Found in Translation

Over the past ten years at LJ, I have reviewed almost every new book written by a writer from Croatia. Given my background (I was born on Croatia's side of the Adriatic), I have been able to relate to the key theme permeating so much of its literature: the struggle to come to terms with no longer belonging to what was once "home" while realizing that "home" could never be any place else.

Half of Croatia's population lives outside of it. So it's no surprise that some of the country's greatest talent resides abroad. And of all the writers being published in the United States, Mario Susko (soon to be a U.S. citizen) and Dubravka Ugresic (now a Dutch citizen) stand out as the most innovative. I asked both via email to share a few passing thoughts.

Susko, who remains the region's last-standing poet, writing in both English and Croatian, said, "Poetry, once we realize that it demands more patience than prose, forces a reader to think about himself or herself. I write in times that are not conducive to this kind of demand, but I cannot do anything about it." Ugresic focused on the tone of her narration: "Sometimes it's light and funny...sometimes it is serious. [This is] because the authoritarian' tone...presupposes that the narrator tells the truth, which is an ambitious thing to claim."

In an age when Croatia is fast becoming a desirable location for American tourists, it is my hope that, with a little help from Susko and Ugresic, it is also recognized as a country with a thriving literary tradition.—MR

"I was born too early for the earth's indifference" is the quote by famous Croatian poet Tin Ujevic that Susko (Eternity on Hold) chose to set the tone for this collection of poems. And rightfully so, for it is a delicate one, replete with situations in which the narrator comes to grips with what his mind can control and what ultimately controls the mind. It is the conversations that the poet has with himself that make us reflect on our own experience ("If I forget the word pain,/will I be free of pain, or/will the word be free from itself?") as well as the self-effacing words of wisdom that appear throughout as if to surprise the poet himself ("words have always caused/pain and pain always made us speak, yet/neither ever helped us know one another"). Some old characters from Susko's previous collections make appearances, namely, the dead mother, who is the voice of both reason and ambiguity, helping to propel the poet into a sphere where one must accept "the earth's indifference." In the end, however, a realization that "memory's nothing but an endless dead end road" lingers. A graceful collection of poems by a veteran, this is warmly recommended for all poetry collections.—Mirela Roncevic, Library Journal

In her long career, Ugresic has published several novels (e.g., The Ministry of Pain), but she made her name with her essay collections, which have caused controversy and earned her the admiration of writers and critics abroad. In these latest musings, written over the course of several years, Ugresic leaves no stone unturned and no thought contained, doing what she does best: writing about the human condition through her own experience. Refusing to establish a central theme, she touches upon a wide range of topics: the paradox of multiculturalism, metaphors as our "defense against nightmares," the eerie similarities between capitalism and communism, and ways in which we try to rise hopelessly above our less-than-perfect existence. Along the way, she pays homage to the works of literature that have influenced her own creative process, in an effort to pay "a symbolic literary tax on narcissim" because "writing is not the humblest of vocations." Perhaps not, but Ugresic certainly knows how to balance being a critic with being criticized. Recommended for all libraries collecting cultural criticism.—Mirela Roncevic, Library Journal