Albania’s internationally renowned writer Ismail Kadare, a perennial nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature, says his works written both under communist and in the post-1990s have remained the same in content, form and messages.
In an interview with Germany’s Die Welt newspaper, the Albanian writer says he repents of no book he has written and continues upholding the formula that “I wrote normal literature in an abnormal country.”
Kadare’s interview with Kosovo-born, Germany-based journalist Vjollca Hajdari came as the Albanian writer translated into more than 40 languages since the early 1970s, had one of his latest novels, “E penguara” (A girl in Exile) translated into German.
Tirana Times translated the full interview.
Mr. Kadare, you are Albania’s most famous writer around the world. Thanks to you the Albanian literature has its seat on the international stage. What does this achievement mean for you, Albanians and especially Albania?
-Allow me to reiterate the well-known idea that literature, as the most generous spiritual heritage of our planet, has two fundamental characteristics: it is universal and eternal. As a result, everybody talks about it anytime. Maybe this is the reason that talking about it seems easy, but it must be added that making mistakes is even easier.
No writer creates literature for themselves. Even less, no people. From its very first day, it is created for everybody. For England, even if it wants to keep its Shakespeare for itself, it’s not up to them. He belongs to everybody. There is no map of peoples where literature can be produced and another map where this is impossible.
As a small and isolated country Albania was unknown to the world. How would you introduce Albania to foreign readers and how would you acquaint them with Albania and Albanians?
–Literature is not created to make peoples known. For this, atlases, history books and similar stuff are enough. The art of literature is so independent that in every language it is translated into, literature is reborn. This is the gist of its magic.
Of course, getting to know a country or people where specific literature is born comes naturally, but this is never a goal in itself.
The ancient city of Troy is the most shocking example. When the Greeks destroyed it, their goal was eliminating every memoir and trace and even wiping out its name. But the other way round happened. Thanks to literary art, Troy nourished for about 3,000 years, and continues to this day nourishing human memory everywhere.
From this point of view, it can be said that the Trojan case is the most spectacular paradox of our world.
You have been nominated many times for the Nobel Prize for Literature. In addition to great expectations by your admirers, you have not been awarded it. Why? What do you think, what’s the problem?
-Frankly speaking, I have no answer to your question. Questions of this kind are among the habits of our world. There are colleagues who worry about them. I think there is no room for worry. By contrast, I think it’s a good habit that, in the run up to the prize award, the same to the Christmas eve, when familiar questions like where are you going to spend the holidays are made etc., many ask about this award. I think literature should be grateful to such attention, be it somehow naà¯ve, of the global public.
Rumor has it that you haven’t been awarded the Nobel prize for Literature because, according to them you were “in harmony” with the then communist regime, at a time when you were known as the universal voice against totalitarianism. Isn’t this claim in contrast to your stance? Is it time to get rid of such statements once and for all?
-I will start from the end. You are right but it is not a writer’s job to deal with such explanations.
The question of literature relations with a tyrannical regime is usually complicated. History does not unveil any regime that had no exacerbation with literature. Regimes, especially totalitarian ones, try to hide this exacerbation. Often, they even flatter literature, at a time when they do anything to put it under control, intercept it, and remind it of prison and even death. Antagonism between literature and tyranny stems naturally because of the nature of both of them. It is known that literature has freedom, emancipation, democracy in its gist, the same as tyranny has the opposite. In case of renowned writers, the bigger the recognition, the more dramatic the problem becomes. A dictatorship cannot stand parallel authority, not to mention rancor, the number one trait of every ruler.
A common paradox appears in this case: a world-class literature can be developed in a cruel regime. The regime tries to take advantage of it. There are well-known clichà©s about literature honoring the country etc. implying, even the regime. Literature has never done this. If it’s about honoring, it has honored itself.
Dictatorship regimes are not famous only for cruelty, but also cunning. For several years, they prepared secret files about writers, especially flinging mud at them.
After the collapse of communism in Albania, I was one of the first to request the opening of secret archives. This has not happened even today that we are talking together, 27 years on. Even when any archival document was accidentally discovered, instead of triggering further research, it was surrounded by silence.
