vesti

Fizika tuge

Georgi Gospodinov

Prevela s bugarskog Ivana Stoičkov

Godina izdanja: 2013

Format (cm): 20cm

Broj Strana: 344

ISBN: 978-86-6145-143-0

Cena: Rasprodato

Već na prvi pogled jasno je da je pred nama moderan roman. A koliko je još i moderniji na drugi pogled?
Gospodinov bez zazora preispituje granice žanra. To čini tako da nam se čini kao da je ovo jedan od poslednjih pokušaja da se dokaže da roman kao književni rod ima još oblika za izmišljanje, obogaćivanje i pokazivanje. Autor istovremeno lakonski i temeljno preispituje roman kao oblik književnog istraživanja, dovodeći ga u ozbiljnu sumnju, te ga potom, tako negiranog, uspostavlja u jednom novom melanžu. Fizika tuge nije više i samo eksperiment; ona je nova romaneskna vrednost. Istorija književnosti verovatno će ga jednoga dana označiti kao: a) prekretnički roman, b) izdajnički roman, ili v) jedan od poslednjih romana koji bi da obuhvate - sve.
Ovaj pre svega poetičan roman, vrlo tanane duše, priča je o fizici ali i metafizici tuge. Čine ga: montaža, kinematografska struktura, pauze, grafika, simboli, tišina, prividna fragmentarnost, samoća, minotaurska napuštenost, lavirinti, antički mitovi, praznina. To je istorija sveta ispričana pogledom nevažnih događaja, netipičnih stvorenja (od puževa do dinosaura i ljudi). U zbiru svega glavni junak je Ja smo. To ja smo ključ je romana: ono je oscilirajuće klatno između prvog i trećeg lica, jednine i množine. Autorska snaga, koja je u svim pričama i telima ove knjige, mnogo je šira od tzv. Sveznajućeg autora.
Roman - vremenska kapsula. Roman u koji se zaljubljuje.
Ako je originalni i uspešni Prirodni roman G. Gospodinova, preveden na 20 jezika, od kojih je srpski bio prvi u svetu (Geopoetika, 2001), bio postmoderan u najplemenitijem smislu reči, Fizika tuge je roman apokaliptičan u najrevolucionarnijem značenju reči.  lydw wd aljan

Lydw Wd Aljan Direct

Literally translated, the phrase hints at “Lydw and the spirits” (or “jinn”), though no single authoritative source pins its origin. Some folklorists argue it belongs to a pre-Islamic narrative cycle from the Sarawat Mountains, where a wanderer named Lydw strayed into a wadi known to be a gathering place for aljan — the smokeless beings of Arabian lore.

In the shadowed folds of oral tradition, some names barely survive — whispered between generations, half-forgotten, then resurrected by curious seekers. Lydw wd aljan is one such enigma.

Lydw wd aljan, then, is less a fixed story and more a door. Open it, and you step into the space where language meets legend, and where every lost name waits to be remembered. If you have a specific source or context in mind (a book, song, region, or dialect), let me know — I can narrow the focus entirely.

The story, told in fragments: Lydw, a herder chasing a lost camel, descends into the ravine at dusk. The air changes — honey-thick, humming with a sound like distant looms. There, the jinn do not attack or trick him. Instead, they offer a bargain: a single question answered truthfully, in exchange for his silence about their grove. Lydw asks, “What do you fear?” Their reply: “The forgetting of names.”

Since that night, so the legend goes, anyone who speaks “Lydw wd aljan” aloud near a dry riverbed will hear a soft double echo — one voice human, one not.

Whether parable, phonetically corrupted proverb, or lost toponym, the phrase endures as a cultural riddle. On social media, it’s recently surfaced as a hashtag among Gulf storytellers reviving al-ḥikāyah al-ghaybiyyah (the unseen tale). Musicians have sampled its rhythm as a chant-like hook. Poets treat it as a mu‘ammā — a deliberate puzzle.

Ostale knjige iz edicije - Svet proze

Literally translated, the phrase hints at “Lydw and the spirits” (or “jinn”), though no single authoritative source pins its origin. Some folklorists argue it belongs to a pre-Islamic narrative cycle from the Sarawat Mountains, where a wanderer named Lydw strayed into a wadi known to be a gathering place for aljan — the smokeless beings of Arabian lore.

In the shadowed folds of oral tradition, some names barely survive — whispered between generations, half-forgotten, then resurrected by curious seekers. Lydw wd aljan is one such enigma.

Lydw wd aljan, then, is less a fixed story and more a door. Open it, and you step into the space where language meets legend, and where every lost name waits to be remembered. If you have a specific source or context in mind (a book, song, region, or dialect), let me know — I can narrow the focus entirely.

The story, told in fragments: Lydw, a herder chasing a lost camel, descends into the ravine at dusk. The air changes — honey-thick, humming with a sound like distant looms. There, the jinn do not attack or trick him. Instead, they offer a bargain: a single question answered truthfully, in exchange for his silence about their grove. Lydw asks, “What do you fear?” Their reply: “The forgetting of names.”

Since that night, so the legend goes, anyone who speaks “Lydw wd aljan” aloud near a dry riverbed will hear a soft double echo — one voice human, one not.

Whether parable, phonetically corrupted proverb, or lost toponym, the phrase endures as a cultural riddle. On social media, it’s recently surfaced as a hashtag among Gulf storytellers reviving al-ḥikāyah al-ghaybiyyah (the unseen tale). Musicians have sampled its rhythm as a chant-like hook. Poets treat it as a mu‘ammā — a deliberate puzzle.