The Dedalus Book of Slovak Literature, page 1
The Editor
Peter Karpinský teaches at the University of Prešov. He is a prize-winning author of books for both adults and children, and has written plays for radio and television. He is the editor of 5x5, an anthology of contemporary Slovak Literature which was published in 2012.
The Translators
Denis Dobrovoda
Denis Dobrovoda was born and educated in Bratislava. He went to university in England at Oxford and has a degree in Philosophy, Politics and Economics. He is currently living in France. He began translating when he was nineteen years old.
Janet Livingstone
Janet Livingstone was born in the USA in Brookline, Massachusetts but has lived in Slovakia for 14 years. She has been a translator since 2003 and specialises in film scripts. Her many translations include the novels The Best of All Worlds by Irena Brežná and Boat Number Five by Monika Kompanikova.
Magdalena Mullek
Magdalena Mullek is a Slovak translator who has studied at the University of Indiana where she is currently completing her doctorate in Slavic Languages and Literatures.
Contents
Title
The Editor
The Translators
Introduction: Literature – A Public Affair
Tinker’s Christmas – Martin Kukučín
Gajdoš’s War Horse – Jozef Cíger Hronský
Old Age – Milo Urban
Edita’s Eye – Gejza Vámoš
Wicker Chairs – Dominik Tatarka
With Rozarka – Vincent Šikula
A Collection Of Material – Rudolf Sloboda
Indecisive – Ján Johanides
Escalation of Feeling I – Pavel Vilikovský
A Breeze and the Others – Dušan Mitana
A Little Side Story about Bean Soup – Václav Pankovčín
Pregnancy – Balla
Escape – Monika Kompaníková
Editor’s Note
Copyright
Literature – A Public Affair
Slovak literature began to develop somewhat later than its European counterparts. Even though the first literary works written in the vernacular appeared around the 15th century, real literary development did not begin until the end of the 18th century, and most of it took place during the 19th and 20th centuries. This delay in literary production was closely tied in with the evolution of Slovak society. For a long time, no significant cultural or social centres existed in the territory of present-day Slovakia, which was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until 1918, and the area also lacked a literary language. The creation of cultural centres in Bratislava, Trnava, Martin, Liptovský Mikuláš, Levoča, Prešov and Kežmarok, combined with the first attempts at standardising the Slovak language and its subsequent standardisation by Ľudovít Štúr, provided the impetus for literary development.
Political and social changes in Slovakia had a huge impact on the development of Slovak literature. Slovak literature was not able to free itself from the influence of politics for a long time. The Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867 led to more autonomy for the Hungarians from Austria but put at a disadvantage other ethnic groups such as the Slovaks in Hungary. The Magyarization of Hungarian society made the protection of the Slovak identity the central focus of Slovak literature, although there were still echoes of previous themes focusing on pan-Slavic solidarity. After the abolition in 1875 of the Slovak Foundation (Matica Slovenská), which was an important cultural institution in this period, Slovak literature was in disarray.
During this period Realism replaced Romanticism with a new generation of writers emerging who became major figures. The old symbols of the eagle and the hawk, flight and fall, so redolent of nationalism, were replaced by the home, trees and roots, representing a permanent and unchanging reality, heralding revival and regeneration. Most of the fiction in this Realist period was set in a village. Among the major authors of this period were Svetozár Hurban-Vajanský, Martin Kukučín, Elena Maróthy-Šoltésová and Terézia Vansová. Despite the fact that Slovak Realist prose was a reaction against Romanticism, the period marked a turning point during which many important works of fiction were written.
Political conflicts in society are central to the fiction of Svetozár Hurban Vajanský (1847–1916), who juxtaposes the conservative, almost backwards, preceding generation with their more progressive successors. Responding to contemporary needs, Vajanský tackles the question of the ideal make-up of society, and his emphasis is on strong characters who can stand up to tradition. Martin Kukučín (1860–1928) is regarded as the epic poet of Slovak Realism. His good-natured humorous depiction of village life blends folklore, idiomatic expressions and the demotic into the narative. He was one of the first to use the language of the common people in literature
The authors of what is now termed late Realism preferred the shorter literary forms of the novella, short story or sketch. It was a period of fragmentation and more matter of fact writing.
Among the most prominent writers of the period are Božena Slančíková-Timrava (1867–1951), Jozef Gregor Tajovský (1874–1940) and Janko Jesenský (1874–1945). Božena Slančíková-Timrava’s writing fuses together the three fundamental pillars of Slovak life; the family, nature and homeland. Her prose is innovative and highly critical not only of the backwards, conservative elements of village society, but also of the contemporary intelligentsia. Jozef Gregor Tajovský carries on the tradition of Martin Kukučín in his depictions of the village, but he treats it as more than just an idyllic environment and deals with the issues of poverty and social inequality. Janko Jesenský is influenced by the authors of Slovak Modernism, and modernist tendencies permeate all of his works. He concentrates on psychological studies and on the theme of betrayal of one’s country. In addition to the traditional village setting, Jesenský introduces the setting of a small town.