Few years ago, I accidentally came across, a 1982 report by the Albanian secret investigation unit.
Because the report was published and republished in the local press, I am telling you just to have an idea of what these secret files, which everybody talks about, but nobody has seen, are.
What is this report about?
-This report tries to prove that the writer you are talking to, I.K., [Ismail Kadare] was a member of a plotters band that aimed at overthrowing the government. As you can see, this is not trivia, but “serious” stuff of that kind that took one to execution.
If you are curious, you can easily find that report. It’s the text of the interrogation of [former] Albanian Health Minister Dr. Zià§ishti, who died under torture the same year.
The report contains the “plot details” and the name of the investigator who is still alive in Albania and untroubled by anybody. Asked by a young Albanian journalist, the investigator has admitted to the authenticity of the text.
What happened later?
-That was all. The ‘scandalmongers’ you mentioned in this interview (there are even foreign journalists among them) showed no interest in this document which unveils the nature of a writer’s relationship with the dictatorship regime. After the collapse of communism, I never thought about bragging that I participated in a plot against the government, because this was simply not true, but the secret file is still there. It clearly shows that the government had already arranged a coffin for the writer and was only waiting for an order about it. That had happened in many other cases.
Could you further elaborate on the phenomenon based on this fact?
-A writer doesn’t work wonders. He can’t settle the misdeeds of a country on the verge of collapse, as was the case of communist Albania. In the meantime, a writer is held responsible for the literature he creates, under all circumstances, including those seemingly impossible. Especially, for a renowned writer. The greater the popularity, the more sensitive responsibility becomes.
Since we are talking together and you asked me the question, allow me to accurately answer on my case.
I didn’t become popular after the collapse of communism when you could describe its gloom without risking anything. I would like to add that I didn’t write my works in any Switzerland lake area, i.e. outside tyrannical Albania, but inside the country.
This is what exactly happened.
In 1960 I was a very popular writer in Stalinist Albania. Meanwhile, in 1970 something uncommon happened. After the translation of a book in Paris, in a short time I gained global popularity, which at that time meant Western recognition.
The shock was quite evident for such a case. For the writer himself, his readers, the communist country where he lives. In the meantime, what seemed like an incredible event, could suddenly turn against you. And that’s what happened. A writer finds himself in constant doubt. The gist of doubt is the question: why the western world, “the bourgeoisie,” our sworn enemy, while they hate our heroic and Bolshevik Albania, love you so much?
I am not elaborating on the situation that followed. The paranoid Albanian government found themselves unprepared. There was silence and secret files against me, maybe like the one I told you about. But nothing was said in public. As far as I understood, they were waiting that I myself was going to “deal with bourgeoisie.” In other words, that I stated: You like me, but I am your enemy!
Nothing of this kind ever happened. Under global pressure, a meeting of “bourgeoisie” journalists was allowed with me. There are dozens of interviews that can be found and that I am telling you in full moral responsibility that there is nowhere, no paragraph, of those that Albanian Stalinists dreamt of.
This was the first ordeal I overcame and when the government, I am not ashamed of telling, bowed to.
Was this tough?
-Of course. All you have to do is making up your mind in order not to distort the gist of truth.
I would like to underline that Western journalists, considering my tough position, were careful not to further aggravate it. However, whether they wanted or not, the dangerous moment came quite suddenly. That was especially when there were live TV interviews.
What was such a moment like?
-I can remember such a case, exactly in Germany, at a Berlin TV. The journalist suddenly asked me a question, which, how to put it, was fatal for Eastern writers. ‘Mr. Kadare can you write against the regime?’ The question, even though not meant to be provocative, was in itself the most intrusive of all. I had heard, many writers had been left speechless because of it. Answers of the kind that such a thing didn’t have to be discussed as long as the interviewed writer had no problem with the regime etc. seemed in all cases poor.
A short silence followed, and I was lucky to remain cool and answer with a “no.” And soon after, explaining the reason: In my country such a thing is banned by law.
The answer seemed more courageous than it really was. Returning to Albania by plane, I thought about how to defend myself if this answer was deemed “bad.” The first thing that came to my mind were the thousands of plaques littering Albania reading “Long live the proletarian dictatorship.”
This country did not hide it at all that it was a dictatorship, in other words that it allowed nothing to harm it, to proceed with ban of “bourgeoisie propaganda” etc. etc.
Was it more difficult or easier with fiction?
-That depended on the circumstances. From 1970 until the collapse of communism, despite the recognition and acceptance by the Western world, I was considered a socialist realism writer.
I gave no importance to this naming as long as it did not play any role in my work. In addition, I used the term so naturally that some of my close friends, half-jokingly, told me that apparently, I called what I had written myself that way. According to him, there was nothing I could do but call the other dogmatic, Stalinist literature decadent literature.
Although this looked like laughing, there was a true gist. Deep inside me, I believed that as much paradoxical it sounded, the dogmatic literature of that time, such as the Albanian, Soviet or Chinese ones, in the real sense of the word, were nothing but “decadent.”
As far as literature produced in a totalitarian regime is concerned, there are still misunderstandings even today. The use of the “Socialist Realism” term itself, helps in a kind of chaos. For some, this is an accused naming and they are ready to deny every kind of creativity related to it. For others, the term doesn’t have to be taken that seriously.
I have always thought that literature stands above prejudice, especially labeling. This is the reason I have maybe become boring with the formula that I wrote normal literature in an abnormal country.
The truth is I continue upholding this formula. During our talk, I believe it is well-understood that I wrote in three different eras: the first two decades from 1950 to 1970 was a typical time of Socialist realism involving both the government and the readers. In the second two decades 1970-1990, there was again a socialist society, but with two different kinds of readers: the Albanian and international ones. Lastly, the third era, the post-communist one of full freedom.
With full moral responsibility, I can say that my works written in three different eras, with about 40 titles, in and outside Albania, are the same, in content, form and messages. I have denied no book. I have waved neither the dissident, nor the conformist flag.
I was only a writer. I reiterate, the same in all three eras. Sounds unbelievable? Let me tell you a curiosity: While we are currently talking together London is hosting the Man Booker Prize competition about the best foreign book published in Great Britain. Twelve countries have been selected for the 2017 competition. Among them is also Albania, my country. The curious thing is that the book representing Albania, my novel “Kamarja e turpit” [The Traitor’s Niche)] was written 40 years ago in Albania. Allow me to be more punctual: in Stalinist and Bolshevik Albania, the number one enemy of the West, including Great Britain!
And nothing changed in this book, I mean was it published in the original form?
-No page has been changed in the book. Should I add it’s a novel about state terror? Even this is correct.
In 1990 you sought political asylum in France. Could you explain the reasons of your departure? Why did you exactly choose France?
-For Albanians and for all Balkan people, France became a close ally especially during Napoleon’s era, as an example of inspiration to depart from Ottoman rule. Chronicles show that in the Balkans, especially in Albanian regions, there was a time when “La Marseillaise” was sung as a local patriotic song! I sought political asylum after harsh correspondence with [former, late] President Alia, after I finally understood there was no hope with him, at a time when many people believed he could become an Albanian Gorbachev.
What is your relationship with the mother country and how much has your relation with Albania changed compared to the previous years?
-I had no relations of misunderstanding with the wider public. On the other hand, there was full understanding in all cases.
The peoples of the Balkan Peninsula, in Europe’s eyes are usually perceived as very harsh, more prone to quarreling than lyrical passion. I have to admit that there is something true in this assertion.
Meanwhile, I can’t deny that it is exactly these people, among them Albanians, who love literature so much, even sublimate it. This is really a surprise related to other paradoxes such as, for example, the stance toward women and love. Allow me to repeat the idea that young women and women, more than in their lives, when the stance toward them was not to be envied, were lucky in art.
There are few regions around the world where they are treated as goddesses. It is likely that literature has benefitted from this.
By the way, since we are talking about women. What role did your wife Helena, who is also a writer, play and currently plays?
