Michelle Face
burn out
ed.. Pataki, page 279

The author takes us to Paris, and also to Zagreb, Amsterdam, Arizona, San Francisco, nowhere.

Burn out. And anxiety. Misunderstanding. And resignation. Loneliness. And loneliness. Seventy-two stories, fragmentary and momentary, recording the dialogue of people who do not speak, do not coincide in time, each says and means something that the other does not understand, left in limbo, suspended in what cannot be communication , relationships, not even effort. consultation. Agreeing, disagreeing, simply understanding and creating daily understanding seems absolutely impossible.

Dream documentary. This is a subtitle that serves well. The author with the camera of his letter gives us the whole picture of the shooting. Place, time, descriptions of people and environment. It takes us to Paris, and also to Zagreb, Amsterdam, Arizona, San Francisco, nowhere. Autumn and summer, noon and twilight, these are rooms with worn walls and old furniture, this is a bench, a man at a desk, in front of his computer. People in decline and decline, couples who cannot look at each other, where even a look, a familiar look, ceases to be the same and is misinterpreted, becomes rigid or apathetic, accompanies harsh words. Our eternal questions, sometimes anxieties, are hidden in small, urgent, in their own way dramatic pictures. The uniqueness of the relationship, the time that passes and changes everything, the meaning of the continuation of existence and on what conditions death, especially when you are going to die instead of someone else. But also the key faith, or rather the shaken faith of the one who wears purple robes: “A Catholic priest comes out of St. Peter’s Basilica. Burning face. He can’t breathe. He unbuttons the purple robe over his chest. He trembles with fear. He gets on his knees. He is delirious. Talk! I can’t take this situation anymore. This silence and your absence no longer interests anyone. Everyone is tired. From theologian and immigrant to believer and cancer patient. Your apathy now suits only bastards. From the zero of the past to the zero of the future. Talk! Will you ever take responsibility for anything? Your boredom and indifference are guilty of all the mass crimes of the world. Talk! You are the most cruel master of human suffering. Credere quia absurdum (Believe because it is absurd). You are not bored; Credere quia absurdum. Credere quia absurdum. Talk! Open your virgin lips, knock your virgin teeth. Talk! Say a word. Something. Scream your name. Anything.”

Completely modern challenges appear page after page. The dialogue of young people with each other with the help of the only, exclusive and sometimes destructive means of technology, but also the dialogue of older people with young people that has no common ground. How much does a red-haired 50-year-old creative writing teacher have to handle Greek when he sees him talking to his student? Both sixteen-year-olds, speaking in minimal vulgar language of the time, how much violence do they hide inside, in their silent tragic loneliness? Relationships of people, the precious and varied relationships of people seem to be the main theme of this letter. What exists, what is open, what is hidden and other things that are implied, dispelled suspicions and the search for truth. Friendly relations, others developed at work, in cooperation, at the backgammon board. And relationships of couples, deeply rooted in time, unrecognizably finished or relationships ephemeral on the periphery of marriage, on the periphery of life.

Documentaries about dreams may very well be made with nightmares. But so alive, so familiar, at the same time alien and repulsive. This writing of the book deviates entirely from the conventional form of storytelling, requiring the reader to become a dedicated spectator. Bring images to life, target tone of voice, emotional outbursts, muffled dialogue, complaints, whining, closeness and distance of characters. Accept that the projected fantasy world can be harsh and inaccessible, but at the same time activate the existing and dormant soul strings that are ready to break. And to feel sympathy, understanding and closeness, to smile.