by Ivo Andrić
beensaidhereinafewlinesandwhathadinfacttakenplaceinafewmonths.
Notevenindreamsdidfrontierschangesoquicklyorgosofaraway.
All that had lain quiescent in men, as ancient as that bridge and equally dumb
andmotionless,nowsuddenlycamealiveandbegantoinfluencetheireveryday
life,theirgeneralmoodandthepersonalfateofeveryindividual.
Thefirstsummerdaysof1913wererainyandoppressive.Onthe kapia byday
sat the Moslems of the town, morose and disconsolate, about a dozen elderly
men grouped around a younger one who read to them from the newspapers,
interpreting foreign expressions and unusual names and explaining the
geography.Allsmokedpeacefullyandgazedunwaveringlyinfrontofthembut
could not completely conceal that they were anxious and shaken. Hiding their
emotion,theybentoverthemapwhichshowedthefuturepartitionoftheBalkan
Peninsula.Theylookedatthepaperandsawnothinginthosecurvinglines,but
theyknewandunderstoodeverything,fortheirgeographywasintheirbloodand
theyfeltbiologicallytheirpictureoftheworld.
'WhowillgetUskub(Skoplje)?'askedoneoldman,apparentlyindifferently,to
theyouthwhowasreading.
'Serbia.'
'Uh!'
'AndwhowillgetSalonica?'
'Greece.'
'Uh!Uh!'
'AndJedrene?'askedanotherinalowvoice.
'Bulgaria,probably.'
'Uh!Uh!Uh!'
Thesewerenotloudandmournfulwailings,likewomenorweaklings,butdeep
andstifledsighswhichwerelostwiththetobaccosmokewhichdriftedthrough
their moustaches into the summer air. Many of these old men had passed their seventieth year. In their childhood, the Turkish power had stretched from the
LikaandtheKordunrighttoStambulandfromStambultotheuncertaindesert
frontiersoffaroffandillimitableArabia(thatTurkishpowerhadbeenthegreat,
indivisible and indestructible unity of the Moslem faith, all that part of the
terrestrial globe where the muezzin called the faithful to prayer). They
rememberedthatwell,buttheyalsorememberedhow,lateron,inthecourseof
theirlives,thatTurkishpowerhadwithdrawnfromSerbiaintoBosniaandthen
from Bosnia into the Sanjak. And now, now they lived to see that power like
somefantasticoceantidesuddenlywithdrawandpassawaysomewherefarout
ofsight,whiletheyremainedhere,deceivedandmenaced,likeseaweedondry
land,lefttotheirowndevicesandtheirownevilfate.AllthiscamefromGod
andwas,withoutdoubt,envisagedintheordinancesofGod,butitwashardfor
men to understand; their breath came short, their consciousness was troubled,
theyfeltasifthesolidearthwasbeingdrawnirresistiblyawayfromundertheir
feet as if it were a carpet, and how frontiers which should have been firm and
lastinghadbecomefluidandshifting,movingawayandlostinthedistancelike
thecapriciousrivuletsofspring.
With such thoughts and feelings the old men sat on the kapia and listened vaguelytoallthatthenewspaperswrote.Theylistenedsilentlythoughthewords
in which the papers spoke of kingdoms and states seemed to them mad,
impudent and out of place, and their whole manner of writing as something
godless, contrary to the eternal laws and the logic of life, something which
would'getnobetter'andwithwhichnodecentorhonourablemancouldbecome
reconciled.Abovetheirheadsfloatedcloudsoftobaccosmoke,andintheskies
cruisedwhite,fleecycloudsofarainysummer,castingquickbroadshadowson
theearth.
At night on the kapia youths from the Serbian houses sat till the small hours, singing loudly and provocatively the song about the Serbian gun and no one
cametofineorpunishthem.Amongstthemcouldoftenbenoticedstudentsfrom
the universities or secondary schools. They were mostly thin, pale youths with
longhairandblackshallowhatswithwidebrims.Thatautumntheycamevery
often,thoughtheschoolyearhadalreadycommenced.Theycamebytrainfrom
Sarajevo with instructions and recommendations, passed the night here on
the kapia, butwerenolongerinthetownatdawnnextdayfortheyoungmenof
VišegradsentthemonbyundergroundroutestoSerbia.
With the summer months, at the time of the school holidays, the town and
the kapia became lively with schoolboys and students, born in the town and returningtotheirhomes.Theyinfluencedthewholelifeofthetown.
At the end of June a group of students from the Sarajevo secondary school
arrived in the town and in the first half of July students of law, medicine and
philosophyfromtheUniversitiesofVienna,Prague,GrazandZagreb,beganto
arriveonebyone.Withtheirarrivaleventheoutwardaspectofthetownbegan
to change. Their young faces could be seen in the marketplace and on
the kapia andtheywereeasilydistinguishablebytheirbearing,theirspeechand
their clothes from the established customs and unchanging clothing of the
townspeople.Theyworeclothesofdullcoloursandthelatestcut.Thiswasthe
'Glôckenfaçon'thenconsideredtheheightoffashionandthebestoftasteinall
Central Europe. On their heads they wore soft Panama hats with turned down
brims and ribbons of six different but discreet colours; on their feet wide
American shoes with sharply turned up toes. Most of them carried very thick
bamboocanesandinthelapelsoftheircoatstheyworemetalSokolbadgesor
thoseofsomestudentorganization.
