- You'll save an extra 5% on Books purchased from Amazon.ca, now through July 29th. No code necessary, discount applied at checkout. Here's how (restrictions apply)
A Castle in Romagna Paperback – Jun 1 2005
Special Offers and Product Promotions
Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought
No Kindle device required. Download one of the Free Kindle apps to start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, and computer.
Getting the download link through email is temporarily not available. Please check back later.
To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number.
About the Author
Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)
A Bosnian refugee from Tito's war-torn efforts to separate from the USSR, is touring an Italian Renaissance castle when he discovers his Franciscan guide is a fellow ex-patriot who left decades before.
As the monk takes the young narrator through the castle & the story of a hopeless love from hundreds of years ago, he also tells of his own tragic love for a Communist policeman's daughter in his homeland.
A rare treasure that will wrench your heart & linger in your soul. Outstanding!
This could easily have been the introductory sentence for Igor Stiks' A Castle in Romagna, an amazing novel that explores parallel stories from two different time periods. Both stories feature the theme of betrayal, by close companions, from the least expected sources.
It begins in Northern Italy in 1995 where three friends go to visit an ancient castle in Romagna. They are there to visit the castle because of the internment there, centuries before, of the poet Enzo Strecci. Before they can explore the ruins, one of them is delayed by a caretaker, who is fascinated that he comes from Bosnia, at the time a scene of frequent violence. As the other two go to explore, the Bosnian tries to politely escape from the talkative caretaker. But soon, the man reveals that he, too, is from Bosnia, and begins telling his own life story as well as the story of Enzo Strecci.
His story takes place when the schism occurred between General Tito and Josef Stalin. This led to Yugoslavia trying to become autonomous, with the result that eventually it divided into the complicated political region where Bosnia is located. The caretaker recounts how he barely escaped with his life from those convinced he was a Communist informer. He ends up, scarred and mutilated, in Italy. He describes his own connection with the castle while explaining how Strecci ended up at the same location during the Renaissance, and how it ended in Strecci's execution.
It's clear that at first the listener feels like he's missing out on exploring the ruins, but the story revealed soon becomes far more fascinating. The voice of the caretaker is witty and nostalgic, but he's not wasting anyone's time. He reveals only the relevant details in both accounts, which makes the novel move very quickly. The style is unusual but the essential meaning has almost a fairy-tale quality to it. While it's easy to predict what's going to happen, watching it unfold is thought- provoking because of the corelation of both accounts. The concepts of trust, vengeance, and betrayal are all classic story lines, but explored here in a way to remind the reader that often the danger lies closer to us than we may wish to realize. The fate of Strecci may be appropriate, but it's a poignant moment when all his former friends are called to testify against him to save their master. He realizes then the "logic of power."
I was fascinated by this book, as it's the first Croatian translation that I've read, and because the author is relatively young. He says a great deal about human nature with very few words, and he points at the blind spots most people have when it comes to reason. Historically, I never really understood the divide between Tito and Stalin and what it meant for the residents of Yugoslavia. This book may be difficult to find but worth the search, as it's a fascinating look at little-known time and place.
There are two narrators and three narratives in three separate time periods: Romagna, Italy in 1535, Romagna in 1995, and the Croatian island of Rab in 1948. The first speaker, an exiled Croat from war-torn Bosnia, has arrived at the ancient Castello Mardi for a tour with two female friends. The resident friar, Niccolò Darsa, makes a crude joke about the young man's homeland, and then apologizes, speaking perfect Croatian and offering to tell his own story and that of Renaissance literary giant Enzo Strecci, a guest of Francesco Mardi who was later imprisoned and executed. I feel like natural sympathy with Enzo, Niccolò says, "You won't believe it if I tell you that he was like you and me. No, you won't believe it. Just like you and me." It turns out that the old cleric is an ethnic Italian who lived on Rab until Yugolsav President Josip Broz Tito's split with Stalin shortly after World War II, which precipitated a period of repression and paranoia that saw innocent people turned in and executed for being Cominformist agents. So too did Enzo live in a tumultuous era, as the threat of invasion led to a fear of Habsburg spies lurking among Mardi's household and villages.
As Niccolò, a natural storyteller, recounts his own tale and dramatizes Enzo's, a stronger bond between the two Italians becomes evident: that of forbidden romance and its inevitable follies. The rash and stubborn behavior of senseless youths in love is made all the more foolhardy by a hostile political environment that threatens to crush everyone, victims and perpetrators alike, in its relentless crusade against "subversives." Leaders, acting emotionally, use their authority to carry out personal vendettas. Lives, time and again, are destroyed by love and war. The moral of the story is, conclusively, that humanity remains the same even as the perpetual march of history alters the superficial appearance of things.
Despite its weighty subject matter, "A Castle in Romagna" is a very short book of only 102 pages. It is nevertheless a slow start, due to tiks's fondness for rambling sentences that can easily make the reader lose track of the original topic. (Sample: "Maria thought quickly, clearly, and correctly, but, unfortunately, on an unsound foundation, that love needed to be fought for, and she took firm hold of the tail of Enzo's horse, which, it seemed, willingly allowed her to take it as it made its way toward Catarina.") Of course, the trouble with critiquing prose in a translation is that, no matter how skilled the translator, you are still not reading the original work. Nabokov once griped about reviewers who praise translated books for "reading smoothly," contending that one who does so is a mere "hack who has never read the original, and does not know its language, [and who] praises an imitation as readable because easy platitudes have replaced in it the intricacies of which he is unaware." That being said, however, another Croatian novel translated by Tomislav Kuzmanovic that I have also read, Zoran Feric's "The Death of the Little Match Girl," did not have this same issue of long-windedness, so I would assume it is indeed reflective of tiks's authentic voice. Which brings up yet another question: can one properly review a translated book if they are not familiar with the other work the translator has done? Food for thought. But as I said, as the suspense and emotional intensity of "A Castle in Romagna" increase, so does its readability until it finally starts to sail - dare I say it - smoothly.
Additional thought: "The Death of the Little Match Girl" is also set on Rab and deals with war and paranoia. Recurring themes in contemporary Croatian literature or is that too broad an assertion to make from two books? Hmmm.
* Review copy *