Oto Horvat: Sabo Je Stao

This young, contemporary author’s novel, written in a poetic style and without a typical plot, could well be conceptualized as some sort of collection of short stories. It consists of thematic segments, each of which is an independent whole. The only character, who is also the narrator, tells of the death of a loved spouse, and of his life after her death. The loss of her, is the simultaneous loss of half of himself. This work is emotional and deeply affective. According to statements made by the author, the novel is partially autobiographical. The work is a treasury full of numerous thoughts on life and death – in fact, death is seen as an integral part of life – the novel touches on love, loneliness, mourning, pain, sadness… The protagonist questions himself, his gnawing guilt, and above all else, we see the themes of remembering and unforgetfulness reigning supreme.

“The root of forgetfulness is unstoppable. The grains of pain stop the smooth uncoiling of the days; because of this, one rushes for hours into nothingness. It appears, from outside, that I am functional, but inside I am in ruins which are circled by black ravens. An archeologist attempting to reconstruct a bygone kingdom in vain.”

            Gripping, emotional…

            “I do not have to acknowledge it – I feel it with my whole body, full of thorns and thistles – the person who I love is now definitely imprisoned in the indestructible, glass cage of the past…”

            “Is that all for today, Mr. Sabo?” is the title of the book’s last chapter, which has no text. An empty page, a blank space, as if intended for us, the readers, to imagine the tale further and add to the story.

            Depart on a solitary walk, reader, and bring a quote from this book!

            “The crossing train tracks extend, winding directly in front of you. Some train tracks diverge, or they wind around each other, one into the other. Or, if seen from another perspective, they depart from each other’s paths, disappearing behind a curve in the road. In the empty space between two pairs of tracks, unused tracks lie in a pile, destitute. If you were to look at them carefully, if you were ready to do so, exactly as you are not capable of doing now, even though you yourself are in that photograph, I am sure that you would see on those tracks, in that pile, the dark stains of rust. Just as the dark stains of rust are spotted on the longer or shorter episodes of our individual lives, if we are ready to accept them, to acknowledge that they exist…”

            This book, whether a novel or collection of stories, is experienced as a touching ode to a deceased partner, an ode to love. It is read in a single breath, and often the reader finds themselves gripped by strong emotions.

            The author of this excellent literary work, Oto Horvat, was born in Novi Sad in 1967. He studied in Novi Sad, Hungary, and Germany. He lives in Florence. He is a poet, by profession, and has published several collections of poems. He translates poetry in Hungarian, German, and Italian, and often receives awards for his translations. This book is his first prose work and has been entered into the shortlist for the NIN award.

            A poem dedicated to Aleksandra Đajić Horvat

A Task

I went down to the hotel pool

While the alchemical workings of the sky came to their end

The water was dark

And the pine needles formed dense patterns.

I cast aside the towel which draped around me

And sought the net at the end of the long metal bar

That was my task

To clean the surface of the water, to see the bottom.