Thestudentsbroughtwiththemnewwordsandjokes,newdancesfromtheballs
ofthepreviouswinter,andespeciallynewbooksandpamphlets,Serbian,Czech
andGerman.
It had happened earlier too, in the first years of the Austrian occupation, that
youngmenfromthetownhadgoneawaytostudy,butnotinsuchlargenumbers
norinspiredbythissortofspirit.Inthosefirstfewdecadesafewofthemhad
finishedattheTeachers'TrainingCollegeatSarajevo,andtwoorthreehadeven
read philosophy at Vienna, but these had been rare exceptions, modest youths
whohadpassedtheirexaminationsquietlyandwithoutadvertisementandonce
theirstudieshadbeencompletedhadbeenlostinthegreyandcountlessranksof
the state bureaucracy. But for some time past the number of students from the
town had suddenly increased. By the help of national cultural institutions even
peasants'sonsandthechildrenofpettyartisanswenttotheuniversity.Thespirit
andcharacterofthestudentsthemselveschanged.
These were no longer those onetime students of the first years after the
occupation,mildandtimidyouthsdevotedtotheirstudiesintheclosestsenseof
theword.Butneitherweretheytheordinarytowndandiesandgoodfellowsofan
earliertime,futurelandownersandshopkeeperswhoatacertainperiodintheir
young men, educated in various cities and states and under various influences.
From the great cities, from the universities and schools which they attended,
theseyoungmencamebackintoxicatedwiththatfeelingofproudaudacitywith
which his first and incomplete knowledge fills a young man, and carried away
byideasabouttherightsofpeoplestofreedomandofindividualstoenjoyment
and dignity. With every summer vacation they brought back with them free-
thinkingviewsonsocialandreligiousquestionsandanenthusiasticallyrevived
nationalism which recently, especially after the Serbian victories in the Balkan
wars, had grown to a universal conviction and, in many of these youths, to a
fanaticaldesireforactionandpersonalsacrifice.
The kapia was the main scene of their meetings. They would meet there after supper.Inthedarkness,underthestarsorinthemoonlight,abovetheboisterous
river,echoedtheirsongs,jests,noisyconversationandendlessarguments,new,
bold,naïve,sincereandunself-conscious.
Withthestudentswerealsotheirchildhoodfriendswhohadstudiedwiththemin
thelocalelementaryschool,buthadremainedinthetownasapprentices,shop
assistants or clerks in the municipal offices. There were two types. Some were
satisfied with their destiny and the life of the town in which they would pass
theirdays.Theylookedwithcuriosityandsympathyattheireducatedcomrades,
admired them and never thought of comparing themselves with them, and,
withouttheslightestjealousy,followedtheirdevelopmentandtheircareer.There
were others who were dissatisfied with life in the town to which they were
condemned by force of circumstances and who longed for something that they
consideredhigherandbetterandwhichhadescapedthem,becomingeveryday
farther away and more inaccessible. Though they used to meet together with
their student comrades, these youths usually kept apart from their educated
fellowseitherbysomecrudeformofironyorbytheirunfriendlysilence.They
could not take part as equals in their conversations.'Therefore, constantly
tormented by their feeling of inferiority, they now exaggerated and stressed in
conversation their crudeness and ignorance by comparison with their more
fortunatecomradesor,fromtheheightoftheirignorance,mockedatallthatthey
could not understand. In either case, envy breathed out of them as an almost
visibleandtangibleforce.Butyoutheasilybearswitheventheworstinstincts,
andlivesandmovesfreelyandeasilyamongstthem.
