Protected: He’s Less Obnoxious as a Falcon Than a Monk

Having left Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1993, mid-war, Miljenko Jergović settled in Zagreb, Croatia, where he lives today. He is a prolific writer of the social and cultural history of Bosnia and Croatia, the history of his family, and the siege of Sarajevo. The fact that he has maintained a lively connection with Serbian writers and the Serbian literary scene has, at times, sparked controversy, as has Jergović’s portrayal of Sarajevo. Nevertheless he has one of the largest literary followings in the region.

“Zulum” is one of 19 stories, or what Jergović calls prose remixes, in his eighth collection, Inshallah, Madonna, Inshallah—each inspired by a ballad or folk song. Sevdalinka ballads play a central role in the musical heritage of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and like all ballads, at their core sevdalinkas have a tale. Jergović introduces each story with a line from the song that inspired it. For “Zulum” he gives us: Djevojka sokolu zulum učinila, translated as: A maiden did a falcon harm. Accordingly, this is the story of a falcon, a maiden, a 15th century monastery, and a monk who, we’re told, is known for roaming the surrounding forests and conversing with wild animals. As the story unfurls, the monastery in question devolves into chaos over the presence of a Muslim woman inside its walls, a presence that is shortly followed by a monk who goes missing and a mysterious falcon that makes itself at home among the remaining monks.

The story is filtered through the voice of someone reading the monastery chronicle centuries later, replete with ink blots that may or may not intentionally obscure names and influence the narrative. The Catholic monasteries of Bosnia and Herzegovina served, for hundreds of years, as repositories of community memory. The monks recorded births, deaths, marriages, and notable events, and these chronicles have become a rich source for modern writers like Jergović of everyday life in the distant past. 

After translating “Gurbet,” the first story in the collection, my co-translator Mirza Purić and I divided up the rest. Purić wrote the first draft of “Zulum.” Purić’s familiarity with Turkish, Arabic, and Persian, as well as his knowledge of Bosnian music, proved to be invaluable and was of special import in assembling a playlist of all 19 songs. Here is the song that inspired “Zulum.” My contribution was often my routines and practice from years of translating the literatures of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, and Serbia. Our liveliest discussion over his translation of “Zulum” was about how and where to switch between the past and present tenses in the narrative, as Slavic languages are far freer than English in switching between past and present voice. “Zulum” is a charming, and charmed, story, and both of us feel privileged to have been entrusted by Archipelago with bringing these tales to English.

– Ellen Elias-Bursać
Co-Translator of Inshallah, Madonna, Inshallah