The Attic

By Danilo Kis

The Attic is Danilo Kiš’s first novel. Written in 1960, published in 1962, and set in contemporary Belgrade, it explores the relationship of a young man, known only as Orpheus, to the art of writing; it also tracks his relationship with a colorful cast of characters with nicknames such as Eurydice, Mary Magdalene, Tam-Tam,and Billy Wise Ass. Rich with references to music, painting, philosophy, and gastronomy, this bohemian Bildungsroman is a laboratory of technique and style for the young Kiš at once a depiction of life in literary Belgrade, a register of stylistic devices and themes that would recur throughout Kiš’s oeuvre, and an account of one young man's quest to find a way to balance his life, his loves, and his art.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dalkey Archive Press
• Release date: Aug 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781564787750

Book preview

EURYDICE

I listened to invisible trains weeping in the night and to crackly leaves latching onto the hard, frozen earth with their fingernails.

Everywhere packs of ravenous, scraggly dogs came out to meet us. They appeared out of dark doorways and squeezed through narrow openings in the fences. They would accompany us mutely in large packs. But from time to time they would raise their somber, sad eyes to look at us. They had some sort of strange respect for our noiseless steps, for our embraces.

Some heavy blue autumn plums dropped onto the path from a shadowy tree whose branches jutted over a fence. I had never believed that such firm blue plums could exist in autumn. But back then we were so preoccupied with our embraces that we didn’t pay any attention to things like that. And then one night, in a startling flash from the headlights of an old-fashioned car, we noticed that a band of dogs, which had so far followed us silently, was gathering plums, almost reverentially, from the gravelly road and the muddy ditch. All at once it became clear to me why the dogs were so silent and dejected: these wild autumn plums had contracted their vocal cords, as alum would. I heard only the pits, with which they were allaying their hunger, cracking between their teeth. It looked, however, as if they themselves were ashamed of all this; as soon as the car cast the unexpected illumination of its headlights, they hid in the ditch next to the road, though the ones who hadn’t had time to get out of the way remained stock still, as if

Reviews for The Attic

[jonfaith · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Lord, I've been living in that attic as if on a star.
Rather quickly The Attic becomes a wonderful, if inchoate tale. The novel is a Jules et Jim in Belgrade of the 1950s. Well, maybe it is. So much could be poetic fancy. The reader is never quite sure. Anyway it is two men living in a loft. . . well, you know, an attic. Orpheus and Igor are the names of the defendants. The former even has a lute. He meets the love of his life, though neither he nor the reader is fully convinced. Just as surprising is a detour into Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain, replete with the French dialogue. This becomes a hovering metaphor, the attic as sanitarium, being protected from the artless influences outside. It almost works. The pair then open their own bohemian tavern. The wine list is included in text.

The novel is simply too glib. Such is the result of a first novel, one Kiš likely wrote in two weeks on a whim. I think I read somewhere that he penned this as a result of a State contest he heard advertised on the radio.

[jwhenderson_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a story about a young man in Belgrade named Orpheus. His name alone resonates both in a literary and in a mythical way, creating an interest in his story from the opening pages. It also helped that, as the translator wrote, he is "a writer and a lute-player," and "a philosopher, a dreamer and--probably--a perpetual student". Thus he is a man after my own heart. What followed the opening was a dream-like, somewhat picaresque tale of his experiences in Belgrade with his friends, neighbors and a young girl named Eurydice. He describes that he first met her during a period when "I was feverishly demanding answers from life, so I was caught up in myself". (10) One of the list of philosophical questions (Orpheus liked to make lists, not unlike a literary predecessor named Rabelais) that he was contemplating was, conveniently, "the question of love", which leads him into an attempt to describe Eurydice. Here is his attempt to describe her voice:"The voice of a silver harp, of a viola with a mute, of a Renaissance lute, the voice of a Swedish guitar with thirteen strings, of Gothic organs or a miniature harpsichord, of a violin staccato or a guitar arpeggio in a minor key." (12) Did I mention the dream-like quality of the story?Orpheus lives in an attic with his friend Igor and the episodes in his life are strikingly imaginative, providing a contrast with his encounters with other people who seem reality-bound in contrast. Early in the book he describes his attempts to protect his books from rats, but this episode like so many others could easily be a dream. It is not that he does not notice the world around him, for at one point he decides to meet the world as it really is; but this does not deter him from his primary aim. He plans with his friend Igor (also known as Billy Wiseass) to "dedicate ourselves to our studies" at a rented tavern in a small country town. ""Books are an invention. . . But we will gather around us all kinds of desperados (we especially like this word in those days) and listen to authentic stories, authentic life experiences. Only that will constitute the true school of life," Billy explained excitedly." (74)Orpheus is writing a book called The Attic, as he tells his neighbor one morning. The neighbor replies that Orpheus should be careful not to ruin his eyesight with writing by candlelight. Rather he should write by daylight or at least accept the light bulb offered to him. Orpheus replies that "I write by candlelight . . . So that I create the right atmosphere." (108)This is a novel written by candlelight and it is in the shadows that the world creeps into the life of young Orpheus. His real life is in his mind and it is as interesting and beautiful as any imagined world could ever be. His life is the artist's life and his world is the writer's world with lists of qualities, learned digressions, and a touch of irony. In all of this the literary allusions seem fitting, just as the book naturally becomes a bit of a miniature bildungsroman.