Tina Bilban o romanu Ne bom se več drsal na bajerju Lada Kralja

Pa začnimo pri naslovu. Ta vsekakor ni klasičen  ̶  kdo se ne bo več drsal? In o kakšnem drsanju in kakšnem bajerju je sploh govora? A kot mojster teorije drame Kralj pred občinstvo ob prvem stiku ne postavlja elementov, ki se ne bi ob izteku izkazali za še kako relevantne. Kraljev roman se pred bralcem odvija na več ravneh in se spogleduje z različnimi žanri, vse pa uspešno povezuje z naslovom.

Kralj nam dogajanje podaja skozi pogled Ivana Kneza, šestnajstletnika, ki je v Ljubljano skupaj z mamo in očetom, profesorjem slovenščine, pribežal iz Maribora ob nemški okupaciji in Hitlerjevem naročilu: »Machen sie mir dieses Land wieder deutsch«. A njegov, včasih pristranski in osebni vpogled, se pogosto precej razširi. Bralcu dopušča vpogled v zgodovino (Ivanova učena punca Eva Verdonik je veliko časa preživela v arhivih) in prihodnost, njegov pogled seže preko Ljubljane in okolice vse do Italije, posebej dobro pa pozna Šiško,  njene prebivalce, zgradbe in krajino. Kralj nam tako omogoča vpogled od znotraj, kar pomeni tudi onstran žice, razen kadar se Ivan splazi skozi katerega od prehodov na drugo stran, pa tudi razširjen pogled, ki osrednjo zgodbo postavlja v širši kontekst. Pred bralcem se razpira zgodba o specifičnem času in prostoru, o vojni, o Ljubljani: o ljudeh, ki jih usmrtijo, ker so na njivi pobirali krompir, in o ljudeh, ki preživijo, ker so se zgrudili v grmovje na pravem mestu. Na videz banalne odločitve postanejo življenjsko pomembne. Ivan Knez se, tudi po zaslugi nasvetov zaščitnika in kolega Vosovca Kunde, po tem novem svetu presenetljivo okretno giblje, razumeva njegova nenapisana in dinamična pravila. A tudi njemu se zgodi, da slabo oceni nevarnost nedolžne zabave. Z Evo, karizmatično gojenko dekliške gospodinjske šole sv. Frančiška Kristusa Kralja hodi drsat na grajski bajer. Grožnje italijanskih vojakov, da je zbiranje prepovedano, jemlje kot le grožnje  ̶  v najslabšem primeru jih bodo popisali in razgnali. Dokler italijanski vojaki nekega večera ne pridejo s kamioni in polovijo mlade ljudi kot ribe v mrežo. Ivan ve, zaprli jih bodo, nato pa vse starejše od petnajst let poslali v koncentracijska taborišča, od koder se večina ne vrne. Z Evo jima za las uspe z roba bajerja pobegniti v gozd, kjer se skrivata do naslednjega dne. Ivanu pa še dolgo ob pogledu na bajer ritmično udarja v glavi: »Ne bom se več drsal na bajerju.«  

Skozi Ivanovo pripoved se, pa čeprav je zelo redko osredotočena nanj samega, pred bralci izrisuje tudi pripovedovalec  ̶  kompleksen posameznik, ki, razpet med zgodovino in prihodnost, med družino, Kundo in Evo, odrašča. In odraste. V zaključku romana je pred nami Ivan, ki se sedaj, vajen sprejemati odgovornost za druge, morda sicer manj okretno giblje med napisanimi in nenapisanimi dinamičnimi pravili, zato pa je bolj sposoben videti različne poti v prihodnost in si izbrati svojo. Ivan, ki se, ker je tega obdobja življenja konec, ne bo več drsal na bajerju.

Čeprav utegne bralec mestoma podvomiti v prvoosebnega pripovedovalca (ni bila ta informacija poprej podana nekoliko drugače?) ta s svojo načitanostjo in širino pogleda pogosto daje občutek vsevednega pripovedovalca. Ivanova pripoved o nekem času in prostoru se širi navzven in zgodbo o okupirani Ljubljani vseskozi postavlja v širši okvir. S tem ne relativizira vojnih zločinov okupatorja nad civilnim prebivalstvom, onemogoča pa delitev na prave in neprave, na bele in črne. Tako se lahko pred nami izrišejo ljudje v vseh sivinah svoje človeškosti, ujeti v kolesje zgodovine, ki ga poganjajo tisti ob ročicah. Želja po moči poskrbi za menjavanje ob ročicah: prihajajo novi, a ne nujno drugačni. Tako se Ivanova pripoved tudi ne zaključi z osvoboditvijo Ljubljane, temveč se nadaljuje v obdobje po njej, ko se podoba Šiške bliskovito spremeni. Kljub nasprotovanju okoliških prebivalcev, ki so dobronamerno opozorjeni, da naj se o usodi gradu in nun ne oglašajo prenaglas, je ljudska oblast porušila grad Jama, grajski bajer pa izsušila, saj je regljanje žab motilo majorja Ozne v bližnji vili. Tako se ne bo nihče več drsal po bajerju.

