W riter Slobodan Tišma (65) is the recipient of the NIN Award for his novel ’Bernardi’s Room’  which  has  been  published  by  the Novi  Sad  Cultural  Centre.  A  total  of  106 literary works competed for the award, six being shortlisted. According to the jury, Tišma’s manuscript stood out because of its special view of human isolation and artistic self-sufficency that he communicated to readers in an exceptionally convincing manner. According to the jury president, Vasa Pavković, Tišma’s book is the carefully orchestrated  meditative  prose  of  a  distinct  writer,  musician and performer whose values have enriched contemporary Serbian  prose,  thus  bringing  it  closer  to  modern  prose  in the rest of the world.

 

■ When asked what this and his others awards meant to him he said:
-  It  is  an  honour  to  be  the recipient  of  this  most  prestigious  literary  award  as  it is  undoubtedly  the  crowning  achievement  of  my  literary  opus.  I  did  not  expect to  receive  it  and  don’t  seek awards   as   a   validation   of my work. Back in the day, I claimed that I would never accept  any  awards  for  any  of  my  artistic  pieces.  But,  in  the meantime, I guess my view became somewhat ‘tainted’ and I betrayed the pledge which is something I feel quite guilty about. My first award was ‘Stevan Sremac’ - in 2005 - for my book  of  poetry  ‘Urvidek’,  and  last  year  I  received  the  ‘Biljana Jovanović Award’ for my novel ‘Quattro Stagioni’. All of these recognitions, including the NIN Award, are not going to greatly aff ect my life. I will live just as before, continuing to communicate with those on ‘the margins’ and participate in so-called ‘showdowns’. That is my world and I am eagerly awaiting poetry showdowns where I will be on an equal footing with completely anonymous participants who write and love poetry just as much as myself.

 

■ How did the novel ‘Bernardi’s Room’ transpire and what is it about?
-  When  a  friend  of  mine  asked  me  to  write  a  story  about old cars I didn’t even presume that the manuscript would actually become the beginning of a novel. ‘Bernardi’s Room’ is  about  an  outsider  called  Pišta  Petrović,  who  lives  in Đurvidek, i.e. Novi Sad. Friends, acquaintances and various strangers ‘move in’ with him at various stages and he decides to ‘move out’, with a sleeping bag, to an old wrecked Mercedes. In the car, Pišta spends his time contemplating the universe, which is pure poetry. My hero is fighting for gratification    and    pleasure and  demonstrates  how  we, in    adverse    life    situations, can feel better and be joyous about tomorrow. He is lonely and this loneliness is actually a  smoke  screen  for  the  fear of  loneliness  that  he  suff ers
from,  the  cover  for  his  perennial  search  for  satisfaction. And we, just like Pišta, live to enjoy.

 

■ What kind of readers do your books speak to?
- My desire is for my books to be read by as many people as possible. That, of course, depends on how communicative of a writer I am and how much of my writing is understandable to the readers. I am a more of a philosophical writer.
That could be a flaw, but I cannot renounce it and cannot be somebody else. I am not into journalism and don’t write serial stories or something that I would call ‘ancient literature’.  I  am  primarily  interested  in  art.  I  talk  about  an  experience located in the past that has undergone a certain transformation and which, in the end, becomes epitomized in language in my literary work. And, by default, that is always an autobiographical experience.

■  You  often  underline  that  poetry  is  most  important to you and that prose is just a form to express poetic feelings. -  As  a  prosaist  I  use  the form   of   prose,   but   also possess     poetic     feelings and    excitement.    In    the words  of  the  poet  Antun Branko  Šimić  –  “Poets  are a wonder to the world.” To quote  my  mentor  profes-sor  Sreten  Marić:  “A  novel  is  good  only  if there is poetry in it. If there is no poetry, it is worth absolutely nothing.” The question here is – what is poetry today? People see poetry  in  diff erent  ways  and,  as  a  genre  it has  changed  so  nobody  knows  what  the term  exactly  entails.  If  you  say  that  somebody is a lyrical prosaist, that is not a particularly  a  good  qualification.  My  thinking is  that  poetry  is  something  that  is  much deeper than lyrical discourse. It is closer to
philosophical  deep  thinking.  That  is  what we  mean  when  we  say  that  prose  need  to have something poetic.

 

■ When you were young, you made music and, as you say, music aroused emotions in you and made the world more beautiful. Is there a connection between music and writing, between notes and words?
- Yes,  definitely.  Listening  to  music  is  my  basic  need.  It  is not a leisurely activity or a way to relax. It is a sort of meditation  and  utter  commitment.  Music  hones  emotions;  it emits an unbelievable range of delicately nuanced feelings that cultivate a man. At least, that’s my opinion, and I am sure that music can have the same aff ect on everybody providing that they listen and hear it in the proper way. On the other hand, music is the best example of how to build up a particular form as a way to express oneself. A whole composition is born from one tone that is then composed into others.  The  same  goes  for  a  novel.  By  merging  segments, drawing  out  and  hinting  certain  motifs,  which  culminate in the finale, you are creating an entirety. Just like in music. My writing has this element and, in that respect, music is a good teacher.

■ Do you have any plans for writing a new book?
-  Maybe,  but  I  am  a  spontaneous  person  and  don’t  plan anything,     including     my writing.  Who  knows  what will  move  me,  but  what  is certain is that I write from experience.    I    can    write about something that is far away,  imprinted  in  time... My novel ‘Bernardi’s Room’ was written based on my experiences in the second half of the 20th century. It sprouted from the seal of that time.

 

■ One could argue that those years were diffi cult for you. How much of that refl ected in your writing?
-  Looking  from  this  perspective,  it  wasn’t that  difficult.  There  were  some  internal breakdowns  that  were  the  result  of  various events which crucified me from the inside. I was troubled by tumultuous feelings, pressed  by  many  woes.  Of  course,  these emotions  coloured  my  work  and  they  are discernable in ‘Bernardi’s Room’. However, there is the other side. In my life, I have always overcome troubles with the help of innate joy and have been lucky to have always been saved by art.

 

■ Your award-winning novel will now have its second edition and you have received the fi rst offer for the book to be translated.
- Since the first edition, 500 copies, is almost sold out, the second one will have 3,000 copies - the Novi Sad Cultural Centre  has  decided.  Also,  we  have  received  the  first  off er from Macedonia for the book to be translated. ■