW II Yugoslavia at least, some recognition was given to the fact that the region known as Kosovo had a large majority of Albanian inhabitants. Yugoslavia, that goulash of a country, could incorporate them too without anyone saying that it was totally unreasonable. Maybe the Albanians had other ideas, but after looking at Enver Hoxha's despotic rule in next-door Albania, few had aspirations to join it. But when Tito died and the various nationalities of Yugoslavia began to develop visions of independence, the Albanians of Kosovo too harbored their desires. Here they ran smack into a solid wall of Serbian opposition for the Serbs believed this Albanian-populated land to be the heart of their historic legend, not to mention the home of a Serbian minority who had been there for centuries. Albanian-Serb-Albanian-Serb---who had the rights there ? This question had rankled for centuries despite the Turkish rule that kept them both down. By the time the 90% Albanian Kosovo decided it was time to separate from Serbia and the ultra-nationalistic policies of the demagogic Milosevic, Serbia in turn decided that Kosovo was definitely theirs still. A war broke out, Europe and the US got involved, refugees, bombing, and at last, a new small state in the Balkans appeared.
Why all this anger and violence ? Where did it start, how to account for the Balkanizing tendencies of those "Balkans" who never called themselves that but were labelled as such by other Europeans, more fortunate in their choice of enemies. Kadare has written this short allegorical essay. It is brilliant, it is multi-layered, full of wit and the tragedy of nationalist rivalries. How different are Serb, Albanian, Turk, Romanian, Bosnian, Bulgar, Greek, Macedonian and Roma ? Don't they have a lot in common ? Didn't they all die together on the field of Kosovo in 1389 when the Turkish army smashed the united Balkan forces ? Those forces never united again. This is an elegy indeed, not for any one person, but for two nations that can never get along, neither of whom possesses all the right and none of the wrong. The songs of the Albanians and the Serbs mirror each other. Doesn't every unity have a reflection ? So, every unity can be a duality as well. Enough said. Another great book from Kadare.
November 10, 2008
In 1389, the Field of Blackbirds (Kosovo Field) saw a battle between the Christian army made up of Serbs, Bosnians, Albanians and Romanians and the Ottoman army led by Sultan Mourad. On the eve of battle the Serb military minstrels sang, “Rise, O Serbs, the Albanians are seizing Kosovo” and the Albanian minstrels sang, “Rise, O Albanians! Kosovo is falling to the pernicious Serb!”. Though it had nothing to do with the impending fight with the Ottomans it was the only song each knew. Even when they sang together at the funeral of a northern European lady they sang these songs. Now according to the Serbs, in 1389 they were the only ones who fought the Ottoman. But according to Kadare, it was a coalition that teamed up and fought. Regardless of who fought, the Ottomans owned the Field in 10 hours. 600 years later, the Serb leader Milosevic launched a campaign to eliminate the Albanians, the majority population of Kosovo. Today the same song is being sung.
This is an epic book told in only a handful of pages. Kadare’s intention was to just state the truth. That truth is called propaganda from some quarters a chronicle of untold history by others. Regardless, it is a stirring book that looks at the absurdity of war, of hatred, of taking religious differences to the extreme. Blood never washes away. The satirical moments throughout the book pierce like arrows.
This is an epic book told in only a handful of pages. Kadare’s intention was to just state the truth. That truth is called propaganda from some quarters a chronicle of untold history by others. Regardless, it is a stirring book that looks at the absurdity of war, of hatred, of taking religious differences to the extreme. Blood never washes away. The satirical moments throughout the book pierce like arrows.
March 31, 2014
Three Elegies For Kosovo
كنت قد قرأت كل ما ترجم لإسماعيل كاداريه، الداهية الألباني العجوز، أفضل من يكتب الرواية الأسطورية، وخاصة أساطير الشعوب البلقانية المتناحرة، المحزن أنه على عظمة كاداريه وأهمية أدبه إلا أن أكثر من نصف أعماله لم يترجم، هذا ما دفعني للحصول على الترجمات الإنجليزية لما بقي من أعماله، ومواصلة القراءة له مفتتحاً بهذه القصص الثلاث الصغيرة.
في سنة 1989 م وعلى وقع مرور ستة قرون على الهزيمة الكبيرة التي منيت بها الشعوب البلقانية من صرب وكروات وألبان ومولدافيين وولاشيين وهنغاريين أمام العثمانيين في معركة قوصوه أو كوسوفو سنة 1389 م، ألقي الرئيس الصربي سلوبودان ميلوسوفيتش خطاباً يستعيد فيه هذه الهزيمة، ويحيي الصراعات الراقدة بين البلقانيين وهو ما عجل بانهيار يوغوسلافيا ونشوب حرب البوسنة والهرسك وحرب كوسوفو من بعدها، من هنا يستعيد كاداريه معركة كوسوفو، يستعيد تجذر العداء بين الشعوب التي صارت تسمى البلقانية وهي تسمية جاء بها العثمانيون، وكعادة كاداريه يستخدم لإظهار العداء الأغاني الشعبية التي كان يغنيها المغنون الشعبيون في معسكرات الجيوش البلقانية قبل المعركة بقليل، فرغم أن الشعوب البلقانية تقف في وجه عدو مرعب كالعثمانيين إلا أن المغنين لم يغيروا أغانيهم، لم يبحثوا عن كلمات توحدهم، وإنما واصل المغني الصربي التحذير من الألبان، وواصل المغني الألباني التحذير من الصرب، هكذا دهمهم العثمانيون واقتلعوهم.
إنها قصص جميلة، تظهر المصير الواحد للشعوب، والدرس الذي لم يتعلموه منذ ستة قرون، كما خصص كاداريه القصة الأخيرة للغز مقتل السلطان مراد على أرض المعركة، وهل قتل كما تقول الروايات على يد مقاتل صربي جريح! أم أنها كانت مؤامرة على يد الصدر الأعظم وبايزيد! وكيف أن دم مراد الذي سفح في كوسوفو ظل حياً، كلعنة تصيب البلقانيين وتجعلهم يواصلون عدائهم لبعضهم رغم كل شيء.
كنت قد قرأت كل ما ترجم لإسماعيل كاداريه، الداهية الألباني العجوز، أفضل من يكتب الرواية الأسطورية، وخاصة أساطير الشعوب البلقانية المتناحرة، المحزن أنه على عظمة كاداريه وأهمية أدبه إلا أن أكثر من نصف أعماله لم يترجم، هذا ما دفعني للحصول على الترجمات الإنجليزية لما بقي من أعماله، ومواصلة القراءة له مفتتحاً بهذه القصص الثلاث الصغيرة.
في سنة 1989 م وعلى وقع مرور ستة قرون على الهزيمة الكبيرة التي منيت بها الشعوب البلقانية من صرب وكروات وألبان ومولدافيين وولاشيين وهنغاريين أمام العثمانيين في معركة قوصوه أو كوسوفو سنة 1389 م، ألقي الرئيس الصربي سلوبودان ميلوسوفيتش خطاباً يستعيد فيه هذه الهزيمة، ويحيي الصراعات الراقدة بين البلقانيين وهو ما عجل بانهيار يوغوسلافيا ونشوب حرب البوسنة والهرسك وحرب كوسوفو من بعدها، من هنا يستعيد كاداريه معركة كوسوفو، يستعيد تجذر العداء بين الشعوب التي صارت تسمى البلقانية وهي تسمية جاء بها العثمانيون، وكعادة كاداريه يستخدم لإظهار العداء الأغاني الشعبية التي كان يغنيها المغنون الشعبيون في معسكرات الجيوش البلقانية قبل المعركة بقليل، فرغم أن الشعوب البلقانية تقف في وجه عدو مرعب كالعثمانيين إلا أن المغنين لم يغيروا أغانيهم، لم يبحثوا عن كلمات توحدهم، وإنما واصل المغني الصربي التحذير من الألبان، وواصل المغني الألباني التحذير من الصرب، هكذا دهمهم العثمانيون واقتلعوهم.
إنها قصص جميلة، تظهر المصير الواحد للشعوب، والدرس الذي لم يتعلموه منذ ستة قرون، كما خصص كاداريه القصة الأخيرة للغز مقتل السلطان مراد على أرض المعركة، وهل قتل كما تقول الروايات على يد مقاتل صربي جريح! أم أنها كانت مؤامرة على يد الصدر الأعظم وبايزيد! وكيف أن دم مراد الذي سفح في كوسوفو ظل حياً، كلعنة تصيب البلقانيين وتجعلهم يواصلون عدائهم لبعضهم رغم كل شيء.
November 26, 2021
This collection of three interconnected stories, shorter than even its small page count suggests, is a very good encapsulation of Kadare's work. It is focused on Albania and the rest of the Balkans, touching upon the myths of those places as well as the blood debts that seem to have dictated the fate of the location since time immemorial. But, while the stories are at first set hundreds of years ago, Kadare makes clear that none of the blood debts or myths are ancient history, but rather they permeate the Balkans even in the modern era. A more specific discussion of each of the three stories, including spoilers, below.
The Ancient Battle: This story of the 1389 Battle of Kosovo is only lightly fictionalized. The opening establishes that in this corner of the world, an outbreak of war or an agreement for peace is never far away. While the army of the Turks, wherein every soldier is just one more cog fighting for Allah, defeats the individualistic and undisciplined armies of the Balkans, the ending suggests that the Turks are not as unified as they may appear, and that they may have already been infected by the ethos of the very people they are conquering.
The Great Lady: This story follows the fleeing remnants of the Balkan armies defeated in the last story, with the focus being on a group of martial minstrels. As they escape from Kosovo into Western Europe, they find that they are are still bound by the chains of the past, even though the world has changed. However, the minstrels see this as a virtue, not a flaw, even as their inability to adapt makes their lives more difficult. Only a solitary noblewoman, who gives the story its title, seems to understand the significance of the Turkish victory and is prepared to take action in defiance of the past. But can she succeed in rallying fragmented Europe? Death robs her of even the chance.
The Royal Prayer: The third story, by far the shortest, summarizes the bloody history of the Balkans. It is portrayed as a cursed place, where kingdoms that were allied against the Turks wage vicious war against each other a scant few years later. And the blood cost merely grows with time, over the hundreds of years after the Battle of Kosovo. Kadare penned this story while the curse was seemingly in full swing, with Yugoslavians attempting to genocide Kosovar Albanians, and the end of the story brings the prayer into the current day by adding these latest atrocities to the history of carnage.
