Depending where one draws the borders of Europe, Vilnius lies near its centre. It has not been spared. Occupations, wars, vanishings: a city that forgets and remembers in the same breath.
Vilnius Poker (set in the 1970s) makes the city itself its villain.
“Vilnius suffers, oppressed by inactivity and somnolence, remembering the Iron Wolf like a dream. It should have howled through the ages, but grew decrepit long ago, sickened with throat cancer; its metastases eat away at the city’s brain too.”
The Iron Wolf: dream of a Duke, a city born from it. A symbol that, over centuries, dissolves into its opposite.
“A lonely tower, emerging from the overgrown slopes of the hill—the phallic symbol of Vilnius. Short, stumpy, powerful: a phallus that hasn’t been able to get aroused in a long time.”
The ruined castle: shameless, impotent, paraded across postcards and brochures. The great symbol of a castrated city.
The novel’s structure: four narrators, circular time, impossible versions of the same events. Lives refracted through fear, absurdity, dissimulation.
Elizabeth Novickas, the translator, writes:
“Yes, I suppose one could summarize something of the plot […] but how to include that time also goes around in circles, and on two occasions actually stops?”
Behind the narratives: a lament. European literature, stripped of metaphysics, abandoned to realia. Playfulness gone; the soul gone; the surface ruling everything.
“The throng was concerned about bread, so literature had to write about bread.”
Kafka appears and disappears through the novel’s folds: so too Camus, Sabato, Plato, Joyce, Beckett. Gavelis speaks of Beckett with a harsh, reverent honesty.
“He quite honestly showed the sorry state of the kanuked man the way it really is.”
The novel is imperfect: the first part sharper, necessary; later sections drawn toward explanation. Still, its force persists. A howl that no longer reaches the surface, but is felt somewhere below it.
I encountered Ričardas Gavelis’ Vilnius Poker through Emily’s suggestion: a fittingly unstructured invitation to a novel that refuses to settle into any structure at all.
>Ineed to pick this up it appeal to me on the list of books for non structured books ,even more after your review anthony like that you say he has been influenced by camus and Joyce sounds like a interesting mix ,all the best stu
>Hello Stu, I suspect Gavelis's greatest influence is Kafka but the Joycean esteem is also clear from this book.
>I'm so glad you spotlight the way Gavelis incorporates European literary and art history into Vargalys's paranoia/worldview – that was one of the many things I wanted to get to but ran out of space/time. It was so interesting the way historical & literary figures seemed so immediately present to him – both those he perceived as allies and those he thought of as enemies. I agree that the first narration is the strongest, but I also felt the subsequent ones enriched the book a lot, if only in contorting its absurdism into different channels! I loved the way the different narratives both explain and contradict each other.Very glad Stefa got her own section, also – I think that went a long way toward counteracting Vargalys's misogyny, even if I hated reading the rape scene. In any case, thanks so much for joining us for Vilnius Poker, Anthony – it was a real commitment, so great to have you along!
>Thanks, Emily, I wouldn't have read Vilnius Poker without this inducement, and I am delighted that I did.I didn't mention how Gavelis manipulated time, but have thought a lot about it since.Agree completely about Stefa's narration. It was important.
>I was so annoyed by Gavelis' style (in particular the first narrator's obsession with the odd couple of genitalia and italics), especially after what I'd considered a promising start, that I dropped it after a little more than 100 pages. While I enjoyed both your post and Emily's, Anthony, I'm not sure that the interesting narrative features you both highlight would have made up for the narrative excesses for me. Not my cup of tea and all that.
>Richard – With such an idiosyncratic style, Vilnius Poker is not the sort of book you can read if you are feeling ambivalent about that style.