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This is an accusation, a slander, a personal insult. This is not a book, in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a continuous insult, a spit in the face of Art, a foot in the tur against God, Man, Fate, Time, Love, Beauty...whatever you want.
The novel represents a journey into an alternative world – a world that we all belong to from time to time, but of which we would not want to be a part, a world of paranoia and alienation that we are not entirely sure is just an alternative or the bare tr
As in Velikić's previous novels, the heroes weave analogous and often intertwined destinies of frustrated Central European citizens and intellectuals, the topography is very diverse, but also recognizable.
This is a biography about my father made up of memories and mere imagination. History does not exist, and neither do facts. The past is unknown.
This work, awarded the NIN Prize for that year, is considered one of the most significant in Serbian literature after World War II.
It is a deeply disturbing text, full of emotions and traumatic experiences of a collapsed, imploded urban individual crying out for the meaning of life.