Alena Fialová
Alena Fialová

7. 11. 2016

The great heroic themes which emerge from key moments in a nation’s history have been a subject for literary art since time immemorial, and in modern literature they are usually in the form of historical or social novels. These have depicted historical events with varying degrees of historical accuracy, in an attempt to describe the moral dilemmas of the time and gain insights into the thought processes of historical figures, or just to utilize well-known historical eras as an attractive backdrop against which a personal story can play out. The more recent these works, the more there is evidence of an attempt to demythologize, remove taboos and come up with a fresh new perspective on history, but also of a certain playfulness, fantasy and irony.

In recent times, the attractiveness of modern Czech, or Czechoslovak, history – particularly from the wartime or immediate postwar period – can also be seen in new films which deal with these themes in a more or less traditional way. One current example is the film Anthropoid, a co-production which depicts the most significant act of resistance in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich. However, the war has become an attractive subject for other film-makers in recent years: some of the most noteworthy examples are the magnificent Želary, Lidice, Bonds of Blood (Krev zmizelého) and Habermann’s Mill (Habermannův mlýn).

A poster for 'Anthropoid'.

A poster for ‘Anthropoid’.

If we return to the more multidimensional literary or prose form, we can observe certain “waves” of interest, in which great heroic moments in recent Czech history are depicted more frequently. In post-1989 literature, the strongest and most productive of these waves came at the start of the new millennium, whereas in more recent publications it has ebbed away.

There are several reasons why the literature of the new millennium focuses so often on the Nazi and Communist past: one of these is the distance in time from the events depicted, offering a detached and overarching view and a kind of “closure” after the fierce post-revolutionary years, which drew a firm line under the past and avoided reopening old wounds. At the same time, it became clear that there was an appetite for new subject matter which would not be cheaply commercial and yet could also appeal to a wide audience. Therefore, both literature and film were dominated by a wave of retro known as “ostalgia” (nostalgia for the east), the affectionate recollection of what was part of our – mainly Normalization – childhood and youth (the best example to illustrate this is Jan Hřebejk’s popular film Cosy Dens (Pelíšky) from 1999), while on the other hand there was also an attempt to come to terms with traumatic moments in Czech history. And it was those historical paradoxes from the 1940s and ’50s which were the most striking reminders of the old horrors, grievances and injustices that were still perceived as open and unresolved. Moreover, they had the potential to trigger a nationwide discussion on the major themes of our national history and memory. The boom in prose writing (as well as plays – see, for example, Porta apostolorum by Miroslav Bambušek, or Horáková, Gottwald by Karel Steigerwald) on these themes is a sign of Czech people’s need to come to terms with their own past, but it is also the reinstatement of a strong, reader-friendly story with a prominent main character, as well as an attempt by authors to challenge and upset the traditional “textbook” approach. This is evident in the fact that, from all of the various periods of postwar Czechoslovakia, the historical issue which has received the most attention in the prose of the new millennium has been the “savage” postwar expulsion of the Germans (typically as a direct precursor to the Communist atrocities), followed by the crimes of the 1950s such as unlawful imprisonment, torture and collectivization.

These works have not only been welcomed by society and the professional community but have also garnered prizes. For example, Pavel Brycz was awarded the State Prize for Literature in 2004 for his family saga The Patriarchate of Long-Faded Glory (Patriarchátu dávno zašlá sláva), and Jan Novák was awarded the main Magnesia Litera prize in 2002 and 2nd place in the Lidové Noviny newspaper’s Book of the Year in 2004 for his novel So Far So Good (Zatím dobrý), which describes the escape of the Mašín brothers. Lidové Noviny’s Book of the Year for 2005 was Jáchym Topol’s novel Gargling with Tar (Kloktat dehet), which depicts in a highly original way the fictitious fate of a nation which did not submit to the Russian occupying forces in 1968. Third place went to Jiří Hájíček’s Rustic Baroque (Selský baroko), which describes collectivization and the main character’s present-day investigation into old injustices. In the Magnesia Litera prose category for 2006, Rustic Baroque beat another of the nominated works, We Take What There Is (Bereme co je) by Věra Nosková, which describes childhood and adolescence in a small town in the 1950s and ’60s. The following year, the winner in the prose category was Money from Hitler (Peníze od Hitlera) by Radka Denemarková, which reflects on postwar excesses; in 2008 Petr Placák made his mark with the genre-defying Cop (Fízl), which revealed the Normalization practices of the Czech secret police. That year Tomáš Zmeškal’s novel Love Letter in Cuneiform (Milostný dopis klínovým písmem) was nominated for the Magnesia Litera for prose and was awarded 2nd/3rd place in the Lidové Noviny’s Book of the Year 2008. Among the autobiographical memoir-based stories of ordinary people, one work which stood out was Josef Šimon’s Stolen Home (Ukradený domov), describing the injustices of collectivization, which won the Readers’ Award as part of the Magnesia Litera awards. The Readers’ Award was twice won by Kateřina Tučková, with the young author being highly rated by the public for her readable prose realistically depicting wartime and postwar excesses (in 2010 with the novel The Expulsion of Gerta Schnirch (Vyhnání Gerty Schnirch) and in 2013 with The Žítková Goddesses (Žítkovské bohyně)). Antonín Bajaja received the State Prize for Literature in 2010 for his novel On the Beautiful Blue Dřevnice (Na krásné modré Dřevnici), which reflects on a childhood in Zlín in the 1950s.

