by Ivo Andrić
everyone present and his untiring and irresistible hospitality forced them all to
take heart. Then he went back to Peter's wife. The plum brandy had in fact
loosened the constriction in her throat. Now she was calmer and only gazed
pensivelyinfrontofher.Mihailowouldnotleaveherside,butwentontalking
toherastoachild,tellingherhowallthistoowouldpassandherPetercome
back from Sarajevo alive and well, and they would all go home again to their
houseatOkolište.
'IknowPeter.Iwasathischristening.Theytalkedaboutthatchristeningfora
long time. I remember it as if it had been today. 1 was a young man then, just ripeformarriage,whenIwentwithmyfather,whowaskumtoJanko'schildren,
tochristenthatPeterofyours.'
HetoldthetaleofthechristeningofPeterGatalwhicheveryonealreadyknew
butwhichinthesestrangehoursseemedasifnewtothem.
The men and women drew closer to listen, and in listening forgot their danger
andpaidnoattentiontothesoundofthegunsasoldMihailotoldhistale.
Inthegoodtimesofpeace,whenthefamousPopNikolawaspriestinthetown, JankoGatalofOkolište,aftermanyyearsofmarriageandawholesuccessionof
daughters,hadason.OnthefirstSundayafterthebirth,theybroughtthechildto
be christened and besides the joyous father and the kum, a number of relatives and neighbours came too. Even on the way down from Okolište they stopped
often and had a nip from the kum's big flat flask of plum brandy. When on crossing the bridge they came to the kapia, they sat down for a short rest and anothernip.Itwasacolddayinlateautumnandtherewasnocoffeemakeron
the kapia, norhadthetownTurkscometheretositanddrinkcoffee.Therefore
the people of Okolište sat down as if they were at home, opened their bags of
foodandbeganafreshflaskofplumbrandy.Toastingoneanothercordiallyand
eloquently, they forgot all about the baby and the priest who was to christen it
after the service. As in those days—the seventies of last century—there were
stillnobells,anddarednotbe,themerrypartydidnotnoticethepassingoftime
andthattheservicehadlongbeenfinished.Intheirconversations,whereinthey
boldly and at great length mingled the future of the baby with the past of its
parents, time had no longer any importance or any measure. Several times the
conscience of the kum smote him and he suggested that they should move on, buttheotherssilencedhim.
'Well, friends, let us eo and finish what we have to do, by the law and the
Christianfaith,'mutteredthe kum.
'Why the hurry, in God's name; no one in this parish has ever stayed
unchristened,'answeredtheothersandeachofferedhimadrinkfromhisflask.
Thefathertooatonetimetriedtohurrythemon,butintheendtheplumbrandy
silencedandreconciledthemall.Hiswifewhouptillthenhadbeenholdingthe
babyinherarmswhichwerebluefromcold,nowputitdownonthestoneseat
and wrapped it in a coloured shawl. The baby was as quiet as if it were in its cradle,nowsleeping,nowopeningitseyesinquisitivelyasiftotakepartinthe
generalgaiety('Onecanseethatheisatruetownsman,'saidthe kum. 'Heloves
goodcompanyandfun.').
'Yourhealth,Janko,'shoutedoneoftheneighbours.'Mayyoursonbeluckyand
live long. God grant that he do you honour among the Serbs in all good and
prosperity.Godgrantthat....'
'Howwoulditbeifwegotonwiththechristening?'interruptedthefather.
'Don't worry about the christening,' they all cried and once more passed round
theflaskofplumbrandy.
'Ragib Effendi Borovac has never been christened either, but you see what a
fellow he is; his horse bends under him,' shouted one of the neighbours amid
generallaughter.
Butiftimehadlostallmeaningforthemenonthe kapia, ithadnotdonesofor
Pop Nikola, who had till then been waiting in front of the church, but by this
time had grown angry. He wrapped his fox-skin cape about him and marched
downfromMejdanintothetown.Theresomeonetoldhimthatthemenwiththe
childwereonthe kapia. Hewenttheretogivethemagoodbrowbeating,ashe
well knew how, but they welcomed him with so much heartfelt and sincere
respect,withsuchsolemnexcusesandwarmwishesandgoodwordsthateven
PopNikola,whowasahardandsevereman,butarealtownsmanatheart,gave
wayandacceptedadrinkfromaflaskandsomesnacks.Hebentoverthebaby
andcalleditlittlebabynames,whilethechildlookedupcalmlyatthehugeface
withitsbigblueeyesandbroadreddishbeard.
Itwasnotquitetrue,astheysaid,thatthelittleonewaschristenedthenandthere
onthe kapia, butitistruethattheystayedtherealongtimetalking,drinkingand
proposingmanytoasts.Itwasnotuntillateintheafternoonthatthewholegay
company made its way up to Mejdan and the church was opened and
the kum, stutteringandunsureofhiswords,renouncedthedevilinthenameof
thenewtownsman.
'Itwassowechristened kum Peter,mayheremainsafeandsound.Hehasnow
passed his fortieth year and as you see has lacked for nothing,' old Mihailo
ended.
