From the very beginning, I must mention that I am fascinated by Gheorghi Gospodinov’s writing. His rough and yet gentle style, the artistry of the way he chooses the words (a very important role plays the translator who translated this book, like any translator, for that matter, when it comes to translating literature) in order to move you around rooms filled with stimuli for all the senses are just a couple of reasons why I’ll be passionately reading any book signed by this Bulgarian author.
The past as alleviation and not a vessel for all complaints regarding
the present is the theme of the novel. If you were to live in a period from the
past, which one would you choose? Started as an experiment to alleviate the
pains of Alzheimer patients, the past as solution is welcomed by sane people
and nations, and one cannot help as spectator (for Gospodinov has a certain
gift to make the reader feel like they are inside the narrative) to ponder upon
the dilemma.
Even from the very first novel that I read by him, Gheorghi Gospodinov
has equipped me with a certitude – there is a magical connection between
nations and time clearly visible through literature. Wherever and whenever they
might live, the writers seem to be connected through a muse that speaks the
same language and manifests more or less similar preoccupations. This idea was
even clearer when I read this book by Oscar Wilde and found similar thoughts
about the past, what it means to be a writer, the relation between a writer and
their characters and many more.
And to convince you to read the book, see below some excerpts from the ‘Time Refuge’:
“Thus, I was to present myself as a writer, a more
innocuous profession but for which no identification card is given. “
“Gaustin, the one that I met in flesh and blood
only after having created him.”
“To become satiated with a foreign past, just
like with the bananas you craved for all your life. The past is not only what
happened to you. Sometimes, it is also what you have imagined.”
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