When a writer outlives his country

That every man is a potential killing machine isn’t an obvious truth to many. But it dawned early on Andrej Blatnik because of his rather unusual destiny: He was born in Yugoslavia in 1963 when the nation changed its official name to Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, and Josip Broz Tito was named president for life.

He grew up writing through the nation’s tumultuous years, took part in a war for independence — almost swapped his pen for a gun — and now lives in independent Slovenia, part of the European Union.

Blatnik started writing even before the history he witnessed gave him new perspectives. His first book, a collection of short stories: Šopki Za Adama Venijo (Bouquets For Adam Fade) was published when he was 20. “I took to writing primarily because that was one art where I could really be alone.”

He tried his hand at other creative arts and even played with a music band for some time before switching back to writing. “I am a very private person and writing was a kind of progression of that nature. I don’t cooperate much. For me, writing required the least amount of cooperation, so that was it,” he says.

‘Pacifism is not the answer to war’
When he started out, he had more time to focus on writing. But soon, the events unfolding around him claimed most of his time. “Yugoslavia was once a happy marriage of the diverse — different nations, different religions and different cultures — made to fit within one state. As often happens to marriages, the individuals screwed up. Other nations wanted to be independent of the then-strongest Serbia and the so-called idea of one Yugoslav nation. Thus the war started,” Blatnik recalls.

The Slovenian war was a short one. Nobody really even thought of it as a war because it only lasted for 10 days, says Blatnik. Before that, he was active in the pacifist movement in Slovenia. “During the first two or three days of the war, I believed it was a mistake and would stop. But then it didn’t. And I felt I had to fight back. It was like, if you have a child, you’ll do anything to protect your child.”

That, he says, was a huge change for him. “I realised I could turn into someone who forgot that the person on the other side was also human. Luckily, the war didn’t last long enough for me to grab a gun.” Others too had similar experiences, and the pacifist movement fell apart as they realised how close they were to becoming “killing machines.” He explains, “The best response to a war may not be a pacifist stand because then you are almost willing to become the victim.”

During the war, the trend was to write about the nation and politics — the idea was to liberate the nation first and then move on to other topics. But he wrote Skinswaps which was about relationships. It took him another 20 years to write about politics. “I am more interested in writing about the politics of daily things — how you treat animals, how you treat nature, how you treat your not-so-lucky cohabitants, how you separate your garbage, etc. These subjects appeal to me.”

‘Mixed identities help a writer’
For Blatnik, the question of identity is tricky. He believes the identity of a Yugo was made up. “That was one of the reasons for the disillusionment with Yugoslavia. Another was that Slovenia was the most economically powerful and technologically advanced nation in the region. We Slovenians, who were just about 8% of the population, contributed 25% of the national income. We had a democratically-elected government in power. We didn’t belong in Yugoslavia.”

Even so, he says, for some time the idea of Yugoslavia was a good one. Before the World Wars, all nations were colonies of the Austrian empire. During World War II, they had a mutual enemy: the Axis powers. But after the war ended, they had nothing left in common.

Everyone straddles multiple identities, he says. “Slovenians were more connected to a Yugoslavian identity than, say, a German or an Austrian one. I feel I am European, even though it has only been a few years since we officially joined the European Union.”
As for his literary tradition, he feels his writing belongs to Europe. “I believe in shifting identities: we are never only one thing.”

This mixed identity, he says, helps his writing. Blatnik’s books have been translated into 27 languages, including Kannada. Some of his books have “a concrete playground” — where and when it happened is clear. “For example, in one of my novels, the story is set in my hometown. But this is visible only to those who are familiar with what happened in a certain era,” he says.

Mostly, he likes writing stories that don’t stick to one cultural background and can be set in any place and time. “If I restrain my writing to a purely Slovenian cultural context, perhaps my neighbours would understand, but you in India might not.” His stories have no boundaries, he says. And several of them — especially the latest collection, You Do Understand — aren’t set in a particular time and place. “That is quite intentional,” he says. “If readers away from Slovenia connect with the story, that means it succeeded.”

This is Blatnik’s eighth trip to India. “Now I know how this country functions, so it is easier for me to come here than go to other places.”