Goli Otok is a barren, uninhabited island off the coast of Croatia. In
the early 1950s, it was home to a notorious political prison. The novel flashbacks
to when the fictional ninety-year-old Vera was held on Goli Otok for refusing
to denounce her husband as an enemy of Josip Broz Tito's communist state. These
flashbacks are indeed powerful, but the novel is much more than a historical
account of those tragic events.
Instead, it focuses on the intergenerational relations between Vera; her
daughter, Nina; and her granddaughter, Gili. Along with her father, Gili sets
out to make a documentary of Vera’s return to the island. Their unlikely
journey reveals intertwined layers of familial love and betrayal that transcend
the travel tale, emphasizing the novel’s emphasis on the ability of family
members to remember, forgive, and to regain love across the generations.
The second half of the book, depicting the visit to the island and
containing the most traumatic flashbacks, is definitely better than the first
half, which makes one wonder why the story couldn’t have started with the
family’s arrival in Croatia.
Much of the narrative is told as the four characters travel through
rural Croatia. Anyone who has driven in Croatia knows that the roads are often
not in the best condition. They wind through the countryside and there are
speed traps in the picturesque villages. How could the characters navigate those
unfamiliar roads at night, in the rain, for hours, while Gili films her
documentary, turned around to face Vera and Nina in the backseat? That would be
uncomfortable and reckless, to say the least.
While Vera and Gili, and even Raphael, Gili’s father, are believable
characters, getting a grasp on Nina’s complex personality is difficult. She is
unevenly portrayed—sometimes coming close to the others, sometimes hiding for
years and years, sometimes being loving, sometimes running off by herself—making
it hard to relate to her.
The family members keep secrets from each other, leading to feelings of betrayal,
yet can one really say, at novel’s end, why those secrets were kept or what
they are?
Readers will find it implausible that elderly Vera, in her nineties, is
capable of climbing a steep mountain trail in the dark of night. That would be
a challenging task in the daylight for anyone.
And finally, although Grossman is known for his creative and expressive
literary style, and the translation of this novel is impeccable and faithful, one
questions his use of archaic phrases like:
“From both those breasts I suckled.”
Trivial things, it’s true, but I couldn’t dismiss them from my mind as I
read the book.
More Than I Love My Life was inspired by the true story of one of
the author’s longtime confidantes who was imprisoned and tortured on the
island. The novel, recognized in The
Financial Times as one of the ‘Best books of 2021: Fiction in translation’,
is bound to win other awards as well, but it failed to live up to my
expectations. Having been disappointed with this book, as well as with his
previous A
Horse Walks into a Bar, I will be less likely to read the next David
Grossman novel.
David Grossman is an acclaimed Israeli author of fiction,
nonfiction, and children's literature. His works have been translated into more
than forty languages. He is the recipient of many prizes including Israel’s
Sapir Prize, the French Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, the
Buxtehuder Bulle in Germany, and Rome's Premio per la Pace e l'Azione
Umanitaria. In October 2021, Grossman was the first Berman Literature Prize in
Sweden for his novel When Nina Knew/Life Plays With Me.
Jessica Cohen translates contemporary Israeli prose, poetry, and other creative work. She shared the 2017 Man Booker International Prize with David Grossman, for her translation of A Horse Walks into a Bar, and has translated works by major Israeli writers, including Amos Oz, Etgar Keret, Ronit Matalon and Nir Baram.
Originally published on The Times of Israel.
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