U jednom od tragicnih trenutaka sarajevske istorije, grad je piscu posluzio kao simbolicni dekor na cijem fonu ce se razvijati album ljudskih sudbina. Roman prati dolazak Omerpase u Sarajevo, njegov rad na prenosenju centra moci iz Travnika u Sarajevo i sredivanju prilika u zemlji. Prica o Omerpasi, njegovoj porodici, prijateljima i neprijateljima, cita se kao daleki patinirani album velikog slikara, na kome su prikazani ljudski odnosi i zivot u jednom dalekom vremenu...
Ivo Andrić (Serbian Cyrillic: Иво Андрић; born Ivan Andrić) was a Yugoslav novelist, poet and short story writer who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1961. His writings dealt mainly with life in his native Bosnia under Ottoman rule. Born in Travnik in Austria-Hungary, modern-day Bosnia and Herzegovina, Andrić attended high school in Sarajevo, where he became an active member of several South Slav national youth organizations. Following the assassination of Archduke of Austria Franz Ferdinand in June 1914, Andrić was arrested and imprisoned by the Austro-Hungarian police, who suspected his involvement in the plot. As the authorities were unable to build a strong case against him, he spent much of the war under house arrest, only being released following a general amnesty for such cases in July 1917. After the war, he studied South Slavic history and literature at universities in Zagreb and Graz, eventually attaining his PhD. in Graz in 1924. He worked in the diplomatic service of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia from 1920 to 1923 and again from 1924 to 1941. In 1939, he became Yugoslavia's ambassador to Germany, but his tenure ended in April 1941 with the German-led invasion of his country. Shortly after the invasion, Andrić returned to German-occupied Belgrade. He lived quietly in a friend's apartment for the duration of World War II, in conditions likened by some biographers to house arrest, and wrote some of his most important works, including Na Drini ćuprija (The Bridge on the Drina). Following the war, Andrić was named to a number of ceremonial posts in Yugoslavia, which had since come under communist rule. In 1961, the Nobel Committee awarded him the Nobel Prize in Literature, selecting him over writers such as J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Frost, John Steinbeck and E.M. Forster. The Committee cited "the epic force with which he ... traced themes and depicted human destinies drawn from his country's history". Afterwards, Andrić's works found an international audience and were translated into a number of languages. In subsequent years, he received a number of awards in his native country. Andrić's health declined substantially in late 1974 and he died in Belgrade the following March. In the years following Andrić's death, the Belgrade apartment where he spent much of World War II was converted into a museum and a nearby street corner was named in his honour. A number of other cities in the former Yugoslavia also have streets bearing his name. In 2012, filmmaker Emir Kusturica began construction of an ethno-town in eastern Bosnia that is named after Andrić. As Yugoslavia's only Nobel Prize-winning writer, Andrić was well known and respected in his native country during his lifetime. In Bosnia and Herzegovina, beginning in the 1950s and continuing past the breakup of Yugoslavia, his works have been disparaged by Bosniak literary critics for their supposed anti-Muslim bias. In Croatia, his works had occasionally been blacklisted following Yugoslavia's dissolution in the 1990s, but were rehabilitated by the literary community. He is highly regarded in Serbia for his contributions to Serbian literature.
U jednom trenutku, otomanski serasker Omer-paša Latas skida uniformu i turban, zatim se krsti sa tri prsta. Ovo čini, ne iz čežnje i sentimenta prema staroj veri, već čisto praktičnih i taktičkih razloga - za koga i pred kim bi trebalo. Nekada je bio poznat kao Mića Latas, lički Srbin iz Janje Gore. Danas, strahovladalac i krvnik neukrotivih političkih i seksualnih apetita, modernim jezikom bi ga mogli opisati terminom "insajder", poslat je u Bosnu da zavede red "među svojima".
Kao i veći deo Andrićevog opusa, roman "Omer-paša Latas" rotira oko poimanja identiteta. Prvi stratus: onaj koji se gubi u mlađim danima kroz odvođenje i prisilnu promenu vere; zatim, radi čuvanja glave na ramenima i čekanja nekih drugih, blagonaklonijih silnika. Ali naslovni junak spada u onaj najređi, pragmatični sloj pojedinaca koji su dali veru zarad uspona u državnom aparatu i sticanje moći. Njegova tranzicija i dvojnost spiritualnog državljanstva večito je "založne" prirode, tu je kada i koliko zatreba kao roba pogodna za sve prilike.
Poslednje Andrićevo delo, objavljeno posthumno 1977. godine, nastalo iz njegovih spisa, u određenim krugovima se smatra kao nezavršeno, što možda i objašnjava činjenicu da se ovaj naslov sreće slučajno, bez skoro ikakvog pominjanja u školskim programima. Ovde leži propuštena prilika, jer "Omer-paša Latas" je skoro pa savršen uvod u stvaralaštvo našeg nobelovca. Obuhvata sve ključne teme u kolažu formi likova čiji su životi dotaknuti, pa i oblikovani od strane surovog posilnika, istkane takvim jezikom gde je dobro poznata poetika andrićevskog meandriranja svedena na kraće i lakše deonice.