The end of the First World War brought dramatic changes to Slovak society, and as a consequence, to Slovak literature. When the Austro-Hungarian Empire crumbled, the Czechoslovak Republic was formed. As a result, Slovak cultural and social life began to develop at a rapid pace – a university was founded, the Slovak Foundation (Matica Slovenská) was reinstated, various cultural and literary periodicals were published, theatrical productions took off and new publishing houses were established.
The formation of the republic also brought about a pronounced shift in literature. Writers began to confront and embrace European literature, absorbing the influence of other cultures. Unfortunately, a changing social structure resulted in a significant widening of the gap between the country’s rich and poor, which many authors sought to address in their work.
Although the last vestiges of Realism were still present during the 1920s, the works of many authors already reflected the new socio-political situation. Elements of Naturalism, which found their way from France, started to appear. That trend was especially pronounced in the writing of Ladislav Nadaši-Jége (1866–1940). His works feature faith in reason and rationalism, as well as a biological understanding of man (a person’s actions are influenced by instinct and passions, and only the strong individual is able to control them through reason). Scepticism, which was more typical of the following period, is also present in his writing.
Alongside the older generation, a new literary generation appeared, including Gejza Vámoš (1901–1956), whose work oscillates between the view of man as an imperfect being and man as the measure of all things; Ján Hrušovský (1892–1975), whose best-known novel deals with the main character’s loss of humanity and empathy for his fellow man brought about by the horrors of war; and Tido Jozef Gašpar (1893–1972), who is distinguished by his striking literary aestheticism.
Jozef Cíger Hronský (1896–1960) earned special distinction during this era. His early writing is dominated by the classical view of the village while his later works become more lyrical and Expressionistic. Milo Urban (1904–1982) is a similarly noteworthy author, who radically changes the image of the Slovak village and explores the nature of man in society.
The inclusion of lyrical passages in prose texts, such as impressionistic description of nature, was very typical of Slovak literature of the time. Authors began to discover the natural, instinctual nature of man, who is connected with the circle of life, natural laws and the elements. The village once again became a favourite setting, which is, in contrast to the city, more closely connected with nature.
The most outstanding representatives of the lyricised prose movement include: Ľudo Ondrejov (1901–1962), who especially in his early works accurately captures the basic tendencies of naturism – the interconnectedness of man and village, the opposition of village and city, love, family ties and biological determinism; Dobroslav Chrobák (1907–1951), whose short stories are the perfect example of naturist prose; Margita Figuli (1909–1995), who introduces into literature powerful love motifs and the associated demand for women’s right to freedom of emotional experience; and František Švantner (1912–1950), who is the major author of this period. Man in his work is often separated from civilisation but closely connected to nature and his own instincts.
The beginning of the Second World War was accompanied by the creation of an independent Slovak Republic, which was, however, controlled by Germany. This political situation was very apparent in Slovak literature. The end of the war brought an element of pluralism into Slovak literature and culture, but this was snuffed out soon after 1948, when the Communist Party came to power. The 1950s were a time of strict censorship. The government shut down many literary journals. The Czechoslovak Writers Union was formed, and it took control of publishing. Only writers who officially accepted Socialist Realism as the only valid creative approach were allowed to become members. The hallmark of this period was a class-based worldview and a division of society into ‘the good’ and ‘the bad’ as dictated by Marxist-Leninist propaganda.
It was only at the end of the 1950s and the beginning of the 1960s, once again stemming from political changes – the deaths of Stalin and the Czechoslovak president Klement Gottwald – that literature experienced a slight thaw. Works critical of the political establishment, such as those by Dominik Tatarka and Ladislav Mňačko, started to appear along with works indicating an interest in the literary scene abroad, especially in Western Europe. At the beginning of the 1960s a vibrant new generation of authors began to write, their works often appearing in the journal Mladá tvorba. Literary critics later named this group Generation 56, or the Mladá tvorba Generation.
On 21 August 1968 Warsaw Pact troops invaded Czechoslovakia under the guise of ‘protecting’ the country from a coup. In the ensuing years Slovak culture experienced a period of censorship and oppression with some authors fleeing abroad. Once again, many literary journals, including Mladá tvorba, were shut down. Writers who actively participated in the revolutionary movement of 1968, the so-called Prague Spring, were ousted from the Writers Union, and they were prevented from publishing. Despite the difficult climate, many good prose works were published in Slovakia during the 1970s and 1980s.
The next political change took place in 1989, transforming the face of Slovak literature to this day. The Velvet Revolution brought to a close the Communist Party’s leadership and the various prohibitions and mandates it enforced, and literature was once again allowed to follow a course of pluralistic development. Writers returned from exile, new publishing houses emerged, with some of them focusing on original Slovak writing, former literary journals were re-established and new ones started up, while nationwide literary competitions were organised. Established authors continued to write, but a new generation of authors began to influence Slovak literature.
The works of many of the representatives of that younger generation featured postmodern elements. In other works there was a return to traditional storytelling, enriched by elements of magical realism and mysticism. Much more so than in prior periods, female authors received literary acclaim, with some of their works having a feminist orientation.