Z Ne bom se več drsal po bajerju je uspelo Kralju spisati večglasno delo, ki šele kot tako lahko pripoveduje prepričljivo zgodbo o okupirani Ljubljani, Šiški in Ivanu ter hkrati o našem prostoručasu in nas samih. Pred nami je roman o odraščanju, zgodovinski in (proti)vojni roman. Pa tudi roman, s katerim se zaključuje avtorjev opus. Lado Kralj ni dočakal nominacij za osrednje slovenske nagrade, ki jih lahko prejme romaneskno delo  ̶   kresnika, kritiško sito in Cankarjevo nagrado. S tem pa prvoosebni zapis na platnici za bralce, ki ostajamo, zadobi še dodaten pomen: Ne bom se več drsal na bajerju.

Tina Bilban o I Won’t Be Ice Skating On the Pond Anymore by Lado Kralj

Let’s start by discussing the title. It is certainly not typical – who won’t be ice skating anymore? And what kind of ice skating and what kind of pond are we talking about? But as a master of dramatic theory, Kralj does not place elements before the audience upon first contact that would not turn out to be highly relevant at the end. Kralj’s novel unfolds for the reader on several levels, flirting with different genres, all artfully connected to the title.

Kralj presents the events from the point of view of Ivan Knez, a 16-year-old who fled to Ljubljana from Maribor with his mother and father, a professor of Slovenian language, during the German occupation and Hitler’s order: “Machen sie mir dieses Land wieder deutsch” (“Make this land German again”). But his sometimes biased and personal insight is often quite wide-ranging. He gives the reader a glimpse into history (Ivan’s educated girlfriend Eva Verdonik has spent a lot of time in the archives) and the future, his view extends beyond Ljubljana and its surroundings as far as Italy, and he knows Šiška, its people, buildings, and landscape particularly well. Kralj thus gives us a view from the inside, which also means beyond the barbed wire, except when Ivan crawls through one of the passages to the other side, but also an expanded view that puts the central story in a broader context. Before the reader unfolds a story about a specific time and place, about war, about Ljubljana, about people who are killed for picking potatoes in a field, and about people who survive because they collapsed in the bushes in the right place. Seemingly trivial decisions become vital. Ivan Knez, also due to the advice of his protector and colleague Vosovec Kunda, traverses this new world with surprising agility, understanding its unwritten and dynamic rules. But even he happens to poorly assess the danger of harmless fun. He goes ice-skating with Eva, a charismatic student of the St. Francis of Christ the King Domestic School for Girls, on the castle’s pond. He takes the threats of Italian soldiers that gathering is prohibited as mere warnings  ̶ in the worst case, they would take their information and send them on their way. Until one evening, when Italian soldiers arrive with trucks and capture young people like fish in a net. Ivan knows they will imprison them and then send everyone above the age of fifteen to concentration camps, from where the majority would not return. He and Eva barely manage to escape from the edge of the pond into the forest, where they hide until the next day. For a long time, at the sight of the lake, the following words rhythmically echo in Ivan’s head: “I won’t be ice skating on the pond anymore.”

Through Ivan’s narrative, although it rarely focuses on him, the outline of the narrator – a complex individual who is growing up, torn between history and the future, between his family, Kunda, and Eva – emerges before the readers. And he grows up. At the end of the novel, we see Ivan, who, now used to taking responsibility for others, may be less agile in moving between the written and unwritten dynamic rules, but is more capable of seeing different paths to the future and choosing his own. Ivan, who, because this period of his life is over, won’t be ice skating on the pond anymore.

Although the reader may at times doubt the first-person narrator (wasn’t this information given slightly differently before?), he often gives the impression of an omniscient narrator due to him being well-read and open-minded. Ivan’s narrative of a time and place expands outwards, always placing the story of occupied Ljubljana in a broader context. By doing so, he does not relativise the occupier’s war crimes against the civilian population, but he makes it impossible to divide them into right and wrong, white and black. In this way, people in all the grey areas of their humanity can be outlined before us, caught in the wheels of history, driven by those at the handles. The desire for power ensures a switch in the reins: new ones are coming, but they are not necessarily different. Thus, Ivan’s narrative does not end with the liberation of Ljubljana, but continues into the post-liberation period, when the image of Šiška rapidly changes. Despite the objections of the surrounding inhabitants, who were good-naturedly advised not to voice their opinions too loudly about the fate of the castle and the nuns, the popular sovereignty demolished the Jama Castle and drained its pond, as the croaking of frogs disturbed the major of the Department for People’s Protection (OZNA) in the nearby villa. Thus no one will be ice skating on the pond anymore.

With I Won’t Be Ice Skating On the Pond Anymore, Kralj has succeeded in writing a multi-voiced literary work, which only as such can tell a convincing story about occupied Ljubljana, Šiška, and Ivan, and at the same time about our space and time and ourselves. This is a coming-of-age, historical, and (anti)war novel. And also a novel that concludes the author’s complete works. Lado Kralj did not live to see his nominations for the main Slovenian awards that works of fiction can receive – the Kresnik Award, the Kritiško Sito Award, and the Cankar Award. This gives the first-person writing on the cover an additional meaning for us, the readers who remain: I won’t be ice skating on the pond anymore.

Objavo je omogočila Javna agencija za knjigo