Vyhľadávanie
Reading Vilikovský’s last book is like flipping through an old photo album, out of which emerge yellowed photographs of parents, a grandmother, friends, and last but not least, of Prague streets. Despite the fact that the title evokes an image of a writer evaluating what he had lived through, that is only partly true. The work is more of a mosaic of characters and sketches of their seemingly ordinary stories, connected by the perspective of a brilliant observer, and the belief that nostalgia can be unsentimental and memory can be painless.
