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Elke Heidenreich
Rumena Bužarovska is a Macedonian who has made a veritable bestseller with eleven stories about men.
And look: the man is beautifully scratched, as we do, in photos with men we no longer love.
But it is rare that Suhrkamp-Verlag has done such a bold and humorous cover here.
Eleven stories: It's never the same man and never the same woman.
But every story is told first-hand by a woman and she is told about her husband.
He can already be dead.
He can be a gynecologist, an artist, a diplomat.
But it is always a marriage and family hell that these women are describing.
It's stupid liars, the men, machos, who betrayed them.
And what started out beautifully as love has gone completely wrong.
And so there is always an undertone of sadness among these outraged and angry stories.
There was love there once.
It was nice once.
How did it all get lost?
The anger of women is so great because they know and feel how much they depend on their husbands, socially.
How much your reputation is determined by your husband's job or behavior.
Whether he's cheating on them or not, the whole neighborhood knows. And even if these women are working, it's all about this man and the standing of that man in society.
And the author Bužarovska said in an interview: »It has to do with the fact that the large structure of Yugoslavia was broken up and that the structures changed as a result.
Then there was a revival of religious behavior and patriarchal structures.
The Macedonians discovered their Orthodox roots, the Albanians their Muslim roots, and it all happened on the backs of women. ”And these women are very angry.
The book was published in Macedonia in 2014 and only now with us.
And I think a lot has changed there in the last seven years and a little different family structure is the order of the day again.
But the book is fun to read because it's so angry, because it's so polemical.
And I've never read sex scenes as funny as the one at Bužarovska, when everything goes wrong.
He suddenly has to fart during the act, yes, it can happen.
She pukes because she drank too much alcohol before.
Or you're just walking around in the car and the police come in and say: "Can I see the papers." It's all very strange.
They tell mercilessly, these women and angry, but without hatred.
There are explosions that have the undertone: We are no longer bluffed.
We no longer allow ourselves to be lied to.
We are also no longer impressed.
Not even if you write us poetry.
For example, one of them says: “If you fall for something like that, the poems my husband writes.
These are ladies who are a bit heavier with wrinkles on the hips and under the armpits where the brassiere cuts into their fat.
They wear tight blouses.
Her hair is mostly black and her lipstick is red.
They often have a dramatic hat on their heads.
Large, sparkling costume jewelry adorns her fleshy fingers and necks.
You want to shine with mature femininity, with a mysterious aura.
They want to smell of cinnamon and their voice to be soft as velvet.
Shall you go!
Maybe Goran can help them with that.
I don't care. "
Wonderful stories.
»My husband« scratched by Rumena Bužarovska.
Published by Suhrkamp, my top title.