The 1940s and 1950s in Contemporary Czech Prose.

The 1940s and 1950s in contemporary Czech prose.

Although these literary works are in many ways very different, it is possible to find areas of common ground which can help to characterize them.

The first of these is the unravelling of old stories in the present and the continuing relevance of problems created by a tragic period in the past. The guilt of the parents is transferred to the children, who carry the trauma of their parents’ shattered lives with them; the old passions, injustices and arguments are still alive (particularly in the villages), and the contemporary protagonists try to uncover old secrets and understand the reasons for persistent hatred, bitterness and revenge. That is why, for example, some of the novels may feature a rather awkward combination of characters’ ages, in order to allow the perpetrators and victims of older crimes to be brought face to face, as in Radka Denemarková’s Money from Hitler, where a sixty-year-old man falls in love with an eighty-year-old woman. Elsewhere, authors deliberately depart from reality: in the novel The Patriarchate of Long-Faded Glory, Pavel Brycz has the founder of the family live to the ripe old age of 126, and Jáchym Topol completely abandons real time in his novel Gargling with Tar, where the main character remains a little boy. There is much reflection on the themes of guilt, remorse and forgetting, but also on the possibility of bringing an end to old conflicts, either through belated revenge or forgiveness.

Another common theme in these works is the polemic with the former Communist interpretation of Czech history: in contrast to the themes of building, flourishing, the righteous struggle and the victory of the “correct” idea, there is an emphasis on the dark and cruel side – crimes, injustices, blighted lives, and the all-pervasive powerlessness associated with resignation. It is not by chance that a recurring motif is the physical or psychological abuse of children and partners, sometimes associated with a perversion stemming from this traumatic period. In Tomáš Zmeškal’s Love Letter in Cuneiform, a central plot device is the sadomasochistic bond between the wife of an unjustly imprisoned man and his interrogator.

Tomáš Zmeškal.

Tomáš Zmeškal.

Another key theme is that of power, control and the subordination associated with punishment, violence and manipulation, which plays out in many different forms within these books: as futile attempts to break free from the thrall of abusive parents, who find comfort in alcohol or deep discontentment and hatred, as seen in the works of Pavel Brycz (The Patriarchate of Long-Faded Glory) and Radka Denemarková (The Devil by the Nose (A já pořád kdo to tluče)); as life in a cruel society with its own rules dictated by the times, in which the weak and principled are the losers (for example, in Edgar Dutka’s At Shelter 5 (U útulku 5), stories about a young boy who finds himself in a children’s home at the start of the 1950s after the imprisonment of his mother and her escape across the border); or face to face with the embodiment of evil in the form of a sadistic interrogator or a primitive, evil functionary (as in the village prose showing the injustices of collectivization, where the most significant role is played by the stupid and malicious chairman of the local agricultural cooperative or another Communist functionary controlling the whole village, as in Rustic Baroque by Jiří Hájíček and Grandfather (Děda) by Jan Novák).

One interesting aspect is that the two most traumatic periods in modern Czech history, i.e. the Second World War and the 1950s, are often connected by a causal link whereby these periods are interpreted as two consecutive phases that are in essence the same. The previously irreconcilable conflict between Czechs and Germans is now relativized: where the Germans had Nazism, we Czechs had Communism. Contemporary Czech prose which has its main characters operate under both of these regimes focuses on phenomena and motives that affirm their shared nature. In this new interpretation, the characteristics of the characters are also inverted: whereas in the older (socialist) literature, collaboration with the Germans was associated exclusively with representatives of the “outgoing” social classes, i.e. the “bourgeoisie” and the “kulaks”, now, conversely, there is an emphasis on human conformism, which leads certain types of people to serve both regimes. A typical character might be a Communist who had been a collaborator, or a German who maintains their humanity and morality in spite of Nazi rule.

Jan Novák’s novel Grandfather is an impressive narrative about the life and transformation of a village during and shortly after the war. In the memoirs of the autobiographically inspired narrator (a young boy), the colourful character of the grandfather (a farmer) tries to oppose both the Nazis and the Communists, though in the end he is defeated by the latter, led by a stupid and malicious chairman, his former coachman. Even though his property has been officially confiscated, he does not capitulate in spirit and maintains his personal heroism and love of agriculture until the end of his life. Another interesting theme, which can also be seen in other books about this era, is the demystification of the liberation: the Russians are not welcomed enthusiastically, and ordinary people start to fear them, viewing them as thieves and rapists.

'Grandfather' by Jan Novák (Bookman, 2007).

‘Grandfather’ by Jan Novák (Bookman, 2007).

Květa Legátová presented an even more extreme view of the role of the Russians in May 1945 in her novella Jozova Hanule (better known from the film version as Želary). In a village where a young female resistance fighter is hiding out, pretending to be an ordinary villager married to the local eccentric, a hulk of a man named Joza, the Russians’ arrival represents the breaking of old ties and is accompanied by murder, rape and the villagers fighting for their very lives.

There are fewer books from this period which address the Holocaust, and they tend to be tragic works which make no attempt to break down stereotypes and overturn established values. Hana Andronikova published a family saga, the novel The Sound of the Sundial (Zvuk slunečních hodin), in which an important role is played by characters who are transported to Terezín and Auschwitz and their subsequent fate, and Magdalena Platzová’s Aaron’s Leap (Aaronův skok) presents the story of a Jewish painter who perished in a concentration camp, which is gradually expanded upon by different women whose destinies are linked together by old bonds.

The Expulsion of Gerta Schnirch by Kateřina Tučková and Money from Hitler by Radka Denemarková were seen as innovative takes on the traditional way of depicting Czech–German relations. On the one hand, they made a great impact, which was helped by the fact that they received prestigious literary awards. However, this success was then relativized by discussions about the extent to which the use of this subject matter in similar cases was opportunistic. Both of these novels explicitly describe postwar acts of cruelty carried out by the Czechs against the Germans, and both of them have female main characters whose lives are held up as examples which seem to call for an apology or the erection of a memorial – in contrast to the situation in the 1990s, the narrators are not just seeking reconciliation but direct acknowledgment of Czech guilt. In Gerta Schnirch we get to know an innocent young Czech–German girl who is abused and silenced her whole life due to her background through the principle of collective guilt, whereas in Radka Denemarková’s book Gita Lauschmannová is an old woman whose whole life has been spent trying to clear the name of her father, a German Jew, and obtain an apology for the wrongs done to her by the Czechs after she returned from a concentration camp.

Radka Denemarková. Photograph: Radka Denemarková/Tobias Bohm

Radka Denemarková. Photograph: Radka Denemarková/Tobias Bohm

A new novel out this year which features the theme of Czech–German relations in a rather different form (although its central theme is Normalization and the search for old informants) is Michal Přibáň’s Everything is Only Twice (Všechno je jenom dvakrát). A new element here is that his reflection on the violent expulsion of the Germans also serves as a reminder of and comparison with the post-Munich events and the repression of the Czech people.

Prose dealing with themes from the 1940s and ’50s can also be characterized and classified according to the extent to which its treatment of the period is factual and historically accurate. We can contrast works of a mainly fictional nature with those which are closer to non-fiction and make extensive use of supporting documents and real eyewitness testimonies.

