Доба на кожата

by Dubravka Ugrešić

Книжевноста, политиката, културата на секојдневјето и сопствените сеќавања и искуства совршено се испреплетуваат во есеите на Дубравка Угрешиќ. Може ли кожата да послужи како уметничко дело, што се случува со доселениците на Запад, каква е улогата на уметноста и на книжевноста и како тоа темата за чистиот хрватски воздух секогаш е актуелна?

Во овие шеснаесет есеи Дубравка Угрешиќ со горчлив хумор и многу културолошки референции, секогаш покажувајќи ги сите лица на најопасното животно на светот – човекот – се обидува да го сфати денешниот свет и ги преиспитува своите и нашите соништа, среќата и стравовите. Ставот на Евгениј Замјатин дека вистинска книжевност можат да напишат само ретки – „лудаци, пустинци, еретици, сонувачи, бунтовници и скептици“ – го усвоила и Угрешиќ. „Доба на кожата“ нè тера и самите да зачекориме на почвата по која одат ретките.

Genres: Essays, Nonfiction, Short Stories, Memoir, Ebooks, 21st Century, Social Commentary

Unknown Binding

First published May 1, 2019

About the author

Dubravka Ugrešić was a Yugoslav, Croatian and Dutch writer. She left Croatia in 1993 and was based in Amsterdam since 1996. She described herself as "post-Yugoslav, transnational, or, even more precisely, postnational writer".

Dubravka Ugrešić earned her degrees in Comparative Literature, Russian Language and Literature at the University of Zagreb, and worked for twenty years at the Institute for Theory of Literature at Zagreb University, successfully pursuing parallel careers as a writer and a literary scholar.

She started writing professionally with screenplays for children’s television programs, as an undergraduate. In 1971 she published her first book for children Mali plamen, which was awarded a prestigious Croatian literary prize for children’s literature. Ugresic published two more books (Filip i Srecica, 1976; Kucni duhovi, 1988), and then gave up writing for children.

As a literary scholar Dubravka Ugrešić was particularly interested in Russian avant-garde culture. She was a co-editor of the international scholarly project Pojmovnik ruske avangarde, (A Glossary of the Russian Avangarde) for many years. She rediscovered forgotten Russian writers such as Konstantin Vaginov and Leonid Dobychin, and published a book on Russian contemporary fiction (Nova ruska proza, 1980). She translated fiction into Croatian from Russian (Boris Pilnyak, Gola godina; Daniil Kharms, Nule i nistice), and edited anthologies of both Russian contemporary and avant-garde writing (Pljuska u ruci, 1989).

Dubravka Ugrešić was best known in the former Yugoslavia for her fiction, novels and short stories: Poza za prozu, 1978; Stefica Cvek u raljama zivota, 1981; Zivot je bajka, 1983; Forsiranje romana reke, 1988.

Her novel Forsiranje romana reke was given the coveted NIN-award for the best novel of the year: Ugrešić was the first woman to receive this honor.
Croatian film director Rajko Grlic made a film U raljama zivota (1984) based on Ugrešić’s short novel Stefica Cvek u raljama zivota. Ugrešić co-authored the screenplay, as she did with screenplays for two other movies and a TV drama.

In 1991, when the war broke out in the former Yugoslavia, Ugrešić took a firm anti-nationalistic stand and consequently an anti-war stand. She started to write critically about nationalism (both Croatian and Serbian), the stupidity and criminality of war, and soon became a target of the nationalistically charged media, officials, politicians, fellow writers and anonymous citizens. She was proclaimed a “traitor”, a “public enemy” and a “witch” in Croatia, ostracized and exposed to harsh and persistent media harassment. She left her country of origin in 1993.

Dubravka Ugrešić continued writing since she began living abroad. She published novels (Muzej bezuvjetne predaje, Ministarstvo boli) and books of essays (Americki fikcionar, Kultura lazi, Zabranjeno citanje, Nikog nema doma).

Her books have been translated into more then twenty languages. Dubravka Ugrešić has received several major European literary awards. In 2016, Ugrešić won the Neustadt International Prize for Literature.

On March 17th of 2023, one of Europe's most distinctive essayists, Dubravka Ugrešić, died in Amsterdam at the age of 73.

Reviews

[Margarita Garova · Rating 4 out of 5]

Понякога обичам да чета размислите на умни хора, директно и есеистично поднесени, без да се налага да ги изстъргвам от някой роман. Разбира се, ще стигна и до художествените произведения на Дубравка Угрешич, просто есетата ми бяха под ръка.

Не съм сигурна, че есетата ми разкриха напълно що за писател е Угрешич, но поне разбрах защо е силно недолюбвана от „своите“ и защо отказва да се идентифицира като „хърватска писателка“. Когато интелектуалец-изгнанник критикува постюгославския патриотизъм и шовинизъм, балканския мачизъм и мизогиния, криминалния произход на хърватския политически елит, е цяло чудо, че е още жив на тоя свят.

Неприятното е, че и приликите с родната действителност не са малко, доколкото у всички неуверени, комплексирани и неосъзнати нации клокочи опасен исторически ревизионизъм, припомняне на „славното минало“, възкресяване на никога несъществували митични обреди и обичаи, преработка на символи и личности за конюнктурна употреба.

Горчивината и горчилката излизат на талази от есетата. Обговарят теми, пред които не малка (да се надяваме) част от европейците примигват сащисано – популизъм, неофашизъм, медийната лъжа, модерното грабителство, тиранията на социалните мрежи, новият вид нарцистичен ексхибиционизъм, съвременната култура на консенсуса/отричането. Феминистките разсъждения бяха много точни. Тонът е разбираемо песимистичен, историческите и културни паралели са неочаквани. Безспорно, остър, полемичен и саркастично настроен интелект. Може би напомня на уводните редакторски статии от времената, когато медиите бяха живи. По нещо ми заприлича на Георги Господинов и Олга Токарчук – може би в интроспекциите, които са навсякъде.

Личи си, че сегашният хаос, в който е потънал света, я огорчава и тревожи дълбоко. Но вероятно така са се усещали хората и през 1917 г. и през 1939 г. – краят на света наближава всяка година.

Цялостно, неравномерно читателско преживяване, но със запазено любопитство за още от авторката.

„Аз съм мрачно, градско създание и щастливите ми мигове наистина са редки.“

„Мизогинията е стандартна форма на поведение в балканските страни. Тя е толкова нормална, толкова дълбока, толкова присъща и толкова очевидна, че никой (дори нейните носители и нейните жертви) не я забелязва“.

„Днес живеем в порядъчна, но безстрастна културна среда, от която изчезнаха опасните, неспокойни и смутни форми на художествен живот: индивидуалното мислене, въображението, искреността, интуицията, полемиката, бунтарските (наистина бунтарски) художествени жестове, автентичността, устояването, метежността, готовността за поемане на риск…“

3,5 звезди

[João Reis · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Age of Skin, by Dubravka Ugrešić. Translated by Ellen Elias-Bursać.

Dubravka Ugrešić is a fabulous writer: intelligent, sarcastic, funny. Her descriptions are terrific and she has the talent to weave pop culture with intellectual knowledge, creating a non-hermetic, fluid text that is both serious and hilarious. “The Age of Skin” comprises several essays written from 2013 to 2018. D. Ugrešić points her finger to corruption, political and moral decay, stupidity, misogyny, violence, capitalism, and many other hidden or not-so-hidden world issues. A must-read book. Some quotes:

“Where does this strange, totally indefensible hypocrisy spring from, this hypocrisy surfacing in people’s behavior and motivating and shaping the culture of our times, this culture which, if we were to dub it a culture of consensus, we wouldn’t be far off? Does this come from fear?”

“The culture of consensus is a product of a powerful marketplace.”

“And having no clue is, indeed, the foundation on which the culture of consensus stands.”

“We have not succumbed to a mere detail of fashion, we have deliberately embraced a brand-new, powerful, profound form of hypocrisy. We are participants, creators and consumers of the modern culture of consensus. (…) We live today surrounded by an orderly but also unexciting cultural environment from which the dangerous, disturbing forms of cultural life have all but disappeared: individual opinion, imagination, sincerity, intuition, polemics, subversive (genuinely subversive) artistic gestures, authenticity, stamina, rebellion, embrace of personal risk (…) Literature today (if we’re speaking of literature) in the hands of the “diligent and reliable clerks,” the muscle-bound jotters of countless pages, the canny negotiators and self-promoters, the authors who believe their literary efforts to be healing, only because their books sell like the holy host.”

“How can we believe that it is only taste ruling our literary-aesthetic criteria and not something else? Is not the purchase of a book that millions of other readers have bought before us the same thing as dumping a bucket of cold water onto our heads? In both cases we have no clue why we do it, but we are prepared to defend our choice to the death.”

“Stupidity reigns and won’t give us room to breathe. When somebody complains, stupidity kicks up a huge fuss and looses its shrieks from thousands and thousands of righteous throats. The din is unbearable.”

“The little guy was left nameless and condemned to be an everlasting statistic. (…) Technology has empowered him, our former statistic, to finally take center stage. Did not he, this worm in human form, also come into the world to leave his mark?! And sure enough, the little guys have raced to leave their mark, developing in the process voracious appetites: some of them strip naked and bare their posterior, others their genitalia, some sing, others write, some dance, others paint, while some are multiplexes and do all of this at once. The little guy has finally conquered the media.”

“The big guy is trying ever harder to catch the little guy’s attention. And those who truly rule the world can finally kick back and rest, because today every Narcissus on planet Earth can afford a mirror. Spurred by the urge to be heard, seen, and remembered, the little guy is ready for everything except a return to anonymity. Once awoken, the hunger is so powerful that nothing will satisfy it.”

“Participants in the carnival in the pre-digital ages wore masks, today everyone does their level best to show his own face.”

“They are having fun, really having a blast, the only thing is there’s nobody around who’d dare turn down the blaring music (…). And all the world looks like a beach party, bare-naked bodies chanting Gorky’s man, how proud it sounds, that everything is cool, couldn’t be cooler, the party will last till the liberated bodies are stilled by that inevitable shovelful of dirt.”

“And when the victims are many, there’s no place for them in human hearts of average emotional capacity. It bears remembering that in this society of ours, rooted in an overweening happiness, empathy has been jettisoned. Everyone is preoccupied with their own life, their own little existence. And as long as people stare obsessively at their reflection on the smooth screen, there will be no room for the lives of others, there is simply no room.”

“There aren’t many animal species on Earth that devour their own kind. Rats, in this regard, are the masters: if they lose a food source, they eat their closest kin. So do people. If you’ve recently experienced people jostling you on the sidewalk, or snarling something nasty at you; or if someone walking by yanks the gold chain off your neck, or if people who used to be friends and acquaintances stop answering your emails; or if you can no longer count on the promises you’re given(…) If your neighbor’s ten-year-old kid spat in your face while the two of you were taking the elevator, don’t worry, this is no figment of your imagination, yes, it’s really happening, you aren’t paranoid, the ten-year-old kid did spit in your face. But don’t take it to heart. Don’t take it personally. Because all this isn’t happening just to you, it’s happening to everyone, people have trouble talking about it, the humiliation is far too widespread, so why acknowledge the little slights, though, to be frank, they’re the ones that hurt the most.”

“Where did I go wrong, a friend of mine asked, an astrophysicist. He was left jobless, and scrolled through his computer to find something, anything, to make ends meet. There before him on the computer screen loomed Kim Kardashian’s large, oiled butt. The butt wasn’t moving, it watched my friend like a meteorite, a glacier, a star … Kim Kardashian’s butt came jumping off every website, the world over, wherever he clicked. My friend realized this butt was the final greeting from a civilization breathing its last, and he relaxed. The Kardashian meteorite came slowly closer, in another second it would crash into Earth and shatter into a million bits. Where have I gone wrong, asked the astrophysicist with the last vestiges of his brain.”

“For years I have been dwelling in an empire of stupidity. Stupidity has become, over time, far too burdensome for me. I am finding it difficult to breathe under its weight and cannot shake free of it. I tried for a while with laughter, and, to be sure, that helped. But now stupidity has barged in, made itself at home, and soaked up all the oxygen. A quarter century ago, stupidity grabbed the microphone, gleeful with self-confidence, and hogged center stage. There is no hope that it will be relinquishing its position any time soon.”

[Emiliya Bozhilova · Rating 4 out of 5]

Странни са ми понякога тези източноевропейски интелектуалци от по-ново време, като Токарчук и Угрешич. Отличен стил, мрак и пълна разпиляност.

Угрешич има обаче едно решително предимство в моите очи - истинска, елегантна ирония. И жестока, безжалостно-честна непримиримост. Насмешка над ракиените патриоти, балканските или източноевропейските мъжкари (повтарящи рефрена “не останаха вече мъже!”), кръчмарския “интелектуален” живот и “оправяне” на света, стресираното късогледство и задоволено или мизерствашо невежество на днешния ден, приемствеността на злото - тенденциите, изложили мумията Ленин за широката публика, все така дебнат наоколо, дегизирани под най-разнообразни форми, включая забогателите “патриоти” от Югославската война, начело с Франьо Туджман, чиито паметници никнат наляво-надясно, вместо да бъдат изправени пред съда за военни престъпления и геноцид. Емигрантите също са част от пейзажа.

Проблемът е, че като затворя последната страница на всяко есе, моментално забравям темата. Всичко е толкова много “част от пейзажа”, особено балканския, че не мога да се закача за нищо отличително, освен за някои любопитни хърватски специфики, но те са между другото. Липсва ми фокус, саркастичното отчаяние за сметка на това изобилства. Сигурно е адски интелектуално, но от един момент нататък просто ме дразни. Друг е въпросът, че Угрешич е права за доста неща и всички вият в хор, но никой не си изхвърля собствения боклук където трябва. Както и че светската, антирелигиозна, хуманистична (а не шовинистично-патриотарска), индивидуална, бунтарска, критично-скептична, феминистка позиция не се приема особено добре - нито в авторитарното минало, нито в дигиталното настояще. И все пак, оттук нататък - какво? Четем или пишем есета и плачем?

⭐️Оказа се запомнящ се послевкус този прочит - вдигам оценката на 3,5 звезди и закръглям нагоре⭐️

***
📖 Цитати:
🇭🇷 🇧🇦 🌐 “Тя всъщност е убедена, че Тито има заслуги за еманципацията на жените в Югославия, понеже е свалил хиджабите на мюсюлманките. Днес нейната правнучка носи хиджаб и упреква баба си за нейното “еманципирано минало”.”

🇷🇸 ✝️ “В хърватските болници има повече кръстове по стените, отколкото запаси от инжекции… благодарение на църковната pro-life пропаганда вече пета обществена болница в Хърватия отказва да извърши аборти.”

🌐 “Днес живеем в порядъчна, но безстрастна културна среда, от която изчезнаха опасните, неспокойни и смутни форми на художествения живот: индивидуалното мислене, въображението, искреността, интуицията, полемиката, бунтарските (наистина бунтарски) художествени жестове, автентичността, устояването, метежността, готовността за поемане на риск… Според знаменитста фраза на Евгений Замятин (в писмото му до Сталин) само безумци, самотници, еретици, мечтатели, бунтари и скептици създават “истинска литература”.”

🌐 “Пазарът укроти културата на авангардния отпор, като я комерсиализира, като комерсиализира Сталин и сталинизма. Така екзекуторът и неговите жертви се оказаха на една и съща сергия.”

🎭 “По-възрастна съм от тях и зная, че под една повърхност лежи втора, под втората - трета…”

🇭🇷 🇧🇬 🇷🇸 🇧🇦 “Твърдоглав, сприхав, невежа, слуга при нужда, разрушител, когато е възможно, убиец, когато му се удаде случай, изнасилвач, когато никой не вижда, той е този, който винаги има право…”

🌐 “С какво е привлекателен фашизмът и многобройните му разновидности, които днес се просмукват в Европа…? Привлекателността му се състои в това, че за него няма нужда от квалификация… в приемането, в насилието, което една група върши над друга, в лесно внушеното чувство, че сме по-добри от другите…”

🌐 “Свещеното Едно е убежище на неграмотните.”

🇭🇷🇧🇬🌐 “Софофобията в страх от знание и учене. У много свои сънародници забелязвам апатия, летаргия, очебийна липса на любознателност, използване на стереотипи, отказ да се чуе каквото и да е, което излиза извън познатите рамки.”

[Sve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Колкото повече чета Дубравка Угрешич, толкова повече харесвам тази жена заради смелостта й именно като жена да се изправи на голямата литературна сцена 'барабар Петко с мъжете', да каже неудобни истини и да очертае с безпощадни краски проблемите в съвременното ни общество.
В този сборник има разнообразие от текстове - за безгласната роля на жените в историята, литературата и обществото, за хората съществуващи в единия край на Европа, но истински живеещи в родината си, където обаче вече 'няма нищо', защото всичко е заличено. Престъпниците са вече звезди, творци, чието 'творчество'е безкритично прието от културата на консенсуса (в есето 'La la хора' най-сетне разбирам защо всички български книги, за които се пишат ревюта са 'шедьоври' :) ).
Светът, в който всеки е звезда в собственото си егоцентрично шоу, е едно тъжно място, с все по-малко емпатия (Кой има време да се занимава с другите, когато е зает да документира собственото си ежедневие?). Всеки опит да бъдем запомнени, да си докажем, че сме били, споделяйки бясно в социалните мрежи, ни приближава към забравата.
И въпреки, че чертае доста мрачната картина на настоящето, Угрешич не губи надежда, че и още съществуват хора, които отказват да се пуснат по течението, продължават да дълбаят зад лустрото на привидното, да задават въпроси и да се съпротивляват. И именно тези хора крепят (както винаги са го правили) крехкия баланс на човешкото.

[Brendan Monroe · Rating 4 out of 5]

You may have noticed that nationalism has been on the rise for the last few years, resulting in the election of absolute morons from sea to shining sea.

But there's something funny about nationalism — it's idiotic. Ditto nationalism's more socially acceptable, though no less inane, cousin, patriotism. It seems that many — the MAGA crowd comes to mind — don't quite understand that you don't choose where you're born. One key difference between the 'Merica worshipping, gun toting crowd of Trump harpies and the illegal alien doing odd jobs to feed his or her family is luck. Luck and, for the immigrant, will and determination. While I was born here, others had to actively choose to come here, many risking life and limb in order to do so.

George Bernard Shaw put it best when he said, "Patriotism is, fundamentally, a conviction that a particular country is the best in the world because you were born in it."

I think about this when certain Americans scream at athletes from the comfort of their couch for kneeling during the national anthem, or when, faced with protesters who believe that healthcare is a universal right and that not just anyone should have access to a gun, the same crowd furiously spews, "This is America. Love it or leave it."

Having pride in your country's accomplishments is similarly bizarre. When you read about the great deeds done by Americans, English, Irish, etc etc, before you were born, does your chest swell with pride?

"I'm proud to be a/an (insert nationality here)" — OK, but why? What part did you play in whatever there is to be proud about? More so, if you take pride in the great things you had no hand in, don't you also have to accept some shame for the bad things that have happened in your country too?

It seems that, in America anyway, Republicans often say that the bad wasn't that bad while simultaneously exaggerating the good. "Celebrate America's Independence Day and pat yourself on the back for being such a patriotic American, and yeah, maybe there was a bit of slavery and a few Native Americans that got massacred along the way, but look at all the happy black people and Native Americans here now!"

Many Democrats, ironically, are on the exact opposite page. "There's little to be proud of, and think how much there is to be ashamed of. Antiracism needs to be taught at an early age in every school so that our children don't grow up merely to be colorblind, because that would be bad, but to understand that if they're white, they're privileged, and if they're black, brown, gay, or transgender, they're victims."

What good does any of that do? How about we do away with this whole nationalistic fever dream, as well as the liberal victimization, and simply highlight the importance of personal responsibility? You're born into this world equal, neither better nor worse than anyone else, regardless of birthplace, race, gender, etc, and you go from there.

All of that is my roundabout way of getting to this essay collection by the Croatian writer Dubravka Ugrešić, the second of hers I've read this year, after "American Fictionary."

Ugrešić reminds me of a Balkan version of Christopher Hitchens in some ways, and her writing has the same delightful contrariness about it. Like Hitchens, she doesn't shy away from greeting society's sacred cows with a sledgehammer.

But she is very much her own person, and both her gender and her nationality figure heavily in these essays. Whether she's writing on misogyny (like in her essay "L'ecriture Masculine") or the Balkan War (which she references in the majority of these essays), she is always ruthlessly direct when exposing humanity's hypocrisies and absurdities.

Nowhere does this come through clearer than on the topic of nationalism, something Ugrešić would know a bit about given where she originally comes from. One of these essays, "The Scold's Bridle," concerns flag desecration. In many countries, this is a severe crime, and Ugrešić notes that in Croatia, for example, the penalty for desecrating the flag is three years in prison.

In this very same country, which, if you recall, is a member of the European Union, the penalty for rape that results "in the death of the raped person, or serious physical harm, or the person's health is gravely compromised, or the raped female person was thereupon impregnated, the perpetrator shall be sentenced to no less than three years in prison."

Three years. "According to Croatian law," Ugrešić adds, "the perpetrator is to be sentenced for 'desecrating a woman's honor,' (to use the patriarchal phrase) for just as long as one would for desecrating the Croatian flag."

Croatia is not alone in having strict penalties for "flag desecration," either. In France, desecrating the flag will get you five or six months in prison, in Austria, six months, in Turkey and Romania, three years, and in Germany as much as five years.

In Denmark, on the contrary, there's no penalty for desecrating the Danish flag, but desecrating the flags of other countries can get you into serious trouble.

The people of the Faroe Islands, meanwhile, rightly believe that "it is not possible ... to desecrate their flag with words or deeds."

There are less serious subjects that draw Ugrešić's ire here as well, one of which is the 2016 film "La La Land." Ugrešić bemoans the fact that "to stand up and declare in public that La La Land is a bad movie is tantamount to social isolation, another form of suicide."

For the record, I really liked "La La Land," but more than one or two people expressed to me their dislike of it, and I did not socially isolate them for it, but perhaps Ugrešić and I hang in different social circles (although let it be known that I'll vehemently argue with any who speak badly about "Love, Actually").

Ugrešić's anger and frustration over these things, her cynicism, are endearing and make "The Age of Skin" a blisteringly good read.

While occasionally a dark education, it's also a lot of fun.

[Diana Stoyanova · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.45 ⭐

Прекрасни и въздействащи емоционално- интелектуални есета. Дубравка Угрешич реди мислите си плавно, интимно и същевременно информативно, оставяйки осезаема диря. Има смелостта да изразява себе си, вижданията си, позицията си по един скандален като цяло начин за утвърдени в обществото разбирания. Този сборник с есета е един своеобразен фонтан от пъстрота и дързост във всяко едно отношение.

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book of essays as part of my Europe 2021 project, and it also aligns with #exyulit and #Readtheworld21 and #WITmonth - Ugresic left Croatia in 1993 and lives mostly in Amsterdam, and she writes about how the irony of writing about the Balkans is that nobody there wants to publish her because she is seen at best "one who left" and at worst a traitor.

Themes of the essays focus largely on post-Communist ex-Yugoslavia, from pop culture to feminism to the use of human skin as art. There is a fair amount on the legacy of violence and the changes in languages as the smaller nations tried to differentiate themselves, and the plight of people wanting to identify with those spaces but having to go elsewhere for work.

It's clear the author is a journalist as the style is very straightforward rather than creative/lyric style. One essay I found to be pretty fatphobic - is it American fat people who are responsible for climate change, I mean really? The essays are organized chronologically and go almost to 2020.

[jeremy · Rating 5 out of 5]

and when the victims are many, there's no place for them in human hearts of average emotional capacity. it bears remembering that in this society of ours, rooted in an overweening happiness, empathy has been jettisoned. everyone is preoccupied with their own life, their own little existence. and as long as people stare obsessively at their reflection on the smooth screen, there will be no room for the lives of others, there is simply no room.

combining the literary dexterity and underdog-championing of eduardo galeano, a practiced inability to suffer fools a la mr. t, and the irreverence and iconoclasm of a comedian like george carlin, dubravka ugrešić's writing is consistently shrewd, incisive, and vital. funny, frustrated, and forlorn, the essays in her new collection, the age of skin (doba kože), were originally written between 2014 and 2018, seventeen pieces in total. dubravka's mind is a brilliant one and her talent for expounding on a variety of subjects is profound.

and most awful of all, every one of us, as is true of every steady-going, enduring sadomasochistic relationship, has become inured to the daily dose of humiliation. we've lost our voice, words, sight, hearing, and reason in the process; we've dehumanized ourselves. for we, too, the audience, we have "theatricalized," we recognize each other only barely as at a play being put on somewhere else, in a distant realm where people speak another language. hey, aren't they us, we ask, and then, yet again, we forget.

with fervor and flair, dubravka censures and excoriates, calls out and questions, rouses and rejoinders. misogyny, hypocrisy, capitalism, violence, cultural vapidity, political malfeasance, blind consensus, war, the pervasive and abundant stupidity of our current and previous century, dubravka sees it all unadorned and ever clearly. with ample wit (and how!), a critic's eye, and one of the most refined bullshit detectors in all of letters, ugrešić's essays are constantly challenging, thought-provoking, and wonderfully refreshing.

how many more years until she wins the nobel prize?

don't take it personal, we're at war, we have begun to annihilate each other, our supply of food and dignity have been cut off, we're useless. no, it's not that people are being worse to you in particular, this applies to everyone, and they just happended to stumble across you, and the crueler they are, the more unfriendly—the greater their own anxiety. if you think you're sinking, don't take it personal, the people who are preventing you from clinging to the life raft are only on it themselves briefly, because they are better at shoving away the wretches who are drowning, including you. but i tell you, don't worry, soon enough they, too, will find themselves in the cold, dank water, someone else will push them overboard soon enough, unless they're kept on board to serve as food.

*translated from the croatian by ellen elias-bursać (albahari, drndić, et al.)

[Lucas Sierra · Rating 4 out of 5]

La mirada sensible (Reseña, 2022)

(También disponible en: https://cuadernosdeunbibliofago.wordp... )

“Quizá hay que dejarse de tareas vanas, quizá hace tiempo que hemos cumplido con nuestro deber” (23)

A Giorgio Agamben le debemos la definición de lo contemporáneo donde la mirada se detiene en luces y sombras, sin dejarse enceguecer por las primeras ni amedrentar hasta el pánico por las segundas. Escribir para preguntarse por la contemporaneidad necesita ese gesto de contraste y matiz al que ensayistas de toda calidad aspiran, con mayor o menor ahínco, y al que alguna vez algunas voces llegan luego de someter la experiencia al filtro de la palabra para conseguir hilar algún pensamiento. Como ensayista Dubravka Ugresic es más que competente, y los ensayos de La edad de la piel dan cuenta no sólo de esa capacidad de atención a los detalles, sin entusiasmo desmedido y sin espanto, sino también de una amplia gama de intereses, sustentada en la premisa de que todo puede ser interpretado como texto de la vida (una perspectiva semiótica con la que siempre encuentro grato toparme).

Estoica y pesimista, la escritura de Ugresic no deja, sin embargo, de hacer su profesión de fe. Cree en el arte, en la literatura, en las historias. Lo hace sin la brutal candidez de los grafitis que repiten las máximas de mayo del 68. Lo hace con la parquedad de quien prefiere reservarse para sí los hilos de la alegría, a sabiendas de que revelarlos podría arruinar la posibilidad de un tapiz. Proceder así implica que la mayoría de los textos se detienen en señalar el órgano gangrenado, la herida, los gusanos que se van comiendo la podredumbre. Ugresic se niega a jugar a estar ciega ante aspectos como la negación de la memoria de la barbarie tras las guerras, en nombre de una paz que debe mantenerse callando las reparaciones necesarias; se niega a no señalar la caída en los contenidos culturales del mundo actual, la estupidez que pare canales de YouTube y cuentas de Instagram y películas musicales que ganan y pierden óscares; se niega a resignarse a que el papel del pensamiento sea continuar por el cómodo sendero de la vida aburguesada hasta la extinción del planeta o de la especie, lo que ocurra primero.

En esa terquedad de la ensayista está la mirada sensible. Permitir que la realidad nos toque, no que nos atraviese, es un acto de tozudez. La política europea, la cultura global, la escritura reciente: tocada por los temas Ugresic esmera su palabra como un intento de claridad en la sombra, y de sombra en la luz. La clave de su escritura es el contraste. La de su poética una ironía necesaria para cualquiera que quiera pararse ante un espejo sin permitir que le absorba su imagen. En tiempos donde el propio ombligo parece ser la cosa más interesante del mundo, quizás valga la pena sacarse las pelusas y ponerlas bajo un rayo de sol, o admitir, de una vez por todas, que hace años estamos por fuera del útero materno, y que la fragilidad de tener la piel expuesta no tiene que ser tan dramática como hemos asumido.

Mirar para comprender, escribir para comprender, y leer, para perderse. Lean a Ugresic, insisto.

[Ivo Stoyanov · Rating 4 out of 5]

Има много хубави и мъдри мисли .
Всяка епоха ражда своите декадентски "герои" , които властта , масите издигат на пиедестал .

[Juan Carlos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Se trata de una colección de ensayos escritos por la serbocroata Dubravka Ugresic entre los años 2014 y 2018.
La autora se muestra dura con su país de nacimiento, Croacia, especialmente porque ve que el mismo está acogiéndose sin disimulo alguno a su ascendiente ustachi, o sea fascista. Todo lo que ocurre en este pequeño país, desde su fundación en 1995, al finalizar la guerra de los Balcanes, por Tujdman reconociéndose heredero de aquella Croacia libre e independiente que entró en los mapas de la mano de Hitler en 1942, a la escritora, asentada en Amsterdam, le repele.
Dubravka Ugresic es hija de un serbio que luchó contra la ocupación nazi del país y contra los colaboracionistas nazis que allí en Croacia eran los 'ustachi'. Como su padre, ella vio en la Yugoslavia de Tito innegables avances en muchos campos, especialmente en el de la dignidad de la mujer. Esto y otros elementos de esa época que aprueba no quita que sea muy crítica con el padrecito Stalin y su política de provocar hambrunas terribles y perseguir a los enemigos políticos.
Se lamenta muy mucho la ensayista de que los atroces crímenes cometidos durante la "guerra pasada" en ambos bandos hayan quedado en su mayor parte sin perseguir e incluso que los asesinos se hayan visto elevados a responsabilidades de gobierno en ambos países. La política de limpieza étnica que se practicó en plena guerra 1991-1995 ahora en la paz se sigue practicando aunque de manera más sutil: eliminando referentes de uno y otro país que pudieran existir en forma de esculturas, realizando una lectura de la Historia totalmente dispar por unos u otros, e incluso fomentando la belicosidad en estos tiempos de paz a través del deporte: el fútbol y su selección nacional en Croacia, y el tenis en Serbia.
La autora se manifiesta con bastante neutralidad, si bien no puede dejar de atacar el comportamiento de su Croacia, su país de nacimiento, respecto al neoustachismo que va en alza y la política cultural ignorando a cualquier autor de la época yugoslava o a aquellos críticos con el devenir del país. En este último grupo está incluída ella misma.
[leer reseña completa en mi blog: https://elblogdejcgc.blogspot.com/202...]

[Rennie · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 These were extraordinary. I don't think I've read anything that gives this kind of commentary on the states of the former Yugoslavia before. And uses those observations as a lens to define so much of what's going on in the world right now, and some of the darker undercurrents in Europe. A lack of empathy -- that idea runs through these.

I was only a little confused because two or so of them suddenly veered into some kind of fantasy/magical realism at the end and I didn't quite get it. The translation seems very good, but maybe something was lost here, and there was more dark humor to it than I was picking up? I don't know. Otherwise; perfect.

[Isidora · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sve čitam što Dubravka objavi. Ona je deo moje mladosti i podsećanje na jedno nevinije i čistije doba.

[diario_de_um_leitor_pjv · Rating 4 out of 5]

Um conjunto de ensaios desencantados, azedos e críticos da contemporaneidade. Um conjunto de textos instigadores de uma reflexão cada vez mais necessária. Um bom conjunto de aprendizagens sobre os Balcãs, os países da ex Jugoslávia.

Dubravka Ugrešic, neste livro recentemente publicado em Portugal - tradução de Rita Costa - , entitulado "A idade da pele" provoca no leitor o incómodo de como olhar criticamente para o mundo de hoje sem cinicamente nos enfiarmos numa crítica sem fim.

Temáticas como a misoginia, os direitoa sociais e humanos, o trabalho, os refugiados são presenças em diferentes textos. Também a crítica aos mundos da arte, da literatura e da academia está presente em textos como "A idade da pele" ou "L'écriture masculine".

Interessantes as referências a Bohumil Hrabal que, assumo me encantaram. Deixem por isso partlhar convosco a frase final do livro de Dubravka Ugrešic sobre a necessidade de preservar a memória e de a escavar continuamente:
"Nos trinta e cinco anos em que trabalha - Hanta, o protagonista de "uma solidão demasiada ruidosa" - cercado por livros, que são como seres vivos para ele, vive numa "solidão demasiada ruidosa", faz o trabalho de "açougueiro terno" e, como"o céu não é humano", encontra consolo na "compaixão e no amor". Em suma "os manuscritos não estão a arder". Hoje os filhos de hanta são os "arqueólogos" em ascensão, os coleccionadores, os navegadores, os cartógrafos dos mapas de memória, os historiadores, os artistas, os exploradores, os coleccionadores de lembranças, aqueles que reparam os danos, os construtores e reconstrutores, os justos que trabalham com o "lixo" histórico, os educadores, os protectores da verdade, os curadores de museus virtuais, a equipa que trabalha em laboratórios da memória... Graças aos filhos de Hanta, os manuscritosnão ardem. E, quando são lançados na fogueira" os livros mostram o "sorriso silencioso" da resistência."

[Katie (readingwithkt) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought a proof of this for weight cost from a second hand bookshop in Iceland. I know proofs are not to be sold - it says so on the cover - but books are scarce and expensive in Iceland, where I find myself somewhat stranded through coronavirus, and so I bought it without complaint.

I was drawn in by the title: The Age of Skin, and the cover design on the proof where a woman with grey hair faces away from the camera with a cigarette held up in her left hand. She’s wearing a green and black floral top. And she looks like my Grandma. Everything about this cover image just looks exactly like my Grandma. So I bought the book.

The proof comes with no description except quotes from International news and literature sources, such as ‘World Literature Today’ and ‘New York Times’. I don’t know that I’ve ever read anything translated from Croatian, but that was something else I knew going in. So I knew little, but I was so drawn to this book and so curious about it that I had to give it a go. And so I bought the book.

The Age of Skin is a collection of essays from Dubravka Ugresic, a Croatian writer now based in the Netherlands. The collection is wide-reaching and covers a whole range of topics. Topics which particularly drew me in were: consumerism, capitalism, technology, European and International politics. I personally felt that Ugresic had some really interesting and thought-provoking things to say on these topics and I found myself underlining key passages while I read. Though I didn’t agree with all that she argues (and didn’t find her feminist thought particularly groundbreaking), I still found myself thinking about her perspective long after I’d finished reading. I think that’s why it took me so long to make my way through this short collection: there was so much thinking that went on alongside the reading.

I especially liked what Ugresic had to say about immigrants and immigration, and some of her writing really struck me. A month or so ago I read: “Refugees and migrants serve as a mirror, a test, a challenge, a summons to confront our values.” (p81) and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Especially with growing hostility towards migrants across the world, and here I experience it in Iceland, I felt chills reading the essay from which this quote was taken (Invisible Europe), but I also felt comfort and solidarity. So that was certainly a favourite. (Though I would like to acknowledge that a couple of Ugresic’s statements in this essay, in my opinion, erase the lived experiences of Native Americans).

In general, I resonated best with the earlier essays in the collection. The Age of Skin, Slow Down! and Don’t Take it Personal all left me deep in thought and reflection.

If you’re looking for a thought provoking and interesting essay collection, this is one I’d recommend. I’m interested to read some of Ugresic’s fiction and I’ll certainly be looking for more from the translator, Ellen Elias-Bursać, who I thought did a phenomenal job on this collection.

[Madhuri · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a hard one to review. These essays swung wildly between brilliance (which lasted for a short paragraph), to a senseless rant and showing down of people. Everyone on Ugresic’s Croatia is idiot or illiterate, and the repetition of this idiocy became tedious after a while.
The essays are commentary on the world today, the obsession with self, the hatred for the other. They speak through the lens of what’s happening/has happened in Croatia. Sometimes the essays say it eloquently, but most of the time nothing novel is said.
I liked the essay Scold’s bridle - perhaps it appealed to the feminist in me. The essay was focused on how women’s voices have been curtailed or ignored, even as far back as Greek myths. But at times it dawned on me that even Ugresic only wanted to hear her own voice and put bridle on anyone else who has a different thought.

[Preslava Peneva · Rating 5 out of 5]

"От години живея в царството на глупостта. С течение на времето тя стана прекалено тежка, издъхвам под тежестта й, по никакъв начин не мога да я избегна. Някога опитвах със смях — помагаше. Сега глупостта просто пусна корени, завладя цялото пространство и изчерпа всичкия кислород."
Спи спокойно, Дубравка. От ден на ден става по-зле.

[Mariona · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/5. Es curioso como los países que han nacido a raíz de las guerras de los Balcanes se pelean por decir que Nikola Tesla o Ivo Andric son de uno u otro, pero, a la vez, nadie reclama a esta autora. ¿Será porque señala todos sus defectos y males? ¿Por ser mujer? ¿Un poco de todo? Creo que es mi primer ensayo de un autor/a originario de la zona y me ha reafirmado en muchas opiniones que ya tenía después de leer tanto sobre Yugoslavia y, a la vez, ha puesto luz en algunos aspectos que no entendía del todo. En líneas generales es un libro muy completo, aunque también es cierto que en algunos momentos me ha parecido exagerada la actitud tan "cascarrabias" de la autora, si bien se puede llegar a entender al leer sobre su vida, y tampoco he entendido esa yugonolstalgia, al final era un estado totalitario y parece que olvida muchos de sus características negativas. Sin embargo, estoy deseando leer más ensayos de la autora.

[Matthew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sharply written and deeply intelligent, these essays written between 2014 and 2018 focus on the global rise of corruption and populism/nationalism, on being an exile from one's homeland, women's rights, and the rights of the poor and the oppressed worldwide.

Ugresic is such a skillful writer and this is truly thought provoking and affecting stuff, and often ruefully funny. However, don't go into this book expecting much in the way of feel-good optimism, as many of these essays definitely have a cynical edge to them.

[PatriShaw · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unas reflexiones brutales y tremendamente lúcidas sobre el arte, la historia construida y reconstruida, la situación de los Balcanes antes, durante y después de la guerra (que no deja de ofrecer una imagen que es un auténtico puñetazo en pleno estómago). Pero, sobre todo, retazos que dejan entrever la difícil tarea de construcción de la identidad (la nacional y la propia), de las penas que siendo tormento y pregunta nos forman y, en última instancia, un ensayo espectacular sobre el alma y su sitio en un mundo que a veces nos cuesta conocer y reconocer.

[Jarzi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leer a Dubravka supone adentrarse de lleno en la cotidianidad balcánica y yugoslava, en las cosas que no trascienden y no suelen estar escritas en los libros de historia, en aquello que se conoce solo por haber vivido ahí, formar parte de esa sociedad y tener ese contexto (además de tener una gran capacidad reflexiva y crítica).

Dubravka nos hace partícipe a todos nosotros de esa cotidianidad que ella ya no tiene, al tener que exiliarse y al ver cómo su país, Yugoslavia, se desintegra y deja de existir. Sus escritos son como una llamada de auxilio ante la desaparición de su país, de su cotidianidad y de su identidad (pues como deja claro, no se identifica con su nueva "identidad croata"). Sus escritos son un intento de conservar de alguna forma todo aquello que ya no iba a existir más. Qué tristeza y qué gran trabajo.

Me llama la atención la figura de escritora/intelectual de renombre que además de escribir sobre temas muy serios, no se desvincula de la época actual en la que vive y reflexiona de forma ingeniosa y analítica sobre la cultura pop, digamos que intelectualiza la cultura pop. Dubravka es una constante de referencias culturales de todo tipo, habla de las guerras yugoslavas con una seriedad y tragedia absoluta, del mismo modo que también analiza el fenómeno cinematográfico de La La Land. Dubravka puede explayarse de igual forma sobre un libro que recoge el número de personas que se han suicidado por la crisis del 2008 como del desastre del primer embalsamiento de Lenin o del culo de Nicki Minaj y el problema de la presión estética. Dubravka puede explicar la importancia de los balnearios en los balcanes, o las colas como espacio de socialización de antiguos ciudadanos soviéticos como de las lujosísimas tumbas de los gitanos y la paradoja de su integración en la sociedad cuando están en el cementerio.

No obstante, aunque el libro sea una colección de distintos ensayos escritos entre 2014 y 2018, todos tienen en común un pesimismo de fondo, sea cual sea la temática. También aflora ese humor político tan mordaz y satírico al mismo tiempo que trata de forma sensible temas espinosos... La autora siempre sabe cómo encajarlo todo, cómo conectar, vincular y cerrar los ensayos de forma inteligente, y siempre se mantiene por encima de cualqueir dogma. De sus escritos se desprende mucha independencia política, el no adscribirse a nadie y no fiarse de nadie.

Cuando leo sus ensayos me impone, las cosas están muy claras, no tiene por qué ser pedagógica, no tiene por qué ser humilde. Dubravka transmite su vida (de forma ficcional o no), su exilio y la tragedia de la guerra sin responder ante nadie y sin contentar a nadie. No hay humildad, hay terquedad, pesimismo y crudeza, y quién soy yo para decir algo sobre eso.

[natura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Recopilatorio de ensayos y artículos publicados por la autora en los más diversos medios: revistas literarias y periódicos estadounidenses, webs serbias, periódicos suizos, holandeses, polacos… En un recorrido sobre los diversos temas actuales que le preocupan, Ugrešić disecciona, analiza, recuerda y se duele de unas sociedades que están dejando de lado las ganas de rebelarse y luchar en cualquier frente posible (político, artístico, social) para plegarse al ritmo imposible que nos dicta la vertiginosa tecnología y el deseo de dinero y poder. Tanto sus reflexiones feministas, como artísticas, o las que hace como exiliada de un país en guerra que sigue desolado en mil sentidos, están llenas de recuerdos, de sentido común, y de muchas ganas de no dejar que las cosas que están mal se queden así: abusos, asesinatos, violencia en general.
Es un auténtico disfrute seguirla por la historia de sus contradicciones y desencuentros, de sus guerras y sus convicciones. Un soplo de cordura y buen hacer en medio del caos que nos envuelve y que, muchas veces, hemos asimilado sin protestar porque ¿pa qué?

[Navya · Rating 4 out of 5]

Between 4 and 4.5 stars

The essays are sharp, well-written and extremely timely. I enjoyed the sheer range of topics and cultural artefacts Ugresic turned her eye on, and the insights she drew from them. I also enjoyed her writing, which was both lyrical and biting in turn (and sometimes simultaneously).

There were a few points where I felt the author was a bit dismissive, as a result of which the essays got a bit of old-person-yells-at-cloud feel. But these moments were few and far between, and even then Ugresic's exceptional writing made it informative and engaging.

[Nataša · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pronicljivi, pretresljivi, fantastično zapisani eseji, ki so neverjetno pogumna in tudi boleča analiza stanja (tudi naše) družbe. Brez dlake na jeziku, z ravno prav popra in občasnimi razbremenitvami vzdušja pri branju z ironičnim humorjem.

[Marija Plavcic · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kao netko tko je tek krenuo u školu kad je počeo rat, bilo je iznimno zanimljivo čitati ovu zbirku eseja. Nisam bila toliko mala da nisam znala što se događa, a opet ni dovoljno odrasla da vidim sve nijanse između crne i bijele kako je moj dječji mozak doživljavao rat. Preporučila bih ovu zbirku eseja, kao i Lisicu koju trenutno čitam, svima u sličnoj situaciji. Naučit će jako puno o svojoj državi i najvažnijem povijesnom događaju (rat, postratno razdoblje).

Naravno, Ugresic ne pripovijeda samo o ratu, tu su razne teme, od književnost i umjetnosti do društvenih događanja, migracija na europskoj i svjetskoj razini itd.

[Can Lejarraga · Rating 4 out of 5]

vaya maravilla!!! ha sido una lectura muy parsimonica pero porque el libro te invita a ello... cada ensayo no mantiene una coherencia clara entre uno y otro, pero ugrešić te mantiene unida a sus ideas, opiniones y gustos a lo largo de todo el libro. es el equivalente a pasear por un sendero de paisaje decorado: te paras a mirar de vez en cuando el alrededor pero sigues avanzando con ganas de llegar al final

[Tjaša · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ugrešić's writing on balkan politics is better than her pop culture takes. My favourite: There is nothing here!

[Luis Le drac · Rating 4 out of 5]

Podríamos decir que “La edad de la piel” es un libro escrito por alguien que ha leído mucho a Mafalda. Ugrešić ha mutado en el personaje de Quino para gritar en estas hojas un “¡Paren el mundo que me quiero bajar! Al igual que la argentina, Ugrešić, con su estilete, retrata en la piel de los europeos un perfil de la nueva Europa de principios de siglo XXI. Ni que decir tiene que se exige de la ironía y el humor para llevar una crítica muy ácida hacia el devenir de un mundo en caída permanente. Si Ugrešić estuviera viva ya estaría repitiendo que “esto ya te lo decía yo”.

Este libro, escrito con una agudeza y desde la posición de unas lentes progresivas, se compone de una serie de ensayos que fueron publicados en diferentes revistas tanto europeas como norteamericanas. Se derivan de ellos varios temas: el auge de los populismos, del neofascismo -ella habla de la posdemocracia- (ains, desde donde nos esté viendo Ugrešić…), el feminismo, las redes sociales y, en definitiva, la caída de un mundo de ilusiones, sueños y esperanzas tras el fin del mundo soviético. Pero no penséis que estamos ante un texto sesudo. Es un conjunto de ensayos muy bien construidos, reforzados con hormigón armado, pero también con humor. ¡Esta Ugrešić es una cachonda! Y ya os he dicho que Ugrešić tiene mucho de Mafalda, porque ambas comparten una mirada lúcida, crítica e irónica del mundo contemporáneo. Una desmenuza con agudeza la descomposición cultural y política de Europa, mientras que Mafalda cuestiona el absurdo del mundo adulto. Ambas representan una forma de resistencia ética y estética frente a un mundo que parece no haber aprendido de sus errores.

Si me preguntarais si este es un buen libro para comenzar con Dubrabka Ugrešić os diría que no. ¿Por qué? Yo he leído, con este, tres en un periodo muy corto. Los anteriores plantean una visión más próxima al problema sobre el que gira gran parte de su obra. La alienación tras la desintegración de su país, del que ella consideraba su país. El drama de la huida, del dejar atrás y abandonar una realidad que creía propia y verídica. En este libro, esa huella no ha desaparecido, pero se agranda. Se amplía con nuevos temas. Es un libro más actual. Son ensayos recopilados entre 2014-2018. Los valores se han minado y han desaparecido. La cultura popular ha aborregado a la ciudadanía. Ved que todo es muy actual. Que catalizó sus impresiones que hoy en día se han convertido en desgraciadas realidades. Que este libro nos pudo haber servido de señal de Stop, pero nosotros nos lo saltamos y con dos copas de más. Y como el chiste, aunque maldito chiste “No se preocupe que el coche no es mío: es robado”. Y Por qué, maldita sea, no hicimos caso a estas mentes lúcidas. Y por qué nos encontramos donde estamos. De nuevo, Mafalda aparece para cerrar esta reseña con una de sus frases muy convenientes para este texto: “El problema de las mentes cerradas es que siempre tienen la boca abierta”. Y yo añadiría que a aquellos que tienen una mente preclara, nosotros se la cerramos.

Aunque ahora que lo pienso, me desdigo. Se puede comenzar también por este libro. Da igual ejercer una fuerza centrípeta o centrífuga. De una visión más cercana a otra más cosmopolita o al revés. Lo importante es que esa incomodidad, esa mirada desde el ángulo corto que tiene Ugrešič, la tengamos también nosotros presente.

[Paulus Voerman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Het tijdperk van de huid. - Dubravka Ugrešić (1949) – Nijgh & Van Ditmar 2019

Ik ontdekte Ugrešić in 2017 in de Groene Amsterdammer en was meteen verkocht. Ik las haar boeken met stijgende bewondering. Ook deze zeventien essays (uit 2014 tot 2018) zijn weer prachtig en doorwrocht. Luisterrijke klaagzangen, schitterende aanklachten, kostelijke filippica's [en als ik haar niet eerder had gelezen zou mijn score absoluut hoger zijn dan nu. Want hoe treffend ze de gekte ook omschrijft, toch werd ik soms wat moe, mogelijk een lichte overdosis, vooral bij de wat oudere essays.]

Het kan Ugrešić niet vaak genoeg gezegd worden: Overal in Kroatië wemelt het van de vroegere vrachtwagenchauffeurs, generaals, dieven, moordenaars, politici, bedriegers, burgemeesters en criminelen met vervalste universitaire diploma's en eredoctoraten (125) en (...) zijn veel mensen actief om de misdadigers uit de Tweede Wereldoorlog en die van de jaren negentig zalig te verklaren. (223)
Gelukkig is ze niet verstoken van zelfkennis: Natuurlijk bekijk ik de dingen met een post-Joegoslavische blik. (…) Ik hoop dat de mensen (…) me mijn geopolitieke bekrompenheid niet kwalijk zullen nemen. (43)

En het zijn voornamelijk mannen die het moeten ontgelden. Het stempel van de man is dominant en autoritair, dat van een vrouw is in mineur, bijna 'illegaal' en antiautoritair; dat van een man volgt de canon, dat van een vrouw zet zich daartegen af. (…) Mannen kiezen voor Viagra, En vrouwen? Voor plastische chirurgie. (71) Toch krijgt ook de schrijfster Heleen van Rooyen er ongemeen van langs. Die liet op een tentoonstelling haar selfies, vibrators, ondergoed en meer zulke kunstvoorwerpen zien en ze liet zelfs een foto van haar vagina met touwtje rondgaan hetgeen als een 'dappere en grensverleggende actie' werd gekenschetst. (72)

Nieuw voor mij is het bestaan van het Nederlands Uitvaart Museum bij de Nieuwe Ooster begraafplaats (10 minuten fietsen). In essay 12 'Zigeunergeluk' (ook de naam van een Mercedes limousine) doet ze verslag van haar bezoek en over het aldaar aangetroffen eerste deel van The Complete Lexicon of Crisis Related Suicides 2008-2013 – Vol. 1. Ik ga het beslist een dezer dagen bezoeken om mij net als Ugrešić te verwonderen over o.a. de weelderige zigeuner grafmonumenten. (144-145)

Want inmiddels weet ik dat de vele honderdduizenden vluchtelingen die bij de Europese landen aankloppen niet hun land verlieten, maar door hun land werden verlaten.(97)

Waar ik me van harte in kan vinden: Ik ben niet gelovig, en daarmee behoor ik tot een haast verwaarloosbaar kleine minderheid van de wereldbevolking. Toch is er één ding dat ik wel geloof, ook al bestaat daarvoor geen enkel bewijs: dat deze aarde de beste van alle mogelijke werelden is. (89)

[celia · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars

normalmente me digno a escribir todas mis reseñas en inglés, pero de vez en cuando hay una excepción que surge de una novela que 1) he leído en español, 2) me ha conmovido.

durante todos los ensayos, sentí que la autora se dirigía a mí personalmente. percibía el ápice de furia, de rensentimiento apagado, olvidado por los años pero no dormido, latente en la prosa de dubravka que se intenta remitir al analizar el valor humano de la guerra de los balkanes, de yugoslavia, el poscomunismo y occidente como mediador. todo ello tintado por un gran "que os jodan a todos", dubravka lanza preguntas y algunas respuestas (no tantas como me hubiera gustado), ideas, conclusiones, brutales verdades y algún que otro latigazo que el mundo sigue llevando consigo en la espalda. ha sido una experiencia exhuberante (y no brillante, por ser mala, también), que desde el primer ensayo me llevó a leer paralelamente sobre croacia y serbia, sobre la operación militar tormenta, sobre el papel de estos países antes y después de la segunda guerra mundial. dubravka fue valiente y durante los años en los que escribió los ensayos, añadió un valor humano que le salía desde dentro, un quejido que, aun después de tanto estudio y academia, seguía guardando dentro por mucho que intentase entender. menos verdad, más verdad en sus opiniones, no me importa tanto. ella misma admite lo "subjetiva" que es (obvio). la verdad es que me ha conmovido, y ha revivido mi curiosidad sobre la estupidez de la humanidad. eso ya es un mérito.