In the end, I interpreted Kadare’s Elegy for Kosovo not as a dirge for the innumerable men and women that have died in the Balkans, but rather as a lament for how the region remains fractured and its inhabitants remain thirsty for the blood of their neighbors, and worst of all seem proud of their ties to the past that keep them in this state. Kadare never comes out and says it, but it seems clear that he believes the countries of the Balkans, if they could wipe the blood debts from the ledger and cooperate, could become a significant actor on the world stage instead of the violent backwater that it has remained for hundreds of years. This is an elegy for what could have been if humanity was better, but, alas, man remains tribalistic, violent, and often incapable of seeing the bigger picture.
This work doesn’t quite break into my top tier for Kadare’s work (which consists of The General of the Dead Army, Broken April, The File on H, and The Palace of Dreams), but it’s probably the best place to start with Kadare, superior even to Broken April in that regard. It’s short, but succinctly provides a sense of the spirit that Kadare believes that Albanians (and their neighbors) possess, as well as how that spirit has shaped Albania’s destiny even to this day. I give this one a 3.5/5, and round up.
The Ancient Battle: This story of the 1389 Battle of Kosovo is only lightly fictionalized. The opening establishes that in this corner of the world, an outbreak of war or an agreement for peace is never far away. While the army of the Turks, wherein every soldier is just one more cog fighting for Allah, defeats the individualistic and undisciplined armies of the Balkans, the ending suggests that the Turks are not as unified as they may appear, and that they may have already been infected by the ethos of the very people they are conquering.
The Great Lady: This story follows the fleeing remnants of the Balkan armies defeated in the last story, with the focus being on a group of martial minstrels. As they escape from Kosovo into Western Europe, they find that they are are still bound by the chains of the past, even though the world has changed. However, the minstrels see this as a virtue, not a flaw, even as their inability to adapt makes their lives more difficult. Only a solitary noblewoman, who gives the story its title, seems to understand the significance of the Turkish victory and is prepared to take action in defiance of the past. But can she succeed in rallying fragmented Europe? Death robs her of even the chance.
The Royal Prayer: The third story, by far the shortest, summarizes the bloody history of the Balkans. It is portrayed as a cursed place, where kingdoms that were allied against the Turks wage vicious war against each other a scant few years later. And the blood cost merely grows with time, over the hundreds of years after the Battle of Kosovo. Kadare penned this story while the curse was seemingly in full swing, with Yugoslavians attempting to genocide Kosovar Albanians, and the end of the story brings the prayer into the current day by adding these latest atrocities to the history of carnage.
In the end, I interpreted Kadare’s Elegy for Kosovo not as a dirge for the innumerable men and women that have died in the Balkans, but rather as a lament for how the region remains fractured and its inhabitants remain thirsty for the blood of their neighbors, and worst of all seem proud of their ties to the past that keep them in this state. Kadare never comes out and says it, but it seems clear that he believes the countries of the Balkans, if they could wipe the blood debts from the ledger and cooperate, could become a significant actor on the world stage instead of the violent backwater that it has remained for hundreds of years. This is an elegy for what could have been if humanity was better, but, alas, man remains tribalistic, violent, and often incapable of seeing the bigger picture.
This work doesn’t quite break into my top tier for Kadare’s work (which consists of The General of the Dead Army, Broken April, The File on H, and The Palace of Dreams), but it’s probably the best place to start with Kadare, superior even to Broken April in that regard. It’s short, but succinctly provides a sense of the spirit that Kadare believes that Albanians (and their neighbors) possess, as well as how that spirit has shaped Albania’s destiny even to this day. I give this one a 3.5/5, and round up.
March 20, 2023
Kadare writes a lot about the troubled history of Albania and other countries in that region. This is three stories in one book, the first more of a novella. It is about the defeat of a coalition of Albanians, Serbs, Croats and Hungarian armies by the Ottoman Empire in 1389 that led to over six hundred years of domination and introduction of the Muslim Faith to the area. He then writes about the deep hatreds that were bred between these different factions and the fighting that finally broke out in 1990's once they were freed from any restraints. The book is written, almost, as an epic narrative poem with a great deal of allegory included. Another great book by Ismail Kadare.
February 9, 2016
This is not your usual novel which makes it difficult to review. It consists of three stories that are part of the same, bigger picture but which are written in different styles and from a different view point. There really isn't a plot, either, or main characters. I guess one could say that the characters are the Balkan countries and the main one is Kosovo. As a short book it was well worth a read.
In a funny way the first part was difficult for me because I kept hearing a Finnish military march in my head. (Here with English lyrics in the description.) According to the legend, the Finnish Guard sharpshooter battalion sang it when they were returning from the Russian-Turkish War of 1877-1878 where they had fought in the battle of Gorni Dubnik and "suffered from the cold and hunger when fighting in the mountains of Balkan". So yeah, 500 years from the time of the book and in Bulgaria, not Kosovo, but at least the enemy was the same, the Ottoman Empire, so not much had changed. And of course at the time this book was being written, there was another war.
