By Sasa Stanisic
For Aleksandar Krsmanovic, Grandpa Slavko’s tales endow lifestyles in Višegrad with a kaleidoscopic brilliance. associates, associates, and kinfolk previous and current tackle a mythic caliber; the River Drina classes via city just like the pulse of lifestyles itself. So while his grandfather dies without notice, Aleksandar gives you to hold at the culture. yet then infantrymen invade Višegrad—a city formerly subconscious of racial and non secular divides—and it’s not very important that Aleksandar is the simplest magician within the nonaligned states; all at once you will need to have the suitable final identify and to persuade the warriors that Asija, the Muslim woman who turns up in his condominium development, is his sister.
Alive with the magic of adolescence, the surreality of battle and exile, and the ability of language, each web page of this glittering novel thrums with the enjoyment of storytelling.
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Extra resources for How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone
There’s a quick guy in a railwayman’s uniform status in entrance of a educate, having a look directly forward, upright as a soldier: Grandpa Rafik. Grandpa Rafik, my mother’s father, died for stable many years ago—he drowned within the river Drina. I not often knew him, yet i will be able to be mindful one online game we performed, an easy online game. Grandpa Rafik might aspect to whatever and I’d say its identify, its colour, and the very first thing that happened to me approximately it. He’d aspect to his penknife, and I’d say: knife, grey, and railway engine. He’d aspect to a sparrow, and I’d say: chook, grey, and railway engine. Grandpa Rafik pointed throughout the window on the evening, and that i stated: goals, grey, and railway engine, and Grandpa tucked me up and stated: sleep an iron sleep. The time of my grey interval used to be the time of my visits to the attention expert, who clinically determined not anything other than that i may see issues too speedy, for example the series of little letters and massive letters on his wall chart. You’ll need to healing him of that by some means, Mrs. Krsmanović, acknowledged the attention expert, and he prescribed drops for her personal eyes, which have been continuously purple. i used to be very fearful of trains and railway engines at the moment. Grandpa Rafik had taken me to the disused railway tracks, he scratched flaking paint off the previous engine; you’ve damaged my middle, he whispered, rubbing the black paint among the hands of his arms. at the approach home—paving stone, grey, railway engine, my hand in his huge one, black with sharp scraps of peeling paint—I made up our minds to be great to railway trains, simply because now he had me apprehensive approximately my very own center. however it were decades seeing that any trains had gone through our city. many years later the 1st lady I enjoyed, Danijela along with her very lengthy hair who didn’t go back my love, confirmed me how foolish I’d been to guard my middle from being damaged by means of trains. Peeling scraps of paint and the grey video game are all I take into accout of Grandpa Rafik, until previous pictures count number as thoughts. And Grandpa Rafik is absent from our domestic quite often. even though usually and although effectively my relations prefer to speak about themselves and different households and the useless over espresso, Grandpa Rafik is particularly seldom pointed out. nobody ever seems on the espresso grounds in a cup and sighs: oh, Rafik, my Rafik, if basically you have been right here! nobody ever wonders what Grandpa Rafik could say approximately whatever, his identify isn’t spoken with both gratitude or disapproval. No lifeless individual should be much less alive than Grandpa Rafik. The useless are lonely sufficient within the earth the place they lie, so why will we go away even the reminiscence of Grandpa Rafik to be so lonely? mom comes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. She’s going to make sandwiches to take to paintings, she places butter and cheese at the desk. i glance at her face, looking out it for Grandpa Rafik’s face within the images. Mama, do you seem like Grandpa Rafik? I ask whilst she sits down on the desk and unwraps the bread. She cuts up tomatoes. I wait and ask the query back, and purely now does mom cease, knife blade on a tomato. what sort of grandpa used to be Grandpa Rafik? I ask back, why does nobody discuss him?