the new yorker
kavramına bakışını ve ele alış şeklini şöyle açıklamış,
" chronicling everyday life in bulgaria means trying to communicate bulgarian “sadness,” which is—to the extent that these things can be disentangled—as much a linguistic as a metaphysical dilemma. as gospodinov conceives it, the bulgarian word tuga (which his translator, angela rodel, renders as “sorrow”) is, like pamuk’s hüzün or nabokov’s toska, a word for which there’s no real equivalent in english. (maybe everyone imagines their sorrow to be untranslatable; maybe they’re right.) gospodinov’s tuga is “a longing for something that hasn’t happened
… a sudden realization that life is slipping away and that certain things will never happen to you, for a whole list of reasons—personal, geographical, political.” this sadness isn’t unique to bulgaria, gospodinov acknowledges; in an age of austerity, it threatens to overwhelm the entirety of europe. but the idea of unlived lives has a particular resonance in a country where the horizon of possibility has so frequently been redrawn, and where the landscape is strewn with the ruins of “vague, abstract ideologies” and their failed promises, from decaying socialist monuments to the abandoned resorts and apartment complexes of the free-market real-estate boom. "
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