Three maps, one birthplace. Three epochs, one sorrow. A common thread of high ambitions, dashed hopes, and betrayed ideals runs through them all. Nada’s failing health forces her to confront her moral principles. It is her body and she can use it the way she wants. Jaro, in the midst of the post-Communist transition, undergoes a profound life review as he loses all his illusions. Adam represents the culmination of these intertwined stories, emerging as the first man in an uncertain and fluid future world, easy-going, weary-falling.
Ivan Lesay was born in Trnava, (Czecho-)Slovakia, in 1980. He studied and taught political science and political economy at universities in Trnava, Budapest, Bratislava and Vienna. He has been working in the area of European investments and green energy.
He authored several expert books and papers. His works include a popular study of the 2008 Financial Crisis co-authored with Prof. Joachim Becker.
He writes lyrics for the Trnava-based hardcore-crossover formation Fishartcollection, who are two-time finalists of the Radio Head Awards under the category Hard & Heavy. He made his literary debut with a children’s book. Lesay authored several short stories, including some for radio. His debut novel Topografia bolesti (The Topography of Pain) was published in 2020 and scored 3rd in the national Book of the year 2020 award. The English translation of the novel The Topography of Pain was published on November 1, 2024, by the Canadian publisher Guernica Editions.His second book for kids Frenky. The Hot-blooded Lizard and Her Unusual Family (HANT) was published in Czech at the end of 2023.
There’s something about this novel that lingers, not because it overwhelms you, but because it quietly burrows under your skin. It reminded me, in unexpected ways, of Jón Kalman Stefánsson: that same atmospheric melancholy, that poetic stillness even in the middle of chaos. Lesay’s language doesn't just tell you what his characters are feeling, it makes you feel alongside them, almost like you're carrying the weight of their memories in your own bones.
Naďa’s story opens the book and immediately grounds it in the personal and bodily. A young student, recently diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, trying to live on her own terms, even when those terms are messy, uncomfortable, or misunderstood. Her decision to engage in sex work is never sensationalized; instead, it's rendered with a kind of quiet dignity. Her pain, physical and emotional, is ever-present, but it never defines her. What I loved most here was how much she’s allowed to be contradictory, defiant, and even unknowable at times. She's not a symbol, she’s a person.
Jaro’s section, set in the past, is more grounded. He carries the weight of disillusionment, and his memories are tangled with the history of a country shifting beneath his feet. Lesay gives us glimpses of the political without ever making it abstract. You feel it in Jaro’s small decisions, his nostalgia, his quiet compromises. It’s a portrait of a man navigating a new world that doesn’t quite know what to do with him anymore, and it’s done with incredible subtlety.
Then there’s Adam, decades into the future. A different tone, yes, but not a rupture. It feels like the natural next chapter of this generational story. His world is colder, more disconnected, digitally saturated, but his loneliness feels familiar. There are moments in Adam’s section that made me pause, not because they were dramatic, but because they felt eerily true. What does it mean to feel pain when reality itself is blurring?
The Topography of Pain isn’t a loud novel, it’s a deeply intimate one. And if you’re willing to listen closely, to sit with its silences, you’ll feel its weight grow slowly, like memory or grief.
Ivan Lesay’s debut novel, The Topography of Pain, is a stunning exploration of the human experience, beautifully crafted with intricate, layered storytelling. The novel unfolds through a triptych of stories, each revealing a different facet of suffering and longing, yet all connected by a deep, invisible thread of shared human vulnerability. With seamless transitions between each narrative, Lesay draws the reader into a world where pain is not just a theme but a landscape to be explored, experienced, and understood.
Lesay’s ability to move between these three perspectives is nothing short of admirable. The transitions from one point of view to the next are deftly handled, drawing readers in without a moment’s confusion. There’s a fluidity in his writing, a kind of literary dance, where the poetic and the narrative blend into one harmonious experience. This balance between beauty and structure is rare, and Lesay executes it with precision and grace.
