Two civil servants loved each other. Passionately, like in the movies that used to be broadcast after midnight on Blue Moon TV. The bazaar is buzzing, new footage is emerging, everything is being shared at lightning speed, people are being flattered, they are being ridiculed, they are being moralized and inspired. Hence the title of this column, all with the aim of creating a diversion from the local sex affair to culture. The idea is to divert attention from this heated topic that everyone is obviously hooked on to something far more quality. Because who has read Henry Miller, Philip Roth, De Sade i Viržini Depent, this saga of two statesmen and their love-hate relationship really comes across as tasteless lemonade.
While we are overloaded with other people's dirty laundry, sex in the state manger and turbofolk libido, Botun and the collector, Davos and Greenland, we have missed something truly great. A writer from Bar, completely unobtrusive in the time of the intrusive, has written an exceptional novel worthy of attention. He obviously did not scream that there is no one like him in the world, that he is from Njegosha The best one here, that he is the first and God willing, he did not rush to positions in writers' associations, neither affiliated nor independent, he obviously loves to write and does it well.
Author Vladimir Vujovic published the novel “Conversations with a Witch”. The publisher is “Sumatra”, a small group of great enthusiasts and lovers of literature who are truly dedicated to doing a good job and publishing exceptional works. Vujović’s novel was shortlisted for the Nin Award this year. It did not win the award, but it was among the six best works.
Bearing in mind that for several years now there has been a lot of cultural buzz surrounding this award, and that the jury is now headed by Professor Alexander Jerkov, known as an uncompromising and self-aware critic and a great connoisseur of literature, Vladimir Vujović has obviously written a quality work and the jury did not miss this.
He wrote a novel first and foremost, in Montenegro where every hermetic-confessional nonsense is easily called a novel. Vladimir Vujović is a doctor, an orthopedic surgeon. But this novel is well-structured, balanced correctly between essays, dialogues, self-irony and what the New Yorker critics call smart intelligent humor. Even much larger cultures and countries would not be ashamed of such a novel.
But here, the news that his novel was shortlisted for the NIN award went unnoticed. The novel and the author have earned serious credit, regardless of the media's ignorance or lack of interest in Montenegro. This is a discreet writer, but a strong and serious novel and can certainly count on other regional awards.
This novel intertwines myths, identity issues (not ours but universal ones) and painting. A layered work, atypical and brave. Vladimir Vujović confirms the rule that doctors write well. When they managed to chew through six years of college and several years of specialization, internal medicine, anatomy and learn how the body works, all that was left for them was to interpret what was happening with their thoughts. Arthur Conan Doyle, Chekhov, Bulgakov, Jovan Jovanović Zmaj i Laza Lazarevic, all of them were physicians who proved themselves as writers.
I may owe my readers an apology for drawing attention to this text with an explicit title, but Vladimir Vujović's novel is worth reading, and it's worth setting a trap to make it known. If you've enjoyed watching pornographic images and videos of civil servants, move on to quality literature. It's time for something quality.
Bonus video:
