Monday, April 4, 2011

Bait, Art, Holocaust

I just wanted to post some links that could help us place Albahari's Bait in context as a specific literary response to the Holocaust, as well as the Yugoslav wars in the 1990s. It may be helpful to continue the discussion on silence, representation and its limits when it comes to historical traumas, whose scale, as it has been often argued, exceeds the grasp of both reason and imagination. Yet, despite this claim, artists and writers keep dealing with this topic in various ways.

Albahari was supposed by very influenced by Art Spiegelman's Maus. Here is an interview with Spiegelman where he explains how he came up with the idea for the graphic novel. 

Another interesting personality from the "world of arts" is Christian Boltanski, who acquired international recognition for his installations that feature doctored photographs of children, producing a haunting aura that has been termed by Dora Apel as "the Holocaust effect." The disturbing fact that documents related to Holocaust are easily reproducible and that our response to them is in many ways preconditioned, as abstract horror without any content or thought.


Christian Boltanski, Autel de Lycee Chases, 1989

Finally, I am posting a link on Yugoslav Partisan Memorials, many of which commemorated places where enormous crimes were committed on the fascist side. As you can see, may of the memorials were abstract and open to interpretation, in many ways in line with the "anti-monument"  aesthetic in Western Europe.


Monument Commemorating the Battle of the Sutjeska - Tjentište, Bosnia and Herzegovina

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Monday, March 28, 2011

Zograf, War, Balkans

Kelly, I think your post provokes some interesting questions for discussion tomorrow. First, it would be productive to focus on the form and genre. Mallory already mentioned the fragmentation and stream-of-consciousness effect in Zograf's comics. We are not getting a "realistic" narrative here, but rather a collection of thoughts, dreams, fragments of everyday life. Moreover, Zograf's drawing style is rather unique, surrealistic, playful, ironic, and at times very stark and "Kafkaesque," to use a literary analogy. He mobilizes pop culture and subculture references to estrange the Western reader/viewer who comes to this text with certain expectations and prejudices about the "the Balkans", "the Serbs" etc. For stylistic comparison, see R. Crumb and some other underground comic artists, such as Art Spiegelman, Chris Ware. This is definitely strategic on Zograf's part; but it is also part of his artistic genealogy, in the same way Shklovsky, Nabokov, and Brodsky are appropriated and quoted by Ugrešić in The Museum of Unconditional Surrender.


For example, Zograf comments on his form and genre explicitly in one of the comics: "...my stuff is not strictly 'documentary' ... it is some kind of fantastic realism, in a good Russian tradition... I think that the whole situation could be properly described by pointing at some peripheral details... in our life, we are always watching just fragments ... we have to use our imagination if we want to grasp the whole picture..." (54)
There's plenty of stuff to discuss in this one quote. How does Zograf achieve the documentary effect? I would argue in several ways: by indexing specific dates and using the explicitly autobiographical diary genre, by inserting fragments of "reality" (the dinar bills, NATO propaganda leaflets) etc. We saw this in other texts as well. We can also discuss the use of marginalia..."the peripheral details" which, as Zograf argues, can be more revealing than master narratives (compare to Jameson, who laments the grand narrative of History in postmodern age). What about the use of fantasy, dreams, urban legend and folklore? To what extent is popular culture a site of resistance, both against the ruling authoritarian regimes in the ex-Yugoslavia (which is also appropriating popular culture and folklore, think of Ugresic's Culture of Lies) and against neo-colonial dehumanization of peoples outside of the "West"?
This also feeds into Kelly's post about the power of images. I think there are few things we can discuss here. First, the fact of postmodern warfare. What I have in mind here is the appearance of  "imbedded" reporting, and televised images that shape our perception of the "enemy" on the ground, which is additionally connected to the whole mass media/military apparatus. It has become apparent that in such "humanitarian" interventions, "preemptive" wars, and wars against terrorism--such as the NATO bombing of Serbia, Kosovo (in the former category) and the war in Iraq and Afghanistan (in the latter)--the line between civilians, soldiers, and "enemy combatants" is very blurry, to say the least. Not to mention the line between civilian, military, and industrial infrastructure subjected to bombing. And since Western countries have vested interest in decreasing the number of domestic casualties, most of these wars have been waged from the air, or more recently, by combat drones (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/20/world/asia/20drones.html). Moreover, the media will often uncritically use the same terms as the military and the government to describe the situation. I have already mentioned some terms that have invaded our language about war: "humanitarian intervention", "preemptive strike", "shock and awe", "enemy combatant", "homeland security" etc. etc. All of this, I would argue, has changed our perception of war and its horrors, as well as the ways in which war is viewed, discussed, remembered or, more likely, forgotten. The fact is that we encounter these images most often out of context, disconnected from narratives of people on the ground. Since we have people to think strategically and technically about our wars, we, the citizens of countries involved in these wars, somehow don't have to think about it, (although we will have to pay for it in the long run). 
"Shock and Awe"

