The Bridge on the Drina - PDFDrive.com

by Ivo Andrić

  beensaidhereinafewlinesandwhathadinfacttakenplaceinafewmonths.

  Notevenindreamsdidfrontierschangesoquicklyorgosofaraway.

  All that had lain quiescent in men, as ancient as that bridge and equally dumb

  andmotionless,nowsuddenlycamealiveandbegantoinfluencetheireveryday

  life,theirgeneralmoodandthepersonalfateofeveryindividual.

  Thefirstsummerdaysof1913wererainyandoppressive.Onthe kapia byday

  sat the Moslems of the town, morose and disconsolate, about a dozen elderly

  men grouped around a younger one who read to them from the newspapers,

  interpreting foreign expressions and unusual names and explaining the

  geography.Allsmokedpeacefullyandgazedunwaveringlyinfrontofthembut

  could not completely conceal that they were anxious and shaken. Hiding their

  emotion,theybentoverthemapwhichshowedthefuturepartitionoftheBalkan

  Peninsula.Theylookedatthepaperandsawnothinginthosecurvinglines,but

  theyknewandunderstoodeverything,fortheirgeographywasintheirbloodand

  theyfeltbiologicallytheirpictureoftheworld.

  'WhowillgetUskub(Skoplje)?'askedoneoldman,apparentlyindifferently,to

  theyouthwhowasreading.

  'Serbia.'

  'Uh!'

  'AndwhowillgetSalonica?'

  'Greece.'

  'Uh!Uh!'

  'AndJedrene?'askedanotherinalowvoice.

  'Bulgaria,probably.'

  'Uh!Uh!Uh!'

  Thesewerenotloudandmournfulwailings,likewomenorweaklings,butdeep

  andstifledsighswhichwerelostwiththetobaccosmokewhichdriftedthrough

  their moustaches into the summer air. Many of these old men had passed their seventieth year. In their childhood, the Turkish power had stretched from the

  LikaandtheKordunrighttoStambulandfromStambultotheuncertaindesert

  frontiersoffaroffandillimitableArabia(thatTurkishpowerhadbeenthegreat,

  indivisible and indestructible unity of the Moslem faith, all that part of the

  terrestrial globe where the muezzin called the faithful to prayer). They

  rememberedthatwell,buttheyalsorememberedhow,lateron,inthecourseof

  theirlives,thatTurkishpowerhadwithdrawnfromSerbiaintoBosniaandthen

  from Bosnia into the Sanjak. And now, now they lived to see that power like

  somefantasticoceantidesuddenlywithdrawandpassawaysomewherefarout

  ofsight,whiletheyremainedhere,deceivedandmenaced,likeseaweedondry

  land,lefttotheirowndevicesandtheirownevilfate.AllthiscamefromGod

  andwas,withoutdoubt,envisagedintheordinancesofGod,butitwashardfor

  men to understand; their breath came short, their consciousness was troubled,

  theyfeltasifthesolidearthwasbeingdrawnirresistiblyawayfromundertheir

  feet as if it were a carpet, and how frontiers which should have been firm and

  lastinghadbecomefluidandshifting,movingawayandlostinthedistancelike

  thecapriciousrivuletsofspring.

  With such thoughts and feelings the old men sat on the kapia and listened vaguelytoallthatthenewspaperswrote.Theylistenedsilentlythoughthewords

  in which the papers spoke of kingdoms and states seemed to them mad,

  impudent and out of place, and their whole manner of writing as something

  godless, contrary to the eternal laws and the logic of life, something which

  would'getnobetter'andwithwhichnodecentorhonourablemancouldbecome

  reconciled.Abovetheirheadsfloatedcloudsoftobaccosmoke,andintheskies

  cruisedwhite,fleecycloudsofarainysummer,castingquickbroadshadowson

  theearth.

  At night on the kapia youths from the Serbian houses sat till the small hours, singing loudly and provocatively the song about the Serbian gun and no one

  cametofineorpunishthem.Amongstthemcouldoftenbenoticedstudentsfrom

  the universities or secondary schools. They were mostly thin, pale youths with

  longhairandblackshallowhatswithwidebrims.Thatautumntheycamevery

  often,thoughtheschoolyearhadalreadycommenced.Theycamebytrainfrom

  Sarajevo with instructions and recommendations, passed the night here on

  the kapia, butwerenolongerinthetownatdawnnextdayfortheyoungmenof

  VišegradsentthemonbyundergroundroutestoSerbia.

  With the summer months, at the time of the school holidays, the town and

  the kapia became lively with schoolboys and students, born in the town and returningtotheirhomes.Theyinfluencedthewholelifeofthetown.

  At the end of June a group of students from the Sarajevo secondary school

  arrived in the town and in the first half of July students of law, medicine and

  philosophyfromtheUniversitiesofVienna,Prague,GrazandZagreb,beganto

  arriveonebyone.Withtheirarrivaleventheoutwardaspectofthetownbegan

  to change. Their young faces could be seen in the marketplace and on

  the kapia andtheywereeasilydistinguishablebytheirbearing,theirspeechand

  their clothes from the established customs and unchanging clothing of the

  townspeople.Theyworeclothesofdullcoloursandthelatestcut.Thiswasthe

  'Glôckenfaçon'thenconsideredtheheightoffashionandthebestoftasteinall

  Central Europe. On their heads they wore soft Panama hats with turned down

  brims and ribbons of six different but discreet colours; on their feet wide

  American shoes with sharply turned up toes. Most of them carried very thick

  bamboocanesandinthelapelsoftheircoatstheyworemetalSokolbadgesor

  thoseofsomestudentorganization.

  Thestudentsbroughtwiththemnewwordsandjokes,newdancesfromtheballs

  ofthepreviouswinter,andespeciallynewbooksandpamphlets,Serbian,Czech

  andGerman.

  It had happened earlier too, in the first years of the Austrian occupation, that

  youngmenfromthetownhadgoneawaytostudy,butnotinsuchlargenumbers

  norinspiredbythissortofspirit.Inthosefirstfewdecadesafewofthemhad

  finishedattheTeachers'TrainingCollegeatSarajevo,andtwoorthreehadeven

  read philosophy at Vienna, but these had been rare exceptions, modest youths

  whohadpassedtheirexaminationsquietlyandwithoutadvertisementandonce

  theirstudieshadbeencompletedhadbeenlostinthegreyandcountlessranksof

  the state bureaucracy. But for some time past the number of students from the

  town had suddenly increased. By the help of national cultural institutions even

  peasants'sonsandthechildrenofpettyartisanswenttotheuniversity.Thespirit

  andcharacterofthestudentsthemselveschanged.

  These were no longer those onetime students of the first years after the

  occupation,mildandtimidyouthsdevotedtotheirstudiesintheclosestsenseof

  theword.Butneitherweretheytheordinarytowndandiesandgoodfellowsofan

  earliertime,futurelandownersandshopkeeperswhoatacertainperiodintheir
r />   lives wasted their excess of youth and strength on the kapia till their families said of them: 'Marry him off and stop his squalling!' These were a new sort of

  young men, educated in various cities and states and under various influences.

  From the great cities, from the universities and schools which they attended,

  theseyoungmencamebackintoxicatedwiththatfeelingofproudaudacitywith

  which his first and incomplete knowledge fills a young man, and carried away

  byideasabouttherightsofpeoplestofreedomandofindividualstoenjoyment

  and dignity. With every summer vacation they brought back with them free-

  thinkingviewsonsocialandreligiousquestionsandanenthusiasticallyrevived

  nationalism which recently, especially after the Serbian victories in the Balkan

  wars, had grown to a universal conviction and, in many of these youths, to a

  fanaticaldesireforactionandpersonalsacrifice.

  The kapia was the main scene of their meetings. They would meet there after supper.Inthedarkness,underthestarsorinthemoonlight,abovetheboisterous

  river,echoedtheirsongs,jests,noisyconversationandendlessarguments,new,

  bold,naïve,sincereandunself-conscious.

  Withthestudentswerealsotheirchildhoodfriendswhohadstudiedwiththemin

  thelocalelementaryschool,buthadremainedinthetownasapprentices,shop

  assistants or clerks in the municipal offices. There were two types. Some were

  satisfied with their destiny and the life of the town in which they would pass

  theirdays.Theylookedwithcuriosityandsympathyattheireducatedcomrades,

  admired them and never thought of comparing themselves with them, and,

  withouttheslightestjealousy,followedtheirdevelopmentandtheircareer.There

  were others who were dissatisfied with life in the town to which they were

  condemned by force of circumstances and who longed for something that they

  consideredhigherandbetterandwhichhadescapedthem,becomingeveryday

  farther away and more inaccessible. Though they used to meet together with

  their student comrades, these youths usually kept apart from their educated

  fellowseitherbysomecrudeformofironyorbytheirunfriendlysilence.They

  could not take part as equals in their conversations.'Therefore, constantly

  tormented by their feeling of inferiority, they now exaggerated and stressed in

  conversation their crudeness and ignorance by comparison with their more

  fortunatecomradesor,fromtheheightoftheirignorance,mockedatallthatthey

  could not understand. In either case, envy breathed out of them as an almost

  visibleandtangibleforce.Butyoutheasilybearswitheventheworstinstincts,

  andlivesandmovesfreelyandeasilyamongstthem.

  Therehadbeenandtherewouldbeagainstarlightnightsonthe kapia and rich

  constellations and moonlight, but there had never been, and God alone knows

  whethertherewouldbeagain,suchyoungmenwhoinsuchconversationsand

  with such feelings and ideas would keep vigil on the kapia. That was a generation of rebel angels, in that short moment while they still had all the

  power and all the rights of angels and also the flaming pride of rebels. These

  sons of peasants, traders or artisans from a remote Bosnian township had

  obtainedfromfate,withoutanyspecialeffortoftheirown,afreeentryintothe

  world and the great illusion of freedom. With their inborn small-town

  characteristics,theywentoutintotheworld,chosemoreorlessforthemselves

  and according to their own inclinations, momentary moods or the whims of

  chance, the subject of their studies, the nature of their entertainments and the

  circleoftheirfriendsandacquaintances.Forthemostparttheywereunable,or

  didnotknowhow,toseizeandmakeuseofwhattheysucceededinseeing,but

  therewasnotoneofthemwhodidnothavethefeelingthathecouldtakewhat

  hewishedandthatallthathetookwashis.Life(thatwordcameupveryoftenin

  theirconversations,asitdidintheliteratureandpoliticsofthetime,whenitwas

  always written with a capital letter), Life stood before them as an object, as a

  fieldofactionfortheirliberatedsenses,fortheirintellectualcuriosityandtheir

  sentimental exploits, which knew no limits. All roads were open to them,

  onward to infinity; on most of those roads they would never even set foot, but

  nonethelesstheintoxicatinglustforlifelayinthefactthattheycould(intheory

  at least) be free to choose which they would and dare to cross from one to the

  other.Allthatothermen,otherraces,inothertimesandlands,hadachievedand

  attained in the course of generations, through centuries of effort, at the cost of lives, of renunciations and of sacrifices greater and dearer than life, now lay

  before them as a chance inheritance and a dangerous gift of fate. It seemed

  fantastic and improbable but was none the less true; they could do with their

  youth what they liked, and give their judgments freely and without restriction;

  they dared to say what they liked and for many of them those words were the

  sameasdeeds,satisfyingtheiratavisticneedforheroismandglory,violenceand

  destruction, yet they did not entail any obligation to act nor any visible

  responsibilityforwhathadbeensaid.Themostgiftedamongstthemdespisedall

  thattheyshouldhavelearntandunderestimatedallthattheywereabletodo,but

  they boasted of what they did not know and waxed enthusiastic at what was

  beyondtheirpowerstoachieve.Itishardtoimagineamoredangerousmanner

  of entering into life or a surer way towards exceptional deeds or total disaster.

  Onlythebestandstrongestamongstthemthrewthemselvesintoactionwiththe

  fanaticismoffakirsandwerethereburntuplikeflies,tobeimmediatelyhailed

  by their fellows as martyrs and saints (for there is no generation without its

  saints)andplacedonpedestalsasinaccessibleexamples.

  Everyhumangeneration hasitsown illusionswithregard tocivilization;some believethattheyaretakingpartinitsupsurge,othersthattheyarewitnessesof

  its extinction. In fact, it always both flames up and smoulders and is

  extinguished, according to the place and the angle of view. This generation

  which was now discussing philosophy, social and political questions on

  the kapia underthestars,abovethewaters,wasricheronlyinillusions;inevery

  otherwayitwassimilartoanyother.Ithadthefeelingbothoflightingthefirst

  firesofonenewcivilizationandextinguishingthelastflickersofanotherwhich

  wasburningout.Whatcouldespeciallybesaidofthemwasthattherehadnot

  beenforalongtimepastagenerationwhichwithgreaterboldnesshaddreamed

  and spoken about life, enjoyment and freedom and which had received less of

  life,sufferedworse,la
bouredmorehardlyanddiedmoreoftenthanhadthisone.

  Butinthosesummerdaysof1913allwasstillundetermined,unsure.Everything

  appeared as an exciting new game on that ancient bridge, which shone in the

  moonlightofthoseJulynights,clean,youngandunalterable,strongandlovely

  initsperfection,strongerthanallthattimemightbringandmenimagineordo.

  XIX

  JustasonewarmsummernightinAugustislikeanother,sothediscussionsof

  these schoolboys and students on the kapia were always the same or similar.

  Immediately after a good supper hurriedly eaten (for the day had passed in

  bathingandbaskinginthesun)theyarrivedonebyoneonthe kapia. Therewas

  Janko Stiković, son of a tailor from Mejdan, who had already been studying

  natural science at Graz for two years. He was a thin young man with sharp

  featuresandsmoothblackhair,vain,sensitive,dissatisfiedwithhimselfbuteven

  more with everyone about him. He read much and wrote articles under a pen-

  namewhichwasalreadywellknowninrevolutionaryyouthpaperspublishedin

  PragueandZagreb.Healsowrotepoemsandpublishedthemunderanotherpen-

  name.Hewaspreparingabookofthemwhichwastobepublishedby Zora, the

  NationalistEdition.Hewasalsoagoodspeakerandafierydebateratstudents'

  meetings. Velimir Stevanović was a healthy, well-built youth, an adopted child

  ofuncertainparentage;hewasironic,downtoearth,thriftyandindustrious;he

  hadcompletedhismedicalstudiesatPrague.TherewasJacovHerak,sonofthe

  good-natured and popular Višegrad postman, a small, dark law student, of

  piercingeyesandswiftwords,asocialistofpolemicalspirit,whowasashamed

  ofhiskindheartandconcealedeverytraceofemotion.RankoMihailovićwasa

  taciturn and good-natured youth was was studying law at Zagreb and was

  already thinking of a career as a civil seryant. He took little part and that half-heartedlyinhiscomrades'argumentsanddiscussionsonlove,politics,viewson

  lifeandsocialconditions.Onhismother'ssidehewasthegreatgrandsonofthat

  PopMihailowhosehead,withacigarstuckbetweenitslips,hadbeenputona