This is changed when he meets a talking cat in a gay nightclub, a scene where the book really curdled for me in its Bekim’s sloppy shift in mood and personality. First we meet Bekim, a young university whose life as a closeted Yugoslavian Muslim immigrant in Finland is characterized by misanthropy, isolation and random sex with men he meets in chartrooms, which is shown in the book’s opening and best scene where a fantasy is fulfilled and supplanted by boring reality. The story focuses on two time periods separated by only a few decades. I don’t say that out of bitter jealousy, but because the book I read blew me away by how unspecial and uninteresting it was: treading ground superior writers have done before, and with less skill and narrative flair. The first book I am referring too was Raphael Montes weak thriller Perfect Days, and this book, My Cat Yugoslavia by Pajtim Statovci might be worse than that. It is a fact that doesn’t bother me so much as it would have when I was younger, but of the two books I have read by authors younger than I am, neither have been what I’d call great (but both are writers outside of the United States, whose works have been translated and were born in 1990).
I am at that age where it is not so hard to find published books by writers who are younger than I am.
0 kommentar(er)
