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Srbija 2020

Bear-Stapling in Belgrade

Having taken my son to the zoo recently, it occurs to me that I might spend a few choice words and criticism of the appalling conditions (my opinion) suffered by the animals interned in the Belgrade zoo. I might, since it is my chosen form and inexorable proclivity, choose to use irony to express my feelings. Instead of saying

a) The Belgrade zoo has animal enclosures which are not big enough,

I might rather say:

b) In the case of the polar bear, for example, the Belgrade zookeepers might save further space by merely encasing the great bear in cling-film and affixing him to the wall with large staples. 

In the first instance, the statement is TRUE but BANAL. In the second case, you as readers are allowed to feel the pain of the polar bear, already living in cramped conditions. But which is actually a more effective way to make the point?

It seems to be the case that True and Banal works better. This is because the concept of irony, when applied by a foreigner in Serbia (my status), is too often interpreted quite literally. If I published sentence B about the cling-film, then I would be hunted down for everything from cruelty to animals, incitement to revolution within the zoological community, wholesale denigration of the Serbian state, to wrongful employment of Large Staples.  

Strange as it might seem, however, I do not think for a moment that bear-stapling is to be advocated or encouraged in any way.

Irony is used as an indirect way to draw attention to existing conditions and maybe make people aware of them who either do not know or have not formed an opinion about them. The hope is that people will read solution B and say to themselves, “are the animals really so compactly confined?”  And what do I hope to achieve by eliciting that kind of thought? Only a return to statement A (“The Belgrade zoo has animal enclosures which are not big enough”), armed with a stronger emotional response.

Although I am sure I will come back to the subject of the zoo in another entry, I would like to concentrate on the use of irony. Irony, satire, parody, and sarcasm: these are the stock in trade of anyone writing from an Anglo-Saxon viewpoint. These are also linguistic-cultural barriers. We use these forms to write about very important issues, but without the high seriousness and self-absorption of the politician, the theologian, the university professor, or the animal rights activist. It does not mean, however, that the issues are any less important. It is used to alert people to reality by using farce and fantasy.

Jonathon Swift, in his well-known essay “A Modest Proposal,” says that the Irish should eat their babies in order to avoid the suffering of living in poverty. This is neither a serious call to cannibalism nor an Irish joke: this is Swift’s sharp-edged way of pointing out the severity of poverty in Ireland at the time when he was writing. If he had chosen to write: “The Irish are very poor and hungry,” who would have understood the depth of desperation facing that people?

Every culture has Panic Buttons that writers should only touch if they are willing to accept an avalanche of criticism by people who are easily offended and take themselves extremely seriously. In the US, they include everything from Washington’s war policy to school prayer to bilingual education. In Serbia, it seems that the list is longer, and any statement that is remotely perceived as less than complimentary to Serbia is construed to be a brutal attack on the nation and its people. And while we all know that the world is not short of wackos and crackpots who actually advocate extremism, we also know that the problems exist and will not magically disappear because we do not dare to talk about them.

Poverty is a scourge on a global scale; mistreatment of exotic animals in zoos (not only Belgrade by far) is an easily avoided tragedy. They are not equal, to be sure, but they are real. By telling you this, you should (and please do) tell me to propose solutions and not just complain. But the solutions that both Swift and I propose (and I beg you to forgive the circumstantial self-aggrandizement of lumping myself into the same league as Swift) may be SO extreme as to suggest a more reasonable approach.

Now, while you are thinking about that, I have a few more bears to staple.


Now that IS irony

That one should have to explain the meaning of irony to the Serbs- now that IS irony. We had it man. In abundance. For export. All ex-Yugoslavs I mean. OK, well maybe not the Slovenians and half the Croats – sorry mum, sorry wife, but the irony was our middle name. Not necessarily the Anglo-Saxon brand but still pretty there.

After we realised our brand of communism is nothing but a paper tiger, the irony was what kept us through the economic turbulence of failed economy the tiger produced. The red bulb scene in ‘Balkanski spijun’ is all you have to see to appreciate it. And examples are in abundance.

But the war (first, second, third, fourth…), the sanctions, the games of ‘democracy’, one crisis of everything after another of even more, brainwashing day-in day-out (from whichever side you turn to) did its doing. People have lost their irony gene and overdeveloped their survival instinct. The knee-jerk reaction to anything unfamiliar, to all potentially unsafe. It is a tragedy really.

And there is the fear of strangers. Some of it for good reasons, most of it because of ignorance. Even the ‘new’ or ‘the second Serbia’, as they like to call themselves, although apparently pro-Western and non-xenophobic, are bitter and angry that the West didn’t support them enough (and delivered them into power) but it ‘supports’ their sworn enemies Kostunica and Tadic.

And there is also the typical Balkan illness: the jealousy! You are a rich foreigner who came to MY country to tell ME what to do (well yes, sorry, I’m your manager). And you drive a new Punto, big show-off, when I can only afford a second hand Audi (from my cousin, few bullet holes, but great price mind you). One Serbia thinks foreigners are here to rob them of their resources and jobs (yeah, right), the other mistrusts them because why would somebody, anybody, want to live in Serbia when they would leave tomorrow if only someone would want them, the third Serbia is simply confused and no one is providing the answers.

I can only suggest that you, and other foreigners who decided to leave their F-111’s safely parked in Texas, should stay, persist and persevere. Serbia needs people like you. There is price, but I think it is worth paying.

What, you have only one wife? If you like to meet my sister she very good, number three prostitute in Surdulica. (Sorry, Borat ahm Boro is here.)

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humbert.mojblog.co.yu