17 Comments

"Neighborhood solidarity in helping each other with hard-to-obtain goods evaporates; money which was much less important than food coupons obtained at one’s workplace, becomes the king; attending the afternoon mathematics club makes no longer any sense" - how true! Writing from the perspective of Poland - we used to be tyranized by politics, ideology (by and large ineffectively, we were leading a double life) and some material deficits (it was livable though). Now we are tyranized by money (effectively).

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p.s. the change was long awaited, it was experienced as a great emancipation - and so it was, but there is a subtle yet profound loss involved

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This is fascinating, mainly the "tyranized by politcs, ideology" (and consequent double life) Vs. "tyranized by money". We, in the west, don't get the full picture of a easterner who lived under the Iron Curtain and how they look at these modern times.

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Thank you. I wrote it spontanously, after reading Branko's review. To be clear - I am far from defending the communist system and its horrors, I just want to stress the human factor at work there. Under the conditions of relative deprivation and lack of external freedom, people would sometimes develop rare qualities and solidarity ties.

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Don't worry, I didn't understood a preference of the communist system, but noted the interesting comparison on different tyrannys. And those solidarity ties on the oppressed communities are also very intriguing!

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Please eead Alexei Yurchak's Everything was forever until it was no more - amazing analysis of late Soviet condition

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Thanks for the reference!

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As a Portuguese who grew up the 80's, the post-soviet Era is very unkown to me. I'm suspicious of a Western lens (or myopia) on the subject and after reading this post I'm sure to read Lea Ypi's book. Thanks for this beautiful text and insight.

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But, most importantly, a real text for real readers. It is not a joke, not a hyperbole,

what you write comes from a trusted source.

An accumulation of wisdom, coming after an honest life, and an inquiring mind.

Branko, you should write more.

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Thank you! Sincerely.

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The countries of the socialist East came from the nineteenth-century empires that collapsed with the First World War. There, capitalism was limited to a few centers; after the fall of socialism they had no capitalist past to return to (except for individual cases like that of the Ypi family). Therefore, primitive accumulation had to take place in an accelerated form and who better than criminals to accelerate the process? As a result, improvised entrepreneurs, swindlers and common criminals prevailed almost everywhere: hooligans who soon turned into oligarchs. Like the Robber Barons of New York, with the difference that there, the parvenus were confronted with an established power with which they had to come to terms in order, in due course, to become part of it; in Albania, all power dissolved and the most astute representatives of the party recycled themselves as functionaries of Western organizations that came to clean up all social property: allies of the oligarchs in the robbery. The common people were dazzled by the splendor of the goods for sale and when they began to glimpse the shape of things to come, it was too late. Could the blow have been softened and the poorest prevented from being stripped of everything? Not in Albania, perhaps in Yugoslavia where there was greater awareness of the outside world; it is no coincidence that there it took a much longer and bloodier civil war to eradicate every collectivist residue. "Communism" left subtle traces of a mentality aimed at the common good; but nothing that could withstand the war of all against all unleashed by the return of capitalism. Lea's father, a forestry engineer, after a life spent scouring the woods, is sorry to see them cut down for profit; he will die of pollution. Thanks to the compensation for the property belonging to her ancestors - the presentable and legalistic aspect of the restoration of capitalism - Lea can continue her studies in Italy, to eventually become a professor of Marxism in London; and she will never return to Albania. All this requires a moral to sum it up; but I don't feel so good, either.

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Excellent, honest, real.

The best part for me is the comment on how majority of former communist countries end up criticizing someone else, Soviets now Russians, Tito, Serbians…etc.

So true.

Albanians were so isolated, Albanian communism an Albaninan enterprise, they had no one other to accuse.

Possible result they matured faster.

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Very profound insight into history and story telling.

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Thank you very much, Robertinho. It is a great book. Easy to write about.

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Thank you for your thoughts on Lea Ypi's book, which I think is fascinating. Your essay is interesting - although I am not sure I quite understand what you mean when you say you read the final sections of the book as fiction. I also wonder if you might find Jenny Erpenbeck's novels and other writings worth reading.

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I mean that the writing is so good that it moves from telling the events to making us understand that what we are reading here are not specific facts but much more importantly a story about the human condition. It thus becomes literature rather than autobiography. Proust is a good example for the difference between the two. So it is not about the final section as such but about my understanding of the book.

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I am an admirer of Lea Ypi's work and Free is undoubtedly revelatory, rings true (even for a distantly located non-Easterner such as myself) and is quite moving. But I found its Proustian quality quite troubling. It is after all meant to be autobiographical and historical, and while I share the view that the past - and the human condition - is often better evoked with poetic license, it does raise the question of what is believable. Taking an excerpt at random from Chapter 2, what is one to make of a passage like this: "My father breathed a sigh of relief and then, noticing me, turned severe. 'Go to your room," he ordered." 'It was not a protest. They were uligans,' I muttered as I walked through the courtyard, wondering why my father had used that other word: protest." The rest of the chapter is filled with long dialogues in quotes. This takes place when she is about 12, I infer. Perhaps Ypi kept a detailed diary or notes, or can recall with extraordinary accuracy and precision. Or perhaps Free belongs to that elusive genre - creative non-fiction. This is a question that arises as frequently as it is (now fashionably) ignored in social science and historical work generally.

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