I am not too familiar with the Balkan culture(s), so it was interesting to hear one view of the nations and their relations with each other. In a way it reminds me of the Nordic countries who have always telling the same jokes about one another (there used to be many wars between them, too), and it also provided a bit of humour in the book. The story probably also explained some of the conflicts between them and how old grievances are remembered and then lead to new wars and new grievances. Nothing new or special about that either.
You can find my review in Finnish here.
In a funny way the first part was difficult for me because I kept hearing a Finnish military march in my head. (Here with English lyrics in the description.) According to the legend, the Finnish Guard sharpshooter battalion sang it when they were returning from the Russian-Turkish War of 1877-1878 where they had fought in the battle of Gorni Dubnik and "suffered from the cold and hunger when fighting in the mountains of Balkan". So yeah, 500 years from the time of the book and in Bulgaria, not Kosovo, but at least the enemy was the same, the Ottoman Empire, so not much had changed. And of course at the time this book was being written, there was another war.
I am not too familiar with the Balkan culture(s), so it was interesting to hear one view of the nations and their relations with each other. In a way it reminds me of the Nordic countries who have always telling the same jokes about one another (there used to be many wars between them, too), and it also provided a bit of humour in the book. The story probably also explained some of the conflicts between them and how old grievances are remembered and then lead to new wars and new grievances. Nothing new or special about that either.
You can find my review in Finnish here.
March 5, 2016
Vahva pienoisromaani Kosovosta, vuodesta 1389 kun osmaaniarmeija sai puolikuullaan voiton rististä.
Pitkään, lähes loppuunsa saakka tämä teos tuntui alulta jollekin, hämmensi lukukokemusta kun tiesi sivujen pian loppuvan ilman että mikään oikein ehti edes alkaa. Mutta viimeisessä luvussa, viimeisessä surulaulussa yhtäkkiä kaikki nivoutui, kerääntyi yhteen, tuli muutamalla lauseella kokonaiseksi ja näin tästä pienestä kirjasta tuli yhtäkkiä todella suuri ja voimakas.
Ei helpoimmasta päästä, mutta suosittelen lämpimästi.
Pitkään, lähes loppuunsa saakka tämä teos tuntui alulta jollekin, hämmensi lukukokemusta kun tiesi sivujen pian loppuvan ilman että mikään oikein ehti edes alkaa. Mutta viimeisessä luvussa, viimeisessä surulaulussa yhtäkkiä kaikki nivoutui, kerääntyi yhteen, tuli muutamalla lauseella kokonaiseksi ja näin tästä pienestä kirjasta tuli yhtäkkiä todella suuri ja voimakas.
Ei helpoimmasta päästä, mutta suosittelen lämpimästi.
January 8, 2018
Kjo permbledhje prej 3 tregimesh, ngjarjet te cilat jane vendosur me 1389, pas dhe gjate Betejes se Kosoves, shtjellojne ngjarjet, pasojat e te cilave i ndjejne edhe brezat e ardhshem, e gjer ne ditet e sotme...
Eshte nje liber i fuqishem, qe godet perspektivat e perpiluesve te ketyre ngjarjeve kaq tronditese dhe te vecanta ne nje menyre apo tjeter.
Eshte nje liber i fuqishem, qe godet perspektivat e perpiluesve te ketyre ngjarjeve kaq tronditese dhe te vecanta ne nje menyre apo tjeter.
October 30, 2026
Djelo se sastoji od tri dijela:
1. Drevna bitka – Opisuje Kosovsku bitku 1389. godine. Balkanski narodi, među kojima su Srbi, Albanci, Bosanci i Rumunji, bore se protiv Osmanlija. Autor pokazuje da su se narodi koji su imali zajedničkog neprijatelja međusobno sukobljavali i prije bitke.
2. Velika gospođica – Prati skupinu putujućih pjevača, među kojima su srpski i albanski pjevači. Oni nakon bitke nastavljaju pjevati stare pjesme koje izražavaju međusobnu mržnju. Ovaj dio pokazuje kako se neprijateljstvo prenosi s generacije na generaciju.
3. Kraljevska molitva – Prikazuje duha osmanskog sultana Murata koji je poginuo u Kosovskoj bitci. Njegova krv kao da ostaje prokletstvo nad Kosovom i simbolizira povijesne posljedice rata i mržnje.
Nikada se nije dogodilo da se pronio glas o tome da će biti rata, a da je potom nastao mir. Međutim, nasuprot tome, iznenadna objava rata nakon nadanja miru , bila je skoro pa uobičajna pojava na velikom poluotoku.
Iako je samo Tvrtko bio kralj, za glavnog zapovjednika izabran je Srpski princ Lazar, jer je on imao većinu snaga. S njegove lijeve strane Rumunjski vojvoda Mirčea, a s njegove desne ALbanski grofovi Gjergj Balsha i Demeter Jonima.
U knjizi se navodi da je Sultan Murat možda ubijen od strane svog sina(izdaja).
Odmah nakon dima uslijediše prvi Turčinovi krici. Bile su to nerazumljive riječi, kako se činilo, na njegoovm jeziku. Među njima su nastojali razabrati riječ Allah, jedina kojia im je bila poznata, ali osuđenik je nije izrekao.