I agree with Kelly that images of horror are much less effective at times than pictures of people in wartime trying to maintain a sense of normalcy, dignity, or just trying to survive. After all, we live in an age (perhaps we've always lived in such an age) where representations of horror and violence--and shock in general--have become a mundane aesthetic experiences. Any thoughts?
To return to Zograf, I want us to briefly discuss the representation of the Serbian other, the Kosovo Albanians in this case. In what way does Zograf make room in his comics for the plight of Kosovo Albanians? How does his marginal position enable him to stay critical of the Milošević regime and at the same time condemn the NATO bombing? And to include the point of view of the other? Were you satisfied with this representation? I think this is important to discuss since many of the cultural ties between Kosovo Albanians and Serbs have been severed and revanchist feelings on both sides still haven't subdued, not only because of the fresh war traumas but also the ongoing territorial disputes, questions of sovereignty.  Recently, the younger generation of Serbian and Kosovo writers have been trying to reestablish connections by translating short stories, which I see as a positive, if not a radical move towards some sort of dialogue and understanding of the trauma of the other: http://www.seecult.org/vest/iz-beograda-s-ljubavlju-na-albanskom (text in BCS).

As Arendt has argued, birth--broadly considered--represents one of the most monumental political events, the fact that space is made in the world for a new, unique individual, or collectively speaking, a new generation of people. What we are seeing in the Balkans--and elsewhere--is that nationalistic war and authoritarian rule have deprived a whole generation of people of their future. Now they're trying to regain it, even though they are inevitably stuck with the traumas, guilt, and burdens of the previous generation which they must confront whether they like it or not. 

Here is a more recent comic by Zograf on this theme (part of his weekly contribution to the Serbian magazine, Vreme; translation follows) :
The Horror of Growing Up: Cap1: "As mature persons, it is hard for us to understand why during our early childhood the universe sometimes brought us to tears... What was the reason for this infantile pain in the face of our existence? I thought about this while sorting through photographs which I acquired at the flea-market..." Cap 2:  "In fact, it is perhaps understandable that the gentle soul of a child will be surprised when faced with the circumstances that govern physical reality. It can be a real challenge if--let's say--you were destined to grow up among moustachioed Montenegrins, some of which may even be armed."  

Cap3 : "In the end, you somehow come to the conclusion that it is completely natural for a youngster to be spellbound when confronted with a world that is about to plop down on your  feeble shoulders... Maybe we would bawl even more and even louder, if we only knew that we'd grow into all those boring, "serious" people..."


Sunday, March 27, 2011

My Perestroika

Looks like a really interesting documentary for those interested. It deals with the Soviet collapse, not Yugoslavia, but nevertheless...

http://www.npr.org/2011/03/24/134764986/my-perestroika-revolutions-children-20-years-on

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Zograf and Images

In light of the podcast we listened to for Sarajevo Blues, I have been reading Zograf and thinking a lot about this idea of the power of images that Sontag discusses. In the podcast, Sontag mentions Jeff Wall's piece as having the power to make the viewer continuously horrified and shocked--that the viewer does not automatically revert to the cliched image of war.
While I think that she makes a valid point, it's interesting to think about her argument juxtaposed against Zograf's work. Can't Zograf's drawings, these comics, just as effectively create "a narration that can continue to startle us," and remind us that human beings are capable of doing just about anything to each other?
For me, the answer is yes, and in some says Zograf's work is, in fact, far more startling to me than Wall's piece. Who is to say that a repulsive image of blood and guts and gore is more warranted in horrifying a viewer/reader than an extremely detailed, well-conceived, black and white drawing of a man on fire next to a grandmother holding a watering can?
I think it would be worth it to visit this question tomorrow, and ask ourselves what Zograf accomplishes with this genre of literature that, canonically, is represented in a, more often than not, opposite context.

Monday, March 21, 2011

sarajevo blues

In terms of discussion tomorrow, there are a couple of thematic questions that I think would be especially interesting to try and flush out. One would be the obvious influence of K in this collection and the questions of art escaping artifice, the triumph or downfall of literature juxtaposed against history, literature as embodying responsibility, and the manifestation of art in reality.

I think, also, we could have an interesting discussion regarding the issue of space, especially in light of Michael's presentation last Thursday. It seems to me that the author very deliberately presents a particular representation of space. I'm thinking of this image in terms of Sarajevo as a city under siege, but also as the city's inhabitants living, literally, helplessly under their attackers. In what ways does Mehmedinovic manipulate this issue of space in the narrative, and why?

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sarajevo Blues

I found this band from San Francisco called Charming Hostess who turned "Sarajevo Blues" into an album. They essentially took some of the passages and just set them to music, but it's an interesting way to hear Mehmedinovic's work.

http://charminghostess.us/listen.html


Also, here is a link to a Flickr page with pictures of "Sarajevo roses." They are concrete scars from mortar shell explosions that have been filled with red resin. I cannot imagine how many there must be around the city. Amazing how beautifully tragic these "roses" are:

http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=sarajevo+rose