This book was Dragan's answer to the war madness sweeping through
Yugoslavia in the 1990s. When the war started, in 1991,
the Belgrade media became full of propaganda, and words became
weapons aimed at increasing tensions and preparing population
for whatever Milosevic's regime needed to continue its
bloody adventure. State-controlled radio, television, dailies
and magazines, bombarded consumers with the language of
hate and fear.
“After awhile, I caught myself developing
distrust in all forms of communication, and I realized
that this was precisely the aim the regime had in mind:
once we stop believing in communication, we become perfect
soldiers,” says Todorovic.
To raise his voice against this, he decided
to make a strictly controlled book. He collected a handful
of poems he wrote in the years just before the war, printed
them in one piece, hand-bound the (small) volume, painted
the cover, and titled it all “A shadow and a dream”.
Then he told his friends about the
simple rules: everyone who wanted to read it had
to print their name and telephone number in the space reserved
for it at the back of the book, and each next reader had
to call at least one of the previous readers. He wanted
to encourage personal communication, at the same time putting
a strict control over his words.
Because it was time when words were dangerous.
Just like today. Just like always.
Excerpt from
the “...Dream”:
WHY DID YOU HESITATE, MY ENEMY?
Those rare moments when my parents laugh
remind
me that we could have been
a family
if only we met on time
Kafka, Orwell, Andreyev
or someone else of those
who could have surrounded us
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