Love and Obstacles
Aleksandar Hemon’s novel The Lazarus Project ensured that I would be a fan of the author for life (my review). Needless to say, when Hemon came to town a few weeks ago to read from his new collection of short stories, Love and Obstacles, I had to be there.

It was evident upon arrival that many (most?) in attendance at the Decatur library were former Yugoslavs/Sarajevans. Hemon is formerly from Sarajevo and found himself in Chicago when the Balkan War broke out, and he became a man without a country. Although he has gone on to win a McArthur “genius grant” and has written several critically acclaimed books in English, he also continues to write regularly in Serbian for a Sarajevo-based publication.
Hemon read from the story The Conductor about a young writer’s rocky relationship with an elder literary statesman of Sarajevo. The story seemed to be autobiographical enough that the author was asked questions about the protagonist’s views as though they were his own. Hemon had to remind the audience that it was a story and not his life. Which is maybe another way of saying that the story dripped with authenticity. (On the basis of that story I bought the book in the lobby as soon as the reading was over.)
During the Q&A, almost everyone who asked a question began, “Mr. Hemon, I am also from the former Yugoslavia…” Or sometimes they would say Sarajevo. No one spoke in terms of the current political boundaries. The author used some of the questions to riff on the tyranny of language and identity. Hemon explained that the Serbo-Croatian language that he learned in school was an artificial construct. The idea was that a common language would foster a common identity (and thus, peace). When Yugoslavia crumbled, the language disappeared over night and the old identities re-emerged. Hemon spoke of the freedom that he felt when he was able to escape the bonds of the old languages by thinking and writing in English. He also related an anecdote (by request) that in the last three or four generations of his family, no one has died in the country in which they were born. Although some of the previous generations had moved, the fact of the matter was that the countries where they were born no longer existed at the time of their deaths. It was fascinating stuff.
It seems a little lame that I spent most of this review talking about the reading that I went to that one time. I felt that I should mention all of that back story though because Hemon’s take on language, identity, belonging, etc. are central to all of the stories in this excellent collection. In a BGB interview, author Richard Lange said the following about short stories:
What I’m looking for is electrifying flesh-and-blood stuff that makes me sit up and go, “Holy shit! Here’s someone who’s ready to throw down.”
Love and Obstacles meets Mr. Lange’s criteria. Check it out.
Post script: I found myself returning to the U2 (ft. Pavorotti) song Miss Sarajevo while reading the book. It seemed to nicely sum up the mood of the book.