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Na wysokiej połoninie #1
На високій полонині
Роман На високій полонині, написаний Станіславом Вінцензом у Швейцарії і виданий у Варшаві у 1936 р., став першою книжкою багатотомного полотна про Гуцульщину, де зібрано величезний етнографічний матеріал, показано побут, звичаї, духовну культуру гуцулів. Він сам писав, що його призначення «відкривати світові барви та історію Гуцульської Верховини». «На високій полонині» порівнюють з «Тінями забутих предків» Михайла Коцюбинського та творами Гната Хоткевича про опришків, називають «Калевалою гуцулів. Роман складається з трьох частин:
Книга перша. За голосом трембіти.
Книга друга. Лісові люди.
Книга третя. Історія свободи або кінець опришкам
Книга перша. За голосом трембіти.
Книга друга. Лісові люди.
Книга третя. Історія свободи або кінець опришкам
640 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1936
8 people are currently reading
126 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
November 12, 2019
This book … is a treasure. I’m kind of in love with it. The prose is some of the most beautiful I’ve
ever
read, in any book, fiction or otherwise. I can tell it’s written with such love and dedication; I feel completely transported to the Hutsul mountains where I’m sitting beside these amazing storytellers (and not going to lie, but I’m so surprised by all the lukewarm ratings here … I wish there were some actual reviews so I could know why!).
Content warnings:
Use of the Roma slur
some stereotyping of Jewish people (“they’ll do anything for business”; though otherwise, it’s VERY respectful towards them! This book was written by a Polish author in the 1930s, set in Ukraine and Romania. I was … worried, to say the least)
The Hutsuls are an ethnic highlander group who live in parts of Western Ukraine and Romania. They’re farmers and mountaineers with a very colorful culture and especially a love for music and storytelling. And for horses, of course. Their beautiful Hutsul ponies are like extensions of themselves - and an actual breed, too (related to the now-extinct Tarpans). I’m a Góral (not living in Poland, but), and though I have no experience with Hutsul ponies, the Hutsuls’ love for their mountains and their farms is something I feel on a deep level. It’s also something I really felt clearly from this collection.
This book is just a small (ha, small → this thing is surprisingly HUGE once you open it up and get into the small text and thin pages) selection of stories from the original three-novel collection boasting over 2,000 pages. Which was way too much for me originally, but now I’d like to get into it - if I can find it, that is. In this book there are about nine main stories, each with several chapters, that tell a lot about the Hutsul life and culture (with one of these stories devoted the Hasidic Jewish people and their beliefs).
Though it ventures often into purplish prose, I fell in love with the way this book describes the mountains, the pastures, the trees, and everything to do with nature. In one story, the reader is simply drifting along with the wind over mountain peaks, uplands, and cottages to visit all the people who live in this area. It’s a great overview, and it makes you feel as though you’re traveling there and experiencing all these places in person. Flowery prose or not, it makes you feel something.
The stories here contain the myth of the trembita, the long trumpet of the Hutsuls, how it’s used, and a little bit about some famous robbers. Chapter two (the most interesting to me!) is about sorcerer-shepherds and magicians, exorcists and witches. These can all be the same people as well (except witches - women - can’t be head shepherds and thus sorcerer-shepherds). These magicians can even fight the Thunder Emperor and turn back storms! I think I loved this part most because it reminds me of my people a little bit.
Continuing, chapter three talks about Dobosz, the Jánošík of the Hutsuls (aka a famous robber and sort of a Robin Hood-like figure). Chapter four covers more famous robbers and how some of them met with the Emperor to ask for protection.
Chapter five introduces us to Tanasenko the farmer, who is worried about the felling of the trees and what it means for the forest. Chapter six is when we really get to know Tanasenko, who has a very loud mouth - and who expresses his opinions freely. About a lot of things, and when the night falls: politics, much to everyone’s displeasure. It’s probably my least favorite section of the entire book. It feels vastly different, and Tanasenko, true to his nature, does talk on and on … and on.
Chapter seven, “Letters from Heaven”, continues with Tanasenko, but then it ventures into stories about when he was healed by an exorcist from an illness that almost killed him. The description of this was enthralling and fascinating. He and his guests continue to tell stories as the night deepens.
“Garland of Periwinkles”, chapter eight, is when the Jewish people get to tell their tales. There’s a myth about Reb Last, a man who never had any desire to be the best or the first, etc. And then there’s a myth about Rarity, a Jewish tailor who was forced to come before the Christian Emperor - and who had a great adventure after that.
Chapter nine is … something else. I’ve never read anything like the myths in this chapter. It was like reading something at once so horrifying I didn’t want to read on and so interesting I had to! The story is about Kudil, one of the quietest robbers, who gets lost on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and becomes enslaved right next to the Gate of Hell by terrifying monsters called Syrojids. He must find a way to get himself - and all of the other enslaved humans intended to be feasted upon - out of there before he loses his humanity.
Finally, the last story involves the Rachmans, who are monk-like humans in another presented as the “ideal” people. Everyone should aspire to be like them. Five weeks after normal Easter, people send them their decorated eggshells by river in hopes to get a sign back from them; a blessing. If they put their ears to the ground, they will hear the Rachmans’ many bells ringing for them.
Whew. And that’s everything!
I’m sure there is a lot of biased information here, but it sounds like it’s all done out of an immense love for the Hutsul’s own people and country. It’s also an important piece of history, because like the beginning says: “The memory of past events is enduring, for stories are passed down in the living world. Other tribes have their old books, their sacred writings and Holy Bibles, their supremely wise Talmuds; but our mountain people have a living book as long as they have the old people, the story-tellers, who draw upon the sources of the past.”
Content warnings:
Use of the Roma slur
some stereotyping of Jewish people (“they’ll do anything for business”; though otherwise, it’s VERY respectful towards them! This book was written by a Polish author in the 1930s, set in Ukraine and Romania. I was … worried, to say the least)
The Hutsuls are an ethnic highlander group who live in parts of Western Ukraine and Romania. They’re farmers and mountaineers with a very colorful culture and especially a love for music and storytelling. And for horses, of course. Their beautiful Hutsul ponies are like extensions of themselves - and an actual breed, too (related to the now-extinct Tarpans). I’m a Góral (not living in Poland, but), and though I have no experience with Hutsul ponies, the Hutsuls’ love for their mountains and their farms is something I feel on a deep level. It’s also something I really felt clearly from this collection.
This book is just a small (ha, small → this thing is surprisingly HUGE once you open it up and get into the small text and thin pages) selection of stories from the original three-novel collection boasting over 2,000 pages. Which was way too much for me originally, but now I’d like to get into it - if I can find it, that is. In this book there are about nine main stories, each with several chapters, that tell a lot about the Hutsul life and culture (with one of these stories devoted the Hasidic Jewish people and their beliefs).
Though it ventures often into purplish prose, I fell in love with the way this book describes the mountains, the pastures, the trees, and everything to do with nature. In one story, the reader is simply drifting along with the wind over mountain peaks, uplands, and cottages to visit all the people who live in this area. It’s a great overview, and it makes you feel as though you’re traveling there and experiencing all these places in person. Flowery prose or not, it makes you feel something.
The stories here contain the myth of the trembita, the long trumpet of the Hutsuls, how it’s used, and a little bit about some famous robbers. Chapter two (the most interesting to me!) is about sorcerer-shepherds and magicians, exorcists and witches. These can all be the same people as well (except witches - women - can’t be head shepherds and thus sorcerer-shepherds). These magicians can even fight the Thunder Emperor and turn back storms! I think I loved this part most because it reminds me of my people a little bit.
Continuing, chapter three talks about Dobosz, the Jánošík of the Hutsuls (aka a famous robber and sort of a Robin Hood-like figure). Chapter four covers more famous robbers and how some of them met with the Emperor to ask for protection.
Chapter five introduces us to Tanasenko the farmer, who is worried about the felling of the trees and what it means for the forest. Chapter six is when we really get to know Tanasenko, who has a very loud mouth - and who expresses his opinions freely. About a lot of things, and when the night falls: politics, much to everyone’s displeasure. It’s probably my least favorite section of the entire book. It feels vastly different, and Tanasenko, true to his nature, does talk on and on … and on.
Chapter seven, “Letters from Heaven”, continues with Tanasenko, but then it ventures into stories about when he was healed by an exorcist from an illness that almost killed him. The description of this was enthralling and fascinating. He and his guests continue to tell stories as the night deepens.