Lesay's prose is delicate and powerful, demanding that the reader take their time with each word. There’s a deliberate slowness to the writing, almost like a meditation on pain itself, forcing the reader to savor each moment, to reflect on the depth of what is being said. The beauty of The Topography of Pain lies not just in the plot but in the way Lesay captures the subtle, tender nuances of human emotion—those things we often cannot name but feel all the same.
The Topography of Pain is, quite simply, one of the most original and beautiful books I've read this year. Lesay’s mastery of language, his ability to explore pain without ever sensationalizing it, and the elegance with which he handles his characters’ stories make this debut a triumph. Poetic, mesmerizing, and brave, this novel will stay with you long after the final page.
Ivan Lesay’s The Topography of Pain is a rare and remarkable literary achievement—an intricate, multi-generational narrative that weaves personal and political trauma into a rich, introspective tapestry. With lyrical precision and philosophical depth, Lesay guides us through three distinct eras: post-communist Slovakia, the uncertain terrain of contemporary Europe, and a dystopian future shaped by the echoes of past failures. What sets this novel apart is its daring structure—a fragmented, non-linear "triptych" that mirrors the chaos and complexity of the worlds its characters inhabit. Rather than offering a traditional plot, Lesay creates an emotional and intellectual journey that demands, and rewards, deep engagement. Each storyline—whether that of the disillusioned father, the searching daughter, or the questioning grandson—feels like a mirror to the reader’s own anxieties about history, progress, and identity. Ivan's grasp of systemic shifts—communism’s fall, the 2008 crash, climate and technological disruption—is seamlessly folded into the emotional lives of his characters. The result is a novel that not only reflects personal struggle but also holds up a lens to the fragility of the systems we build around us. The Topography of Pain is not just an intellectual exercise. It is a deeply human book—full of yearning, memory, and moments of unexpected grace.
Vynikající román, který má hloubku i spád. Velmi zajímavě strukturovaný text, který mnohokrát překvapí. Tu a tam autor zanechal autor tak krásný detail, větu či dvě, jako když někdo postaví chrám pro pár drobných klenotů. Kniha je pro dospělé, ale sex a násilí v ní nejsou samoúčelné. Velmi důležitá je v románu hudba a její prožití každým ze tří hlavních protagonistů. Hledáme štěstí a (sebe)porozumění, než nás svět pohltí. Někteří recenzenti kritizují třetí část, pro ně příliš překvapivou a odlišnou; podle mě ale velmi dobře staví na předchozích dvou a nabízí spoustu prvků k zamyšlení.
Knižka začala dosť zaujímavo. Prvá časť sa mi veľmi páčila, druhá už trošku menej, ale stále dobrá. Avšak tá tretia ma dosť prekvapila, hlavne to, že to prešlo do sci-fi, čo som veľmi neocenila, keďže mi to prišlo ako snaha o kompresiu celého nového sveta do 130 strán a snaha o prepojenie predošlých príbehov bola len veľmi okrajová, až banálna. Tou poslednou časťou pre mňa celá kniha stratila čaro.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Lesay’s prose is lyrical and intellectually dense, merging a poet's sensitivity with a political scientist's precision. It's not an easy read. The structure is fragmented, and the themes are dark, but it is an incredibly rewarding and vital commentary on the pain that endures when grand ideologies collapse.
A must-read for fans of Central European literature and anyone interested in fiction that merges intimate family crises with sweeping political and philosophical critique.
In simple terms I would describe this book as a powerful, deeply human exploration of suffering. With raw, honest prose, the author invites readers to confront the emotional and physical pain that shapes our lives. It’s an unsettling yet strangely comforting read that lingers long after the last page. If you’re drawn to reflective, thought-provoking books, this one is a must-read.