Everyone accepted another coffee and a glass of plum brandy, forgetting the
realityofthemomentwhichmightsweepthemallaway.Alltalkedmorefreely
andeasily.Somehowitnowseemedcleartothemthattherewereotherthingsin
life, more joyful and human things, than this darkness, fear and murderous
shooting.
Sothenightpassedandwithitlifewenton,filledwithdangerandsufferingbut
stillclear,unwaveringandtruetoitself.Ledonbyancientinheritedinstinctthey
brokeitupintomomentaryimpressionsandimmediateneeds,losingthemselves
completely in them. For only thus, living each moment separately and looking
neither forward nor back, could such a life be borne and a man keep himself
aliveinhopeofbetterdays.
Sothedaybroke.Thatmeantonlythattheartilleryfirebecamemoreintenseand the senseless and incomprehensible game of war continued. For in themselves
days no longer had either name or sense; time had lost all meaning and value.
Men knew only how to wait and to tremble. Save for that, words, work and
movementshadallbecomeautomatic.
So, or similarly, did men live in the steep quarters below the Fortress and at
Mejdan.
Below,inthemarketplaceitself,fewcitizenshadremained.Fromthefirstdayof
the war there had been an order that all shops must remain open so that the
soldiersinpassingcouldmakeminorpurchases,andevenmoretoprovetothe
citizens that the war was far away and presented no danger to the town. That
order had remained in force, no one knew why, even now during the
bombardment,buteveryonefoundsomegoodexcusetokeephisshopclosedfor
the greater part of the day. Those shops which were near the bridge and the
Stone Han, like those of Pavle Ranković and Alihodja, were closed all day for
theyweretooexposedtothebombardment.Sotoo,Lotte'shotelwascompletely
desertedandclosed,itsroofhadbeendamagedbyshell-fireandthewallspitted
withshrapnel.
Alihodjaonlycamedownfromhishouseonthehillonceortwiceadaytoseeif
everythingwereinorder,andthenreturnedhome.
Lotte and her whole family had left the hotel on the first day after the
bombardmentofthebridgebegan.TheycrossedtotheleftbankoftheDrinaand
tookrefugethereinalargenewTurkishhouse.Thehousewassomewayfrom
the road, sheltered in a hollow and surrounded by dense orchards from which
onlyitsredroofemerged.Itsownerwithallhisfamilyhadgonetothevillages.
Theyhadleftthehotelatdusk,whenasaruletherewasacompletelullinthe
bombardment. Of the staff, the only one who remained was the loyal and
unchanging Milan, an old bachelor but always immaculately turned out. For a
longtimepasttherehadbeennooneforhimtothrowoutofthehotel.Allthe
others,asoftenhappensinsuchcircumstances,hadfledassoonasthefirstshell
whistled over the town. As always, in this transplantation also, Lotte had
controlled and arranged everything, personally and without opposition. She
decidedwhatwasmostnecessaryandmostvaluabletotakewiththem,andwhat
to leave behind, what each should wear, who was to carry Deborah's crippled
and feeble-minded son, who was to look after Deborah herself, weeping and
sickly,andwhotakecareoftheportlyMina,whowasoutofhermindfromfear.
So, taking advantage of the darkness of the hot summer night, all of them—
Lotte,Deborah,ZahlerandMina—crossedthebridgewiththeirfewbelongings
and the sickly child on a pushcart, with their cases and bundles in their hands.
After thirty years the hotel was now for the first time completely closed and
remained without a living soul in it. Darkened, damaged by the shell-fire, it
alreadylookedlikearuin.Theytoo,assoonastheymadetheirfirststepsacross
the bridge, aged or weak, crippled or fat, bow-legged or unaccustomed to
walking, suddenly seemed like Jewish refugees who had been walking all the
roadsoftheworldinsearchofrefuge.
SotheycrossedtothefartherbankandcametothebigTurkishhousetospend
thenight.TheretooLottearrangedeverythingandputeverythinginorder,their
refugeeluggageandthemselves.Butwhenitwastimeforhertoliedowninthat
strangehalf-emptyroom,withoutherthingsandherpaperswithwhichshehad
spent her life, her heart failed her and for the first time since she had been
conscious of her own existence, her forces all at once gave way. Her scream
echoedthroughtheemptyTurkishhouse,somethingthatnoonehadeverheard
orsuspectedcouldexist.Lotte'sweepingwasterrible,heavyandstifledlikethat
ofaman,uncontrolledanduncontrollable.Thewholefamilywasovercomewith
astonishment. At first there was an almost religious silence and then a general
weeping and wailing. For them the breakdown of Aunt Lotte's forces was a
heavierblowthanthewaritselfandtheflightandthelossofhomeandproperty,
for with her it was possible to surmount and overcome everything but without
hertheycouldthinkofnothinganddonothing.
