/ world today news/ I thought while reading “Facebook is not a tango for two” by Stefan Severin
Let me warn you that he is my friend from childhood and mercy is inevitable.
Let me say that I have never accepted his narrow political angle. Unlike him, no good authority was found for me.
To announce that at this year’s book fair, our publisher’s stand was the only place where this book was offered. For almost five days I watched those who touched it, leafed through it, respected each other and…Someone returned it as if scalded. They couldn’t even find the right place for her. I suppose they fell into philippics, mostly against the Prime Minister and his close aides.
Others stopped by to read it for free. One of these visitors asked me if I had looked through this book and decided to quote me a touching fragment: a friend of Stefan’s picks him up in his jeep without explaining anything to him, drives him quietly from the Balkans all the way to the Rhodopes, takes him to a hill and lets him recording of “Rufinka, sick is lying down”. Then they both shed a tear. I kept quiet and listened.
This friend was also mine. I imagined how they both had a blast. Did they hug on the way out? They can do it. Sentiments. Who are you crying for today? For the years regretted in nonsense, for the life that separated us, for the Rufinka or for the Bulgarian woman, for Bulgaria, which was enslaved anew by several embassies and four military bases… And thousands of traitors, Lord, thousands! Who to cry for next.
I imagined Kannata, our classmate, who carried a soul as big as his hundred and twenty kilograms. However, it fit nicely on the threshold between the two times. There was no point in him leaving early. He caught a cold, which developed into fatal pneumonia in the hospital. No, no, his soul became sick from betrayals in his circle, from the banker’s tricks, etc.. Great men have fragile souls. Anyway. We Bulgarians are adaptable to exhaustion. If a murderer comes to us, we start killing each other, if a thief comes from outside, we are ready to rob ourselves to the point of impiety. This is how we survive who survives.
Ah…, I guess I’m starting to feel one of the strings of Stefan’s seven-string guitar…his Facebook one. I leave the other six for you. Run your vital fingers over them, and let the multi-storied chord, which replaces the one-line melody here…
But let’s go back to the Book Fair.
People were “showing interest,” as the bearded template says. Whether they respected each other or let her back as scalded – I counted them, the latter were more. But in general they didn’t buy it, as they did with the other titles. They still have no money, and the fair offers so many books that I wonder if anyone reads them at all. There are still no people and more and more books are offered. Book publishing became a big washing machine.
I think the visitors DID NOT recognize this book in the pile of books.
So I sat down to write these words. I plead for her RECOGNITION.
This book is a phenomenon, an outpouring of deeply secret energy, an attempt at personal catharsis by an author, muddied by years of all sorts of custom journalistic shenanigans. Through words, images, self-irony, memoir rebounds and political satire, Stephan has dealt both a blow and a caress to his past and the past of his colleagues, to the system for which we were forced to work and for which some now nostalgically dream. Looking at the misery of physical life today, I do not think that the two-faced image of the past should be simplified to a one-faced one and that it must be negative.
It is difficult to separate the personal from her political task in “Facebook is not a tango for two”. They are woven together like the fibers of a three-core cable, and if you pluck one strand, the free movement of electrons stops, no current flows, the field disappears, the magic of the word collapses lifeless.
The reflections of the author’s personality in the text are the most delicious to me. For me, they make the book, because by portraying his real characters in name and actions, my friend portrayed himself plastically, amusingly, you are glad to feel that everyone can remain human even when he takes away the humanity from his characters. The writer most often forgives, but with Stefan there is no forgiveness. “Wee, wee, you are idiots!” However, the interesting part comes from here and you read, read…
And so, the reflections of the author’s personality.
Stefan is handsome. See it below in the picture. Keep it noted often from the other half of the world. (I’ve been marked all my life.) That’s why I often change my profile pictures on my second home – Facebook. They are mostly from his younger years. One reader admitted to me that she likes him even more as an “adult”. And we gossiped that everyone needs love and is ready to get it from anywhere. As for the author of this book, he is ready to perform a virtual tango in space immediately and with each subsequent fan. Thus he disturbs his spiritual solitude, stirs up the physical vacuum by fitting his slim figure into it in yet another way. He is ready to be recognized as Narcissus, if only to remember him. I remember that he had taken his group from Feisa on an excursion around the Balkans.
He had vowed not to write a second book, but he did. And it reads in such a way that it is not worth not reading it. There are still no such books, the memoirs of that time are too serious or maliciously inflated, made to order. Disgust. Spiritual…
#burn #Dont #touch
