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The essays collected in this book reveal the origins and meanders of Sanja Lovrenčić's years-long search for the authentic character of Ivana Brlić Mažuranić.
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.
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 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.