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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 108-109 | volume  | July-August, 2016



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                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 108-109July-August, 2016
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LEJLA KALAMUJIĆ’S THREE ESTEBANS

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p. 1
Mehmed Begić

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LEJLA KALAMUJIĆ’S THREE ESTEBANS

Translated from Bosnian by: Elizabeta Bakovska

   The first thing that crossed my mind after I had read the last story and closed Lejla Kalamujić's book is the question from her opening story. I said it out loud: “Why do I need a typewriter?” Then I asked myself which typewriter should I think of when I ask myself that question? My mother’s typewriter, my love’s one, psychiatry’s, the one of the woman-poet whom I had left long ago… Each one of them had soaked in itself numberless stories. And it would gladly tell them all. My typewriter has been watching me from the highest shelf of my closet for years now and seems as if asking: “Why have you dragged me all the way to Nicaragua so I finish here, after everything that we’ve been through…” Have those typewriters become our mute witnesses? Are they the thing that I need after our past convinces the memories that it is enough and death has grown on our side and now it does not look so big… And then, the times come to spill on the paper the darkest thing, at least a story on anybody and on anything. And I catch myself reading with ease about those hardest moments that Lejla Kalamujić described. The power of contrasts leaves me breathless.
      
    There is music for everything that is important to me. It is stronger than me. It clicks itself before I even understand that I might have had the right to vote. Reading Lejla Kalamujić’s “Esteban” I heard Nina Simone. It was not a specific song. It is even possible that it was a song that I had never heard before, which many would say did not exist, but the voice, that voice, it was definitely hers, Nina’s voice. Even when Lejla would take me to Almodovar, and when I remembered Marquez’s Esteban, when I read what only Elizabeth Bishop should have read, Lejla’s father’s pigeons still fly on the sky above her family house and I hear: “Freedom is mine, you know I feel… “, and then with the arrival of the falcons, the music changes. However, the voice remains the same, from the first to the last story, from the first to the last letter of the book.
      
    I surrendered to Lejla's world and the stories through which she gives it to us without any






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