Inkvizitor koji je pratio spaljivanje, ispruži vrat kao što čini čovjek kad želi bolje čuti. Čini mi se da kaže Abrakadabra.
-Jadni Turčin-reče jedan Bosanac svome prijatelju-
Zove majku. Sjećaš se kad nam je objašnjavao da se na njihovu jeziku majka kaže ablla...
Turčinovo se vrištanje obrati u prigušen jecaj, zatim iznenada ispusti jedan strašni "non". Bio je to poseni vrisak, koji nije imao veze sa prethodnim uzvicima, ili se tako samo činilo, pošto je to bila jedina latinska riječ koju je izrekao. Bila je to možda prva riječ kršćanskog svijeta koju je naučio i opraštajući se od svijeta koji ga nije prihvatio, tim je posljednjim uzvikom možda izrazio svoje kajanje.

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Naravno. Evo prijepisa teksta sa slike:
zlokobne svjetiljke. A njihova tutnjava, poput morskog šuma, ne prestaje.
Iskidane komade novina, bačene od strane hodočasnika, vjetar tjera amo-tamo. Dogodi se da od njih saznam ono što se događa uokolo. Iznenađujuća imena zemalja i vezira. NATO. R. Cook, Madeleine Albright. Pokolji djece u Drenici. Milošević. Mein Kampf. Ponovno ime žene vezirke. Katkad se među njihovim imenima pojavi moje ime: Murat I.
Allahu, ja, usamljeni vladar, umorio sam se šest stotina i nešto godina usred kršćanskog prostranstva. Ponekad, u najtežim satima, dvojim da nije moja krv začetak ovog užasa. Znam da je to glupa dvojba, ipak, iz neživota gdje jesam, molim te: Moj Bože, daj mi napokon zaborav! Učini da s ovog hladnog polja odstrane moju krv. I ne samo olovnu posudu, nego da okopaju svu zemlju s mjesta gdje je bio čador, tamo gdje su prve kapi poprskale zemlju. Bože, učini to, očisti sve blato oko mene, jer dovoljno je samo nekoliko kapi krvi da se sjećanje cijeloga svijeta zatvori.
1. Drevna bitka – Opisuje Kosovsku bitku 1389. godine. Balkanski narodi, među kojima su Srbi, Albanci, Bosanci i Rumunji, bore se protiv Osmanlija. Autor pokazuje da su se narodi koji su imali zajedničkog neprijatelja međusobno sukobljavali i prije bitke.
2. Velika gospođica – Prati skupinu putujućih pjevača, među kojima su srpski i albanski pjevači. Oni nakon bitke nastavljaju pjevati stare pjesme koje izražavaju međusobnu mržnju. Ovaj dio pokazuje kako se neprijateljstvo prenosi s generacije na generaciju.
3. Kraljevska molitva – Prikazuje duha osmanskog sultana Murata koji je poginuo u Kosovskoj bitci. Njegova krv kao da ostaje prokletstvo nad Kosovom i simbolizira povijesne posljedice rata i mržnje.
Nikada se nije dogodilo da se pronio glas o tome da će biti rata, a da je potom nastao mir. Međutim, nasuprot tome, iznenadna objava rata nakon nadanja miru , bila je skoro pa uobičajna pojava na velikom poluotoku.
Iako je samo Tvrtko bio kralj, za glavnog zapovjednika izabran je Srpski princ Lazar, jer je on imao većinu snaga. S njegove lijeve strane Rumunjski vojvoda Mirčea, a s njegove desne ALbanski grofovi Gjergj Balsha i Demeter Jonima.
U knjizi se navodi da je Sultan Murat možda ubijen od strane svog sina(izdaja).
Odmah nakon dima uslijediše prvi Turčinovi krici. Bile su to nerazumljive riječi, kako se činilo, na njegoovm jeziku. Među njima su nastojali razabrati riječ Allah, jedina kojia im je bila poznata, ali osuđenik je nije izrekao.
Inkvizitor koji je pratio spaljivanje, ispruži vrat kao što čini čovjek kad želi bolje čuti. Čini mi se da kaže Abrakadabra.
-Jadni Turčin-reče jedan Bosanac svome prijatelju-
Zove majku. Sjećaš se kad nam je objašnjavao da se na njihovu jeziku majka kaže ablla...
Turčinovo se vrištanje obrati u prigušen jecaj, zatim iznenada ispusti jedan strašni "non". Bio je to poseni vrisak, koji nije imao veze sa prethodnim uzvicima, ili se tako samo činilo, pošto je to bila jedina latinska riječ koju je izrekao. Bila je to možda prva riječ kršćanskog svijeta koju je naučio i opraštajući se od svijeta koji ga nije prihvatio, tim je posljednjim uzvikom možda izrazio svoje kajanje.

Pretipkaj ovaj tekst
Naravno. Evo prijepisa teksta sa slike:
zlokobne svjetiljke. A njihova tutnjava, poput morskog šuma, ne prestaje.