When the next day dawned, a brilliant summer day, filled with the singing of
birds,withrosycloudsandheavydew,insteadoftheonetimeLotte,whoupto
the day before had controlled the destinies of all her family, there remained
huddled on the floor a weak old Jewess who could not look after or care for
herself, who shivered from reasonless fear and who wept like a child, not
knowinghowtosayofwhatshewasafraidortellwhatitwasthatpainedher.
Then another miracle took place. That old, cumbersome, drowsy Zahler, who
even in his youth had never had a will of his own but had been content to let
Lotteguidehimasshedidalltherestofthefamily,whoinfacthadneverbeen
young,nowrevealedhimselfastherealheadofthefamily,withmuchwisdom
andresolution,capableofmakingthenecessarydecisionsandwithenoughforce
to put them into practice. He consoled and looked after his sister-in-law like a
sickchildandtookcareofeveryoneasshehaddonerightuptothedaybefore.
He went down into the town during a lull in the bombardment and brought
necessary food, goods and clothing from the deserted hotel. He found a doctor somewhere and brought him to the sick woman. The doctor diagnosed that the
sickoldwomanhadhadacompletenervousbreakdown,andsaidthatsheshould
be taken somewhere else as quickly as possible, outside the area of military
operations, and prescribed some drops. Zahler arranged with the military
authoritiestogetacartandtransportthewholefamilyfirsttoRogaticaandthen
to Sarajevo. It was only necessary to wait a day or two until Lotte was fit to
travel.ButLottelayasifparalytic,weptatthetopofhervoiceandmutteredin
herpicturesqueandmangledlanguagedisconnectedwordsofutterdesperation,
fear and repulsion. Deborah's unlucky child crawled around her on the bare
floor, looked inquisitively into his aunt's face and called to her with those
incomprehensible cries which Lotte had once understood so well and to which
shedidnotnowreply.Sherefusedtoeatanythingortoseeanyone.Shesuffered
terribly from strange hallucinations of purely physical suffering. Sometimes it
seemedtoherthattwoplanksbeneathhersuddenlyopenedlikeatrapdoorand
that she fell between them into an unknown abyss and that, save for her own
screams,therewasnothingtosaveherandsupporther.Atothertimesitseemed
toherthatshehadinsomewaybecomehuge,butlightandverystrong,asifshe
hadgiant'slegsandpowerfulwingsandranlikeanostrich,butwithstepslonger
thanfromVišegradtoSarajevo.Theseasandriverssplashedunderhertreadlike
puddles, and towns and villages cracked under her steps like gravel and glass.
That made her heart beat fiercely and her breath come in gasps. She did not
knowwherethatwingedracewouldtakehernorwhereitwouldstop,sheonly
knewthatshewasescapingfromthosedeceivingplankswhichopenedbeneath
herwiththespeedoflightning.Sheknewthatshetroddownandleftbehindher
a land in which it was not good to stay and that she stepped over villages and
greattownsinwhichmenliedandcheatedwithwordsandfigures.Whenthen-
words became involved and their figures entangled, they at once changed their
game,asaconjurorchangeshisscene,andcontrarytoallthathadbeensaidor
wasexpected,gunsandriflesadvancedwithother,newmenwithbloodshoteyes
with whom there could be no conversation, no compromise and no agreement.
Facedwiththisinvasionshewassuddenlynolongerapowerfulandgiantbird
that ran, but a weak, defenceless poor old woman on the hard floor. And these
peoplecameinhordes,inthousands,inmillions;theyshot,theycutthroats,they
drowned people, they destroyed without mercy or reason. One of them was
bending over her; she could not see his face but felt the point of his bayonet
pressedonthatspotwheretheribsseparateandapersonissoftest.
'Ah..a..a..a..aah!No,don't!Don't!'Lottewokewithashriekandtorepieces
outofthethingreyshawlthatcoveredher.
Thelittlecretinsquattedthere,leaningagainstthewall,andwatchedherwithhis
black eyes in which was more curiosity than fear or sympathy. Mina burst in
from the next room, reassured Lotte, wiped the cold sweat from her face and
gaveherwatertodrinkintowhichshecarefullynumberedthedropsofvalerian.
The long summer day over the green valley seemed endless, so that one could
notrememberwhenithaddawnedorbelievethatitwouldeverbedusk.Herein
the house, it was warm but not oppressive. Steps echoed in the house; other
citizenskeptarrivingfromthetownorsomesoldierorofficerwanderedabout.
There was food and fruit in abundance. Milan brewed coffee continually. It
mightallhaveseemedlikesomeextendedfestivalvisittothevillages,haditnot
been for Lotte's despairing scream which broke out from time to time and the
sullenthunderofthegunswhichsoundedinthatshelteredhollowlikehowlsof
rage which showed that all was not well with the world, that universal and
individualmisfortunewasnearerandgreaterthanitseemedinthewideserenity
oftheday.
ThatwaswhatwarhaddonetoLotte'shotelanditsoccupants.
PavleRanković'sshopwasalsoshut.OntheseconddayofthewarPavle,with
otherprominentSerbs,hadbeentakenasahostage.Someofthemwereatthe