An Anthology of Croatian Literature

Miroslav Krleza (1893-1981)

Miroslav Krleža (1893–1981) Many consider Krleža to be the most important Croatian writer of the twentieth century. He is certainly among the most translated, and not only into English . His works, which include novels, short stories, plays, poetry, reportage, and other genres, reflect his wide-ranging literary interests and abilities, as well as his leftist orientation. He is considered by some a “Pannonian” writer, in that he delved with real mastery into the culture, history, and psychology of that vast expanse of Central Europe where Germanic, Hungarian, and Slavic currents have crossed and clashed. He was most prolific between the wars, and oddly reticent artistically after World War II, when the political atmosphere was decidedly in his favor. He was, however, active with administrative duties, and circulated at the highest social and political levels then. His tendency to question long-held, traditional Croatian self-perceptions made him popular but also controversial (e.g., he is alleged to have said: “God save me from Serbian heroism and Croatian culture,” a dangerous sentiment in either royal or Communist Yugoslavia). The following story, entitled in the original “Kako je doktor Gregor prvi put sreo Nečastivog” (1932), is drawn from Yugoslav Fantastic Prose, Branko Mikasinovich and Dragan Milivojević, eds. and trans. (Belgrade: Vajat, 1991): 109–15; the translator is Dragan Milivojević. An Anthology of Croatian Literature 152 How Doctor Gregor Met the Devil for the First Time in His Life Doctor Kamilo Gregor smoked sixty cigarettes that night and he spoke somewhat softly. He drank a lot but it could not be established that he was drunk. Doctor Gregor was an important and interesting person in the Glembay complex . In Moscow around 1925, he told us about his first meeting with the Devil.
 I got to know him one July night on the Greek boat “Angelika” between Pireus and Thessalonica somewhere in the channel near Halkis. This was twelve years ago. I was then a complete snotnose and thought only in terms of ideas. So, for example, I believed in Hegel’s ideas “der Begriff,” “die Realität des Begriffs,” “das objektiv wahre Sinn,” and “die sich wissende Wahrheit.”* All this was wrapped up in my head along with tri-colored, pure Garibaldi ideas: Mazzini, Piedmont, Risorgimento, and the like. So I thought that the idea of war was a Hegelian idea that could elevate all human worries and sorrows to some higher, magnetic state; that it could spiritualize all that was petty in ourselves into some unbelievable, supernatural frenzy which justifies the shedding of human blood. With such a way of thinking, I found myself that night on the Greek boat “Angelika” on the way to Thessalonica. I had, by then, gone through much slaughter and I had seen much misery, but Hegel’s and Garibaldi’s ideas somehow remained in my head as a system. The starry night was warm. The south wind rocked “Angelika” slowly and monotonously while the wind grew gradually. A small Egyptian Jewess was dying on the deck of the third class among chains and ropes. Women were crying around her, saying it was sunstroke. Everything smelled of pitch and tar. He (that is, the devil, according to Dr. Gregor’s remarks) appeared in the thinning darkness. He wore black gloves made of thread and he declared that he was a medical doctor from Smyrna and that the crisis was over. “The little one will stay alive.” In that way we came to know him because of this small Egyptian Jewess. He approached me, a Serbian soldier, and started a conversation with me of a most common nature. He told me that he was born in Epirus, that he was employed in Smyrna, that he fought as a Greek guerrilla round Janjina in the nineties, that the Greek-Serbian interests were parallel, that Thessalonica would probably fall into the Serbian sphere of interest (before the Bulgarian megalomaniac’s neck was crushed). He spoke as familiar people talk to each other in wartime. * Concept, the reality of a concept, the objective true sense, the truth which is conscious of itself Miroslav Krleža 153 I thought, then, in the following way: “When the masses become enthusiastic with the folk ‘idea,’ when they become overwhelmed with a higher, prophetic frenzy; when ‘the idea’ of Vardar, Agean Sea, and White Eagles elevates them, then this will be a great moment.” In this state of mind...