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A fantastic read from the pen of a psychology graduate brings us a wealth of nostalgia and memories of the times when she grew up carefree on the streets of Lukavac, on the slopes of Doložaj, or in the spaces of the then-famous youth gathering places.
An intimate, generational and deeply personal women's story.
This is a deep, philosophical, and hilariously charming story about the war that memory and oblivion wage in our lives every day.
Regarding James Kelman's novel How Late It Was, How Late (1946), Janja Ciglar Žanić wrote in the Lexicon of Foreign Writers that it is a work of distinctive Beckettian mannerisms.
This is a book that teaches us how to marvel at the world again, a book that someone, in a bus or a room, will look at and think about, perhaps in some way, to add to it.
At the end of the eighties, Damir Uzunović traveled to Paris and stayed there for less than a year. He was twenty years old at the time, and that exile episode would be formative for the literature he would later write.