Red Water by Jurica Pavičić – blog tour

Translated from Croatian by Matt Robinson

Earlier this month I read my first novel by a Bulgarian author, now I can add Croatia too to my European lit list with this multi European prize-winning novel. Pavičić’s bio says he is ‘known for hjs unorthodox thrillers and crime novels which mix social analysis with deep insights into morally complex situations and human destinies.’, and that’s certainly the case here.

The novel is divided into four distinct parts spanning 1989 to 2017, told chronologically. Within the parts, each chapter is told by one narrator, some more than once. The first part tells the story of Silva’s disappearance…

It’s late September 1989, and Geography teacher Vesna is remembering when she and Jakov, a bookkeeper, first moved into their aunt’s house in Misto after their wedding in 1971. She’d got pregnant almost straight away – twins – Mate and Silva – more unalike than alike. They’re nearly eighteen now, Mate studying shipbuilding, and Silva Economics and admin. Mate plans to carry on to university, but Silva’s future is more elusive.

In September 1989, Vesna is happy.

But little will she know, that after dinner when Silva announces she’s going to the fair it would be the last time her parents see her.

The next morning, Mate takes up the narrative, waking with a hangover, and not getting up. Then just before 10am, he hears his mother speak having checked Silva’s room – saying she’s not there. They all assumed she’d slept over with a friend, and didn’t worry at first – Mate had gone to the fair too, and seen her dancing to the DJ at about eleven. He didn’t mention that she was dancing with Adrijan, not her usual boyfriend, Brane. He goes to check she’s not with Brane, then on to Adrijan’s home, the bakery. She left Adrijan’s in the early morning saying she had to go somewhere. Checking her bedroom hiding places, he discovers she’s taken all her money and her passport. Time to call in the police – Inspector Šain attends, but assures them she’s likely to return, most of them do.

By November, she’s still missing. Adrijan had been arrested and then released; Jakov has sat in the bus station in Split every day in case someone passed through who’d seen her. Inspector Šain visits the family to tell them the police are still looking, but all initial avenues are exhausted. They know she’d been dealing, but that led to dead ends too. Vesna challenges him as he is leaving though.

… “And what do you think?” she said. “What do you think about it?”
“About what?” replied Šain.
“You know what. What do you think? Was it him? Is she alive? Or did he kill her?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know you don’t know. But what do you think? What does you – what is it – intuition tell you?”
Mate remembers that moment. The inspector stood in the doorway, hesitating, as if weighing up his words. “I don’t know,” he said. “Intuition doesn’t tell me anything,”
“I think you know,” replied Vesna. “You have but you can’t say.”
“I don’t. Really I don’t.”
“You know. I know you know.” And Vesna closed the door, without a word of goodbye.

It’s heartbreaking to see the effects of Silva’s disappearance on her family. They find it hard to believe she wasn’t perfect, although Mate knew a bit more than he let on. From hereonin as we begin Part Two, taking us from 1991 to 2015, paths diverge, and several new narrators take up the story of the ongoing consequences. Adrijan joins up to avoid the stigma that attached to him with the accusations before. Vesna and Jakov aren’t talking at all. Mate continues thesearch and meets Elda, a woman who worked at the bus station who thought she’d sold Silva a ticket. The years go by and still Mate searches whenever he can find an excuse or combine searcing with a business trip.I’m not going to expound at large on what happens in parts three and four.

What particularly struck me about this novel was, that although in one sense it is a crime thriller, it’s more about the consequences stemming from it to everyone involved, and not just Silva’s family, but everyone who was looked at in the investigations and their families too. Pavičić is unflinching in detailing how wide the effects are beyond her family. In the later parts, a disillusioned Šain has left the police, taking up a different career as a salesman of sorts, his guilt at never finding Silva still resonates, and again Pavičić’s narrative is very to the point. All this happens against a background of Yugoslavia’s political upheaval and war. As his bio suggested, there are distinct themes of social unrest and ambiguous moralities in Pavičić’s psychological insight of his characters, all woven into the crime and situational background. All this is helped by a very good translation by Matt Robinson who captures the characters’ motivations and emotions brilliantly and some sparky dialogue as above.

I do hope that more of Pavičić’s novels get translated. Red Water is highly recommended for those who enjoy this kind of crime novel in which the crime is not always the main focus.

Source: Review copy – thank you. Bitter Lemon Press paperback original, 317 pages. BUY at Blackwell’s via my affiliate link (free UK P&P)