Kako beše onda, tako je i danas. Sudbina malih naroda u verziji mikrokosmosa našeg mentaliteta, večita opomena, lekcija koju učiteljica života nikako da usadi, kao i prirodna podložnost nesložnih za porobljavanje, bile su i ostaće vezivno tkivo čoveka koji se najbolje opisuje kao Balkanac.
I read this in a weekend, that's how immersed I was in this world. Omer Pasha Latas is actually an unfinished work by the author, and while the ending was rather abrupt and it could be argued that this was more of gathering of character sketches than a fully developed novel, what character sketches they were! I could easily have read another 300 pages of this.
The author dealt a lot with intersectionality. The character that the book is named for, Omer Pasha Latas, is seraskier, or marshal, to the Sultan of the Ottomon Empire. At least, that is what how he reinvented himself. He was born to a poor Austrian family of Orthodox Christian faith in Serbian territory. The army he leads is called the "traitor's army" because although they are technically representatives of the Sultan and the Ottoman Empire, soldiers who, like the seraskier, converted to Islam, they are actually Poles, Germans, Serbians, Croats, all who fled some disaster in their homeland and turned to Turkey and the Muslim faith to reinvent themselves.
The historical context was enough to draw me to this book, but it was the psychological explorations of the characters that made it for me. The author was able to depict his characters as they are seen by others, as they are seen by themselves and how they actually are, and by doing so he was able to illustrate how vulnerable and judgmental people are. This gave the book a universal quality.
I initially thought this would be a military historical fiction, but it had little to do with an actual military campaign, beyond that being the set up that brings the seraskier to the village in question and sets up the cacophony of personalities. I wasn't disappointed by it at all.
Fun fact: This was a work of fiction but it was based on a real person. There was a Omer Pasha Latas who did indeed run away from Serbia to the Ottomon Empire.
Књига тешка као и сама Босна што је тешка, али се чита са лакоћом и једноставношћу јер обилује блискошћу догађаја и описа. Не само о самом животу и доласку Омерпаше Латаса у Сарајево са царским декретом да уведе реформе и посече главе побуњеним и одузме им имовину, него и љубавним заплетима који имају чак и трагични крај. И као што сам писац каже: Сви путеви воде у Сарајево, али из њега нема излаза.
Prvi put sam "Omer-pašu Latasa" čitala brzo i bez velikog interesa, pred ispitni rok, samo da ga pročitam da bih mogla da učestvujem u vježbama iz Imanentnih poetika. U žurbi i preopterećenosti obavezama, pored sve ljubavi za Andrićevo stvaralaštvo, nije se moglo drugačije. Sada sam čitala polako i skoncentrisano, uživajući daleko više nego što sam mislila da hoću. Bio mi je ostao osjećaj o umjetničkoj izuzetnosti djela kao i sjećanje na raspravu o nedovršenosti romana, ali su se likovi potpuno izgubili. Sada, osvježeni, otvaraju jednu sasvim novu dimenziju i pogled na Andrićeva djela i Bosnu. Uostalom, Andrić nikad ne razočara. Omer-paša (i njegov dolazak u Bosnu 50-ih godina XIX vijeka) poslužio je da se oslika čitava jedna galerija neobičnih ljudi iz pašinog Konaka. Neobični ljudi i teške sudbine s jedne strane, priča o Bosni i Bosancima s druge. Uz lik slikara Karasa našlo se mjesta da se progovori o umjetnosti i umjetniku. Jasni tragovi nedovršenosti ne oduzimaju ovom romanu ništa od njegove vrijednosti i on potpuno ravnopravno stoji sa "Travničkom hronikom" i "Ćuprijom". Mozaička struktura samo može podstaći čitaoca da domišlja i gradi ovaj roman onako kako zna, umije i želi.
Andric's final novel has moments of insight and beauty, but at times its incompleteness is obvious. In his introduction, Vollmann calls it a strange novel and I would have to agree. Ostensibly about the titular character, this novel is really a collection of stories about individuals within the Pasha's immediate circle. The Pasha is often spoken of but for the most part he remains off stage; lurking but never present.
Several of theses stories are very well done. We spend the majority of the novel inside the minds of Andric's characters, and with this method the author easily portrays the torment, desire, depression and uncertainty that seems to possess every person in Bosnia.
'Omer Pasha Latas' is a good novel that offers so much promise if the author had lived to see it completed. In its current form, however, it falls short of excellence.
My biggest takeaway is that it is human nature to want to sit in judgement of others. Given the events of Andric's political life, it is not surprising that he feels this way.
3.5 rounded up. This basically just a series of character sketches. Some of the writing is lovely, as you would expect from Andrić, but there is no real plot to speak of and it drags a bit as a result.
