A review by verbava
S.: A Novel about the Balkans by Slavenka Drakulić

5.0

At that moment in that room she realises that the camp is not just a place where she happens to find herself, it has become the condition of her body and soul.

від "с." іноді фізично нудить, у найпрямішому з сенсів. і для цього є купа причин: бо текст проникливий і реалістичний; бо тема його страшна і занадто актуальна; бо я жінка, і навіть якщо винести війну за дужки, там залишиться занадто багато жахливого, що залазить мені під шкіру.
тому про "с." непросто говорити. тобто так, можна стежити за розвитком тексту, за поступовим стисканням рефлексій (іноді здається, що думки витікають із героїні разом з тим, як витікає її життя, і в ній лишається сила тільки фіксувати деталі довколишнього світу), за "зісковзуванням" із третьоосібної розповіді в я-наратив (що дуже потужний художній прийом, як на мене. щойно заспокоюєш себе думками про художність тексту, як тебе хапають за волосся і знову занурюють у це жахіття. а чого ти хотіла, справді). усе це – досвід читання, про який можна розповісти. але "с." змушує переживати себе, і цей аспект погано піддається проговоренню.

During those few days and nights, pain had moved into S. as if into its own house. She felt occupied. A previously unknown illness had entered her and was now eating away at her. S. could not imagine that a man's body could do such damage to a woman, that it was so powerful, so unfairly overpowering that a woman had no defence against such force.
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She wonders what else she will have to give up and what is the minimum of things with which one can survive without losing the feeling that one is human?
___

She is awake. Again she thinks about fear. Until then, she had not been aware of fear, she had been convinced that she did not feel fear, not even when they had taken the group of men out from the gym, or when she had heard the burst of gunfire. She listens. She knows now that fear is the absence of all emotion, it is emptiness, it is as if your whole body is drained of blood all at once.
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A refugee is someone who has been expelled from somewhere but does not go anywhere because they have nowhere to go.
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Her body lies in the bed like an inanimate object, an emptied bellow or shopping bag. Nothing has changed with her departure from the camp. Her body is still in their power, even more so now. Only now does S. understand that a woman's body never really belongs to the woman. It belongs to others—to the man, the children, the family. And in wartime to soldiers.