Two novels which provoked a great deal of debate were The Žítková Goddesses by Kateřina Tučková, which was a hit with readers, and Silesian Novel (Slezský román) by Petr Čichoň, which was much discussed by critics; both novels are set against a background of historical events and, according to the authors, were preceded by a period spent studying sources and speaking with witnesses. However, in both of them the “German theme” is reduced to an attractive historical backdrop, leaving scope for made-up stories and unusual main characters. This allows both authors to bring in the character of a Nazi with admirable qualities, who is portrayed as an almost likeable man with a grand vision and a mission as well as a respect for ancient mythology.

'Silesian Novel' by Petr Čichoň (Host, 2011).

‘Silesian Novel’ by Petr Čichoň (Host, 2011).

It is more unusual to come across works in which historical events simply form a distinctive background to a freely imaginative, unashamedly postmodern story, as is the case with David Zábranský’s novel Martin Juhás or Czechoslovakia (Martin Juhás čili Československo).

In contrast, Jiří Šulc’s adventure novel Two Against the Reich (Dva proti říši) is closer to factual literature in its description of the assassination of Heydrich. Another appealing work which won praise from readers and critics alike is the purely non-fiction As If We Should Die Today (Jako bychom dnes zemřít měli) by Miloš Doležal, in which the author assembled a large number of archival sources and eyewitness accounts to bring to life the figure of the Číhošť priest Josef Toufar and follow him from his birth to the tragic end of his life. As the subtitle referring to a “martyr’s death” indicates, the work has distinct hagiographic features; its clear objective is to document as precisely as possible the martyrdom – or rather murder – of a well-liked, brave and friendly priest.

One of the most successful works incorporating elements of fact and fiction is Jan Novák’s psychological novel So Far So Good, which is devoted to the Mašín family and recounts in detail Josef and Ctirad Mašín’s escape to Germany. (It has received a number of awards, including the Book of the Year 2005, has been reprinted three times, and has twice been published in translation.) The artistically successful depiction of characters who had been viewed ambiguously by society, the attempt to look into their psyche and explain the motivations behind their behaviour, and at the same time the strict adherence to the facts and sources combined to produce a thrilling work which was enthusiastically received by both critics and readers. This novel also showed that in the new millennium these kinds of themes could represent attractive commercial “products” and that there was a demand from readers for a large-scale, epic novel with an exciting plot and main characters (however controversial) that they could be proud of.

The emphasis on fact and “truth”, the focus on a striking figure who offers a strong story shaped by historical upheavals, plus the scope for free artistic invention – all of these form the basis of a creative trend in the second decade of the new millennium – biographies as contemporary literature. These novels, which combine elements of fact and fiction, centre on a major artistic figure whose life is fleshed out using real historical documents as well as passages in which there is an attempt to understand the main character’s behaviour “through one’s own efforts”. One way in which these works differ from those from the first decade of the new millennium is in the period from which the writers have taken their subjects. It is as though the era of the Nazi and Communist past has been exhausted or become clichéd and the authors are tending to reach further back, to periods of history which have not yet been “thoroughly aired”. We may still find ourselves in the 20th century, but emphasis is also placed upon earlier years: Jan Němec’s A History of Light (Dějiny světla), which examines the life of František Drtikol, starts at the end of the 19th century and the main thread of the plot ends before the Second World War, even though the photographer’s postwar life would also make an interesting subject for fictional treatment. Although Martin Reiner’s The Poet (Básník) about Ivan Blatný reflects on the war and the postwar period, a lot of space is given to the situation in the First Republic and the avant-garde, as is also the case in Lucie Tučková’s book Suzanne Renaud, Petrkov 13 about the life of the French–Czech poet and wife of Bohuslav Reynek.

Meanwhile, the most recent fictional writing (as opposed to the constant interest in reading about factual characters) indicates that there is a growing trend towards examining national history. It is as though one wave has been exhausted – and now we wait for the renewed impetus which will bring it back in a different form to the forefront of readers’ attention.

 

Cover image: Detail from the cover of The Devil by the Nose by Radka Denemarková

 

[ ]

 

Alena Fialová (1976) works in the Institute of Czech Literature AS CR, where she focuses on post-war Czech prose and contemporary literature. She is the author of Poučeni z krizového vývoje. Poválečná česká společnost v reflexi normalizační prózy (Academia 2014) and is the main editor and co-author of the publication V souřadnicích mnohosti. Česká literatura první dekády jednadvacátého století v souvislostech a interpretacích (Academia 2014).