In his last novel written (but not 100% finished) just before his death in 1975, Ivo Andrić gives us some foretaste of the Yugoslav breakup some seventeen years later. His Omer Pasha Latas: Marshal to the Sultan survives as a series of vignettes of Sarajevo under the occupation of a seraskier, or Ottoman marshal, around 1850-1851.
It starts out with a procession of the seraskier and his army as it enters Sarajevo, leaving us with the impression that the book will concentrate on Omer Pasha himself. But as the story unravels, we see various characters, such as his major domo, the man in charge of his coffee, a visiting Croatian painter, two judges, and various other characters. Omer Pasha and most of his officers are originally Christians from the Balkans, Austria, or Hungary who have sworn fealty to the Sultan and converted to Islam.
This conversion is mostly a matter of form. At one point, Omer Pasha puts out an edict demanding that his formerly Christian officers submit to circumcision under Muslim rules. In fact, most of the officers are able to weasel out of the edict with the collaboration of Omer Pasha, a Bosnian whose first name was originally Miko, or Michael.
So it is that most of the former Yugoslavia consists of Croatians, Slovenians, Serbs, and Bosniaks -- all of whom speak basically the same language (Serbo-Croatian) which all of them can more or less understand, but which they insist are completely separate languages. The hatreds are there, simmering under the surface or erupting in open violence.
CRO/ENG Sa ovim romanom zaključujem svoje čitanje djela Ive Andrića, budući da lirika i nezamisliv broj priča, koje je napisao, nisu među mojim najdražim oblicima književnosti, iako predstavljaju proširenu sliku svijeta kojega je ovaj sjajni pisac ostavio iza sebe. Unatoč činjenici da je ''Omer Paša Latas'' nedovršen, satkan od gomile poglavlja koja su čudno povezana (razlog za slabiju ocjenu), i što podsjeća dosta na svoje prethodnike, ''Travničku hroniku'' i ''Na Drini ćuprija'', moram priznati kako sam imao zanimljivo vrijeme čitajući ga (paralelno provodeći i posječujući mjesta u Bosni i Hercegovini za vrijeme godišnjeg). Čak je i svijet veći u ovom romanu, u odnosu na ''Travničku hroniku'' (gdje sam naročito primjetio dosta sličnosti) i nisam osjetio kao da napredujem puževim korakom ili da sam prespavao veliki dio priče, zbog konstantnih pripovijedanja (bez dijaloga) i opisivanja. Iako ima dosta likova, svaki od njih dobiva po nekoliko poglavlja posvećenih isključivo njihovim života i što ih je oblikovalo kao osobe kakve su, za što pohvale idu i uredniku koji ih je pažljivo proučio i rasporedio, što je moguće više, kronološki. Za mene, ovo je sigurno primjer gdje knjiga budi u čitatelju znatiželju da izađe iz poznatog i upusti se na putovanje kako bi posjetio jedan novi svijet.
With this novel I'm going to conclude my read of works by Ivo Andrich, since the lyrics and the unimaginable number of short stories, which he wrote, is not among my favorite forms of literature, although they represent the expanded picture of the world which this amazing author has left behind. Despite the fact that ''Omer Pasha Latas'' is left unfinished, composed of huge number of chapters that are strangely connected (a reason for a lesser grade), and reminding so much on his predecessors, ''Bosnian Chronicle'' and ''The Bridge on Drine'', I must confess that I've had an interesting time reading it (alongside spending and visiting places in Bosnia and Herzegovina). Even the world in the novel is much bigger, when comparing it to ''Bosnian Chronicle'' (where I've noticed a lot of similarities) and I didn't have an impression like I was advancing by a snail's pace or that I overslept through majority of a story, as a consequence of constant narration and (without dialogues) and descriptions. Although it has a lot of characters, each of them gets a few chapters dedicated exclusively to their lives and what shaped them into the persons that they are, for which I must congratulate the editor for carefully analising and sorting them, as much as possible, by chronological order. For me, this is definitely an example where the book awakens the curiosity in reader to get out from familiar and venture on a journey to to visit a brand new world.
Queria saber ler servo-croata só para ler esse livro no original. A construção das frases é tão impressionante. A maneira como Andrić coloca cada parágrafo, a escolha das palavras. Muito mérito, também, é claro, da tradutora para o inglês, Celia Hawkesworth, que traduziu diversas obras do autor. O romance é uma sucessão de esquetes com a chegada do Omer Pasha na Sarajevo do século XIX, onde muçulmanos e cristãos vivem sob tensão. Ele é um seraskier comandante do exército do sultão. Mas a Andrić não interessa apenas ele, mas moradores elevados e populares da cidade. Uma das passagens mais bonitas é a de um homem que enlouqueceu por amor. Enfim, um livro impressionante na construção e representação de um mundo, e um estudo das figuras humanas desse lugar.
Plus qu'une simple bibliographie de Omer Pacha Latas, c'est un peu de l'histoire de Sarajevo qui est contée, une galerie de personnages et des moments de vie. Ivo Andric a vraiment un très grand talent pour décrire tout cela, entremêler les trames et faire voyager le lecteur dans une atmosphère de conte.