-It is difficult for me to perceive how my daily literary creativity would develop without her assistance. Above all, she has been during all the time we have lived together, my first reader, i.e. my first opinion about the work, which for many writers, including me, has an irreplaceable importance.
Her literary taste is unmistakable. I am not talking about the other assistance: her supervision of the whole process of preparing the manuscript, its computer typing, the first correction and editing and whatever technical issues which the writer needs so much.
Last year, a great Albanian woman, Mother Teresa, born Anjeza Gonxhe Bojaxhiu, was declared a saint in Vatican. What’s your comment about it?
-You can guess my answer. It was legitimate pride. In the meantime, I would like to add that there was a dramatic dimension under communism.
While she was admired all over the world, there was a time in Albania when it was not talked about her for two main reasons: the first one because she was religious and the second because she was considered to be part of the Western world. The pressure was so strong that despite her pleas, she was not allowed to visit her family, or just take a bunch of flowers to their tombs.
If we leave out the communism era, Albania is one of the unique countries around the world for its religious tolerance. Albanians have another approach toward religion and do not identify themselves under religious belief. How do you explain this?
–This is true and I don’t hide it, this makes me feel proud. I would like to add, that for us, Balkan peoples, bragging is something easy. It is not a much enviable characteristic, but in this case Albanians are right to take pride.
The explanation should be complicated. Religious harmony is one of the rarest characteristics in peoples’ history. Albanians have had this characteristic under all historical circumstances: under the Ottoman occupation, after becoming independent from it, during the time of the Albanian kingdom, during fascism, and surprisingly even under communism, when tolerance seemed to have bid goodbye to Albania forever.
I would like to add that the other legitimate pride, the continuous protection of Jews, especially during the World War is apparently related to the harmony mentioned above.
Did you know that Berlin has a school, which since 2014 is named after Refik Veseli, the Albanian photographer of “The Righteous among the Nations” who saved two Jewish families during World War II?
-No I didn’t know. I am learning it from you. And of course I am pleased to hear about this.
When did you visit Germany and what are your impressions about the German government?
-Germany was present in Albania since its return to Europe. Under a tradition that was being put in place in the Balkans, the first European-Albanian royal dynasty was Germanic, since 1914 with the approval of the Great Powers. Unfortunately, this first stage of Albania’s European integration, (a dream which still continues, now that we are currently talking together) was ruined by World War I.
After an Albanian kingdom that concluded dramatically, Albania ended up in a Fascist country, which collapsed together with the Italian-German axis. Then what followed was the already known story of the establishment of communism, the very passionate friendship with the communist camp, and the same passionate hostility toward it, the friendship-animosity with the Chinese, the desperate isolation under the collapse of communism.
During all this time, West Germany was the only Western country which taking advantage of Albania’s animosity with the communist camp, tried to push it toward Europe. The mission undertaken by Strauss [West German politician Franz Josef Strauss] was impossible because Albania, being really hostile toward its ex-communist allies, was in the meantime more Stalinist than them!
It was not easy to understand this. In the meantime, there was some hope with “German chance.” The thing was about West Germany. Two or three trips I made, because of publications in German, happened exactly in this “Capitalist” Germany. I first entered Berlin half-secretly!
I am not going into details about this grotesque story which continued until Albania found itself, eventually, together with present-day Germany, at the North Atlantic Alliance.
I am quite convinced that despite the paradoxes created by history, there has always been a positive feeling about Germans and Germany in Albania. It is likely that the explanation for this could be related to gratitude toward German scientists who dealt with the Albanian language, more thoroughly and seriously than anybody else, including Albanians themselves. This might seem exaggerated if you are not aware of the unlimited admiration toward the language, which in Albanians’ eyes, had undertaken the aureole of a martyr, especially after its ban under an Ottoman government decree.
Thank you for the very impressive curiosity. Allow me to conclude our conversation with a final question. Three years ago Turkish president Erdogan was in Kosovo and called Kosovo Turkey. What do you think of this?
-I am aware of this statement by him and the only thing I can say is that I didn’t believe my eyes when I read it.