Iskidane komade novina, bačene od strane hodočasnika, vjetar tjera amo-tamo. Dogodi se da od njih saznam ono što se događa uokolo. Iznenađujuća imena zemalja i vezira. NATO. R. Cook, Madeleine Albright. Pokolji djece u Drenici. Milošević. Mein Kampf. Ponovno ime žene vezirke. Katkad se među njihovim imenima pojavi moje ime: Murat I.
Allahu, ja, usamljeni vladar, umorio sam se šest stotina i nešto godina usred kršćanskog prostranstva. Ponekad, u najtežim satima, dvojim da nije moja krv začetak ovog užasa. Znam da je to glupa dvojba, ipak, iz neživota gdje jesam, molim te: Moj Bože, daj mi napokon zaborav! Učini da s ovog hladnog polja odstrane moju krv. I ne samo olovnu posudu, nego da okopaju svu zemlju s mjesta gdje je bio čador, tamo gdje su prve kapi poprskale zemlju. Bože, učini to, očisti sve blato oko mene, jer dovoljno je samo nekoliko kapi krvi da se sjećanje cijeloga svijeta zatvori.
July 31, 2023
i had forgotten that the superstitious denizens of mitteleuropa called yogurt "diseased milk." i mean, not wrong, really.
Read
August 27, 2024Balkans, 2024
May 11, 2018
I'm not familiar with Albanian (or Kosovo) history, but this was intriguing.
In 1389, there was a battle over Kosovo. The Balkans unite against the Sultan Murad of the Turks, but the Balkans are defeated. The soldiers flee.
But the various refugee soldiers of the Balkans don't consider themselves as one people. They're still torn by their old ethnic hatreds: Serbs against Albanians and Albanians against Serbs. This is a repeated motif: the musicians of each group are asked to play songs of the fight against the Turks, but they cannot - they only have songs encouraging the Serbs to fight against the Albanians (and vice versa).
And so the refugees move on. They lose their language, they lose a sense of place (moving from village to village, city to city), but the only thing they remember (and sing of, in the end) is the hatred of Albanian and Serb.
We also meet a Turk who seeks to convert to Christianity - but he cannot reconcile the two faiths within him. His inability to be both is met with distrust - and he is therefore killed. It's possibly another analogy of how co-operation or synthesis is anathema to this society.
I get the sense of Albania as a place of refugees - forever wandering, forever held captive by the hatred in its history. That's emphasised by the ending, where Sultan Murad laments the battles that have reoccurred over the six centuries since his blood has been shed on the Plains of Kosovo:
And the poignancy of the last few sentences:
It's a thoughtful book, and I've probably lost the deeper meanings, but it's still worth reading.
4/5
In 1389, there was a battle over Kosovo. The Balkans unite against the Sultan Murad of the Turks, but the Balkans are defeated. The soldiers flee.
But the various refugee soldiers of the Balkans don't consider themselves as one people. They're still torn by their old ethnic hatreds: Serbs against Albanians and Albanians against Serbs. This is a repeated motif: the musicians of each group are asked to play songs of the fight against the Turks, but they cannot - they only have songs encouraging the Serbs to fight against the Albanians (and vice versa).
And so the refugees move on. They lose their language, they lose a sense of place (moving from village to village, city to city), but the only thing they remember (and sing of, in the end) is the hatred of Albanian and Serb.
We also meet a Turk who seeks to convert to Christianity - but he cannot reconcile the two faiths within him. His inability to be both is met with distrust - and he is therefore killed. It's possibly another analogy of how co-operation or synthesis is anathema to this society.
I get the sense of Albania as a place of refugees - forever wandering, forever held captive by the hatred in its history. That's emphasised by the ending, where Sultan Murad laments the battles that have reoccurred over the six centuries since his blood has been shed on the Plains of Kosovo:
And the Balkans, instead of trying to build something together, attacked each other again like beasts freed from their iron chains. Their songs were as wild as their weapons. And the prophecies and proclamations were terrible. "For seven hundred years I shall burn your towers! You dogs! For seven hundred years I shall cut you down!" the minstrels sang. And what they declared in their songs was inevitably done, and what was done was then added to their songs, as poison is added to poison.
And the poignancy of the last few sentences:
I know this is a crazed suspicion, and yet, in this nonexistence in which I am, I beg you: Finally grant me oblivion, my Lord! Make them remove my blood from these cold plains. And not just the leaden vessel, but make them dig up the earth around where my tent stood, where drops of my blood spattered the ground. O Lord, hear my prayer! Take away all the mud around here, for even a few drops of blood are enough to hold all the memory of the world.
It's a thoughtful book, and I've probably lost the deeper meanings, but it's still worth reading.
4/5
September 1, 2015
In three linked short stories, Ismail Kadare muses on the seemingly eternal conflicts that divide the different races that make up the Balkan region. He sets the scene in 1389, and the Field of Blackbirds, when the Serbs, Albanians, Rumanians, Hungarians, Wallachians and Bosnians are forced, in the name of Christ, to unite against a common threat, the ferocious Islamic army of Ottoman Turks under the leadership of Sultan Murad I. The defenders of Christendom are confident of victory but in a ten-hour slaughter are routed.