Inspiring and contemplative work; a novel connecting three storylines, three personal stories connected across time in Czechoslovakia, or the new states the country eventually evolved into. It captures the atmosphere of change, transformation; be it political or personal. And change, on any level walks hand in hand with pain - of the body, of soul, the whole society. I personally enjoyed the intimate settings, the dialogues, the transitions between storylines and characters - one the one hand smooth and on the other level raw as all transitions are. Very much recommended.
An inspired “triptych” of a novel, we were thrilled to finally read Slovak writer Ivan Lesly’s award-winning book The Topography of Pain in English, which releases today courtesy Guernica World Editions!
Pulsing with echoes of Czech/ French author Milan Kundera but with a distinctly dystopian and futuristic vantage point, Ivan Lesay’s novel is a compelling interconnected narrative built around three disparate yet connected characters inhabiting different times -from the recent past to the very near future.
Anxiety ridden and each grappling with what comes next however it may come to them, the three main characters central to The Topography of Pain are each given a chapter of their own to navigate their high hopes and thwarted ambitions as best as their circumstances allow. And lurking up ahead, on every page, there is some kind of future, ominously just out of view.
The Topography of Pain is a satisfying read and Lesay, whose background in political science, political economics and green energy, offers us a unique lens through which to view the future just ahead of us. He is a skilled writer with a keen sense of how to move the story forward and a taste for characterization to keep us locked into his narrative.
The translation by British translator Jonathan Gresty is elegant and nuanced giving the entire book a set sense of place and time despite the book being a “triptych” of sorts, with each character’s chapter being set decades apart.
Handily reflecting the unique times we live in, The Topography of Pain is a cautionary tale for our times and our uncertain world of today. Lesay is a talented writer with a strong storytelling voice that offers a great deal of substance in service of a strongly realized narrative. This book is one well worth seeking out!
I had the opportunity to not only read this exceptional book but also interview its author on his North American tour in December 2024 in Ottawa, Ontario. As a Slovak-Canadian born in Czechoslovakia and raised in Slovakia, I was really happy to see a book written about my country translated into English to make this corner of the world and Central Europe more accessible to Western readers. While I read the book in the original, Slovak language, I have read excerpts from the English translation and it does indeed do the book justice. If you like learning about and understanding history and its implications on the present and future through individual stories of complex characters, their trials and tribulations, and emotions, this is the book for you!
I enjoyed reading the Topography of Pain for a few reasons. Being born in Czechoslovakia, the book depicts characters in my familiar settings which helps me reflect the story from my own actual life perspective. Secondly, the book tells stories of 3 different characters, living in different eras, social and technological envrionments, yet sharing very similar and for me relatabe sentiments and desires. The English translation offers an international reader a rare glimpse into life in Czecho-/Slovakia from early 90's through presence to future.
Captivating, thought provoking, enjoyable read. The novel consists of three personal narratives skillfully separated by time, and uses these to blend themes of post communist transition in Eastern Europe (Slovakia), sex industry relations, dystopian futurism and geopolitics. Despite the high level topics, the story is consistently human centered and rolls forward smoothly through the perspective of somewhat unique yet highly relatable characters. Great book, well worth the time!
Topography of Pain is a shattered masterpiece. It does for our increasingly fragmented social reality and personal identity what Kafka did for labyrinthine bureaucracy. It’s existential literature for an era with no unified existence, just shards of glass from an exploding funhouse of mirrors, out of order, leaving only slices that reflect encounters and moments of humanity while cutting across three generations. It’s not hopeless—within those reflections, Lesay leaves us a thread to connect the pieces—but it is a direction and a warning. Like the very best literature, the rest is up to the reader.
Brilliant novel, with both depth and drive. Remarkably structured, with many surprises. Abundantly thought-provoking. And here and there, the author leaves a beautiful detail, a sentence or two, as if someone built an entire temple for a few gems. The book is clearly for adults, but scenes of sex and violence have a purpose, they aren’t self-serving. Music (and how it is lived by each of the three protagonists) plays an important role. We search for happiness and (self-)understanding, before the world swallows us.