Iga Nowicz’s monograph Interrupted Stories is an ambitious attempt to examine the literary and cultural practices of post-Yugoslav authors writing in German. The book addresses both works of fiction by migrant authors and nonfiction essays, thereby expanding beyond the scope of strictly literary analysis. The structure of the book comprises an introduction and four chapters, and significant parts of the text focus primarily on sociopolitical questions and German-language responses to the Yugoslav wars, rather than on literary analysis. This raises questions about genre consistency and the thematic focus of the study. One recurrent tension in the book arises from the author’s critique of ethnic generalizations, such as portraying “all Serbs” or “all Croats” as homogeneous groups, while at the same time relying on broad, undefined categories like “the West,” “Western approach,” or “Western observer.” This lack of specificity at times weakens the rhetorical clarity and persuasiveness of her argumentation.
In the introduction, Nowicz discusses multilingualism, migration, and the key notion of “post-Yugoslav” literature, though she leaves the latter term undefined. She applies a broad methodology, incorporating postcolonial, feminist, and queer theories alongside theories of multilingualism. The introduction reads more like a sociopolitical critique of the status quo of migrants in Germany than providing the study’s methodological framework.
Chapter 1 is a political and historical overview of German reactions to the Yugoslav conflicts. In the second half of the chapter, Nowicz unexpectedly turns to the essayistic writings of Peter Handke, an Austrian author unrelated to the German context and the migrant literature that forms the book’s core focus. Her treatment of Handke centers on his political views rather than on literary merits, making his inclusion in this chapter thematically and methodologically questionable.
Chapter 2 is devoted to Saša Stanišić’s novel Wie der Soldat das Grammofon repariert, with an emphasis on the deconstruction of ethnicity. The chapter includes a comparative reading of published and earlier versions of the novel, as well as insightful analysis of its layered structure and auditory motifs, an often-overlooked element in war literature. Yet again, however, the author’s approach tends to shift from literary analysis toward ethical and political critique, particularly of Handke, whose presence here also seems excessive and polemical.
Chapter 3 focuses on Marica Bodrožić’s novel Kirschholz und alte Gefühle and examines it through the lens of feminist solidarity. The two central characters—a refugee from Bosnia and a refugee from Croatia—are described in detail. The chapter includes an overview of literary and cinematic representations of sexual violence during the Bosnian War. Nowicz notes that while many memorials commemorate victims of war, such as the Holocaust or the Yugoslav conflicts, victims of sexual violence are rarely, if ever, specifically remembered. Yet this critical observation targets real-world omissions rather than the novel itself, which primarily deals with the protagonist’s abusive relationship in Paris. In the chapter’s conclusion, several pages are devoted to the topic of multilingualism, yet Nowicz focuses mainly on its emancipatory potential for a multilingual speaker. This analysis feels slightly vague and underdeveloped. It would have been appropriate to note that Marica Bodrožić is a signatory of the 2017 Declaration on the Common Language, which is important in the context of discussions on interrelations between post-Yugoslav languages. This also could contextualize the fact that the two protagonists speak the same language both literally and figuratively, despite their different ethnicities and modern nationalist distinctions. It also would have been important to acknowledge that the novel is part of a trilogy and should be considered in relation to the other two volumes.
Chapter 4 analyzes the works of Austrian writer Alma Hadžibeganović. Unlike the previous chapters, this one does not focus on a single novel but discusses multiple texts across different formats and styles. It includes substantial sociological content, such as the political debates surrounding migration in Austria and demographic statistics on migrants in Vienna. On a literary level, the author perceptively identifies the use of shifting focalization—between zero, internal, and external perspectives—and shows how the text deconstructs stereotypes associated with labels like “refugee,” “migrant,” or “woman,” emphasizing instead the hybridity and uniqueness of each individual.
On the whole, Interrupted Stories is an eclectic and at times quotation-overloaded work, in which valuable observations about post-Yugoslav authors and the German literary landscape alternate with a more polemical and sociological modes of discourse. Nevertheless, the book may appeal to readers interested in migration studies, identity politics, and transnational literature, provided they are prepared to navigate the political commentary in order to access the underlying literary analysis.