And there are no winners in this war, because Sultan Murad also falls, by foul means, and his blood left to haunt the Kosovo plains. Meanwhile, the survivors scatter, including the various war minstrels, men of varying nationality who march with their respective armies, singing of great historic victories. But because they can sing only what they know, none of the songs are new, and even as they step into war together, the Albanians sing of standing against the Serbs and the Serbs sing of taking up arms against the Albanians. It would be almost funny, if it weren't so tragic. And it is these men, among others, who survive, to run and seek shelter deeper into Europe, where the only ears their songs and stories please are old ones.
Europe itself is a terrified place, petrified of plague and the devil. At a northern banquet, before various dignitaries the minstrels' performance only fully catches the attention of 'the Great Lady', who recognises the worth of what they have to say: “These tales bring to mind the Greek tragedies... They are of the same diamond dust, the same seed.” And without the right listeners, stories are lost.
It's been a few years since I read Kadare and I can't believe that I'd forgotten how good he is. Too slight perhaps to rank with his very best work, but truly well worth reading.
And there are no winners in this war, because Sultan Murad also falls, by foul means, and his blood left to haunt the Kosovo plains. Meanwhile, the survivors scatter, including the various war minstrels, men of varying nationality who march with their respective armies, singing of great historic victories. But because they can sing only what they know, none of the songs are new, and even as they step into war together, the Albanians sing of standing against the Serbs and the Serbs sing of taking up arms against the Albanians. It would be almost funny, if it weren't so tragic. And it is these men, among others, who survive, to run and seek shelter deeper into Europe, where the only ears their songs and stories please are old ones.
Europe itself is a terrified place, petrified of plague and the devil. At a northern banquet, before various dignitaries the minstrels' performance only fully catches the attention of 'the Great Lady', who recognises the worth of what they have to say: “These tales bring to mind the Greek tragedies... They are of the same diamond dust, the same seed.” And without the right listeners, stories are lost.
It's been a few years since I read Kadare and I can't believe that I'd forgotten how good he is. Too slight perhaps to rank with his very best work, but truly well worth reading.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 3, 2014
In The Sleepwalkers Christopher Clark details the roots and shadows of various Balkan ideologies. The case of Serbia, who armed and sponsored the assassins of Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, is instructive. There were two Balkan Wars before the disaster of 1914. As the Ottoman Empire retreated the formerly subject states of the Balkans agitated for their freedom from both Istanbul and Vienna. Serbia’s goal was to reconstitute the medieval Serbian kingdom under the banner of “Greater Serbia.” All Serbs no matter where they lived were considered part of Greater Serbia.
What was once Greater Serbia came to an end on June 28, 1389 on the Field of the Blackbirds, a battle shrouded in legend. A coalition of Serbs, Albanian Catholics, Bosnians, and Rumanians confronted and were defeated by the Ottoman army of Sultan Murad. This battle became the centerpiece of Serbian nationalist ideology, six hundred years later Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic called for a new massacre in Kosovo, justifying the campaign of ethnic cleansing of the Albanian Kosovars with calls to the medieval heritage of Greater Serbia. In this slim book (128 pages) Kadaré explores the legend and the consequences of that defeat. There are three stories all filled with blood, battle and great ironies. On the eve of battle the Serb military minstrels sang, “Rise, O Serbs, the Albanians are seizing Kosovo” and the Albanian minstrels sang, “Rise, O Albanians! Kosovo is falling to the pernicious Serb!”. Though it had nothing to do with the impending fight with the Ottomans it was the only song each knew. The ultimate fate of Sultan Murad, whether true or not, is a fascinating story. A book that amply illustrates the often tragic effects of an extreme nationalist ideology.
What was once Greater Serbia came to an end on June 28, 1389 on the Field of the Blackbirds, a battle shrouded in legend. A coalition of Serbs, Albanian Catholics, Bosnians, and Rumanians confronted and were defeated by the Ottoman army of Sultan Murad. This battle became the centerpiece of Serbian nationalist ideology, six hundred years later Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic called for a new massacre in Kosovo, justifying the campaign of ethnic cleansing of the Albanian Kosovars with calls to the medieval heritage of Greater Serbia. In this slim book (128 pages) Kadaré explores the legend and the consequences of that defeat. There are three stories all filled with blood, battle and great ironies. On the eve of battle the Serb military minstrels sang, “Rise, O Serbs, the Albanians are seizing Kosovo” and the Albanian minstrels sang, “Rise, O Albanians! Kosovo is falling to the pernicious Serb!”. Though it had nothing to do with the impending fight with the Ottomans it was the only song each knew. The ultimate fate of Sultan Murad, whether true or not, is a fascinating story. A book that amply illustrates the often tragic effects of an extreme nationalist ideology.
November 2, 2012
Ismail Kadaré has written a beautiful collection of three interconnected stories about a 14th century conflict in The Balkan Peninsula. Kaderé makes an analogy between that battle between the tribes and the Balkan war of the 1990's. Those events are indeed connected, as the historical battle was present in the war rhetoric of Slobodan Milosevic as a part of his justification for his ethnic cleansing campaign.
The three tales are all about the conflict, each from the point of view of a different people. The book cries out for unity and forgiveness but doesn't feel naíve in the least. This voice is one that has lived through war and seen the realities and the ultimate illogic of it.
