Reading: Leeches, David Albahari

The second of my Belgradian books. No one could regard this involuted and unparagraphed meditation on prejudice, madness, and mystic experience as a young adult novel.

That word conspiracy again, except this time it had far more credence. Somewhere deep down I saw the flash of Margarete’s thigh, which I still blame for everything.

Leeches, David Albahari, trans Ellen Elias-Bursac, NYRB edition, p 290

Leeches in a jar, in an apothecary’s window, are among my family’s memories of Sarajevo, circa 1970.

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One thought on “Reading: Leeches, David Albahari

  1. lisa peet says:

    Hm… I have that one buried somewhere. Worth exhuming, do you think?

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