I read the last (and first) time nine years ago. How time passes, bringing experiences and impressions, expanding horizons, changing. Maybe it’s wrinkles on the face, but maybe it’s deeper slices in the brain. Time alone does not make it wiser in itself, but travel, the people met, the events, the books read, the good and bad things leave their mark. And then the wheel turns around, and again you read the book you’ve already read…
I once praised the writer for his ability to write differently than other Lithuanian writers. But maybe her works do not have Lithuanian melancholy, but the heroes hide Lithuanian anger, jealousy and grievance in themselves. And this is manifested in very ugly deeds. Maybe it’s necessary to make the story more juicy, maybe…
– Macerns. This is a unit of measurement, named in honor of our poet Justin Marcinkevich. Macernas as units measure the longing national sadness in literature. In other words, the macerna is a decibel of the victim’s cry full of pathos. The more macernas in the work – the higher the chance of receiving a state bonus.
It was good to read it again. And again liked it. (The only reproach is that I wanted Daniel Dalba to have had more conversations with his colleagues in his refuge. Not only with men, but also with women).
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