Another enjoyable book from Ivo Andric that well describes the fate of a small country with its own culture, age-old traditions, its own internal problems and ways of handling them but who must endure at regular intervals the pains and humiliations inflicted on them by agents of the large foreign power they are required to obey. The people and traditions endure while empires come and go.
Balkanlar ve Bosna tarihi dendiğinde akla gelen ilk isimlerden birisi olan İvo Andriç, bu eserinde de Bosna üzerinden çökmekte olan Osmanlı İmparatorluğu'nu ve Balkan coğrafyasında yaşanan olayları ele alıyor. Bunu yaparken de, Ömer Paşa gibi dönemin en önemli şahsiyetlerinden birisi üzerinden anlatıyor. Bunda Ömer Paşa'nın konumu kadar, kendisinin Hırvatistan doğumlu bir Balkan yerlisi olmasının da etkisi olduğuna inanıyorum.
Anlatım tarzı olarak, yazarın okuduğum diğer kitabı olan Drina Köprüsü'ne benzememekte. Drina Köprüsü'nde yazar daha çok diyaloglar üzerinden ve farklı karakterler arasındaki olayları anlatarak, ana fikri vermeye çalışıyor. Bu romandaysa, daha çok betimleme mevcut.
Eğer ki Balkan tarihine ilgiliyseniz, İvo Andriç'in tarzını seviyorsanız, Osmanlı'nın çöküş dönemi ve Balkan coğrafyasındaki etkilerini görmek istiyorsanız ve Balkanlar ile ilgili özellikle de Bosna ile ilgili eser okumak istiyorsanız bu romanı tavsiye ederim. Benim Bosna ve Balkan coğrafyasına özel ilgim var, bu sebeple okurken fazladan keyif aldığımı belirtmem lazım.
Omer Pasha Latas is less a plot-driven novel and more a series of vignettes and character portraits. Though the writing is fragmentary you get to read some excellent characterization against an immersive setting that will leave a deep impression of the occupation and its violence. The world Andrić portrays is bleak, sexual violence and exploitation are routine, peasants have property seized, political opponents are exiled in chains. As summarized near the end of the book:
“But now the times were such that even those who had never so much as lit their own pipes must labor and dig, when those who had always shaped and applied the laws wore chains. This was a humiliation that could not be borne, and against which nothing could be done, which could have been dreamed up only by this convert from Lika, a former Austrian junior officer, a fugitive and servant, and now the commander, the seraskier and “saber in the sultan’s hand.” This was the end of the world.”
Against this setting Andrić brings a series of characters to life in individualized portraits. Most of the characters depicted in these vignettes are members of Latas' staff or close circle, but you also get to see a few sections dedicated to his wife and Latas himself. These sections are beautifully written and give you deep insight into these peoples’ backstories, personal character and motivations. As nearly everyone in the book is tied to Latas in someway (or is impacted by his rule) as the book continues along you build a deep impression of Latas and the wake he leaves on the collective population, as well as the individuals closest to him.
There is a particular few quotes in the sections revolving around Karas, a painter tasked with painting Latas that are both illustrative of the characterization in the book, but also (in my opinion) provides some moments where Andrić could be speaking through the character to describe the patchwork novel he is writing:
“Karas was able to read many such things and still stranger ones in Hajrudin Pasha’s face, which he now carried within himself and on which he saw everything down to the most minute details and most hidden traits. He saw it all so clearly and understood it so well that it was no longer the remembered face of a man but an already complete picture of that face, not on canvas, but in the half-light behind his closed eyelids. It already contained those charmed, precious elements, which at a given moment erased the differences between an object and its image, which are only gathered together and realized through exceptionally lengthy observation, great labor and effort. And that frightened and worried him.”
“Unfortunately, as the years passed, there were ever more portraits that had come into being within him as of their own accord and that he now carried in the depths of his vision. He could summon them and look at them whenever he wished, and contemplate the destiny of those they represented. In short, he could do everything except return them to the state they had been in when he first laid eyes on them. And, most tragic of all, he could not make of them even an ordinary picture, still a less perfect one, that would be accessible to everyone”
Reading this book feels a lot like existing within Karas’ mind. Moving from vivid portrait to vivid portrait as you slowly build an understanding of the world that molded these characters. It is an engrossing experience that brings the written world and characters to life in way few other books can.
Despite all of this, the book is unfinished. There are likely gaps in the patchwork of characters. People are mentioned who play a large role in the real history of the era and then are given little to no follow up. There is an ending section that describes the Ottomans leaving Sarajevo but it is very abrupt and feels like a flash forward in time. This comes right as the characterization of Latas has been picking up and the semblance of a plot is taking shape (or at least events are starting to carry through vignettes). There is the skeleton of a sweeping novel here that spans years of Latas’ time in the region and introduces you to however many more new characters and the fact that we don’t get to read that is a shame. That being said, the fact that there is so much still worth reading here despite its state is a real testament to Andrić and the quality of the writing.
Иако је овај роман Андрићево незавршено дело, по мом мишљењу ово је његова најбоља књига. Незавршена је у смислу да никад није стигао да је коначно заокружи и среди, она има почетак и крај, али су делови између некад помешани и неки недостају (рецимо Андрић није стигао да опише односе између Омер-паше и његове жене). Ипак, ово је типичан андрићевски роман који има неку посебну димензију. Док је рецимо у "На Дрини Ћуприја" главни мотив вишеградски мост и сви ликови имају неке везе с њим током неколико векова, овде су фокус Омер-паша Латас и живот Сарајева и Босанског пашалука током пар година када је Омер-паша био послат из Стамбола да реши унутрашње проблеме у овој османској провинцији. Главни мотив је криза идентитета, и то се налази у више прича, како везано за самог Омер-пашу који је носилац тог проблема, али и многих других као што су његов брат Мустај-бег (који не може да се помири са променом идентитета, слично као и Омерова жена - не може ни Омер, али он ипак то "успешно" подноси за разлику од својих најближих). Са "Госпођицом" је спона што описује тај дух Босне у тешким, ратним временима (што има и у другим његовим делима), али и један лик, Идрис-ефендија (ако се не варам), који је такође патолошки тврдица као и Рајка Радаковић, с тим што је његов мотив неумољив страх од глади, чак и када има новца. У погледу "Травничке хронике" то су бројне дипломатске игре и односи између дипломатских представника, и начина како изгледа један конзулски/амбасадорски/посланички естаблишмент. То се посебно види у поглављима са аустријским конзулом Атанацковићем, који је оптерећен Омер-пашином способношћу да лаже. По њему, паша толико лаже да је и његова истина исто толико непоуздана јер је окружена лажима, чиме се њена истинитост поништава. Толико тога још треба рећи о темама које ова књига покреће: питање уметничког стваралаштва, губитка инспирације и протраћеног поверења мање заједнице у наду једног њеног младог талента (хрватски сликар Вјекослав); питање ласкања (Евет-ефендија); сукоб модерног и традиционалног, сукоб политичког центра и политичке периферије; живот у туђини и губитак идентитета као главни мотив ове књиге, као и које су потенцијалне последице тога по људи и како се они носе са тим. За читање је најтежи део био о Костаћу, али ми је на крају било интересантно како је Андрић уписао Костаћево убиство Анђе, јер је ту на један безвремен начин описао како се народ (и власт) понашају када се деси фемицид. Такође је и веома снажан утисак на мене оставио део када војска силује једну босанску циганку, што ме је доста подсетило на Моравијину "Чочару". Најбољи делови су свакако када Омер-паша разговара са гачанским кнезом Зимоњићем, и када се израђује Омер-пашин портрет. Има још много тога, али ово су неки најважнији утисци везани за ову књигу. Од мана, нека поглавља су можда мало досаднија (као рецимо о Костаћу и муртад-табору) или им се некад не види целокупни смисао и повезаност са осталим деловима (али су они ипак доста занимљиви или барем лепо написани). Само издање је такође добро, предговор Жанете Ђукић из Андрићеве задужбине одлично уведе читаоца у овај Андрићев роман, а на крају се налази и исечак из мемоара Јована Авакумовића, који је као српски студент у Паризу 1865. срео Омер-пашу Латаса и разговарао са њим.
Omer Pasha Latas by Nobel Prize winner Ivo Andrić is set during the nineteenth-century Sarajevo, a place where both Muslims and Christians live, harboring uneasy feelings toward one another and resentment for the Ottoman rule.
While I didn’t find a common plot in this story, other than the actions of Omer and his troops, I found the story quite engaging. This book is about characters, rather than plot, which fit perfectly.
For instance, Andrić's most prominent character is Omer Pasha Latas, a sexual deviant and a turncoat. This quote sums up how horrible Omer Pasha Latas was to Bosnia and the Ottoman Empire as a whole: “Yes, killing and lechery! Because everything in this house is infected with foul, profane lechery: timber and stone and every last rag; bread and water and air are infected with it; and lechery kills, it must kill, for it’s the same as death, unnatural, shameful. Gossip is the order of the day: an invisible web of intrigue, slander, whispering and, particularly malicious gossip was constantly being woven, tangled, untangled and woven anew.”
But Andrić doesn’t stop there. Another haunting picture is of a man only briefly mentioned. It is Osman, the town fool. He went crazy for never finding his love, a stranger.
Then there’s my favorite character of them all: Saida Hanuma, a character well ahead of her time. Saida Hanuma is a refreshing take on women. Andrić is one of the only male writers of his time (I know of) who actually gives women a three-dimensional image.
Saida Hanuma is strong and clever, yet too trusting. It's with this trusting she falls into traps. She is quite possibly one of my favorite female characters of all time. Here are two quotes that really explain what she went through:
“As though it had a hundred paws, it was tearing through the thick branches in which she was hidden, breaking them, maddened by the desire to reach her, naked and defenseless, to tell her to pieces and devour her.”
“These men would never grasp the simple truth that the female being sitting before then, attracting them so irresistibly, was not here for them, and was not merely what they saw and desired: she was a whole, complex person, with specific characteristics and needs, and her own soul, at the end of the day. No one asked her what she thought and felt, what she believed, what she expected from life, they simply stretched out their hands toward her throat and waist, as if drowning.”
Andrić’s novel is well worth the read. It exposes readers to a classical world not often taught in history classes (at least the classes I took in high school or college). It is the other side of the world. The world of the Ottomans and their power. This power destroyed lives and towns. It seemed unstoppable. Everyone should learn about this. I highly suggest this!
I picked up Omer Pasha Latas: Marshall to the Sultan because a) it said on the back it was like the Radetsky March (to this day my favourite novel) and b) I am interested in the setting: the Ottoman Balkans in the mid-19th century.
This was (in many respects) a difficult book to read. The prose is quite turgid, and very obviously a translation, since some of it does not quite fit in English (but this can’t be helped, and it’s on me for being a dumb monolingual). None of the characters - I mean none of them - are likeable in the slightest. Most are tragic, and some - including the Seraskier - are just evil, evil people. It is, in short, a depressing book. Moreover, it is very clearly incomplete: although there is trajectory of sorts - Omer Pasha arrives in Bosnia, crushes the local rebellion, then leaves - a strong plot is difficult to discern. I think I read that Andrić died before he finished it.
But this lack of plot might be deliberate. It seems that Andrić was aiming rather to create a mood (like Roth in the Radetsky March) of imperial decay, an irrevocable rotting reflected in the very inhabitants of empire. And this is done with great subtlety indeed - but I won’t spoil it for prospective readers any more. I will perhaps return to this later in life, when I am more able to appreciate what is clearly high literature, and not a tacky historical novel. 3/5.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Not so much a novel as a series of character sketches and vignettes circling around the character of Omer Pasha, the cruel and oppressive “sword” of the Sultan, tasked with subduing mid 19th century Bosnia. Some great images including an excellent discussion of portrait painting as well as the sycophants and toadies around Omer. Sarajevo is the “city of hate” and everything from civil society to personal conduct (lying as a cultural style) is corrupted. If a Western European had written this s/he would be vilified (William Vollman’s unhelpful forward can’t quite say this!)
"Sarajevo is not a city of crime... one could rather say that it is a city of hate, and hate easily finds new causes and confirmation to justify it everywhere."
Omer Pasha Latas is a book of numerous themes but the quote above encapsulates what I believe to be one of the most salient of them. Although tied together by the events pertaining to Omer Pasha's arrival at the head of new, modern Ottoman army, this book has been correctly described elsewhere as a series of vignettes, where Andrić compellingly explores the, quite frankly, depressing reality faced by the eclectic group of individuals that found themselves caught up in the hostile, bloody relationship of an imperial power and its wild frontier province.
No character, no matter how sympathetic (a fairly rare occurrence in this book) escapes the concoction of hatred, disdain and hypocrisy that seems a draught imbibed from Bosnia's very air. Hatred, for all those that have wronged them (justified or otherwise). Disdain, for all those that are beneath them in either rank, ethnicity, religion or provenance. Hypocrisy, the result of high ideals that are either unsustainable in their current environment or never truly believed in the first place, but are nonetheless spewed out as mantras to justify their means. In so many cases throughout the book and, one suspects, in reality, this only ends in madness, despair and, not infrequently, death. If there is one conclusion that is to be drawn from the events herein, it is that suffering does not strengthen a person, it chips away at their very being until, in a desperate and hopeless moment, it breaks them; finally and utterly.
In a way that is equal parts disheartening and impressive, the doom and gloom of Andrić's Bosnia never feels ham-fisted but always as a bitterly believable state of affairs. Indeed, the role of Bosnia itself in creating this atmosphere is a fascinatingly complex one. To those suffering, particularly amongst those from further afield, Bosnia is the cause of their misfortune. In Omer Pasha's entourage, Bosnia is the enemy that must be tamed and it seems that the very land, in addition to its people, seeks to eject them and lay them low. Their lives, once at least tolerable if not actually enjoyable, seem to deteriorate all the more acutely. Andrić does a marvellous job in undermining this assumption made by his characters, even when writing from their point of view. When recounting their lives, it becomes obvious that the maladies of the soul that infest the Pasha's family and associates had taken hold long before their arrival in Bosnia. In the case of Omer Pasha's brother, Nikola, this is perhaps a little on the nose as his internal sickness is mirrored by an obligatory bout of nineteenth century tuberculosis.
When considering the above, it is rather difficult not to consider Bosnia and Sarajevo as characters themselves. At times insidious (the Ottoman perpective), at times possessing a strange, wild beauty and most frequently, as places to be pitied. The latter is, by far, the most persistent. Andrić constantly reminds his reader that this is not the first time a conquering army has laid waste to this land and its people, whose memories of the last violation are never too far away from the present public consciousness. The Bosnia that is painted here, quite literally by the damaged Zagrebian artist, Karas, is not one that is the cause of its own misfortune, though ravaged and destitute, but one of a nation whose people have hardened around the fact that their fatherland is forever destined to the battleground of not only temporal empires but the higher war for hearts, souls and identities of its denizens.
It is not lost on me that one cannot study this book entirely in the isolation of the period it portrays. As William Vollmann states in the introduction to the NYRB translation, Andrić and his writings have a profound place in the cultural narrative of later Yugoslavia and the bitter conflict that surrounded its dissolution, long after the author himself had died. I am of an age where I am too young for the war of the 1990s to hold too great a place in my consciousness and I must confess to a more general ignorance of the region's modern history. It is for those reasons, though I am aware of the debate, that I shall not venture to comment on whether I find Andrić's presentation of Bosnia as chauvinistic, though it is a discussion that I would be interested to observe.
What I am willing to state, however, is that this book serves as a poignant and melancholic reminder that, even for those of us where life seems routine, comfortable and indefinite, the world is constantly in flux and a single, perhaps seemingly minor, event might lead to collapse. Collapse, however, is just as temporary as stability and when the pillars of high ideals, self-conceit and zeal have come crashing down, there will remain the foundations: common people, with or upon whom new pillars might be built. As Omer Pasha's army marches out of Sarajevo, soiled and tarnished where before it had gleamed with imperial 'progress', Bosnia's people yet endure, ready to continue their lives despite the devastation and death that comes for them like the seasons.
Beautiful writing, and many a fascinating observation about we humans. The story is more a collection of shorter pieces about various characters, but it's all tied together by the man of the title.
У последњем роману И. Андрића пратимо пачворк људских судбина поређаних временски у периоду када је Омер-паша/Мићо Латас средином 19. века заводио ред у Босни (започео геноцидну српску политику у Босни?). Пачворк је доста лабав јер неке нарочите радње ван кратких крокија и нема. Очигледно је да Андрић није стигао да ишмиргла све како треба и да је дело недовршено.
Упркос томе, има доста андрићевских џивџанизама, који су тестамент Ивином велемајсторству да кује општеместашке бисере. Истина по мало смарају шаблонски развоји, тј пропадања ликова и бацање хејта на Босну али то је његов гас. Насупрот томе има неколико бисера (Изет ефендија и његова пријава да тек са ослобођењем од исхране можемо бити потпуно слободни, као и његова размишљања о комплексности припреме хране). Занимљив је и опис сусрета два земљака, Богдана Зимоњића и Латаса.
Вулканово издање има ложачки apendix у виду описа сусрета ”стварног” Омер-паше и младих српских научника у Француској 60их година 19. века у Паризу у којем можемо да прочитамо излив Мићовог српства у мозак. Ово сведочанство стоји у доста великом контрасту са описом Омер-паше у самом роману али ето Вулкан је хтео да нас мало помази на крају.
A terrible story about awful people, beautifully written.
Andrić's observations on human nature are apt, cutting, and completely unflattering. There's not a single character in the book that you feel good rooting for - maybe the wife, but she's toying with the painter the whole time. The writing is gorgeous, and the quality is the only reason I was able to finish the book (though it was a slog!).
The structure of the book is sort of vignettes about each member of Omer Latas's household. There's not a lot of plot gluing these stories together. The book ends abruptly and without any kind of satisfying conclusion or payoff for struggling through the lushly written descriptions of these terrible people.
If you want to read this, I'd suggest priming yourself with the history of this complex part of the world - I felt pretty lost without historical context, characters to invest in, or linear plot.
The subject of this book is how a military leader traumatizes the land he is sent to subdue. But that's just the cover story. It's really about the ways traumatized people traumatize others. It's less a novel that a series of short stories on that theme. It isn't brutal or anything. In fact, most of it is the description of the interior thought processes of the subjects. No one knows how to transcend it and one suspects that no one would be interested in doing so even if they did. They just blindly exist, victims and victimizers who don't even know how to hope for something better.
3.5 stars. Very descriptive, and well described, but also quite disjointed: I felt like there was a new character being introduced, and an old character being dropped, every two chapters.
“Their life, or rather their compensation for a lost life, their main task and uncertain refuge, their love and hatred, hopeless love and impotent hatred, their medicine, their sickness and death—was drink. Drink and its powerful, deceptive, short-lived effect. Almost all of them drank, copiously and furiously, with no order or measure…. It was for drink that they worked, lived and died. They thought, dreamed and talked about it, they fed on it, breathed it. They marched and set up camp, left and returned, conversed and stayed silent, sang and wept with drink, in it they found curses and prayers, tenderness and bitterness. They drank in the garrisons and winter quarters from Aleppo and Baghdad to Bihać in Bosnia, they drank as they prepared every campaign, in the course of the battle and after it, resting or treating their wounds; they drank on an empty stomach, with food and after it, before sleep and during brief spells of wakefulness when roused by bad dreams and tormented by indigestion…. They drank mercilessly, unstintingly, greedily, downing it in one or savoring it slowly, in company, in wild sprees, or each on his own, secretly and silently. They got into debt and disgrace, lied and quarreled because of drink, they stole it and hid it, and then at night, furtively and soundlessly, poured it into themselves; but, equally, they would share the last drop with a good friend, because a passion is sweeter when shared…. Drink made them capable of anything, of theft and violence, deceit and vileness, as well as valor in war or generous acts in everyday life; it buoyed and supported them, but it also poisoned and corroded them, and from day to day it changed them, in the way that drink always changes people: never for the better.”
“As soon as he sat down in front of the stretched canvas, he forgot the painter and the rest of the word. For just a moment or two he thought about his position, about painting in general, each time with the same wonderment. Painting was not ordinary work, nor was being painted an unimportant business. It was a miracle. You were born again, came into being, grew, rejoiced, suffered, fell ill, grew old, everything, but you did not die, on the contrary, you endured in your transience, almost eternal, firm and real as no one who knew you saw you but as you had secretly always wished to be.”
“Beauty. The mysterious, elusive, luxurious beauty of a woman, which demanded to be painted. Lucky the man who succeeds in this, and luckier still the one who is able to see in that painting what was there, and not stars and clouds and a mad, dangerous delusion! Beauty, the greatest of all human deceptions: if you do not grasp it—it is not there, if you try to take it—it ceases to exist. And we do not know whether it attracts us with its power or whether the power comes from within us and is broken, like water against a stone, where it encounters beauty.”
“These men would never grasp the simple truth that the female being sitting before them, attracting them so irresistibly, was not here for them, and was not merely what they saw and desired: she was a whole, complex person, with specific characteristics and needs, and her own soul, at the end of the day. No one asked her what she thought and felt, what she believed, what she expected from life, they simply stretched out their hands toward her throat and waist, as if drowning. Some pretended to be interested in her music, others whispered verses to her, some offered money and property, others rolled their eyes, sighing, as they spoke of love stronger than death. But they were all the same; you could not trust even the most restrained and decent among them; no one wanted anything from her for her sake, they all wanted the same thing—her, her herself, naked, spread out like a carpet, for them to tread underfoot and sully. They all wished to get close to her, unbearably close, to open her up and exploit her like a mountain rich in ores, to rummage and sift through her like the sandy floor of a gold-bearing river.”
“If we all had the opportunity, courage and strength to transform just a part of our imaginings and most ardent desires into reality, at just one moment of our lives, it would be immediately clear to the whole world and to ourselves who we are, what we are, what we are like and what we are capable of becoming and being. Fortunately, for most of us, that opportunity never arises and we never cross from imagination and transient irrational thoughts to deeds and actions. But if, by some misfortune, it does happen to someone, that someone finds that we are all merciless judges.”
The novel centers on the harsh subjection of Sarajevo and the broader Bosnia by the Ottoman army in 1850-51. The central figure in the novel is Omer Pasha Latas, the ruthless seraskier (commander in chief).
Although unfinished at the time of Andric’s death in 1975, the novel is fully effective in its existing format. Rather than following a chronological approach, it comprises a series of portraits of Omer and others in his orbit. These portraits combine a modern depth of psychological analysis with a folkloric approach to the Bosnian peoples that seems timeless.
Several chapters are truly remarkable:
“The History of Saida Hanuma” describes the upbringing and painful transition to womanhood of Omer’s wife, Saida. After a carefree childhood as a beautiful young girl, she faces relentless, exhausting pursuit by male admirers as a young woman. The description of her feelings feels fully relevant today:
“These men would never grasp the simple truth that the female being sitting before them, attracting them so irresistibly, was not here for them, and was not merely what they saw and desired; she was a whole, complex person, with specific characteristics and needs, and her own soul, at the end of the day. No one asked what she thought and felt, what she believed, what she expected from life, they simply stretched out their hands toward her throat and waist, as if drowning.”
“Kostake Nenishanu” presents the tragic tale of Kostake, the seraskier’s chief cook, another man who becomes infatuated with a young woman who spurns his attentions. Here and in other sections, the power that men exert in sexual pursuit often results in humiliating, tragic, even fatal outcomes. A deeply pessimistic vein runs through Andric’s writing in this novel.
“Lying” presents a diplomat’s frustration with the devious, narcissistic seraskier, who maintains his dominance by confounding others through routine, blatant lies. The diplomat writes:
“Oh, compared to him, what are the liars of the world? Nothing. Dilettantes, unskilled novices, half-schooled pupils and apprentices. He lies with the inevitability of natural phenomena, he lies the way the wind blows, a dog barks, a cock crows; he lies because he can do nothing else. He was granted the gift of lying by nature, the way others have perfect pitch or a fine voice. “
Overall, a marvelous, marvelous novel! Why is Andric not better known?