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A review by anca_m
Doruntine by Ismail Kadare
3.0
I think I've had Broken April on my to-read list for more than 5 years and for about the same amount of time I've had it on my bookshelves. Maybe it was for this reason that I was expecting to really like both the book and it's author, but it wasn't exactly my cup of tea. It felt wrong to dismiss Kadare after one short book though, especially since it's little likely that I'll read another Albanian classic anytime soon (or ever). Seeing Doruntine is a retelling of an old legend, I thought it wouldn't hurt to explore this part of the Albanian culture while I'm in the "area" and I'm glad I did.
Doruntine (or, Kostandin and Doruntine) was distinctly more entertaining and, although it had exactly the same number of dead people in it and about the same amount of talking about the dead as Broken April, less depressing. It reads like a novel of less literary merit - for about two thirds it's more of a detective story, with interviews, investigations, the detective speculating with his assistant and trying to end the rumors of a supernatural event circulating through the village. I loved the description of the Albanian people's willingness to accept the supernatural among them and particularly how the weepers couldn't be stopped from weaving legend into their funeral song. Captain Stresi's frustration with their complete ignorance of the reasonable explanation he offers amuses me even more so because I think their song is part of the reason he can't get the supernatural explanation of resurrection out of his head. And oh, Captain Stresi is a very proper man of the law, he won't easily accept every gossip circulating through the village!
Towards the end, when Stresi's beliefs become less rigid, the dreaded kanun (that was the central idea in Broken April) makes an appeareance - or, more precisely, it appears in its purest form - as an idea in the heads of Kostandin's friends. Stresi is quickly drawn to it, but I couldn't help shuddering a bit. I'll say it again, I don't like this law of the land. I'm glad, however, that I read Broken April first and knew some things about kanun beforehand - I don't think things would have clicked afterwards. I don't trust my brain, I probably wouldn't have realized I read about kanun's conception in Doruntine.
Doruntine (or, Kostandin and Doruntine) was distinctly more entertaining and, although it had exactly the same number of dead people in it and about the same amount of talking about the dead as Broken April, less depressing. It reads like a novel of less literary merit - for about two thirds it's more of a detective story, with interviews, investigations, the detective speculating with his assistant and trying to end the rumors of a supernatural event circulating through the village. I loved the description of the Albanian people's willingness to accept the supernatural among them and particularly how the weepers couldn't be stopped from weaving legend into their funeral song. Captain Stresi's frustration with their complete ignorance of the reasonable explanation he offers amuses me even more so because I think their song is part of the reason he can't get the supernatural explanation of resurrection out of his head. And oh, Captain Stresi is a very proper man of the law, he won't easily accept every gossip circulating through the village!
Towards the end, when Stresi's beliefs become less rigid, the dreaded kanun (that was the central idea in Broken April) makes an appeareance - or, more precisely, it appears in its purest form - as an idea in the heads of Kostandin's friends. Stresi is quickly drawn to it, but I couldn't help shuddering a bit. I'll say it again, I don't like this law of the land. I'm glad, however, that I read Broken April first and knew some things about kanun beforehand - I don't think things would have clicked afterwards. I don't trust my brain, I probably wouldn't have realized I read about kanun's conception in Doruntine.