The prose here is exceptionally beautiful, delicately constructed and resonant. As melancholic as the substance of the collection is it would be a joy to read just for the language. And as that language conveys wise examinations on a delicate subject, the book as a whole is quite effective indeed.
The three tales are all about the conflict, each from the point of view of a different people. The book cries out for unity and forgiveness but doesn't feel naíve in the least. This voice is one that has lived through war and seen the realities and the ultimate illogic of it.
The prose here is exceptionally beautiful, delicately constructed and resonant. As melancholic as the substance of the collection is it would be a joy to read just for the language. And as that language conveys wise examinations on a delicate subject, the book as a whole is quite effective indeed.
July 12, 2019
Currently based in the Balkans, and currently spending time in Kosovo, this book was a must read for me. Kadare is somewhat of a national hero, and rightfully so. He is an exceptionally talented writer. His stories are bloody, violent and enriched with fascinating, albeit at times horrifying historical detail. This relatively short novel is the tale of a much besieged land - Kosovo, loved and fought over, pulled apart and defended by many. It arcs back to the 1300s, at a time when unbelievably Serbs, Bosnians, Montenegrins, Albanians, Bulgarians and so on, allied and fought together against Ottoman invasion of the Balkan territories. It also presents a foreboding shadow foretold of the horrors of Kosovo's more recent history, where unfortunately once allies have become fierce enemies. Intelligent, informative and very moving.
August 15, 2024
Me gjasë, titulli, shenjuesi, etiketa, emblema “Rrë/fyes” gjendet këtu—shumë më tepër se sa në sprovat e tjera eseistike—i derdhur mbi atë trup të shkrimtarit, të cilin shumëkush mund vetëm ta konsiderojë si “të pranuar.” Janë përhitjet e tilla, në fakt, çfarë e ekzaltojnë rapsodin në apogje amshimi, ndërmjet bindjes e mitit—të vetmet detyrime ndaj klasicizimit të tij në rrëfim.
Por a vlen gjithë–sa–u–tha për një krijues, i cili me anë të edifisës së tij, një gjeografie, urrejtjeje mijëvjeçare, e sendeve të rëndomta—po aq rëndomtë mitizuar—kërkon të ravijëzojë vetëm një madhështi të Autorit?
Mund të derivoj vetëm këtë pyetje në triptikun e Kadaresë; çdo përgjigje tjetër duket tashmë e dhënë.
Muzat—në vërtetë pastë autori të tilla—ende prehen në Parnasë. Në Fushë–Kosovë, vetëm gjysma e sulltanit; e asgjë më tepër.
Por a vlen gjithë–sa–u–tha për një krijues, i cili me anë të edifisës së tij, një gjeografie, urrejtjeje mijëvjeçare, e sendeve të rëndomta—po aq rëndomtë mitizuar—kërkon të ravijëzojë vetëm një madhështi të Autorit?
Mund të derivoj vetëm këtë pyetje në triptikun e Kadaresë; çdo përgjigje tjetër duket tashmë e dhënë.
Muzat—në vërtetë pastë autori të tilla—ende prehen në Parnasë. Në Fushë–Kosovë, vetëm gjysma e sulltanit; e asgjë më tepër.
September 30, 2022
Kadare Arnavutluk seyahatim öncesinde keşfettiğim bir yazardı. Ülkenin kültürünü araştırırken en önemli yazarlarından biri olduğunu öğrendim. Bu kitap yazarın okuduğum ilk kitabı.
Öncelikle bir tarihi roman okuyoruz. Ben Kosova diyince daha yakın tarih beklemiştim ancak öyle değil. Birbirinin devamı olan üç öyküde yazar 2. Kosova savaşı ve sonrasını anlatıyor. Haçlı Osmanlı mücadelesini mağlup taraftan takip ediyoruz.
Bu arada birinci kosovadan hiç bahsedilmemesi dikkatinizi çekebilir. Her ülke tarihini kendi yazdığı için sizde olan bir savaş onlarda hiç yaşanmamış gibi davranılabilir. Birinci inönü savaşını Yunan tarihinde okuyamazsınız mesela.
Ben beğendim. Kısa ve güzel bir romandı. Tavsiye ederim.
Öncelikle bir tarihi roman okuyoruz. Ben Kosova diyince daha yakın tarih beklemiştim ancak öyle değil. Birbirinin devamı olan üç öyküde yazar 2. Kosova savaşı ve sonrasını anlatıyor. Haçlı Osmanlı mücadelesini mağlup taraftan takip ediyoruz.
Bu arada birinci kosovadan hiç bahsedilmemesi dikkatinizi çekebilir. Her ülke tarihini kendi yazdığı için sizde olan bir savaş onlarda hiç yaşanmamış gibi davranılabilir. Birinci inönü savaşını Yunan tarihinde okuyamazsınız mesela.
Ben beğendim. Kısa ve güzel bir romandı. Tavsiye ederim.
December 14, 2017
In June of 1389, the armies of the Serbians, Albanians, Bosnians, Hungarians and Croatians as allies, against the Turks on the other. Although both sides had heavy losses, the Turks prevailed over the Balkan armies. This battle became the seeds for hatred that continue even today.
Very good.
Very good.
June 4, 2016
Powerful, short book that resonates even more if you're familiar with the history and culture of the Balkans.
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