Sehir mean look. Nothing like looking, observation is the book Orneli Vorpsi Hand, which is not kąsasz . This sequel to her debut novel Country, where we never die , and is another book in which Vorpsi, from the perspective of migrant examine themselves, their roots and their albańskość.
The book begins with a crackdown on travel by plane. And this trip, before which Vorpsi invariably feel fear is a kind of cell or unpleasant action that needs to be done to reach the desired position. This place where the author is often a family party. Hence probably the fear of flying, not so much from the mere fact that he flies, raising thousands of meters above the ground, unless, prior to going back to the past.
Vorpsi flies to Sarajevo, a city so very reminiscent of her homeland. He goes there for his friend who is depressed and needs help (or so it seems). It reads as Vorpsi friend problems, just as they are already in place in Sarajevo, she feels guilty about his escape, exile. This sense of guilt is trying to drown out the high-Tips, without resistance or pay large sums for services or assistance that shown by her friends from the old and the inhabitants of the city. Perhaps the guilt immigrant makes that she overcomes her fear and the feeling of guilt in relation to an abandoned country and the people who must live in it returns to the places of childhood. It seeks no explanation for it is only acquired through the European-exile, escape. hand, which is not kąsasz is a kind of confession, which aims to rid her of her guilt. Vivisection by which it may be able to find the source of their migration.
the other hand, the author's travels, are meant to help her escape from her reality, moving . Speaking I lose in the end something that can not be named, I'm anonymous for myself trying to distance itself from its origin. Tries not to notice the characteristic of the Balkan mentality, and their inhabitants, not admitting to it from itself. Journey-Escape is a kind of lid for Vorspi. Changing the environment is to change, and her, but unfortunately you can not hide its origins, especially when it is so visible, so ingrained and can be felt, the same author. It is also an attempt to find a place for himself - playing a lost immigrant, which was enough time to forget the past, surprises herself back in the homeland.
Hand, which is not kąsasz is a very short story, too short. Perhaps in the process of writing the book in the author said in a passion for photography, which led to the impression of photographic reporting. But presented with an unusual lightness of the story thus, you can easily imagine. The streets, which follow Vorpsi, views that he admires, a place visited by all in this humble the book is clear.
Personally, after reading the book feeling unsatisfied, despite these prominent names and some specific types of experiences in the course of reading I miss the sequel ... which I'm waiting.
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