Many years ago, when I was very young and very intense about my belief that the world was capable of being saved, I went to a talk at the 92nd Street Y by some writer I admired. I can't remember who it was, now. What I do remember is that the writer used the talk to speak passionately and eloquently about the then-recent 50th anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising and linked that to then on-going Siege of Sarajevo. It was heartbreaking. I hadn't really been following the story before then - I was a student and preoccupied- but after that night I became obsessed with the horrible news coming out of what seemed like such a unique and precious place. And since that time, my preoccupation has lingered, as I've read several books about the war and the region (with the standouts being by far Rebecca West's Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, which is a history book written 75 years ago, and Venuto al Mondo, which is a novel - in other words, neither is really a fair comparison for this book!), and finally, in 2010, got to travel to Bosnia.
All this is by way of saying that I came to Demick's book with a solid amateur knowledge of that period, and so perhaps I found it less fresh for that reason. I thought Demick's Nothing to Envy was truly amazing - a combination of great writing with great reporting and completely riveting subject matter. Logavina Street was clearly the work of a less fully-formed writer. And I didn't realize before reading it that Logavina Street was an old book (Demick's writings are from the time of the siege, and there's only a single chapter epilogue to cover the 15 years between then and re-publication). So that perhaps added to my disappointment, and that was my own fault, for not paying closer attention to this being a re-issuance.
But overall, while competently written and researched, I didn't feel immersed the way I did in Nothing to Envy. There were a few too many subjects and it was difficult in that crowd for their individual stories to grab you the way Demick wants them to - and the way they deserve to. At times the madness and the claustrophobia shines through - I especially liked the wartime recipes - but the book feels a bit surfacy at times - probably because it began life as a series of newspaper articles. That said, it does have many telling and heartrending moments - and it's a period in recent history that bears remembering and re-examining, not least because the central ethical question for outsiders - to intervene or not,and if so, when and how - remains at least as thorny and compelling as it was 20 years ago.
Demick's book also does a good job of conveying a phenomenon that I think about a lot - how quickly the abnormal (no power, or a barter economy, or risking your life to go the market) becomes utterly mundane, basically, the enormous human capacity to adapt to the unthinkable by routinizing. I saw a bit of that in New York after 9/11 and then again this year after Hurricane Sandy, and in my more apocalyptic moments, I suspect we have a lot more of that to come. Logavina Street conveys that dislocation well - it gets at the ordinariness of the unbearable. When I was done with the book, and thinking back to that talk at the 92nd Y, I realized that when I was very young, I thought of Sarajevo as a horrible throwback to the past (another holocaust in Central Europe). In anxious middle age, I'm more worried that Sarajevo is our future. Time for some light reading, I think!