Oziljci tisine.
Mihailovich, Vasa D.
Milisav Savic. Belgrade. Raska Skola. 1997. 259 pages. ID 52323852.
Milisav Savic (b. 1945) is the author of four books of short stories
and five novels and has edited many anthologies. Arriving on the
literary scene in the late 1960s, he has trod a consistent path from
within a provincial world of simple characters in their peculiar
ambience, wrought with minute concerns that turn out to be not so minute
after all. The author's intellectual curiosity compels him to probe
deeply into what makes his characters tick, thus enabling him to find
the kernel of each character hidden well inside. In the process he has
created several memorable stories and novels, as in Bugarska baraka
(Bulgarian Barracks), Mladici iz Raske (Young Men from Raska), and Hleb
i strah (Bread and Fear; see WLT 66:2, p. 373).
In his latest, relatively short novel Oziljci tisine (The Scars of
Silence), Savic intertwines the destinies of two prominent
representatives of Serbian literature of the twentieth century, Ivo
Andric and Milos Crnjanski, with that of a contemporary writer,
presumably the author himself. Andric was perhaps one of the most
secretive writers of our century, shrouding many aspects of his past,
including his ethnic origin, professional activities, and political
views. By contrast, Crnjanski was a rambunctious and outgoing character,
both in his private life and in his works. These facts serve the author
as a basis on which to reexamine his subjects' controversial
attitudes and their meaning. The question arises as to which of the two
was more correct. Savic intimates that they were both correct in their
own ways, compelled to follow the dictates of their inner makeup. In
this light, the reader begins to understand the demeanor of the
contemporary writer, in all his vicissitudes, indecision, and seeming
lack of a compass. In a word, a writer or an artist is not a robot, but
rather an unpredictable creature who will often surprise even himself.
In that sense, Oziljci tisine is a fascinating exercise in intellectual
probing.
That is only a part of the novel, however. The other aspect deals
with the syndrome of inner exile (both Andric and Crnjanski suffered
from it, Andric at home and Crnjanski in various parts of Europe and in
England), which in some ways parallels the mood of the young writer in
that he too sometimes feels adrift yet curiously always aware of his
mission. Other themes, as Miroljub Jokovic points out, include
loneliness, totalitarianism, the absence of a value system and freedom,
and intellectual engagement. All this is projected through the everyday
travails of the characters, making the potentially dry subject matter
come alive with a vibrant, though at times sad search for meaning and
mission. The seemingly simple but pithy language adds spice to the
story. One of the best features is the psychological probing into the
actions of even the most incongruous characters.
The novel is accompanied by a survey of critical opinion about Savic,
rounding out a portrait of him as a leading writer of the so-called
middle generation in contemporary Serbian fiction.
Vasa D. Mihailovich University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill