I thought Drakulic's writing describe the feelings of someone's whose society has been destroyed and a new one springs up. Her feelings as well as others are exposed in this book. This book summarizes the dispair of those who witnessed the Serbo-Croatian War of 1990-1991. I think the feelings described in this book, might only apply to the minority of the Croatian people. It certainly conveys a mother's anguish at seeing her child in a country at war.
I think this book conveys the human disaster of war. People suffer in a number of ways. They may not be soldiers, but they still suffer. Old ways die, and new ways may not be convenient to old people. Opportunities arise as can be seen where the woman confiscated another woman's apartment. War makes people old. I think all these feelings are conveyed in the book.

I read this book while studying the Balkans in school and shortly after September 11th. The book is about living war, a concept that is impossible to understand until one has been in a war like situation or has read this book. While I know that I can never say I felt as much pain as she did, I do have a better understanding of what it must have been like for her after 911 and after reading this book. It is an enjoyable read with the ability to touch on deep subjects without being too complex.

I could not put this book down. The author shares, almost in diary form, her insights as the Serb-Croatian war ripped apart her country in the early 1990's. After reading this book,one begins to understand the impact that war had on those who lived that war. While so many books about war describe carnage and attrocities, this book shares the impact that war has on the psyche and hearts of "every day" people making clear that not all wounds in war are to the body. The book reads like well written fiction. Unfortunately, it is not. I can't adequately describe this book. READ IT.

A fascinating collection of poignant vignettes on being a woman in communist Yugoslavia (with stories of the author's friends and acquaintances in other Eastern European countries.) Ms. Drakulic shares with the West the reasons whereby 40-plus years of communist-engendered habits and viewpoints and tendencies cannot undergo an overnight "attitude adjustment". This book is a must for anyone who seeks to begin to sympathize and understand the thoughts and roots of people (especially women) who were born and raised in Eastern Europe. I bulldozed through it, and am now reading her "Cafe Europa". Eye-opening!

Slavenka explores the perplexing lives of Eastern European women living in Communism through her short essays. There is nothing funny about these stories. The author displays how Communism failed its people, and how it failed its women. A visit to Yugoslavia in the 1980's, opened my eyes to the trials these women faced. I lived like these women. I brought with me stockpiles of medicine, sanitary napkins, soap and detergent. These items were impossible to buy and if you could find these items they were outrageously expensive. I washed my clothes by hand, scrubbed them in the basins Slavenka talks about. I walked around with the same fear, the same hopelessness for the future. Live for today, survive today. No bother to worry about tomorrow. This book should be a part of all woman studies programs, it gives insight to the lives of women living in Eastern Block countries. It gives insights to the trials they face and the fear of the future that goes along with it.

I will read this eye-opening book again and again. Historical accounts of communism can't paint the picture that this book has painted. This reads like poetry and is real.

The sparse title of this book reflects the contents within. Slavenka Drakulic, a Croatian journalist turned writer, has given the world one of the sparsest, depressing novels of all time. It is a pity she's not better known because she is an excellent author. This book is one of several that she has written, and I suspect it might be her best one. I only came across this book because I noticed it was a book about the Balkans, an area in which I have an avid interest.

The whole book is essentially the inner thoughts of S., a half Serb/half Muslim schoolteacher who finds herself caught up in the Bosnian war in the early 1990's. S. is abducted at gunpoint and sent to a camp where she quickly finds herself in the throes of dehumanization. S. and groups of other women are tormented by guards, denied adequate housing and food, and denied proper medical care. The book nosedives into insanity when S. is chosen to become an inmate of the "women's camp," a special brothel set up to service the soldiers of the camp. S. and others are routinely raped and tortured. Drakulic tells us the details, which I will not reproduce here for reasons of decency. S. survives the camp by becoming the girlfriend of the camp commander. Eventually, S. is freed through a prisoner exchange and ends up in Zagreb with a cousin and her family. S. doesn't want to stay and ends up hitting the refugee lottery by getting a visa to Sweden. Unfortunately for S., she discovers she is pregnant by one of the soldiers involved in the rapes. S. agonizes over her condition and decides to put the baby up for adoption. The end of the book can be seen as either happy or depressing, although I tend to see it as the former, a triumph over the inhumanity of war.

Drakulic pulls no punches with this tale. The rapes are depicted in nauseating detail, as is the process of dehumanization practiced on all of the prisoners. Most jarring is the occasional mention of dates (can this really be happening in 1992? In Europe?). What Drakulic has essentially accomplished is shrinking down the process of war to the level of the individual. S. is one individual, and it staggers the mind to think there were thousands, or even millions, of stories analogous to hers. Certainly, referring to this character as "S." is a way of trying to illustrate this point. A name does not matter because so many are going through this trauma. The guards of the camp certainly don't care what her name is, nor do the people in charge of this war.

This is a sick book full of depressing and grim stories. I'm still glad I read it, though. It is good to be reminded of war and its horrors. War is not parades and glory. War is the systematic dehumanization of one group of people by another (although both sides are often dehumanized in the process). Those of us who may live out our lives in peace because we live in the West should consider ourselves very lucky. To not have to go through the things described in this book is like winning a global lottery. S. is highly recommended by this reader.

I grew up in Bosnia during the war and I have heard stories of rape and cruelty and all the things that were happening. Thanks to my mother I escaped all that and I never believed that such things are possible. That human beings are capable to do what my people did to each other in this war. It took me more than a month to read this book because I kept going back to the passages trying to find words that will make it less brutal. Reading "S" has cleared to me why all the rape did happen in Bosnia and why it is often a war crime. It is a very powerfull novel that reveals details that are taboo and not talked off. And I would suggest anyone who has a strong stomac to read it.

It is difficult to put into words how this book affected me. As a woman, it touches me to my very core. Slavenka Drakulic's honest portrayal of what some women suffered during the collapse of Yugoslavia is precise. At times it is absolutely unbearable. At times it is the most beautiful tale of human strength. It is definitely something to read about things that happen outside of our own lives. To look at these people and what they suffered is to take a step into a world that is entirely unfamiliar. Finally, I was able to grasp the severity of such conflicts that were often a sidebar on the nightly news when I was still a girl. The gravity of this book is devastating, but so forthright, it is impossible to stop reading. If you want to gain some perspective on the sufferings that occurred not to long ago, and are possibly still occurring to this day in certain parts of the former Yugoslavia, S. will definitely give you that perspective. Be prepared forever for an intense and graphic read. It will disturb you, and at times comfort, however, you won't be able to erase the images that Slavenka Drakulic superbly illustrates.

I must agree with most everything I've read about Dzevad Karahasan's book. This is not what one would expect to read from someone living in a city under siege, especially given other facts of personal tragedies he mentions in the book.

Karahasan, is a Bosnian Muslim that is married to a Serbian woman. As the city is getting shelled and is occupied by Serbian forces, one is thrown off balance by Karahasan's cool recollection of events and anecdotes. Of particular interest is his exchange with a French humanitarian worker. It just shows how two people, through their individual circumstances, can have a difficult time understanding one another.

This book is frighteningly honest. The author is never shy about his disenchantment or his occasional thoughts of suicide. Even with that, this is not a depressing book. More than anything, I think it shows how war just sucks the soul and life out of some people. Its like they don't even have the energy to be angry at their aggressors anymore. They just want out.

One aspect I certainly wasn't expecting when I picked up this book was the literary criticism. Karahasan was a professor at the University of Sarajevo who taught drama and literature. The book criticizes much modern literature as empty academia. He asserts that while war is destruction and chaos, that things like literature are one of the few civilizing factors in wartime, and that writers have a lot of responsibility.

The first chapter is quite awkward, but after that, the book really picks up. At 123 pages, this book is an easy read. For a portrait of life during wartime and for a heavy handed criticism of much of what passes for literature today, this is an excellent book. Even saying what I've said about it, this description doesn't fully capture the scope of this book. It is very hard to describe fully what the author is trying to accomplish, because he goes about it in an odd manner. That being said, pick up this short little book and be prepared to be moved.

I read this book a few years ago, so forgive me if I don't remember all the pertinent details. I can say that this book was incredibly moving with its vivid descriptions of Sarajevo as it once was and as it was during the war. Sarajevo as a city was a victim, and its people were onlookers suffering along with the city. The book is surprising in that it tells the story of the city from the perspective of a resident. One would expect a book of this type (and the time frame in which is was written) to be more a memoir about the way of life that was lost or about the horrors of war. No, the book is more an elegy for the city of Sarajevo and a voice of hope for what the city could be again.

This is one of the books that is not easily described but must be read and absorbed personally to fully appreciate its craft.

I'm just now finishing reading the last essay in this book. A friend from eastern Germany passed "How We Survived Communism And Even Laughed" on to me last year. I have to say that I found both books hard to put down, though I sometimes felt that Ms. Drakulic's characterizations of ordinary life under communism -and of attitudes and motives of people living in post-communist Europe- seemed very broadly drawn.

While my own experience in post-communist Europe was limited to a year-long 'visit', my suspicions that Ms. Drakulic may sometimes go overboard in the connections she draws between the social psychology of poverty and attitudes toward civic responsibility in this context were somewhat supported by the reactions (to these two books) of friends who had been raised under European communism. The conversations we had about these books were at least, if not more, interesting than the books themselves.

Ms. Drakulic's message is an engaging one, accessible in style and intensely personal (which she openly states in her introduction to this book). Her open and direct approach was very valuable to me as a reader, even when I felt I couldn't really follow her arguments to the bigger conclusions about life (in post-communist countries and in general) that she seems to want to persuade her readers of in "Cafe Europa".

If you're wondering about the impact of revolutions, falling dictotatorial regimes and the end of Communism in Eastern Europe, Cafe Europa will answer your questions. I've read third-person reportage and scholarly works on the Balkans, the region's history, and the political issues, but the daily life of those who live here has rarely been presented to me in such a personal and descriptive way. Slavenka Drakulic makes powerful associations and draws connections that allow the reader more opportunities for insights about how the people have in many ways stayed the same, and yet how the changes in government impact daily life in the tiniest and most intimate ways.

The book is easy to pick up and put down, as it has topical chapters that stand beautifully as separate pieces, but that culminate powerfully in the final chapters for a strong overall effect.

Subtitled "Life After Communism", this is a collection of articles by Slavenka Drakulic, a Croatian journalist who has become a spokesperson to the West about life in Eastern Europe. Raised in the 1950s, she grew up in a tightly controlled world under communism. She's a product of that system as well as a witness to all the changes that have occurred in her world. Privileged because of her many trips to Western Europe, and married to a Swedish journalist, she has a unique perspective which she shares on the pages of this short but very eye-opening book. I was so intrigued that I read it all at one sitting and rushed to my computer to print out a map of the Balkans so that I could see for myself where the places were.

Her native land of Croatia has gone through many changes recently and yearns to be considered part of Western Europe. Several cafes have opened called "Café Europa" which try to imitate those in Vienna. But the coffee is served in heavy utilitarian cups and the pastries lack the taste and delicacy of what can be found just a few miles, but yet a world away in Austria. Ms. Drakulic writes with humor and as well as irony and passion as she discusses this and other aspects of life in her part of the world. Such as that it is impossible it is to find a clean toilet, equipped with soap, toilet paper and running water anywhere in Bucharest, the capital of Romania.

There are the constant humiliations of having to cross borders and have to show her Croatian passport. And the way she and other Eastern Europeans are distrusted reach farther than just the border crossings. She talks about consumer goods and how she and others constantly have to smuggle them across the border. One especially interesting story is how she and her husband argued about whether to smuggle a vacuum cleaner to Croatia or be willing to buy it at home and pay an inflated price.

She travels a lot and picks up details of the character of a place. For example, when she visits Sofia, which is the capital of Bulgaria, she is very aware that nobody smiles. To smile, in that culture, is perceived as a sign of subservience and weakness. This is just the opposite in the United States, where everyone smiles and thanks you for your business even though a phrase like "how are you today" doesn't mean that anybody cares. She also was impressed with the way that Americans value their perfect and well-kept teeth. When she returned to Croatia, she looked at the teeth of her fellow Croatians and discovered that many people had missing or rotten teeth. Even the people who could afford dental care didn't get it. It just wasn't important to them.

But have no allusions. This book is not just about these rather enlightening cross-cultural social discoveries. She goes deeply into the history of Croatia and the war crimes during WW2. And her trip to Israel and how she was constantly asked about whether or not she carried any guilt even though she was born after the War. She talks about an interview by another journalist with a former concentration camp commander who is living in Argentina. Ms. Drakulic is angry because the other journalist never made him answer any hard questions or confront him with his crimes.

She also discusses the Muslims of the area and ethnic cleansing. And she talks about Tito and other dictators and how so many people feel displaced by all this new freedom and yearn for a return to communism.

I really learned a lot from this book even though I wasn't familiar with all the names of the political figures. It made me want to learn more. And I plan on doing just that. This is a great beginning though. And, even if I never get a chance to read any more about this area, it certainly made me understand and appreciate the Eastern European world and some of its contradictions and complexities. And she did this all in a mere 213 pages.

I highly recommend this book for everybody. Read it. It will gently and firmly open your eyes to this very interesting part of the world.

Having been a student of the former Yugoslavia, I have read all of Drakulic's essays on life in Yugoslavia, which was different from life in other Communist countries. Yugoslavia was a special case, and Drakulic had special things to say. She is a keenly perceptive and accessible writer with a gift for giving detail and lending insight into things people from outside Yugoslavia could not understand. However, Drakulic is not a fiction writer. This book is an improvement from her effort in Marble Skin, but I find that her fiction is pretentious-trying-not-to-be-pretentious, far-fetched (and these are not supposed to be fantasy or sci-fi novels), and completely devoid of anything really original. Drakulic goes for shock value, but her choices are obvious and not at all engaging.

Don't waste your time.

I have read all of her books. All are great but this one just overwhelmed me! Once I started reading it I could not stop! Can you really love someone to death?!

Tereza is a Polish graduate student studying in New York City, who begins an affair with Jose, a Brazilian man studying cannibalism. In a twist on "Fatal Attraction", Tereza takes control of the affair, which she can't let end at any price, and maneuvers Jose into a full-fledged corporeal union, culminating with Tereza killing him and devouring parts of his flesh to unite them forever. In the literary tradition of Virgilio Piñera's "René's Flesh", Poppy Brite's "Exquisite Corpse", Bret Easton Ellis's "American Psycho", Carole Maso's "Defiance", and Stephen King's "Misery", Drakulic's book is more than a dark fantasy. It's a commentary on culture and humanity that is captivating, sensual, and potently memorable. This is a book that bites the reader back.

Written in a claustrophobic, stream-of-consciousness style, this is a portrait of a young woman deeply damaged by emotional and physical incest. The broken chronology and distorted perceptions make the reader feel as confused as the protagonist herself. I had to force myself to finish reading the book. It might have been worthwhile if there were some character development and resolution of the protagonist's psychological problems. Instead I was disappointed by an apparent happy ending that seemed forced and unbelievable. Marble Skin may be well-written (apart from the contrived ending), but it's certainly not enjoyable reading.

Most literary sources describe writer Slavenka Drakulic as contemporary, feminist Croation writer. Although I am fluent in Serbo-Croation, I never read any of her work in her (and mine) native language. It was wonderful suprise to find out that even translation of Ms. Drakulic's work is absolutely wonderful: rich in language, symbolism and crafted with extreme female sensitivity. Book describes complex mother/daughter relationship after husband/father suicide. Anyone familiar with eastern European culture knows that widows and divorcees with children are not a great "catch". One wonders if that is why mother in this novel decides to remain silent upon learning that her own daughter was raped by her stepfather. Is mother trying to keep her marriage going, since divorce would be a confirmation of her inability to keep the marriage alive - despite of her beauty, or is she keeping silent in order to preserve a certain respectability of her daughter? Even today, rape is sometimes hard to prove in the court. Complexity of the stepdaughter/stepfather relationship makes this case even harder. So, this wonderful, powerful novel describes the conflicts between mother and daugher in the most unusual way - through daughter's work as a scupltor and mother's attempted suicide. I would strongly recommend this book to anyone.