Therehadbeenandtherewouldbeagainstarlightnightsonthe kapia and rich
constellations and moonlight, but there had never been, and God alone knows
whethertherewouldbeagain,suchyoungmenwhoinsuchconversationsand
with such feelings and ideas would keep vigil on the kapia. That was a generation of rebel angels, in that short moment while they still had all the
power and all the rights of angels and also the flaming pride of rebels. These
sons of peasants, traders or artisans from a remote Bosnian township had
obtainedfromfate,withoutanyspecialeffortoftheirown,afreeentryintothe
world and the great illusion of freedom. With their inborn small-town
characteristics,theywentoutintotheworld,chosemoreorlessforthemselves
and according to their own inclinations, momentary moods or the whims of
chance, the subject of their studies, the nature of their entertainments and the
circleoftheirfriendsandacquaintances.Forthemostparttheywereunable,or
didnotknowhow,toseizeandmakeuseofwhattheysucceededinseeing,but
therewasnotoneofthemwhodidnothavethefeelingthathecouldtakewhat
hewishedandthatallthathetookwashis.Life(thatwordcameupveryoftenin
theirconversations,asitdidintheliteratureandpoliticsofthetime,whenitwas
always written with a capital letter), Life stood before them as an object, as a
fieldofactionfortheirliberatedsenses,fortheirintellectualcuriosityandtheir
sentimental exploits, which knew no limits. All roads were open to them,
onward to infinity; on most of those roads they would never even set foot, but
nonethelesstheintoxicatinglustforlifelayinthefactthattheycould(intheory
at least) be free to choose which they would and dare to cross from one to the
other.Allthatothermen,otherraces,inothertimesandlands,hadachievedand
attained in the course of generations, through centuries of effort, at the cost of lives, of renunciations and of sacrifices greater and dearer than life, now lay
before them as a chance inheritance and a dangerous gift of fate. It seemed
fantastic and improbable but was none the less true; they could do with their
youth what they liked, and give their judgments freely and without restriction;
they dared to say what they liked and for many of them those words were the
sameasdeeds,satisfyingtheiratavisticneedforheroismandglory,violenceand
destruction, yet they did not entail any obligation to act nor any visible
responsibilityforwhathadbeensaid.Themostgiftedamongstthemdespisedall
thattheyshouldhavelearntandunderestimatedallthattheywereabletodo,but
they boasted of what they did not know and waxed enthusiastic at what was
beyondtheirpowerstoachieve.Itishardtoimagineamoredangerousmanner
of entering into life or a surer way towards exceptional deeds or total disaster.
Onlythebestandstrongestamongstthemthrewthemselvesintoactionwiththe
fanaticismoffakirsandwerethereburntuplikeflies,tobeimmediatelyhailed
by their fellows as martyrs and saints (for there is no generation without its
saints)andplacedonpedestalsasinaccessibleexamples.
Everyhumangeneration hasitsown illusionswithregard tocivilization;some believethattheyaretakingpartinitsupsurge,othersthattheyarewitnessesof
its extinction. In fact, it always both flames up and smoulders and is
extinguished, according to the place and the angle of view. This generation
which was now discussing philosophy, social and political questions on
the kapia underthestars,abovethewaters,wasricheronlyinillusions;inevery
otherwayitwassimilartoanyother.Ithadthefeelingbothoflightingthefirst
firesofonenewcivilizationandextinguishingthelastflickersofanotherwhich
wasburningout.Whatcouldespeciallybesaidofthemwasthattherehadnot
beenforalongtimepastagenerationwhichwithgreaterboldnesshaddreamed
and spoken about life, enjoyment and freedom and which had received less of
life,sufferedworse,la
bouredmorehardlyanddiedmoreoftenthanhadthisone.
Butinthosesummerdaysof1913allwasstillundetermined,unsure.Everything
appeared as an exciting new game on that ancient bridge, which shone in the
moonlightofthoseJulynights,clean,youngandunalterable,strongandlovely
initsperfection,strongerthanallthattimemightbringandmenimagineordo.
XIX
JustasonewarmsummernightinAugustislikeanother,sothediscussionsof
these schoolboys and students on the kapia were always the same or similar.
Immediately after a good supper hurriedly eaten (for the day had passed in
bathingandbaskinginthesun)theyarrivedonebyoneonthe kapia. Therewas
Janko Stiković, son of a tailor from Mejdan, who had already been studying
natural science at Graz for two years. He was a thin young man with sharp
featuresandsmoothblackhair,vain,sensitive,dissatisfiedwithhimselfbuteven
more with everyone about him. He read much and wrote articles under a pen-
namewhichwasalreadywellknowninrevolutionaryyouthpaperspublishedin
PragueandZagreb.Healsowrotepoemsandpublishedthemunderanotherpen-
name.Hewaspreparingabookofthemwhichwastobepublishedby Zora, the
NationalistEdition.Hewasalsoagoodspeakerandafierydebateratstudents'
meetings. Velimir Stevanović was a healthy, well-built youth, an adopted child
ofuncertainparentage;hewasironic,downtoearth,thriftyandindustrious;he
hadcompletedhismedicalstudiesatPrague.TherewasJacovHerak,sonofthe
good-natured and popular Višegrad postman, a small, dark law student, of
piercingeyesandswiftwords,asocialistofpolemicalspirit,whowasashamed
ofhiskindheartandconcealedeverytraceofemotion.RankoMihailovićwasa
taciturn and good-natured youth was was studying law at Zagreb and was
already thinking of a career as a civil seryant. He took little part and that half-heartedlyinhiscomrades'argumentsanddiscussionsonlove,politics,viewson
lifeandsocialconditions.Onhismother'ssidehewasthegreatgrandsonofthat
PopMihailowhosehead,withacigarstuckbetweenitslips,hadbeenputona