“Garland of Periwinkles”, chapter eight, is when the Jewish people get to tell their tales. There’s a myth about Reb Last, a man who never had any desire to be the best or the first, etc. And then there’s a myth about Rarity, a Jewish tailor who was forced to come before the Christian Emperor - and who had a great adventure after that.
Chapter nine is … something else. I’ve never read anything like the myths in this chapter. It was like reading something at once so horrifying I didn’t want to read on and so interesting I had to! The story is about Kudil, one of the quietest robbers, who gets lost on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and becomes enslaved right next to the Gate of Hell by terrifying monsters called Syrojids. He must find a way to get himself - and all of the other enslaved humans intended to be feasted upon - out of there before he loses his humanity.
Finally, the last story involves the Rachmans, who are monk-like humans in another presented as the “ideal” people. Everyone should aspire to be like them. Five weeks after normal Easter, people send them their decorated eggshells by river in hopes to get a sign back from them; a blessing. If they put their ears to the ground, they will hear the Rachmans’ many bells ringing for them.
Whew. And that’s everything!
I’m sure there is a lot of biased information here, but it sounds like it’s all done out of an immense love for the Hutsul’s own people and country. It’s also an important piece of history, because like the beginning says: “The memory of past events is enduring, for stories are passed down in the living world. Other tribes have their old books, their sacred writings and Holy Bibles, their supremely wise Talmuds; but our mountain people have a living book as long as they have the old people, the story-tellers, who draw upon the sources of the past.”
June 3, 2025
I first encountered the prose of Stanisław Vincenz during my studies, and I was immediately captivated. Rich in meaning and symbolism, it never strayed beyond the reader’s intellectual reach. And yet, it demanded focus—much like listening to a symphony for the first time required attention in order to truly experience it. Sometimes, only the second or subsequent listening allowed for the full appreciation of its artistic depth.
The same was true for Vincenz’s prose: I read it for the second time, and only then did I come to fully appreciate his literary mastery and found myself enthralled by the world he depicted.
What made Na wysokiej połoninie truly magical was the way it resurrected a world that no longer exists—not only in geographic or historical terms, but in its spiritual and mythic dimension. Vincenz captured the vanishing reality of the Hutsul highlands with tenderness and precision, preserving its rhythms, voices, and rituals. Through his storytelling, the myths, legends, and ancient wisdom of the Hutsuls came alive again, shimmering with timeless beauty. It was a literary act of remembrance—as if Vincenz had conjured a forgotten world back into being, so it might continue to speak to us across the silence of history.
The same was true for Vincenz’s prose: I read it for the second time, and only then did I come to fully appreciate his literary mastery and found myself enthralled by the world he depicted.
What made Na wysokiej połoninie truly magical was the way it resurrected a world that no longer exists—not only in geographic or historical terms, but in its spiritual and mythic dimension. Vincenz captured the vanishing reality of the Hutsul highlands with tenderness and precision, preserving its rhythms, voices, and rituals. Through his storytelling, the myths, legends, and ancient wisdom of the Hutsuls came alive again, shimmering with timeless beauty. It was a literary act of remembrance—as if Vincenz had conjured a forgotten world back into being, so it might continue to speak to us across the silence of history.
August 17, 2024
Книга була вперше видана у 1936 році, це варто пам'ятати. Є місця, де текст ллється рікою, а є місця, де стає не дуже цікаво. Але вцілому хороша книга.
June 26, 2022
Takhle... ono to je velmi specifické dílo, které vyšlo v dost dávné minulosti. Je to tedy úzkoprofilová kniha. Není pro každého. Je dost umělecká a literárně náročná. Dost je tam místních výrazů a pochopit ji není zrovna snadné. Nicméně dělá obrázek a jistou představu o životě lidí v dané době a dané oblasti. I když tam je mapa, asi bych brala více věcí, které by mi to nějak příblížilo.
Jako dávám 4*, ale jen proto, že si jsem vědoma důležitosti a že vím, že jde o důležitou knihu... nicméně, doma bych ji nechtěla a znovu ji číst nemusím.
Jako dávám 4*, ale jen proto, že si jsem vědoma důležitosti a že vím, že jde o důležitou knihu... nicméně, doma bych ji nechtěla a znovu ji číst nemusím.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews