What do you think?
Rate this book
Il campo delle pere
Un orfanotrofio alla periferia di Tbilisi nella Georgia postsovietica. Lo chiamano la “scuola dei ritardati”: nato per ragazzi con disabilità intellettiva, è ormai frequentato da orfani e figli di migranti, che vengono cresciuti tra abusi e negligenza. Tra loro c’è Lela, una giovane temprata dalla rabbia che, mentre progetta l’omicidio dell’insegnante di storia, sogna un futuro migliore lontano da lì, oltre il campo delle pere. Quando, ormai maggiorenne, può finalmente fuggire dall’incubo, Lela decide di restare, determinata ad aiutare chi è costretto a rimanere. Come il piccolo Irakli, convinto che la madre emigrata in Grecia tornerà per lui…
224 pages, Paperback
First published May 11, 2015
64 people are currently reading
3077 people want to read
About the author
Nana Ekvtimishvili
1 book47 followersნანა ექვთიმიშვილი სწავლობდა ივანე ჯავახიშვილის სახელობის თბილისის სახელმწიფო უნივერსიტეტის ფილოსოფიის ფაკულტეტზე. დაამთავრა გერმანიის კონრად ვოლფის სახელობის პოტსდამ-ბაბელსბერგის კინოაკადემია. მისი მოთხრობები პირველად დაიბეჭდა ჟურნალ „არილში“ 1999 წელს.
ნანა ექვთიმიშვილმა რამდენიმე მოკლემეტრაჟიან და სრულმეტრაჟიან ფილმებზე მუშაობის შემდეგ, 2012 წელს, რეჟისორ სიმონ გროსთან ერთად გადაიღო ფილმი „გრძელი ნათელი დღეები“, რომელმაც მსოფლოს სხვადასხვა წამყვან კინო ფესტივალებზე გაიმარჯვა; მათ შორის ბერლინის, ჰონკონგის, პარიზის, სარაევოს, ლოს-ანჯელესის და ტოკიოს კინოფესტივალებზე. ფესტივალებზე ფილმმა 30-მდე ჯილდო მოიპოვა.
2013-2014 წლებში ფილმი გამოვიდა სხვადასხვა ქვეყნების კინოთეატრებში: საფრანგეთში, გერმანიაში, დიდ ბრიტანეთში, აშშ-ში, ავსტრალიაში, ბენელუქსისა და ყოფილი იუგოსლავიის ქვეყნებში. იგი იყო საქართველოს კანდიდატი 2014 წლის ოსკარისთვის საუკეთესო უცხოენოვანი ფილმის კატეგორიაში.
2013 წლის ბერლინის საერთაშორისო კინოფესტივალზე „გრძელი ნათელი დღეები“ ახალი ქართული ტალღის მომასწავებლად მიიჩნიეს, ხოლო ჰონკონგის ფესტივალზე ფილმს ქართული კინოს გაზაფხული უწოდეს. კინოკრიტიკოსთა საერთაშორისო გაერთიანება FIPRESCI-მ კი ფილმს ქართული კინემატოგრაფიის ხელახლა აღორძინების ნიმუში უწოდა.
ნანა ექვთიმიშვილმა რამდენიმე მოკლემეტრაჟიან და სრულმეტრაჟიან ფილმებზე მუშაობის შემდეგ, 2012 წელს, რეჟისორ სიმონ გროსთან ერთად გადაიღო ფილმი „გრძელი ნათელი დღეები“, რომელმაც მსოფლოს სხვადასხვა წამყვან კინო ფესტივალებზე გაიმარჯვა; მათ შორის ბერლინის, ჰონკონგის, პარიზის, სარაევოს, ლოს-ანჯელესის და ტოკიოს კინოფესტივალებზე. ფესტივალებზე ფილმმა 30-მდე ჯილდო მოიპოვა.
2013-2014 წლებში ფილმი გამოვიდა სხვადასხვა ქვეყნების კინოთეატრებში: საფრანგეთში, გერმანიაში, დიდ ბრიტანეთში, აშშ-ში, ავსტრალიაში, ბენელუქსისა და ყოფილი იუგოსლავიის ქვეყნებში. იგი იყო საქართველოს კანდიდატი 2014 წლის ოსკარისთვის საუკეთესო უცხოენოვანი ფილმის კატეგორიაში.
2013 წლის ბერლინის საერთაშორისო კინოფესტივალზე „გრძელი ნათელი დღეები“ ახალი ქართული ტალღის მომასწავებლად მიიჩნიეს, ხოლო ჰონკონგის ფესტივალზე ფილმს ქართული კინოს გაზაფხული უწოდეს. კინოკრიტიკოსთა საერთაშორისო გაერთიანება FIPRESCI-მ კი ფილმს ქართული კინემატოგრაფიის ხელახლა აღორძინების ნიმუში უწოდა.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 321 reviews
January 25, 2023
Longlisted for the International Bookerprize 2021 - a pendant to the fellow nominated Summer Brother of Jaap Robben in a sense
An orphanage in Tbilisi is the setting of this inert, rather sad novel
A lot of names come back in the early chapters of the book, and even though someone literally dies in the first part, I felt the book was rather meandering and slice of life.
Heavy themes as child abuse and general hardships in post Soviet Union Georgia come back, intertwined with some warmth and sense of community.
Lela, the gradually emerging central character, is tough but also genuinely tries to help Irakli, a nine year old who might end up getting a better future.
Children being abandoned, parents being untruthful, the uncomfortable price of love and the privilege of adoption from abroad; it’s all great source material but doesn’t make this book very exceptional in the end and the conclusion with seemingly not much changing for the better is bitter, but kind of predictable.
An orphanage in Tbilisi is the setting of this inert, rather sad novel
A lot of names come back in the early chapters of the book, and even though someone literally dies in the first part, I felt the book was rather meandering and slice of life.
Heavy themes as child abuse and general hardships in post Soviet Union Georgia come back, intertwined with some warmth and sense of community.
Lela, the gradually emerging central character, is tough but also genuinely tries to help Irakli, a nine year old who might end up getting a better future.
Children being abandoned, parents being untruthful, the uncomfortable price of love and the privilege of adoption from abroad; it’s all great source material but doesn’t make this book very exceptional in the end and the conclusion with seemingly not much changing for the better is bitter, but kind of predictable.
April 13, 2021
OF PEARS AND MEN
Rating The Pear Field (2015) is a tough nut because I am struggling with a disproportion between high importance of social issues Nana Ekvtimishvili addresses in this novel – for example violence against women, education of kids with special needs, pedophilia, child abandonment, international adoption, poverty – and literary value of this book, which in my opinion, is not very high. The thing I missed the most was originality. Despite the setting – I think it was the first Georgian novel that I have ever read – almost everything else seemed familiar.
The technique Nana Ekvtimishvili uses – raw realism plus simplicity of the language – worked well here but it made me wonder: did the author think that the story she wanted to tell was so strong that it would carry on its wings everything? Speaking of realism, be warned that the pedophilic sex scenes are quite explicit. I literally felt sick.
The book is cinematographic, which did not surprise me much, as Nana Ekvtimishvili is also a film director. It is both strength and weakness: some moments are truly unforgettable, for example the airport scene, but on the other hand, I would prefer more detailed portrayals of the children. They sort of blend with the background.
If you imagine Georgia as a picturesque land of hospitable people, as the author puts it sarcastically: magical fairy-tale country, and you want to stick to your vision, stay away from this book. Tbilisi Nana Ekvtimishvili depicts in The Pear Field is a depressing place and most men there are aggressive creeps.
I liked the way the author addresses international adoption: it is much more complex than a corny tearjerker we might imagine. The book’s asset is also the symbolic pear field – the deformed trees growing on a swamp next to the dormitory, bearing awful, inedible fruit, resemble kids from Residential School for Intellectually Disabled Children or, as the locals call it, the School for Idiots. A pear can also be seen as an erotic symbol, connected with femininity, which makes sense given what happens in this field to girls and what the children associate it with. Besides, in art pears symbolize good health, happiness and prosperity which might be a bitterly ironical allusion to Lela and her friends. Not much health, happiness and prosperity in their lives.
...And a partridge in a pear tree: who knows, maybe I would have liked The Pear Field more, if I had not read Minor Detail the day before. This novel by Adania Shibli is a living proof that traumatic things can be told in a unique and fresh way. It empowers the impact of the book. I found The Pear Field heart-wrenching and engrossing. Sad beyond words. Unfortunately, it did not give me a breathtaking feeling of immersion in beauty, despite horrid events in the novel. Minor Detail did.
All paintings by Samuel Bak.
Rating The Pear Field (2015) is a tough nut because I am struggling with a disproportion between high importance of social issues Nana Ekvtimishvili addresses in this novel – for example violence against women, education of kids with special needs, pedophilia, child abandonment, international adoption, poverty – and literary value of this book, which in my opinion, is not very high. The thing I missed the most was originality. Despite the setting – I think it was the first Georgian novel that I have ever read – almost everything else seemed familiar.
The technique Nana Ekvtimishvili uses – raw realism plus simplicity of the language – worked well here but it made me wonder: did the author think that the story she wanted to tell was so strong that it would carry on its wings everything? Speaking of realism, be warned that the pedophilic sex scenes are quite explicit. I literally felt sick.
The book is cinematographic, which did not surprise me much, as Nana Ekvtimishvili is also a film director. It is both strength and weakness: some moments are truly unforgettable, for example the airport scene, but on the other hand, I would prefer more detailed portrayals of the children. They sort of blend with the background.
If you imagine Georgia as a picturesque land of hospitable people, as the author puts it sarcastically: magical fairy-tale country, and you want to stick to your vision, stay away from this book. Tbilisi Nana Ekvtimishvili depicts in The Pear Field is a depressing place and most men there are aggressive creeps.
I liked the way the author addresses international adoption: it is much more complex than a corny tearjerker we might imagine. The book’s asset is also the symbolic pear field – the deformed trees growing on a swamp next to the dormitory, bearing awful, inedible fruit, resemble kids from Residential School for Intellectually Disabled Children or, as the locals call it, the School for Idiots. A pear can also be seen as an erotic symbol, connected with femininity, which makes sense given what happens in this field to girls and what the children associate it with. Besides, in art pears symbolize good health, happiness and prosperity which might be a bitterly ironical allusion to Lela and her friends. Not much health, happiness and prosperity in their lives.
...And a partridge in a pear tree: who knows, maybe I would have liked The Pear Field more, if I had not read Minor Detail the day before. This novel by Adania Shibli is a living proof that traumatic things can be told in a unique and fresh way. It empowers the impact of the book. I found The Pear Field heart-wrenching and engrossing. Sad beyond words. Unfortunately, it did not give me a breathtaking feeling of immersion in beauty, despite horrid events in the novel. Minor Detail did.
All paintings by Samuel Bak.
April 11, 2021
I read this book due to its longlisting for the 2021 International Booker Prize> It is published by Peirene Press
From their own website: “Peirene Press is an award-winning boutique publishing house, specialising in high-quality first-translations of contemporary European novellas. We only publish books of less than 200 pages that can be read in the same time it takes to watch a film."
And this book is the debut novel of an award winning Georgian screenwriter and film director.
It is perhaps not surprising therefore that this book has, at times, something of the flavour of an the pre-script for arthouse movie – with use of the present tense, a first party narrator who acts as something like a camera for us to view the other characters, the other characters are rather bewildering array at time and perhaps harder to differentiate and keep track of in print than they would be on film (it is not even easy for example to distinguish always teachers from neighbours from older pupils from children) and with some cinematic set scenes (an opening scene of a clandestine trampoline escapade which you know will have which becomes something of a recurring motiv and provides the rather inevitable last scene; two contrasting Georgian weddings; a raid on a cherry orchard; an airport scene which is set up nicely in advance).
And if I am being honest this made the book not entirely to my taste (I would read 3 times more books in a typical week than I would watch films in a year).
However another thing to say on Peirene Press – is that in a small press industry which sometimes seems to be full of keyboard warriors in an echo chamber: Peirene and its founder Meike Ziervogel throw themselves into real and practical social activism via donations (50 p per book to a charity of the year), fundraising (for good causes and not for their own cause), their publishing (deliberately commissioning books addressing social issues) and their actions (with the founder spending lenghy time in a refugee camp).
And this also fits what I most enjoyed about the book.
In its coverage of the neglect of a group of backward (and in some cases simply unwanted) children in a “Residential School for the Intellectually Disabled”, the bonds they form, the impact the traumas inflicted on them have on their characters, the way they look up to children that “graduate” to something of a better life: all makes this a memorable and heartbreaking book giving a voice to a group largely denied one by an uncaring world around them.
Overall I think this has a real chance of making the shortlist – not least as it shares some themes with a couple of other longlisted books – “Summer Brother” and the most powerful stories in “The Danger of Smoking in Bed”.
From their own website: “Peirene Press is an award-winning boutique publishing house, specialising in high-quality first-translations of contemporary European novellas. We only publish books of less than 200 pages that can be read in the same time it takes to watch a film."
And this book is the debut novel of an award winning Georgian screenwriter and film director.
It is perhaps not surprising therefore that this book has, at times, something of the flavour of an the pre-script for arthouse movie – with use of the present tense, a first party narrator who acts as something like a camera for us to view the other characters, the other characters are rather bewildering array at time and perhaps harder to differentiate and keep track of in print than they would be on film (it is not even easy for example to distinguish always teachers from neighbours from older pupils from children) and with some cinematic set scenes (an opening scene of a clandestine trampoline escapade which you know will have which becomes something of a recurring motiv and provides the rather inevitable last scene; two contrasting Georgian weddings; a raid on a cherry orchard; an airport scene which is set up nicely in advance).
And if I am being honest this made the book not entirely to my taste (I would read 3 times more books in a typical week than I would watch films in a year).
However another thing to say on Peirene Press – is that in a small press industry which sometimes seems to be full of keyboard warriors in an echo chamber: Peirene and its founder Meike Ziervogel throw themselves into real and practical social activism via donations (50 p per book to a charity of the year), fundraising (for good causes and not for their own cause), their publishing (deliberately commissioning books addressing social issues) and their actions (with the founder spending lenghy time in a refugee camp).
And this also fits what I most enjoyed about the book.
In its coverage of the neglect of a group of backward (and in some cases simply unwanted) children in a “Residential School for the Intellectually Disabled”, the bonds they form, the impact the traumas inflicted on them have on their characters, the way they look up to children that “graduate” to something of a better life: all makes this a memorable and heartbreaking book giving a voice to a group largely denied one by an uncaring world around them.
Overall I think this has a real chance of making the shortlist – not least as it shares some themes with a couple of other longlisted books – “Summer Brother” and the most powerful stories in “The Danger of Smoking in Bed”.
June 29, 2022
Pirmoji pažintis su Sakartvelo literatūra, neabejoju, gana ilgam įsirėžusi į atmintį. Joje kalbama apie žmones užribiuose – ne tik vadinamosios „Idiotų mokyklos“ vaikus, bet ir visą juos supantį pasaulį, kuris tarsi burbulas, iš kurio ištrūkti atrodo neįmanoma, o kartais net neteisinga.
Pradėjusi knygą svarsčiau, kad galbūt ji galėtų būti dar tamsesnė ir kapstyti giliau tiek vaikų kasdienybėje, tiek apskritai toje purvinoje ir siaubingoje aplinkoje, kurioje vyksta veiksmas. Bet galiausiai suvokiau, kad tamsos ir purvo aplinkui ir taip labai daug, o autorės būdą papasakoti apie Idiotų mokyklą labiau per tarpusavio santykį, humorą ir jautrumą galiausiai pateisinau ir jis man netgi ėmė atrodyti tinkamesnis. Nes iš pirmo žvilgsnio tiek vaikų poelgiai, tiek pokalbiai, tiek juos prižiūrintis personalas atrodo nekalti, bet stabtelėjus ir susimąsčius pats skaitytojas gali sau atsakyti į labai daug klausimų bei svarstyti apie tai, kas lieka tarp eilučių ir ką galbūt net per sunku sudėti į žodžius ant popieriaus lapo.
Įdomu buvo pažinti ir Sakartvelą, kuris čia itin autentiškas su savo skoniais, kvapais ir peizažais, ir kūrinio veikėjus, kurie, nepaisant savo trūkumų, silpnybių ir kartais keliamo pykčio, visgi yra be proto tikri. Vaikai čia nėra per daug išmintingi, kaip kartais nutinka knygose, suaugę toli gražu ne visažiniai, ir nors skaitant knygą siaubingai trokšti, kad visų jų gyvenimas pasisuktų į gerąją pusę, kažkur giliai žinai, kad tam tikri žmonės paprasčiausiai nežino, kaip gyventi kitaip.
Stiprus savo subtilumu ir nemelodramatizavimu kūrinys, nenuklystantis į ilgus verkšlenimus ir melancholiją, o išliekantis tikras, autentiškas, sugebantis net tamsiausiomis akimirkomis įžvelgti viltį ir tam tikrą ironiją.
Pradėjusi knygą svarsčiau, kad galbūt ji galėtų būti dar tamsesnė ir kapstyti giliau tiek vaikų kasdienybėje, tiek apskritai toje purvinoje ir siaubingoje aplinkoje, kurioje vyksta veiksmas. Bet galiausiai suvokiau, kad tamsos ir purvo aplinkui ir taip labai daug, o autorės būdą papasakoti apie Idiotų mokyklą labiau per tarpusavio santykį, humorą ir jautrumą galiausiai pateisinau ir jis man netgi ėmė atrodyti tinkamesnis. Nes iš pirmo žvilgsnio tiek vaikų poelgiai, tiek pokalbiai, tiek juos prižiūrintis personalas atrodo nekalti, bet stabtelėjus ir susimąsčius pats skaitytojas gali sau atsakyti į labai daug klausimų bei svarstyti apie tai, kas lieka tarp eilučių ir ką galbūt net per sunku sudėti į žodžius ant popieriaus lapo.
Įdomu buvo pažinti ir Sakartvelą, kuris čia itin autentiškas su savo skoniais, kvapais ir peizažais, ir kūrinio veikėjus, kurie, nepaisant savo trūkumų, silpnybių ir kartais keliamo pykčio, visgi yra be proto tikri. Vaikai čia nėra per daug išmintingi, kaip kartais nutinka knygose, suaugę toli gražu ne visažiniai, ir nors skaitant knygą siaubingai trokšti, kad visų jų gyvenimas pasisuktų į gerąją pusę, kažkur giliai žinai, kad tam tikri žmonės paprasčiausiai nežino, kaip gyventi kitaip.
Stiprus savo subtilumu ir nemelodramatizavimu kūrinys, nenuklystantis į ilgus verkšlenimus ir melancholiją, o išliekantis tikras, autentiškas, sugebantis net tamsiausiomis akimirkomis įžvelgti viltį ir tam tikrą ironiją.
March 30, 2021
Now longlisted for the 2021 International Booker
The Pear Field is the latest, beautifully produced, novel from the excellent independent Peirene Press, part of the 2020 Closed Universe Series, and is translated by Elizabeth Highway from Nana Ekvtimishvili’s 2015 Georgian original მსხლების მინდორი.
The novel is set in a Residential School for Intellectually Disabled Children on the outskirts of Tbilisi. The setting is fictitious but the inspiration comes from Ekvtimishvili’s childhood. The author has said in interviews (http://book.gov.ge/en/book/the-pear-t...) that she grew up next to a boarding school, and played with the children there, listening to some, in retrospect, quite shocking stories:
When Georgian novels were featured at the 2018 Frankfurt Book Fair, a report at the time (https://www.dw.com/en/frankfurt-book-...) further expanded this that: “the author played with these children, and remembers them talking about a ritual in a pear orchard, where newcomer girls were raped by the other children,” and added that the author was prompted to write the novel when, 20 years later, she came across some of these former playmates begging in the streets.
In the novel, the school, known as the School for Idiots by the local townspeople, is, in the post-Soviet era, also a dumping ground for children abandoned by their parents, and indeed those the state cannot accommodate elsewhere.
The story is told from the perspective of Leta, aged 18. She has been at the school almost as far as she can remember and has actually been old enough to leave for 3 years, but with nowhere to go had stayed on, and has a status somewhere between a member of staff and a leader of the other children, who range from 6 to 15.
She is so institutionalised that she recognises each area of the school by its own distinctive smell:
On every floor there are toilets at the end of the corridor. The wind blowing in through the broken windowpanes carries their stench deeper into the building, making the entire corridor smell like a station toilet. The bedrooms, TV room and playrooms have their own smell, and no amount of fresh air can flush it out. It's the smell of dirty children, or sometimes of clothes scrubbed clean with laundry soap; the smell of musty linen and hand-me-down bedding; the smell of paraffin lamps and, in winter, wood stoves: the smell of old armchairs and sticky tape covering cracks in the windows and Chinese mallow plants lined up on the sill. Leta knows each and every smell, even though sometimes they all disappear behind the acrid stench of the toilet.
Within the grounds is the pear field of the novel’s title but this is far from idyllic and stands as a symbol for the moral decay in the school, itself a reflection of wider society, as well as being used (at least before Leta became the senior pupil) for an rape based initiation ceremony for new girls:
Between the wash block and the dormitories there’s a wide green field covered in small pear trees. Everyone, young and old, stays well away. The trees produce pears every year without fail and everyone stays away from them too, for the lovely green field is permanently mired in water … at first glance, the water seeping up through the soil is barely visible. The field looks so enticing, especially to new arrivals at the school, who run out on to the field and then slow involuntarily, ominously, as their feet sink into the waterlogged soil, So the pear trees just stand there with their knotted trunks and tangle of low-hanging branches, alone and forsaken, and every spring they bring forth large shiny green pears which nobody touches.
The novel, although only 157 pages long, introduces us to a rich cast of characters, pupils, staff and some of the locals who live nearby (as well as some delicious sounding descriptions of Georgian cuisine when the school is used to host wedding feats). The main narrative tension comes from Lela’s twin aims before she will finally go out into the wider world:
I’m going to kill Vamo before winter, Lela thinks to herself. It’s summer now. Plenty of time. Iralkli’s leaving in September and once he’s gone, I’ll kill Vano. By the end of the winter. After that it might be too late. He’s so old he might just die, all by himself…
Lela can’t bear the thought. She vows to herself Vano will not have a natural death.
Vano is the deputy head and history teacher, who abuses the younger girls, including Lela herself many years ago, and Irakli, a 9 year old boy, of whom Lela is very protective. Irakli’s mother is always going to visit him ‘next week’, which of course never arrives, and eventually moves to Greece as an economic migrant. But then a photographer arrives at the school to prepare profiles of the children for an American couple keen to adopt one, and Lela seizes the chance to support Irakli’s case.
Nana Ekvtimishvili is perhaps better known as an internationally acclaimed film director (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nana_Ek...) and there is a definite cinematic quality to the text – one that fits well with Peirene’s ethos – “We only publish books of less than 200 pages that can be read in the same time it takes to watch a film” – with its diverse case (at times a little too extensive for my taste, as only a few of the characters are really developed) and told in a relentless present tense.
Overall – a beautifully described and paced story although perhaps a little too cinematic for me. 3.5 stars - 3 for personal taste but I book I would still recommend.
The Pear Field is the latest, beautifully produced, novel from the excellent independent Peirene Press, part of the 2020 Closed Universe Series, and is translated by Elizabeth Highway from Nana Ekvtimishvili’s 2015 Georgian original მსხლების მინდორი.
The novel is set in a Residential School for Intellectually Disabled Children on the outskirts of Tbilisi. The setting is fictitious but the inspiration comes from Ekvtimishvili’s childhood. The author has said in interviews (http://book.gov.ge/en/book/the-pear-t...) that she grew up next to a boarding school, and played with the children there, listening to some, in retrospect, quite shocking stories:
I am amazed how I then calmly listened to them, or how one could co-exist with violations, when next to you such things were happening. Nobody ever believed anything these children said, and if they said that anything like that had happened to them, violence or rape, or if they had stolen cherries from the next-door garden, that made no great difference at the time, and nobody paid any attention. Now I am amazed, and I don’t know what to think, I simply knew all this, people somehow accepted this background of general violence, and it didn’t seem to be any great tragedy.
When Georgian novels were featured at the 2018 Frankfurt Book Fair, a report at the time (https://www.dw.com/en/frankfurt-book-...) further expanded this that: “the author played with these children, and remembers them talking about a ritual in a pear orchard, where newcomer girls were raped by the other children,” and added that the author was prompted to write the novel when, 20 years later, she came across some of these former playmates begging in the streets.
In the novel, the school, known as the School for Idiots by the local townspeople, is, in the post-Soviet era, also a dumping ground for children abandoned by their parents, and indeed those the state cannot accommodate elsewhere.
The story is told from the perspective of Leta, aged 18. She has been at the school almost as far as she can remember and has actually been old enough to leave for 3 years, but with nowhere to go had stayed on, and has a status somewhere between a member of staff and a leader of the other children, who range from 6 to 15.
She is so institutionalised that she recognises each area of the school by its own distinctive smell:
On every floor there are toilets at the end of the corridor. The wind blowing in through the broken windowpanes carries their stench deeper into the building, making the entire corridor smell like a station toilet. The bedrooms, TV room and playrooms have their own smell, and no amount of fresh air can flush it out. It's the smell of dirty children, or sometimes of clothes scrubbed clean with laundry soap; the smell of musty linen and hand-me-down bedding; the smell of paraffin lamps and, in winter, wood stoves: the smell of old armchairs and sticky tape covering cracks in the windows and Chinese mallow plants lined up on the sill. Leta knows each and every smell, even though sometimes they all disappear behind the acrid stench of the toilet.
Within the grounds is the pear field of the novel’s title but this is far from idyllic and stands as a symbol for the moral decay in the school, itself a reflection of wider society, as well as being used (at least before Leta became the senior pupil) for an rape based initiation ceremony for new girls:
Between the wash block and the dormitories there’s a wide green field covered in small pear trees. Everyone, young and old, stays well away. The trees produce pears every year without fail and everyone stays away from them too, for the lovely green field is permanently mired in water … at first glance, the water seeping up through the soil is barely visible. The field looks so enticing, especially to new arrivals at the school, who run out on to the field and then slow involuntarily, ominously, as their feet sink into the waterlogged soil, So the pear trees just stand there with their knotted trunks and tangle of low-hanging branches, alone and forsaken, and every spring they bring forth large shiny green pears which nobody touches.
The novel, although only 157 pages long, introduces us to a rich cast of characters, pupils, staff and some of the locals who live nearby (as well as some delicious sounding descriptions of Georgian cuisine when the school is used to host wedding feats). The main narrative tension comes from Lela’s twin aims before she will finally go out into the wider world:
I’m going to kill Vamo before winter, Lela thinks to herself. It’s summer now. Plenty of time. Iralkli’s leaving in September and once he’s gone, I’ll kill Vano. By the end of the winter. After that it might be too late. He’s so old he might just die, all by himself…
Lela can’t bear the thought. She vows to herself Vano will not have a natural death.
Vano is the deputy head and history teacher, who abuses the younger girls, including Lela herself many years ago, and Irakli, a 9 year old boy, of whom Lela is very protective. Irakli’s mother is always going to visit him ‘next week’, which of course never arrives, and eventually moves to Greece as an economic migrant. But then a photographer arrives at the school to prepare profiles of the children for an American couple keen to adopt one, and Lela seizes the chance to support Irakli’s case.
Nana Ekvtimishvili is perhaps better known as an internationally acclaimed film director (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nana_Ek...) and there is a definite cinematic quality to the text – one that fits well with Peirene’s ethos – “We only publish books of less than 200 pages that can be read in the same time it takes to watch a film” – with its diverse case (at times a little too extensive for my taste, as only a few of the characters are really developed) and told in a relentless present tense.
Overall – a beautifully described and paced story although perhaps a little too cinematic for me. 3.5 stars - 3 for personal taste but I book I would still recommend.
April 4, 2021
One of my favourite novels from last year was Nino Haratischvili's epic “The Eighth Life” which follows multiple generations of a family from the country of Georgia. So it was fascinating to read a much more self-contained story from this nation with Nana Ekvtimishvili's “The Pear Field”. This is set in a Residential School for Intellectually Disabled Children on the outskirts of Tbilisi which is understaffed and the slim amount of government funding it receives is mostly filched by the management. Having no knowledge about the family who left her there when she was young, 18-year old former-pupil Lela still lives and works at the school. She used to be fearful and regularly abused but now she's older, more confident and sees the corruption of the administrators more clearly. Irakli is a sweet boy who is half her age and he longs for the return of a mother who keeps promising she's take him back but disappoints him week after week. Lela wants to help him escape the school and the country before settling a score and leaving this dysfunctional institution herself.
This story is a finely-rendered realistic portrait of a community of children who only survive through their own ingenuity and resilience. Read my full review of The Pear Field by Nana Ekvtimishvili on LonesomeReader
This story is a finely-rendered realistic portrait of a community of children who only survive through their own ingenuity and resilience. Read my full review of The Pear Field by Nana Ekvtimishvili on LonesomeReader
April 19, 2021
The Pear Field is a book which almost demands to be read in one sitting, and I don't mean that as a compliment; this is one of those books that names every minor character who's as much as mentioned one single time, and it's so much to keep track of that it's a more efficient use of your time as a reader to read it all at once rather than coming back to it and having to figure out who everyone is all over again. That said, that was really my only complaint in a book that I otherwise quite enjoyed.
The Pear Field follows Lela, an eighteen-year-old girl who works at a boarding school for poor, intellectually disabled, and/or unwanted children, who becomes obsessed with the idea of an American family adopting Irakli, a nine-year-old student she's quite protective over. This book is a stark and gritty portrait of a group of students on the fringes of Georgian society; I found it moving and eye-opening but skillfully not emotionally manipulative, given its difficult subject matter. Definitely worth reading.
Huge trigger warnings for sexual assault of a minor.
The Pear Field follows Lela, an eighteen-year-old girl who works at a boarding school for poor, intellectually disabled, and/or unwanted children, who becomes obsessed with the idea of an American family adopting Irakli, a nine-year-old student she's quite protective over. This book is a stark and gritty portrait of a group of students on the fringes of Georgian society; I found it moving and eye-opening but skillfully not emotionally manipulative, given its difficult subject matter. Definitely worth reading.
Huge trigger warnings for sexual assault of a minor.
March 31, 2023
"Kriaušių laukas: neturistinė kelionė į Sakartvelą.<...>Tai atviras žvilgsnis į dalelę Sakartvelo praeities, sąžiningas, nuoširdus ir neapgaudinėjantis."("Vertėjos žodis")
Apie vaikų namus, kurie dar vadinti Idiotų namais, nes dauguma vaikų su raidos atsilikimu. Iš tikrųjų liūdna ir graudu buvo skaityti, labai gaila skriaudžiamų ir nemylimų vaikų. Pavaizduota tokia realybė, prieš kurią norisi tik užsimerkti ir apsimesti, kad to nėra, negali būti.. Gerų emocijų ar mėgavimosi labai mažai, bet kai kurios knygos ir yra ne tam, kad pasimėgauti ar patirti malonumą skaitant, o kad supažindintų su tuo, kas vyko, nušviestų praeities skaudulius ir pagelbėtų suprasti dabartį. Tai čia būtent tokia knyga, smigo giliai.
Apie vaikų namus, kurie dar vadinti Idiotų namais, nes dauguma vaikų su raidos atsilikimu. Iš tikrųjų liūdna ir graudu buvo skaityti, labai gaila skriaudžiamų ir nemylimų vaikų. Pavaizduota tokia realybė, prieš kurią norisi tik užsimerkti ir apsimesti, kad to nėra, negali būti.. Gerų emocijų ar mėgavimosi labai mažai, bet kai kurios knygos ir yra ne tam, kad pasimėgauti ar patirti malonumą skaitant, o kad supažindintų su tuo, kas vyko, nušviestų praeities skaudulius ir pagelbėtų suprasti dabartį. Tai čia būtent tokia knyga, smigo giliai.
September 5, 2023
5* bet nelabai, greičiau 4*
Puikus stilius, labai kinematografiškas romanas, lakoniškai, bet vaizdingai ir emocingai pasakoja autorė apie "idiotų mokyklos" vaikų kasdienybę. Prievarta yra kasdienybė, cigaretės yra kasdienybė, nemeilė yra kasdienybė ir visame tame užsisklendusių giliai viduje vaikų, kuriems pašykštėjo meilės desperatiški bandymai išgyventi bet kokia kaina.
Viskas tobulai papasakota, scenas kone mačiau skaitydama, ta nuolat patiriama prievarta ir žvilgsnis iš šalies, tarsi ne su tavim tai vyktų, nes taip lengviau.
Paskojimas, lyg filmo scenarijus pateiktas romano formatu. Viskas būtų gerai, bet kartais taip jautėsi tie dramatiški perspaudimai, kas labai jaudintų ekrane ir verstų raudoti tūkstančius žiūrovų ( arba bent jau suspausti kumščius), lyg būtų tyčia sudėlioti įvykiai tokia seka kur baisu, baisiau ir pagaliau dar baisiau arba baisiausia. Man pasirodė kiek netikra ir gerą istorija pavirto į apgalvotą scenarijų, siekiantį festivalinių įvertinimų, bet ne daugiau.
Gal todėl tie herojų veiksmai skaitant buvo lengvai nuspėjami, nes taip bus įspūdingiau ir gerai atrodys ekrane.
Čia tik mano nuomonė. esu kinomanė, filmas būtų ( o gal ir bus?) stiprus, bet specialiai ekranui sukurto pasakojimo dėka.
Ech, kažkada sakė, kad Sakartvele nėra nei vaikų nei senelių namų... Viskas tebuvo mitas?..
Lelos paveikslas man priminė Kasią K, toks pats intuityvus suaugusiųjų pasaulio pažinimas, bandant prisitaikyti ir apsimetant, kad prievarta- tai nieko baisaus, kad galima apsimesti, jog jos nebuvo.. Tik čia, žinoma, stipriau viskas ir nėra atsakymų, kur eiti toliau...
Tas kriaušių laukas turi labai daug spalvu, bet perskaičius man liko daugiausia geltonai pilkos...
Puikus stilius, labai kinematografiškas romanas, lakoniškai, bet vaizdingai ir emocingai pasakoja autorė apie "idiotų mokyklos" vaikų kasdienybę. Prievarta yra kasdienybė, cigaretės yra kasdienybė, nemeilė yra kasdienybė ir visame tame užsisklendusių giliai viduje vaikų, kuriems pašykštėjo meilės desperatiški bandymai išgyventi bet kokia kaina.
Viskas tobulai papasakota, scenas kone mačiau skaitydama, ta nuolat patiriama prievarta ir žvilgsnis iš šalies, tarsi ne su tavim tai vyktų, nes taip lengviau.
Paskojimas, lyg filmo scenarijus pateiktas romano formatu. Viskas būtų gerai, bet kartais taip jautėsi tie dramatiški perspaudimai, kas labai jaudintų ekrane ir verstų raudoti tūkstančius žiūrovų ( arba bent jau suspausti kumščius), lyg būtų tyčia sudėlioti įvykiai tokia seka kur baisu, baisiau ir pagaliau dar baisiau arba baisiausia. Man pasirodė kiek netikra ir gerą istorija pavirto į apgalvotą scenarijų, siekiantį festivalinių įvertinimų, bet ne daugiau.
Gal todėl tie herojų veiksmai skaitant buvo lengvai nuspėjami, nes taip bus įspūdingiau ir gerai atrodys ekrane.
Čia tik mano nuomonė. esu kinomanė, filmas būtų ( o gal ir bus?) stiprus, bet specialiai ekranui sukurto pasakojimo dėka.
Ech, kažkada sakė, kad Sakartvele nėra nei vaikų nei senelių namų... Viskas tebuvo mitas?..
Lelos paveikslas man priminė Kasią K, toks pats intuityvus suaugusiųjų pasaulio pažinimas, bandant prisitaikyti ir apsimetant, kad prievarta- tai nieko baisaus, kad galima apsimesti, jog jos nebuvo.. Tik čia, žinoma, stipriau viskas ir nėra atsakymų, kur eiti toliau...
Tas kriaušių laukas turi labai daug spalvu, bet perskaičius man liko daugiausia geltonai pilkos...
October 15, 2022
Kažkada kažkur (greičiausiai internete) teko ar girdėti, ar skaityti, kad Sakartvele vaikų namų nėra, nes ten kiekvienu vaiku pasirūpina giminės, kaimynai, draugai ar dar kas nors. Graži pasaka, kaip ir toji apie vieną Afrikos (Pietų Amerikos?) gentį, kur visi ratu apstoja prisidirbusį jos narį ir primena jam visus gerus jo darbus (ar tiesiog gerus žodžius sako, aš nebeatsimenu).
O realybė tokia, kad Sakartvele, kaip ir bet kurioje šalyje, turėjusioje "laimės" pakliūti į broliškos Sovietų Rusijos glėbį, buvo ne tik vaikų namai, bet ir protiškai atsilikusių vaikų namai, kurie nesugriuvo sugriuvus Sovietų sąjungai, ir kurių gyvenimas XX a. pab. buvo ne vien vaikiškas. Beskaitydama aš kartais pamiršdavau, kurioje šalyje čia viskas vyksta, nes visai drąsiai tas pats galėjo vykti ir Lietuvoje, tik vardai ir valgių pavadinimai kiti būtų. Aš manau, kad čia geriausia šios knygos dalis - atpažįstamumas ir išnykstanti distancija, kai nebeišeina dyvytis, kaip ten pas juos viskas buvo, ir tenka pripažinti, kas čia ir mūsų istorija, ir mes savo šalyje turime vaikų, už kuriuos niekas nekovojo, ir todėl jiems teko vienu ar kitu būdu kovoti už save ir vienas kitą.
O realybė tokia, kad Sakartvele, kaip ir bet kurioje šalyje, turėjusioje "laimės" pakliūti į broliškos Sovietų Rusijos glėbį, buvo ne tik vaikų namai, bet ir protiškai atsilikusių vaikų namai, kurie nesugriuvo sugriuvus Sovietų sąjungai, ir kurių gyvenimas XX a. pab. buvo ne vien vaikiškas. Beskaitydama aš kartais pamiršdavau, kurioje šalyje čia viskas vyksta, nes visai drąsiai tas pats galėjo vykti ir Lietuvoje, tik vardai ir valgių pavadinimai kiti būtų. Aš manau, kad čia geriausia šios knygos dalis - atpažįstamumas ir išnykstanti distancija, kai nebeišeina dyvytis, kaip ten pas juos viskas buvo, ir tenka pripažinti, kas čia ir mūsų istorija, ir mes savo šalyje turime vaikų, už kuriuos niekas nekovojo, ir todėl jiems teko vienu ar kitu būdu kovoti už save ir vienas kitą.
June 16, 2022
2021 Uluslararası Booker Ödülü’nün uzun listesinde yer alan ‘Armut Bahçesi’ne bayıldım. Soluksuz okudum. Dört dörtlük bir romandı. Gürcü yazar Nana Ekvtimishvili’nin romanı sert, çarpıcı ve bir o kadar da buruk bir şekilde yüz gülümseten cinsten. Tiflis’teki bir zihinsel engelli çocuklar okulunda geçen hikâyeyi yazar öyle bir kaleme almış ki asla dramatize etmemiş, daha da önemlisi özellikle sonlara doğru mizahi dozlar ekleyerek müthiş bir denge yakalamış. Romanın adının neden ‘Armut Bahçesi’ olarak seçildiğini ise son sayfada anlıyorsunuz. Gitme/gidememe hali, intikam ve dostluk üzerine bol diyaloglu, kolay okunsa da edebi değeri yüksek bir roman ‘Armut Bahçesi’. İyi ki elim gitmiş. Beklentimin çok üstünde çıktı. Yılın en güzel sürprizlerinden biri oldu.
November 5, 2020
The Pear Field is the last book in Peirene Press’ Closed Universe series (for the uninitiated Peirene Press publish 3 books a year with a loose theme in mind) and it could well be my favourite from this publisher.
The setting is The School of Intellectually Disabled Children which is located in Georgia. An institute where children who are abandoned by their parents are sent. The narrator is Lela, a resident who, legally, could leave but doesn’t. Really the only source of freedom, if the child is under legal age, is when there is a call for adoption or the parent (considering the circumstances) wants the child back. Finally a U.S. couple want to adopt one of the children and Lela campaigns for one of the boys to leave.
Honestly plot is not that important in The Pear Field. I saw the book as a character study. How the different children interact with each other. In some cases this can be disturbing, with one particular initiation rite coming to mind or the role of the pear tree in the narrative. In some cases it can be endearing, such as Lela’s ‘quest’
The book is also about societal change; the communist and post communist Georgia. According to Lela, Georgia’s independence led to a change in attitudes, especially in the running of the school and the types of teachers who would pass through it’s doors.
There’s a lot pitch black humor here peppered by some tragic moments. I guess one could say that the school a metaphor for life, with it’s ups and downs? One could also say that The Pear Field is a book about breaking free. For a such a short book, there’s quite a bit to pick apart.
Once again Peirene Press have managed to come up finding hidden gems and giving them flowing translations so us readers can have a snapshot of a country. As I stated The Pear Field may be one of their stand outs.
The setting is The School of Intellectually Disabled Children which is located in Georgia. An institute where children who are abandoned by their parents are sent. The narrator is Lela, a resident who, legally, could leave but doesn’t. Really the only source of freedom, if the child is under legal age, is when there is a call for adoption or the parent (considering the circumstances) wants the child back. Finally a U.S. couple want to adopt one of the children and Lela campaigns for one of the boys to leave.
Honestly plot is not that important in The Pear Field. I saw the book as a character study. How the different children interact with each other. In some cases this can be disturbing, with one particular initiation rite coming to mind or the role of the pear tree in the narrative. In some cases it can be endearing, such as Lela’s ‘quest’
The book is also about societal change; the communist and post communist Georgia. According to Lela, Georgia’s independence led to a change in attitudes, especially in the running of the school and the types of teachers who would pass through it’s doors.
There’s a lot pitch black humor here peppered by some tragic moments. I guess one could say that the school a metaphor for life, with it’s ups and downs? One could also say that The Pear Field is a book about breaking free. For a such a short book, there’s quite a bit to pick apart.
Once again Peirene Press have managed to come up finding hidden gems and giving them flowing translations so us readers can have a snapshot of a country. As I stated The Pear Field may be one of their stand outs.
Read
November 14, 2021Finally got around to a full review of this! I discuss why certain bleak books feel more readable to me than others, share some post-Soviet context that I hope is useful, and generally blather on about violence and adoption and the dynamics of "othering" within marginalized groups.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2i44...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2i44...
February 10, 2024
Entre o bloco dos lavabos e o dos dormitórios, há um enorme terreno ocupado por um pomar onde predominam pequenas pereiras. (...) Dão peras todos os anos, sem falhar, mas ninguém se aproxima delas, pois aquele lindo campo verdejante está sempre atolado de água. (...) E as pereiras ali permanecem, com os seus troncos nodosos e o emaranhado de ramos baixos, sozinhas e abandonadas, e todas as primaveras dão peras verdes grandes e lustrosas em que ninguém toca. As peras raramente amadurecem antes de o tempo ficar frio e, por isso, são duras como pedras; as que chegam a amadurecer nunca ficam doces (…)
O pomar e as peras simbolizam o país e a instituição.
A história desenrola-se no Colégio Interno para Crianças com Deficiência Intelectual, ou, como os habitantes locais o chamam, a Escola dos Idiotas, em Tbilisi, na rua Kerch. As crianças da instituição, além de negligenciadas, são também abusadas física e sexualmente.
Lela, com 18 anos, pode sair da escola, mas não tem para onde ir. Antes de abandonar a escola, tem uma missão: matar Vano, o professor de História. Lela é uma verdadeira “mãe galinha”, cuidando especialmente de Irakli, um menino abandonado pela mãe, e que posteriormente um casal americano tenta adoptar.
Este é um romance triste, comovente e que nos apresenta o lado mais sombrio de um país .
75/198 – Geórgia
O pomar e as peras simbolizam o país e a instituição.
A história desenrola-se no Colégio Interno para Crianças com Deficiência Intelectual, ou, como os habitantes locais o chamam, a Escola dos Idiotas, em Tbilisi, na rua Kerch. As crianças da instituição, além de negligenciadas, são também abusadas física e sexualmente.
Lela, com 18 anos, pode sair da escola, mas não tem para onde ir. Antes de abandonar a escola, tem uma missão: matar Vano, o professor de História. Lela é uma verdadeira “mãe galinha”, cuidando especialmente de Irakli, um menino abandonado pela mãe, e que posteriormente um casal americano tenta adoptar.
Este é um romance triste, comovente e que nos apresenta o lado mais sombrio de um país .
75/198 – Geórgia
March 28, 2023
Aš augau kieme. Nedidelio miesto kieme su broliais, jų draugais ir geriausia drauge. Karstėmės medžiais, plaukiojom ant ledo lyčių, čiuoždavom pačiūžom ant užšalusios upės, statėmės būstines, parūkydavom "kancarų", gauja eidavom maudytis, kai vienam ar keliem vasarą pavykdavo iš namų pavogti rankšluostį, dar vogdavom braškes, persikus, obuolius, žirnius. Mūsų mieste net buvo mokykla, kurią lyg niekur nieko vadindavom "Gudručių". Tokie buvo laikai. Ir tas kiemas ir ta gauja tuo metu man buvo viskas. Laukiniai vakarai. Bet mano laukiniai vakarai. Ir juose vyko rimčiausių dalykų! Ir viskas buvo priimama už gryniausią pinigą, ir ten būdavo didelių dramų ir intrigų.
Aš turėjau namus, tėvus, brolius, draugus, visada turėjau kas mane gina ir saugo. Ir išvengiau daugelio pavojų. Bet knygą ir jos veikėjus tiesiog mačiau prieš save. Gyvus, realius, sužalotus, bandančius išgyventi, kuriančius keistus, bet jiems veikiančius santykius. Ir skaityti man vietomis tiesiog fiziškai skaudėjo iš nevilties. Iš negalėjimo tų vaikų apginti ir apsaugoti. Ir norėjosi verkti kartu su pgrindine veikėja ant suolo tarp medžių dėl tos bejėgystės.
Ne kartą esu sakius, kad skriaudžiami vaikai man tiesiog yra tema virš visko. Kai jie nebeturi vaikystės, o yra prievarta įmetami į suaugusių gyvenimą, į kovą už būvį. Kai iš jų atimama ne tik vaikystė, bet ir tyrumas, nekaltumas.
Šia knyga aš patikėjau, todėl gniauždama kumščius vietomis skaičiau ir liejau apmaudą. Nes taip neturėtų būti. Bet esu 100% tikra, kad būna. 💔
Iš kitos pusės, toje sumaištyje buvo galima įžvelgti tiek daug vilties, tiek tikėjimo kažkuo šviesesniu ateityje, tiek to vaikiško optimizmo ir tyro gerumo. Ir draugystės. Keistai besiklostančios, ne visad paaiškinamos, bet draugystės ir ryšio vienas su kitu. Nes kitas yra viskas, ką tu turi. Ir tai buvo gražu, bet kartu ir daužė širdį.
Ir nors anotacijoj sakoma, kad tai įdomi pažintis su ne paradiniu Sakartvelu, ši tema man liko antroje vietoje. Nes pirmoje atsidūrė žmonės. Vaikai ir jų gyvenimai.
Labai tikra, skaudi ir paveiki.
Savus vaikus po jos noris tik glaust ir glaust. Nieko daugiau.
"Tiesa ta, kad kriaušių laukas visada apsemtas vandens. Niekas tiksliai nežino, ar vanduo plūsta iš kažkur trūkusio vamzdžio, ar kyla iš po žemės"
"...o kriaušių laukas kelia jai siaubą. Eidama juo baiminasi, kad nugrims, kad kriaušių šakos ją sučiups ir prispaus prie žemės, įstumdamos gilyn į minkštą drėgną žemę, kad šaknys apsiraizgys aplink jos kūną ir amžiams įsiurbs į pragarmę."
Aš turėjau namus, tėvus, brolius, draugus, visada turėjau kas mane gina ir saugo. Ir išvengiau daugelio pavojų. Bet knygą ir jos veikėjus tiesiog mačiau prieš save. Gyvus, realius, sužalotus, bandančius išgyventi, kuriančius keistus, bet jiems veikiančius santykius. Ir skaityti man vietomis tiesiog fiziškai skaudėjo iš nevilties. Iš negalėjimo tų vaikų apginti ir apsaugoti. Ir norėjosi verkti kartu su pgrindine veikėja ant suolo tarp medžių dėl tos bejėgystės.
Ne kartą esu sakius, kad skriaudžiami vaikai man tiesiog yra tema virš visko. Kai jie nebeturi vaikystės, o yra prievarta įmetami į suaugusių gyvenimą, į kovą už būvį. Kai iš jų atimama ne tik vaikystė, bet ir tyrumas, nekaltumas.
Šia knyga aš patikėjau, todėl gniauždama kumščius vietomis skaičiau ir liejau apmaudą. Nes taip neturėtų būti. Bet esu 100% tikra, kad būna. 💔
Iš kitos pusės, toje sumaištyje buvo galima įžvelgti tiek daug vilties, tiek tikėjimo kažkuo šviesesniu ateityje, tiek to vaikiško optimizmo ir tyro gerumo. Ir draugystės. Keistai besiklostančios, ne visad paaiškinamos, bet draugystės ir ryšio vienas su kitu. Nes kitas yra viskas, ką tu turi. Ir tai buvo gražu, bet kartu ir daužė širdį.
Ir nors anotacijoj sakoma, kad tai įdomi pažintis su ne paradiniu Sakartvelu, ši tema man liko antroje vietoje. Nes pirmoje atsidūrė žmonės. Vaikai ir jų gyvenimai.
Labai tikra, skaudi ir paveiki.
Savus vaikus po jos noris tik glaust ir glaust. Nieko daugiau.
"Tiesa ta, kad kriaušių laukas visada apsemtas vandens. Niekas tiksliai nežino, ar vanduo plūsta iš kažkur trūkusio vamzdžio, ar kyla iš po žemės"
"...o kriaušių laukas kelia jai siaubą. Eidama juo baiminasi, kad nugrims, kad kriaušių šakos ją sučiups ir prispaus prie žemės, įstumdamos gilyn į minkštą drėgną žemę, kad šaknys apsiraizgys aplink jos kūną ir amžiams įsiurbs į pragarmę."
May 17, 2023
გონს ვერ მოვეგე ჯერ :დ. სიყვარულისა და სიკეთის ზეიმი, ცრემლის გადმოგდების გარეშე რომ ვერ წაიკითხავ.
ასეთი კარგი ქართული წიგნი კაი ხანია არ წამიკითხავს
ასეთი კარგი ქართული წიგნი კაი ხანია არ წამიკითხავს
July 6, 2022
Um livro pequeno e lindo. É daqueles livros que apesar de todo o cenário ser bem deprimente, nos faz terminar com um sorriso. A personagem principal é muito interessante e faz-nos praticar a empatia a um outro nível. Recomendo!
May 15, 2024
XX a. Tbilisis. Aplinkui verda laukinis gyvenimas, o miesto pakraštyje vis dar teveveikia Idiotų mokykla. Joje gyvena bei laiką leidžia protiškai atsilikę mokiniai. Tačiau tuo pačiu ši įstaiga tapo namais ir tiems, kurie neturi tėvų bei vietos kur gyventi.
Aštuoniolikmetė Lela ką tik baigė šią mokyklą. Ji turi nuspręsti ką nori veikti toliau. Į mokyklą kreipiasi pora iš JAV. Jie nori įsivaikinti devynmetį Iraklį. Lela nusprendžia visais įmanomais būdais jam padėti.
Nors ir gana nedidelės apimties istorija, tačiau savy talpinanti nemažai skaudžių išgyvenimų. Nors Sakartvelo nepažįstu ir ten lankiusis nesu, bet man pasirodė, jog autorė puikiai atskleidė to meto atmosferą bei gyvenimą tokioje bendruomenėje.
Man tikrai patiko Lelos personažas. Nors daug neteisybės ir skausmo teko šiai merginai, tačiau ji neprarado žmogiškumo bei humoro jausmo. Ši istorija man skaitėsu lengvai, autorė rašė paprastai, tačiau tikrai patraukliai.
Drįsčiau teigti, jog pirmoji pažintis su autorės kūryba tikrai vykusi.
Rekomenduoju ieškantiems tikros, nepagražintos istorijos.
Aštuoniolikmetė Lela ką tik baigė šią mokyklą. Ji turi nuspręsti ką nori veikti toliau. Į mokyklą kreipiasi pora iš JAV. Jie nori įsivaikinti devynmetį Iraklį. Lela nusprendžia visais įmanomais būdais jam padėti.
Nors ir gana nedidelės apimties istorija, tačiau savy talpinanti nemažai skaudžių išgyvenimų. Nors Sakartvelo nepažįstu ir ten lankiusis nesu, bet man pasirodė, jog autorė puikiai atskleidė to meto atmosferą bei gyvenimą tokioje bendruomenėje.
Man tikrai patiko Lelos personažas. Nors daug neteisybės ir skausmo teko šiai merginai, tačiau ji neprarado žmogiškumo bei humoro jausmo. Ši istorija man skaitėsu lengvai, autorė rašė paprastai, tačiau tikrai patraukliai.
Drįsčiau teigti, jog pirmoji pažintis su autorės kūryba tikrai vykusi.
Rekomenduoju ieškantiems tikros, nepagražintos istorijos.
November 28, 2025
Não gostei particularmente deste livro, mas gostei de o ter lido, pela visão que me deu acerca da vida num país que me é totalmente desconhecido, embora centrada numa realidade muito particular, a de uma instituição de acolhimento de crianças e jovens órfãos ou abandonados, alguns deles com algum tipo de deficiência mental.
A escrita é super-concisa, o que em geral me agradou e se adapta bem à realidade dura que é retratada, mas por vezes teria gostado de ver um maior desenvolvimento dos personagens, em particular, teria gostado de conhecer melhor Lela, Irakli e Dali.
A escrita é super-concisa, o que em geral me agradou e se adapta bem à realidade dura que é retratada, mas por vezes teria gostado de ver um maior desenvolvimento dos personagens, em particular, teria gostado de conhecer melhor Lela, Irakli e Dali.
October 7, 2023
2023 || #53
3,5 ⭐️
Tai - jautri bei tikroviška knyga, kuri nukelia skaitytoją į Sakartvelą (Tbilisio vaikų namus) ir įtraukia į istoriją, kurioje pinasi daug svarbių temų 💛
Tbilisio pakraštyje veikia "Idiotų mokykla" - mokykla, kuri iš tiesų skirta atsilikusiems mokiniams, bet priglaudusi ir daugiau beglobių vaikų. Kiekviena diena ten - nuolatinė kova už išlikimą, o vienintelė šeima, kurią turi vaikai - tik jie patys vieni kitiems. Leila jau baigė šią mokyklą, bet joje dar pasiliko, kol sugalvos, ką daryti toliau. Netikėtai į Idiotų mokyklą kreipiasi pora iš JAV, norinti įsivaikinti devynmetį Iraklį ir Leila suvokia darysianti viską, kad tik jam padėtų...
Mane sužavėjo, jog knyga iš pažiūros lengva, žaisminga, bet savyje talpina ir sudėtingas temas, skaudžias bei aktualias problemas. Viskas puikiai suderinta tarpusavyje, todėl istorija tampa lengvai skaitoma bei įtraukiančia. Galbūt anotacija ne visai tiksli ir gali suklaidinti: tai porai bei visai įsivaikinimo istorijai nėra skiriama daug reikšmės, dėmesys labiau krypsta į vaikus, jų išgyvenimus, Lenos jausmus.
Visgi, man pilnai įsitraukti nepavyko. Nors tų atskleidžiamų problemų daug, ne visos jos smigo gilyn, ne viską pavyko pilnai išjausti, ne su visais veikėjais "susidraugavau". Kažkaip net gaila, jog ši knyga taip ir iki galo nepalietė. Bet, nors kai kas ir "praslydo", tikrai galiu sakyti, jog tai - reikšmingas ir įsimintinas kūrinys. Knyga sukėlė minčių, kilo nemažai klausimų, į kuriuos ieškojau atsakymų tarp puslapių, liko peno apmąstymams.
Rekomenduoju ne kiekvienam. Patiks tiems, kurie nebijo skaudžių, atvirų knygų, atskleidžiančių nepagražintą realybę, Sakartvelo atmosferą, vaikų bendrystę bei kovą už gyvenimą ✨️
3,5 ⭐️
Tai - jautri bei tikroviška knyga, kuri nukelia skaitytoją į Sakartvelą (Tbilisio vaikų namus) ir įtraukia į istoriją, kurioje pinasi daug svarbių temų 💛
Tbilisio pakraštyje veikia "Idiotų mokykla" - mokykla, kuri iš tiesų skirta atsilikusiems mokiniams, bet priglaudusi ir daugiau beglobių vaikų. Kiekviena diena ten - nuolatinė kova už išlikimą, o vienintelė šeima, kurią turi vaikai - tik jie patys vieni kitiems. Leila jau baigė šią mokyklą, bet joje dar pasiliko, kol sugalvos, ką daryti toliau. Netikėtai į Idiotų mokyklą kreipiasi pora iš JAV, norinti įsivaikinti devynmetį Iraklį ir Leila suvokia darysianti viską, kad tik jam padėtų...
Mane sužavėjo, jog knyga iš pažiūros lengva, žaisminga, bet savyje talpina ir sudėtingas temas, skaudžias bei aktualias problemas. Viskas puikiai suderinta tarpusavyje, todėl istorija tampa lengvai skaitoma bei įtraukiančia. Galbūt anotacija ne visai tiksli ir gali suklaidinti: tai porai bei visai įsivaikinimo istorijai nėra skiriama daug reikšmės, dėmesys labiau krypsta į vaikus, jų išgyvenimus, Lenos jausmus.
Visgi, man pilnai įsitraukti nepavyko. Nors tų atskleidžiamų problemų daug, ne visos jos smigo gilyn, ne viską pavyko pilnai išjausti, ne su visais veikėjais "susidraugavau". Kažkaip net gaila, jog ši knyga taip ir iki galo nepalietė. Bet, nors kai kas ir "praslydo", tikrai galiu sakyti, jog tai - reikšmingas ir įsimintinas kūrinys. Knyga sukėlė minčių, kilo nemažai klausimų, į kuriuos ieškojau atsakymų tarp puslapių, liko peno apmąstymams.
Rekomenduoju ne kiekvienam. Patiks tiems, kurie nebijo skaudžių, atvirų knygų, atskleidžiančių nepagražintą realybę, Sakartvelo atmosferą, vaikų bendrystę bei kovą už gyvenimą ✨️
November 17, 2021
Grim Georgian Orphanage
Review of the Peirene Press paperback edition (2020) translated from the original Georgian მსხლების მინდორი (Pear Field) (2015)
[TW: Child Abuse, Sexual Assault]
The rather cheery bright green leaf bough on the preliminary cover for The Pear Field is deceptive as the actual pear field in the novel is a muddy sodden tract with trees bearing bitter fruit and is the scene for assaults of a hazing nature for the children who live at the institutional orphanage across the way. The final publication cover is more subdued.
This was grim reading in the most part with the only relief being the spirited lead character Lela who plans a departure for herself and a 9-year-0ld boy Irakli from the confines of the institution. Not all will turn out as expected.
I read The Pear Field as part of my subscription to the 2020 Closed Universe series at Peirene Press. The subscription provides for advance copies of the annual series of 3 books. Although the subject matter this year has been on more of a depressing note, I still applaud Peirene for their continued efforts to support international translations.
Review of the Peirene Press paperback edition (2020) translated from the original Georgian მსხლების მინდორი (Pear Field) (2015)
[TW: Child Abuse, Sexual Assault]
The rather cheery bright green leaf bough on the preliminary cover for The Pear Field is deceptive as the actual pear field in the novel is a muddy sodden tract with trees bearing bitter fruit and is the scene for assaults of a hazing nature for the children who live at the institutional orphanage across the way. The final publication cover is more subdued.
This was grim reading in the most part with the only relief being the spirited lead character Lela who plans a departure for herself and a 9-year-0ld boy Irakli from the confines of the institution. Not all will turn out as expected.
I read The Pear Field as part of my subscription to the 2020 Closed Universe series at Peirene Press. The subscription provides for advance copies of the annual series of 3 books. Although the subject matter this year has been on more of a depressing note, I still applaud Peirene for their continued efforts to support international translations.
April 24, 2021
Uninspired, underdeveloped and unimpressive. As much as I wanted to find something to hold on to and as much as I hate being this disrespectful with someone's hard intellectual work, I can't think of anything good to say about this book. The writing was bland and never went into anything other than a factual listing of who does what. The story itself was chaotic as it kept jumping between characters and event, many of which were irrelevant and unneedes. I think the book relied heavily on its readers' emotions and feeling sorry for the unfortunate circumstances of the children in the orphanage, but the writing itself made any sort of emotional connection and sympathy impossible.
June 19, 2024
Um “Capitães da Areia” em versão Europa de Leste.
Foi a primeira ideia que me veio à cabeça depois de ler este livro – uma história crua, violenta, com crianças entregues a elas próprias.
Na Geórgia, após o colapso da União Soviética, acompanhamos o dia-a-dia de uma escola interna, teoricamente destinada a crianças e jovens com necessidades educativas especiais, mas na prática ocupada por menores abandonados pelos seus progenitores. A autora descreve com cruel realismo a pobreza, o abuso dos docentes (incluindo sexual) e a desesperança dos mais novos (e também dos adultos) num país que ainda não encontrou o seu rumo.
Uma história curta, mas que deixa marcas.
Foi a primeira ideia que me veio à cabeça depois de ler este livro – uma história crua, violenta, com crianças entregues a elas próprias.
Na Geórgia, após o colapso da União Soviética, acompanhamos o dia-a-dia de uma escola interna, teoricamente destinada a crianças e jovens com necessidades educativas especiais, mas na prática ocupada por menores abandonados pelos seus progenitores. A autora descreve com cruel realismo a pobreza, o abuso dos docentes (incluindo sexual) e a desesperança dos mais novos (e também dos adultos) num país que ainda não encontrou o seu rumo.
Uma história curta, mas que deixa marcas.
October 7, 2018
Die Geschichte spielt in einem Kinderheim in der georgischen Hauptstadt Tiflis in den 1990er-Jahren. Obwohl es sich eigentlich um eine Einrichtung für geistig zurückgebliebene Kinder handelt, wird schnell klar, dass dort auch viele gesunde Kinder abgegeben werden, entweder weil andere Heime bereits voll sind oder die Eltern für den Unterhalt nicht mehr aufkommen können oder wollen. Im Zentrum der Geschichte stehen also verlassene Kinder und Jugendliche aller Altersklassen, die der Gesellschaft, den Pflegern, und meist sogar den eigenen Eltern, völlig egal sind.
Unter ihnen lebt die 18-jährige Lela, die sich für die jüngeren Kinder verantwortlich fühlt und mit ihrer rauen Art zu beschützen versucht. Als ihr bester Freund die Chance bekommt diesem hoffnungslosen Leben im Heim zu entfliehen, versucht sie alles um ihn dabei zu unterstützen.
Mein Eindruck:
Mein Kontakt mit georgischer Literatur hat mich bisher ausschließlich mit den düsteren Seiten des Landes konfrontiert. Es ging um schwere Armut, Gewalt, Drogen und Missbrauch. Dieses Buch ist da keine Ausnahme. Auch Nana Ekvtimishvili rechnet in ihrem Debütroman mit einer Gesellschaft ab, die derartige Zustände duldet, denn das hier beschriebene Kinderheim hat ein real existierendes Vorbild.
Das Leben der Kinder ist trost- und vor allem perspektivlos. Auch in der direkten Nachbarschaft interessiert sich niemand für ihr Schicksal, weil es in dieser Gesellschaft einfach zu viele von ihnen gibt. Trotzdem bewahren sich einige der Kinder die Hoffnung, dass sie eines Tages von ihren Eltern zurückgeholt oder von fremden Menschen adoptiert werden. Denn damit würden sie zu einer jener Erfolgsgeschichten werden, die man sich im Heim sehnsüchtig erzählt. Zu einem Kind, das es geschafft hat der Einrichtung zu entfliehen und etwas aus seinem Leben zu machen. Hier zeigt sich trotz all der widrigen Umstände der erstaunliche Lebenswillen und die Anpassungsfähigkeit von Kindern, die schon lange aus dem Blickfeld der Erwachsenen verschwunden sind.
Doch die Gesellschaft lässt kaum eine Gelegenheit aus um den jungen Bewohnern ihre Wertlosigkeit vor Augen zu führen, oder ihre Armut auszunutzen, und so beschreibt Nana Ekvtimishvili sehr realistisch wie die ständige Ablehnung und der unerfüllte Wunsch irgendjemandem wichtig zu sein letztlich auch zu Gewalt unter den Kindern führt. Doch neben den schrecklichen Machtspielen und Ritualen existieren kleine Inseln aus Freundschaft und Zusammenhalt, insbesondere durch Lela, die trotz ihrer eigenen hoffnungslosen Zukunft nicht aufhört für die Kinder zu kämpfen.
Die Symbolik des titelgebenden Birnenfelds im Moor, dessen Bäume nur ungenießbare Früchte tragen, ist dabei recht offensichtlich, gefiel mir in vielen Szenen aber sehr gut.
Leider war mir die verwendete Sprache zu einfach. Sie unterstützt zwar das harte Leben der Kinder, konnte mich aber gleichzeitig nicht richtig erreichen oder begeistern, weswegen ich selbst in sehr traurigen Szenen distanziert blieb. Ich hatte den Eindruck, dass die Autorin eine filmische Idee verschriftlicht, sodass ich zu den meisten Szenen konkrete Bilder im Kopf hatte, die Sprache als Instrument aber etwas zu kurz kam. Wie immer kann dieser Eindruck auch einfach an der Übersetzung liegen.
Fazit:
Insgesamt ein gelungenes Debüt, dass mir einen Einblick in eine völlig fremde Welt geben und mein Interesse am filmischen Werk der Autorin wecken konnte.
Meine Rezension auf YouTube:
https://youtu.be/XLOqgu112h4
Unter ihnen lebt die 18-jährige Lela, die sich für die jüngeren Kinder verantwortlich fühlt und mit ihrer rauen Art zu beschützen versucht. Als ihr bester Freund die Chance bekommt diesem hoffnungslosen Leben im Heim zu entfliehen, versucht sie alles um ihn dabei zu unterstützen.
Mein Eindruck:
Mein Kontakt mit georgischer Literatur hat mich bisher ausschließlich mit den düsteren Seiten des Landes konfrontiert. Es ging um schwere Armut, Gewalt, Drogen und Missbrauch. Dieses Buch ist da keine Ausnahme. Auch Nana Ekvtimishvili rechnet in ihrem Debütroman mit einer Gesellschaft ab, die derartige Zustände duldet, denn das hier beschriebene Kinderheim hat ein real existierendes Vorbild.
Das Leben der Kinder ist trost- und vor allem perspektivlos. Auch in der direkten Nachbarschaft interessiert sich niemand für ihr Schicksal, weil es in dieser Gesellschaft einfach zu viele von ihnen gibt. Trotzdem bewahren sich einige der Kinder die Hoffnung, dass sie eines Tages von ihren Eltern zurückgeholt oder von fremden Menschen adoptiert werden. Denn damit würden sie zu einer jener Erfolgsgeschichten werden, die man sich im Heim sehnsüchtig erzählt. Zu einem Kind, das es geschafft hat der Einrichtung zu entfliehen und etwas aus seinem Leben zu machen. Hier zeigt sich trotz all der widrigen Umstände der erstaunliche Lebenswillen und die Anpassungsfähigkeit von Kindern, die schon lange aus dem Blickfeld der Erwachsenen verschwunden sind.
Doch die Gesellschaft lässt kaum eine Gelegenheit aus um den jungen Bewohnern ihre Wertlosigkeit vor Augen zu führen, oder ihre Armut auszunutzen, und so beschreibt Nana Ekvtimishvili sehr realistisch wie die ständige Ablehnung und der unerfüllte Wunsch irgendjemandem wichtig zu sein letztlich auch zu Gewalt unter den Kindern führt. Doch neben den schrecklichen Machtspielen und Ritualen existieren kleine Inseln aus Freundschaft und Zusammenhalt, insbesondere durch Lela, die trotz ihrer eigenen hoffnungslosen Zukunft nicht aufhört für die Kinder zu kämpfen.
Die Symbolik des titelgebenden Birnenfelds im Moor, dessen Bäume nur ungenießbare Früchte tragen, ist dabei recht offensichtlich, gefiel mir in vielen Szenen aber sehr gut.
Leider war mir die verwendete Sprache zu einfach. Sie unterstützt zwar das harte Leben der Kinder, konnte mich aber gleichzeitig nicht richtig erreichen oder begeistern, weswegen ich selbst in sehr traurigen Szenen distanziert blieb. Ich hatte den Eindruck, dass die Autorin eine filmische Idee verschriftlicht, sodass ich zu den meisten Szenen konkrete Bilder im Kopf hatte, die Sprache als Instrument aber etwas zu kurz kam. Wie immer kann dieser Eindruck auch einfach an der Übersetzung liegen.
Fazit:
Insgesamt ein gelungenes Debüt, dass mir einen Einblick in eine völlig fremde Welt geben und mein Interesse am filmischen Werk der Autorin wecken konnte.
Meine Rezension auf YouTube:
https://youtu.be/XLOqgu112h4
December 11, 2022
Sono stata l'altro giorno alla presentazione del libro "Il campo delle pere" a Più libri più libri 2022: ascoltare l'autrice e la traduttrice mi ha fatto decidere a iniziare questo libro che avevo già nella mia lista dei libri da leggere.
Il convitto dei ritardati è una struttura che è realmente esistita in Georgia, negli anni novanta: la scrittrice deve molto a sua madre per non averle mai impedito il contatto con i bambini del convitto. Alcuni di loro li ha riconosciuti da grandi, quando è ritornata in Georgia, dopo aver studiato in Germania.
Riporto una parte dei miei appunti:
- Quanto ti ritieni distanziata da questa storia ambientata negli anni novanta?
- La Georgia a lungo è vissuta sotto il dominio russo. Le opere georgiane erano tradotte dopo una lunga censura russa.
- Nel romanzo c’è sempre una parvenza di famiglia. Qual è il futuro di Lela?
- Lo scopo di questo libro è capire cos’è la famiglia per ragazzi senza famiglia. Per Lela, nonostante tutte le brutture vissute, decide che quello è il suo ambiente familiare. Chi ha subito violenze ha dentro di sé comunque un raggio di sole che permette a lui di vivere. Quando sono tornata in Georgia, dopo essere stata a Berlino, ho riconosciuto alcuni dei ragazzi del convitto che erano diventati mendicanti. Quanto è diverso il destino di ciascuno di noi. Queste persone non dobbiamo sempre considerarli come deboli ed emarginati; possono essere considerati anche degli eroi, contribuendo a migliorare la propria e l’altrui vita.
Mi è piaciuta la storia; mi è piaciuta la scrittura in molte parti poetica ed evocativa.
Mi è piaciuto il legame di protezione che si instaura tra Lela e Irakli: loro due alla fine del romanzo saranno una famiglia; famiglia è dove ci si sente a casa, protetti, anche se non ci sono legami di sangue.
Credo che il libro si possa riassumere in questa metafora degli alberi che si trova più o meno a metà del romanzo: "Osserva il posto dov’è seduta: sui tronchi di entrambi gli alberi ci sono degli incavi laterali, fatti con la sega, all’interno dei quali è stata introdotta un’asse di legno. È così che è stata ricavata la famigerata panchina del cortile del Convitto, che ha visto susseguirsi generazioni di bambini residenti nell’istituto. E intanto i due abeti continuano a vivere, a crescere, a cercare di reggersi in piedi malgrado i fusti tagliati quasi a metà, e a far arrivare fino in cima il nutrimento assorbito dalle radici. Si direbbe che la trave gli si sia innestata addosso, legandoli per sempre, e che li aiuti a mantenersi in equilibrio. E, dal momento che i due alberi sono diventati prigionieri l’uno dell’altro e anche degli esseri umani, non resta loro che vivere con questo corpo estraneo trapiantato nella carne."
Note a margine: 1) Nana Ekvtimishvili è una registra e sceneggiatrice georgiana abbastanza famosa. Questo è il suo primo romanzo: scrivendo il libro, e non la sceneggiatura del film, voleva essere più libera nel raccontare questa storia. In futuro forse si potrà trarre un film da questo romanzo. Non sarà sicuramente lei però a scrivere la sceneggiatura!
2) Immenso plauso a Voland che dà voce agli autori georgiani: non credevo che fosse così difficile per loro uscire dai propri confini nazionali, a causa della censura russa.
Il convitto dei ritardati è una struttura che è realmente esistita in Georgia, negli anni novanta: la scrittrice deve molto a sua madre per non averle mai impedito il contatto con i bambini del convitto. Alcuni di loro li ha riconosciuti da grandi, quando è ritornata in Georgia, dopo aver studiato in Germania.
Riporto una parte dei miei appunti:
- Quanto ti ritieni distanziata da questa storia ambientata negli anni novanta?
- La Georgia a lungo è vissuta sotto il dominio russo. Le opere georgiane erano tradotte dopo una lunga censura russa.
- Nel romanzo c’è sempre una parvenza di famiglia. Qual è il futuro di Lela?
- Lo scopo di questo libro è capire cos’è la famiglia per ragazzi senza famiglia. Per Lela, nonostante tutte le brutture vissute, decide che quello è il suo ambiente familiare. Chi ha subito violenze ha dentro di sé comunque un raggio di sole che permette a lui di vivere. Quando sono tornata in Georgia, dopo essere stata a Berlino, ho riconosciuto alcuni dei ragazzi del convitto che erano diventati mendicanti. Quanto è diverso il destino di ciascuno di noi. Queste persone non dobbiamo sempre considerarli come deboli ed emarginati; possono essere considerati anche degli eroi, contribuendo a migliorare la propria e l’altrui vita.
Mi è piaciuta la storia; mi è piaciuta la scrittura in molte parti poetica ed evocativa.
Mi è piaciuto il legame di protezione che si instaura tra Lela e Irakli: loro due alla fine del romanzo saranno una famiglia; famiglia è dove ci si sente a casa, protetti, anche se non ci sono legami di sangue.
Credo che il libro si possa riassumere in questa metafora degli alberi che si trova più o meno a metà del romanzo: "Osserva il posto dov’è seduta: sui tronchi di entrambi gli alberi ci sono degli incavi laterali, fatti con la sega, all’interno dei quali è stata introdotta un’asse di legno. È così che è stata ricavata la famigerata panchina del cortile del Convitto, che ha visto susseguirsi generazioni di bambini residenti nell’istituto. E intanto i due abeti continuano a vivere, a crescere, a cercare di reggersi in piedi malgrado i fusti tagliati quasi a metà, e a far arrivare fino in cima il nutrimento assorbito dalle radici. Si direbbe che la trave gli si sia innestata addosso, legandoli per sempre, e che li aiuti a mantenersi in equilibrio. E, dal momento che i due alberi sono diventati prigionieri l’uno dell’altro e anche degli esseri umani, non resta loro che vivere con questo corpo estraneo trapiantato nella carne."
Note a margine: 1) Nana Ekvtimishvili è una registra e sceneggiatrice georgiana abbastanza famosa. Questo è il suo primo romanzo: scrivendo il libro, e non la sceneggiatura del film, voleva essere più libera nel raccontare questa storia. In futuro forse si potrà trarre un film da questo romanzo. Non sarà sicuramente lei però a scrivere la sceneggiatura!
2) Immenso plauso a Voland che dà voce agli autori georgiani: non credevo che fosse così difficile per loro uscire dai propri confini nazionali, a causa della censura russa.
February 7, 2026
Why do I keep picking up books with such uncomfortable subject matter? I'm a glutton for punishment...
The way this story is told is so impactful. The way that such deplorable acts are glossed over and accepted as normal really hurts. These poor kids. They're desensitised and hurt with no one to help them, so they victimise others in the same ways they were harmed. No one intervenes so the cycle simply continues. So heartbreaking and genuinely upsetting to think about
The way this story is told is so impactful. The way that such deplorable acts are glossed over and accepted as normal really hurts. These poor kids. They're desensitised and hurt with no one to help them, so they victimise others in the same ways they were harmed. No one intervenes so the cycle simply continues. So heartbreaking and genuinely upsetting to think about
November 9, 2022
Gürcü yazar Nana Ekvtimishvili'nin 2021 Uluslararası Booker Ödülü'nün uzun listesinde yer alan Armut Bahçesi kitabı epey sert bir konuya odaklanıyor: post-Sovyet Gürcistan'da zihinsel engelliler için kurulmuş bir yatılı okulda yaşayan Lela ve arkadaşlarının hikayesini okuyoruz; maalesef ki fizikel & psikolojik şiddet, zorbalık ve istismar da hikayenin içinde kendine bolca yer buluyor.
Aslen sinemacı olan Ekvtimishvili'nin ilk romanıymış bu, açıkçası bu kitapla ilgili beklentilerim daha yüksekti. Anlattığı hikâye her ne kadar güçlü olsa da bir şekilde karakterle ilişkilenmekte, yaşadıkları korkunç deneyimleri hissetmekte zorlandım, yazarın üslubu bana yeterince güçlü gelmedi. Belki de kendisinin sinemacılığındandır, yer yer sanki ancak canlandırılınca duygusunu geçirebilecek, senaryovari bölümler vardı kitapta.
Bu ara çevirilere çok homurdandım ama maalesef yine aynı şey oldu; kötü çeviri beni çok zorluyor. "mişti" diye biten bir cümlenin ardından "di"li cümle kurup bir sonraki cümlede tekrar "mişti"ye dönemezsiniz ya, yapmayınız artık. Türkçe 101 bu, çevirmenim diyorsanız cümleler arasında çat çut zaman kipi değiştiremezsiniz, bunlar nasıl çevirmenin, editörün, son okumacının kulağını tırmalamaz, dil duygusu nasıl devreye girmez ben anlamıyorum, gerçekten okurken bütün odağım dağılıyor, kopuveriyorum metinden.
Sonuçta biraz yavan ve sönük buldum, Booker listesinde yer alan kitaplar genelde üzmüyor ama bu defa öyle olmadı. Belki de adaylığının yolunu açan İngilizce çevirisi bambaşkadır, bilemiyorum. Ama çarpıcı bir öykü, bir kitabı tek başına iyi yapmaya yetmiyor işte. (Konusu da benzediği için aklıma Nickel Çocukları'nı getirdi, onda da öykünün gücüne rağmen kitabı sevememiştim.)
Bu hikayeden çok sarsıcı bir film olur ama. Belki Nana Hanım filme de çeker bu öyküyü, kim bilir?
Aslen sinemacı olan Ekvtimishvili'nin ilk romanıymış bu, açıkçası bu kitapla ilgili beklentilerim daha yüksekti. Anlattığı hikâye her ne kadar güçlü olsa da bir şekilde karakterle ilişkilenmekte, yaşadıkları korkunç deneyimleri hissetmekte zorlandım, yazarın üslubu bana yeterince güçlü gelmedi. Belki de kendisinin sinemacılığındandır, yer yer sanki ancak canlandırılınca duygusunu geçirebilecek, senaryovari bölümler vardı kitapta.
Bu ara çevirilere çok homurdandım ama maalesef yine aynı şey oldu; kötü çeviri beni çok zorluyor. "mişti" diye biten bir cümlenin ardından "di"li cümle kurup bir sonraki cümlede tekrar "mişti"ye dönemezsiniz ya, yapmayınız artık. Türkçe 101 bu, çevirmenim diyorsanız cümleler arasında çat çut zaman kipi değiştiremezsiniz, bunlar nasıl çevirmenin, editörün, son okumacının kulağını tırmalamaz, dil duygusu nasıl devreye girmez ben anlamıyorum, gerçekten okurken bütün odağım dağılıyor, kopuveriyorum metinden.
Sonuçta biraz yavan ve sönük buldum, Booker listesinde yer alan kitaplar genelde üzmüyor ama bu defa öyle olmadı. Belki de adaylığının yolunu açan İngilizce çevirisi bambaşkadır, bilemiyorum. Ama çarpıcı bir öykü, bir kitabı tek başına iyi yapmaya yetmiyor işte. (Konusu da benzediği için aklıma Nickel Çocukları'nı getirdi, onda da öykünün gücüne rağmen kitabı sevememiştim.)
Bu hikayeden çok sarsıcı bir film olur ama. Belki Nana Hanım filme de çeker bu öyküyü, kim bilir?
June 25, 2022
Ler este livro nesta altura não foi fácil. É um livro sobre crianças abandonadas pela família e pela sociedade, umas com deficiência mental e outras não, que acabam por ser institucionalizadas numa escola especial na Geórgia.
Apesar de não aprofundar totalmente a vida de todas estas crianças, vamos acompanhando com mais pormenor algumas e a forma que arranjam para sobreviver neste local.
Não foi uma leitura fácil… não posso dizer que gostei, quando o livro relata a crueldade, os abusos, a negligência e o esquecimento a que estas crianças estão sujeitas. Mas gostei da forma como está escrito e a ligação forte entre todos estas “crianças especiais”, que assumem o papel de se protegerem do resto do mundo.
Apesar de não aprofundar totalmente a vida de todas estas crianças, vamos acompanhando com mais pormenor algumas e a forma que arranjam para sobreviver neste local.
Não foi uma leitura fácil… não posso dizer que gostei, quando o livro relata a crueldade, os abusos, a negligência e o esquecimento a que estas crianças estão sujeitas. Mas gostei da forma como está escrito e a ligação forte entre todos estas “crianças especiais”, que assumem o papel de se protegerem do resto do mundo.
April 8, 2022
Este livro conta-nos de uma forma directa e sem floreados o que é crescer sem o amor de uma família, o que é ser abusado sexualmente por quem nos devia proteger mas conta-nos sobretudo, o que é crescer aos olhos da sociedade e ser constantemente mal tratado e humilhado só por estar numa escola para crianças com necessidades especiais.
É uma história simples, não é nenhuma obra prima mas por momentos deixou-me a pensar, em que fiquei triste e momentos houve em que me ri também!
Gostei deste livro pelo seu humor negro e porque nos mostra, que mesmo mesmo dentro das suas limitações cognitivas e intelectuais, estas crianças são resilientes e unidas.
É uma história simples, não é nenhuma obra prima mas por momentos deixou-me a pensar, em que fiquei triste e momentos houve em que me ri também!
Gostei deste livro pelo seu humor negro e porque nos mostra, que mesmo mesmo dentro das suas limitações cognitivas e intelectuais, estas crianças são resilientes e unidas.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 321 reviews