29 March 2019

Cartea Soldatului – The Soldier’s Book


The Soldier’s Book (Cartea Soldatului) is a short 2018 documentary directed by Marius Donici and Doina Rusti.  It uses the find of a novel, the margins of which had been used as a notebook by a soldier during the First World War, to tell the story of the annotator, insofar as it can be pieced together from the clues provided by the notes.

The volume was found under a shed where it sat alongside other documents.  It is the Romanian translation of a romantic novel, Jean d'Agrève (1898), by the French writer Eugène-Melchior de Vogüé.  The notes had possibly been written by a Ştefan Anghelescu, but using the nom-de-plume Fănică.

The film is presented in a bitty manner, using a mix of talking heads, photographs and actors, interweaving Fănică’s story with Romania’s changing fortunes during the Great War.  It was a time of peril, but one that ultimately forged the nation. The evidence provided by Fănică’s jottings is supplemented by archival research to build a picture of a seminal moment in Romanian history.

There was a low literacy rate in Romania at the time so Fănică’s ability to read and write was fairly unusual in a working man.  An army reservist, he was a mechanic on the railway in peacetime so possessing skills highly sought after in the army, meaning he did not serve on the front line.  He was also a painter and a traveller, and there are hints he was gregarious.

The last is suggested by the many names, of men and women but mostly women, which feature in his notes, some of whom can be identified from historical records.  One in particular, Ana, probably Ana Simionescu, is prominent, and Fănică addresses her directly; but there are names of about 40 other women.  The precise nature of his relationship with them is unclear.

Romania was hard-pressed by the Central Powers, on both north and south borders, and after initial successes suffered reverses, not aided by the Russian retreat, which knocked it out of the war until (literally) the day before the Armistice.  Fănică was possibly taken prisoner at the Battle of Mărășești in September 1917 and held at Severin.

His final entry was made in early June 1918 and what happened to him afterwards is unclear.  However, one of the interviewees recounts discovering a landscape painting recently in a second-hand bookshop, dated 1920 and signed S. Anghelescu.  Perhaps it was the same Fănică, having survived the hostilities and returned to his old life.  One would like to think so.  Ana, with whom he seems to have fallen out, disappears from history, with no record of either marriage or death.

At only 35 minutes the film feels overly compressed, jumping from commentator to commentator, graphics flashing by, with scarcely a chance to absorb the information.  Despite having the course of Romania’s war sketched in by a series of academics, it helps to have some prior knowledge of this theatre of the conflict and Romania’s role within it.

However, the film does compile a personal story of sorts from the fragments, one that could so easily have been lost in the crumbling pages of a forgotten novel deteriorating under a shed.  In disinterring Fănică’s notes, the filmmakers have also performed a useful service in highlighting a part of the First World War that has tended to be overlooked.

The documentary is available from Cinepub on YouTube, with English-language subtitles.  Cinepub’s page on the film, with a link, is here:

7 March 2019

The Cold War: A New Oral History, by Bridget Kendall


Bridget Kendall’s 2017 oral history is clustered around particular flashpoints worldwide in the Cold War (perhaps we should start calling it the First Cold War), from the Greek Civil War in 1944 to the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991.  The BBC publication was designed to accompany a radio series, The Cold War: Stories from the Big Freeze.  Kendall has gathered interviews with many people who experienced its various facets, and has produced a bottom-up history supplemented by short, and thus not very detailed, contextualising essays.

There are references to Romania, though its few appearances in passing indicate that in terms of the conflict it was fairly marginal, probably no bad thing.  The first is in the introductory essay to the Greek Civil War chapter, which outlines the ‘Percentages Agreement’ reached between Churchill and Stalin in October 1944.  This was designed to split Eastern Europe into spheres of influence, as if this could be hammered out over a conference table.  Romania was to be 90% in the Soviet sphere and 10% in the British; not quite how it turned out.

The introduction to the chapter on the Communist coup in Czechoslovakia in 1948, described as an early example of what we now call hybrid warfare, refers to the ‘liberation’ (quotes in original) of Romania, Bulgaria and Hungary in 1943-4.  It demonstrated the pointlessness of haggling over percentages but the reality of the Soviet sphere of influence.  Russia wanted pro-Moscow buffer states, and the occupation by the Red Army facilitated the installation of subservient regimes in those countries.

The next reference is in the introduction to the chapter on the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, which talks about Soviet political and economic control over client states.  East Germany, Romania and Hungary were obliged to pay ‘draconian’ war reparations, and to finance Soviet troops stationed locally.

Jump forward to Czechoslovakia in 1968, and the introduction dealing with the crushing of the Prague Spring.  Nicolae Ceaușescu, who had sided with Alexander Dubček (surprising to us now, but Ceaușescu, only three years in power, was trying to keep his own distance from Moscow), to his credit refused to supply troops to assist in occupying Czechoslovakia.  Poland, Hungary and Bulgaria acquiesced.

We have to wait for the chapter on Chile in 1973 before Romania is mentioned by one of the eyewitnesses, actually the only occasion.  Osvaldo Puccio was imprisoned by the Pinochet regime, expelled, and went into exile in Romania in 1974 before moving to Germany.  He does not say anything about Romania, nor why he initially settled there, and he was back in Chile a decade after leaving.

In the introduction to the chapter on the Angolan Civil War (1975-2002), Romania is mentioned as one of the countries ‘pitching into the fracas to back their preferred sides.’  I had to look elsewhere to establish that Romania, among many others, supported the MPLA.

The introduction to the chapter devoted to ‘Gorbachev’s Perestroika’ (1985-91) refers to his communication to Communist leaders in the Eastern European states that they could no longer rely on the Soviet Union to keep them in power.  As those parties enjoyed little real public support, the governments were vulnerable to popular dissent.  Hence, with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, the movement to unseat Communist governments began, largely peacefully, though Ceaușescu’s overthrow was more violent.

3 March 2019

Romanian Literature Now


Romania Literature Now is not a demand by me (though it could be!) but the name of an English-language website devoted to, as its name suggests, recent developments in Romanian literature.  Edited by Cezar Gheorghe and Emanuela Ignățoiu-Sora, it is subtitled ‘Everything you need to know about Romanian literature’, which is a fine aspiration, and in time the site promises to become a key hub of information on the subject.  It is devoted to writers at all stages of their careers, and showcases a thriving literary scene in Romania.

As today is World Writers’ Day, a sadly under-celebrated event, Romanian Literature Now on Facebook is promoting the website’s pages devoted to Romanian authors; these provide biographical information and translated tasters of their output.  Some pages include videos of readings and interviews, though they are in Romanian.  Mircea Cărtărescu’s naturally is extensive, with a bibliography and external links.

The editors would like to have more excerpts from a range of writers translated into English and made freely available on the website.  To this end they have recently set up a Patreon page, collecting donations both to help promote Romanian writers generally and to finance translations.  As print editions of Romanian authors tend to be issued by small-scale publishers in short runs they are quite expensive and not easy to get hold of, so this is a welcome initiative and worthy of support.

Romanian Literature Now’s website can be found here:


The Patreon donation link: