Kings and Spirits in The Eastern European Tales [Volume: 7(1988), pp. 183-206]

200
BARBARA TORUNCZYK
before our eyes. The national pride of what was thought to be a non-existent
minority is being reborn. Religion is experiencing a revival-the Catholic
church is thriving, but other faiths, too, are going back to their observances
and customs. Memories of political traditions long forgotten are returning.
New groupings, associations, publishing houses, various journals, schools,
and clubs are being formed. At the present moment, the political spectrum
in Polish independent circles is just as broad as it is in the West. Just 20
years ago, the map of political opinion signified only the garish stain of
official parties across a grey unvariegated background-the color of the
silent majority.
Bedazzlement at the richness of reality impels Zagajewski's verse.
The search for expression to convey the world's luxuriance is the fever
in this poetry, the methodical mastery of detail is its coolness and elegance;
ecstatic delight in life's elements gives the measure of its longing; submission
to the laws of hierarchy and form denotes its humility; the experience of
unity and harmony gives it the radiant color of hope; a touch of erosion
and decay forms its secret pole; a craftsman's conscientiousness lends it
calmness and poise. The power and greatness of Zagajewski's talent is an
amalgam of these elements. The current sensibility in Eastern Europe is
compounded of a similar alchemy.
7
Multiplicity, luxuriance, diversity and fullness are not only the hallmarks of the new reality taking shape before our eyes. These are also images
evoking the old Eastern marches of Europe. Their authors are people "from
over there," people who remember and were brought up in those lands
before the Second World War. Their stories also call to mind sacral paintings.
The nature of reality in them is similar, revealing itself in metaphysical
vision existing outside of time, history, ideology, and social dimensions.
Visions of this Europe are distinguished by the precise line and delicate
imagery of medieval masters. The aura of life is hieratic, time is mythical,
and the world is brimming, rich and ingenious. These images are beginning
to create a tradition with a new reality. This tradition is freely-chosen.
Writing about this part of the world, Kundera sees in it the incarnation
of Goethe's norms for a dreamed-for world literature, "this space where
different visions of the world meet, confront, and complete each other,
and where the originality of work and culture is spontaneously considered
as an asset and as a value." ["The Czech Wager"] This "space for tolerance
and diversity" was the ideal climate for the Goethean concept of "world
literature." It is also the climate required for "small nations" to live and
grow (take note, this is also the atmosphere of Havel's Europe of the future
cited by Garton Ash). Central Europe, as evoked by Kundera according