Contemporary literature is very difficult to define from a thematic standpoint, but certain themes such as loneliness, lack of communication, the non-existence and impossibility of relationships, do arise repeatedly. On rare occasions there are works with a social theme, reflecting the state of contemporary society, or the history and development of Slovak and European society. Despite the fact that Slovak literature had a much weaker ‘starting position’ than other, stronger world literatures, we can now say with confidence that it has overcome its initial handicap and has become an equal partner with other European literatures.
Peter Karpinský
Tinker’s Christmas
Martin Kukučín, born Michal Bencúr
(17. 5. 1860 Jasenová – 21. 5. 1928 Pakrac pri Lipiku, Croatia)
Translated by Denis Dobrovoda
Martin Kukučín was born in Jasenová. After finishing secondary education, he trained to be a teacher. However, he decided to pursue a career in medicine and graduated from Charles University in Prague. He was unable to find employment in Slovakia and ended up working on the Croatian island of Brač, which was part of Hungary at the time. In 1908 he emigrated to Chile for political reasons. After the establishment of Czechoslovakia in 1918 he decided to return, and came back to Slovakia in 1922. In 1926 he relocated to a spa town in Croatia, mainly because of his wife’s ill-health. Two years later he died of pneumonia.
Kukučín wrote a number of novels, novellas, short stories and plays. His early work was strongly influenced by Hungarian and German Romanticism, but his later writing was strictly realist, with a notable focus on village and peasant themes. His writing oscillate between two extremes – on the one hand grotesque and didactic works (for example The Russet Heifer), and on the other hand serious, often tragic works about the difficult social and political situation of Slovaks in Hungary. Somewhere in between these extremes lie his tragicomic works, in which he used satire to emphasise the sad reality of contemporary life.
The Unawaken, perhaps Kukučín’s most famous work, is considered one of the best examples of realism in Slovak literature. The story describes a confrontation between a helpless, mentally-retarded young man, Ondráš, and the cruel and intolerant environment of the village he lives in.
In Tinker’s Christmas, a short story published in 1888, Kukučín dealt with the worsening position of Slovaks in contemporary Hungary. He described the phenomenon of forced relocation of Slovak children, which can be seen as a metaphor for the suffering of the whole nation. The relocation was in accordance with the government’s policy of Hungarisation, which was designed to increase the number of Hungarian speakers and suppress the usage of other languages that were spoken in the Austrian-Hungarian Empire.
Tinker’s Christmas
Martin Kukučín
The earth put on a white cloak, and the fresh snow glittered in the afternoon sun, blinding one’s eyes. The main road had lost its former liveliness; carriages were resting in their sheds. There was no reason to take them out into God’s light. Farmers had already finished working in their fields, and if they needed to do something in the city, they usually just walked there. All in all, carriages had lost their appeal because the nobles had discovered sleighs. It was clear that sleighs weren’t meant for farmers; they were meant for the nobility, so that they could be drawn down the road by their horses accompanied by the sound of jingling bells.
Well, winter had arrived with all its beauties. The green forests were sprinkled with snow and rime – a charming sight, which resembled a bride wearing a myrtle wreath covered with a fine white veil. The road and the fields were furrowed with banks of snow which hid the shy game from the weapons of cruel hunters. Yes, winter… I am not going to spend any more time describing it. He who has never experienced a winter in the mountains will not believe me, while he who has would be bored by my description. Hence my effort would be futile.
Ďurko Loboda was walking down the road cheerfully. His final destination was the village that stretched out in front of him. It lay on the bottom of a deep valley, like in a grave. Mountains, dressed in an exquisite robe of firs and rime, towered above it from all sides. Their bald tops, covered in heaps of snow, fearlessly rose towards the blue sky. A stream ran down the valley, fast and clear, like the minds of those that had built their modest houses around it. There weren’t many fields, but the whole horizon, and the vicinity of the village too, was covered with trees which were sighing under the weight of the snow. In the spring, when the valley bloomed and came to life thanks to the singing of its people, one would think it was a forgotten piece of paradise here on mother earth.
A small church, white and clean with a low tower, watched over the village. Ďurko Loboda was moved to tears at the sight of it. He crossed himself and his lips trembled with a prayer, which he had learnt as a child.
‘Thank God our village is still standing!’ Ďurko sighed, and his chest widened with incredible pleasure.
‘This Ďurko Loboda has to be some kind of buffoon,’ some of my readers might remark, ‘surely a village cannot just disappear in such a short period of time. Was he scared that Riečany would fall down?’
But Ďurko Loboda was not a buffoon. It was just that when he saw his village, he couldn’t help but shout: ‘Thank God our village is still standing!’
We shouldn’t be surprised by that. No one taught him to hide his emotions, to cry when he felt like laughing, or laugh when he felt like crying. He wore his heart on his sleeve. And when he once again saw the village he had left in the spring, he was joyous. Soon after the trees had turned green and the snow disappeared from the fields, he had put on his rucksack and left ‘to go out into the world’. His wife and his eight-year-old son walked with him to the neighbouring village, where they bade him farewell. He hadn’t seen them since; he just wandered from city to city and from village to village, only ever returning to them in his thoughts. Whenever he met some kind soul who could read and write he would ask him to write at least a few words on a postcard which he would then send to them.
