Over the past few years innumerable books have been written about contemporary Poland; yet even the best of them have been essentially journalistic works, written by sympathetic outsiders and doomed to be quickly overtaken by events. A Warsaw Diary is a very different kind of book: subtle, profound, a work of outstanding – and permanent – literary merit by one of Poland’s foremost writers. Denounced on Polish television after the imposition of martial law as a subversive document – possession of which carried an automatic prison sentence of up to ten years – it is at once a powerful, wide-ranging personal memoir, and the first eye-witness account of the momentous events of 1978-81 to set them in their historical and political context, subtly alternating between present-day Poland and her melancholy, overshadowed history and literary or philosophical reflections on the Polish character and temperament. Whether he is discussing the role of the Church, continuing anti-Semitism, the German occupation or the Stalinist years, or describing with a novelist’s eye the drab, interminable queues in a Warsaw street or thugs breaking up the dissident ‘Flying University’, Brandys’s Diary is a unique, compelling account of the Polish spirit and the Polish dilemma.
I originally found this diary at a bookstore in Detroit, MI. There was something so laconic about the title, “A Warsaw Diary: 1978-1981”, that I was drawn in by its very presence. As a predominately Polish 20 year old living in America, I’ve never truly been in touch with where my family came from. Sure, I’ve taken Eastern European courses at my university, yet those focused on the history or the broader cultural shifts, rather than the individual (yet collective) outlook of a time period in a country far often forgotten in Western culture.
I don’t think that I will have the same reaction to reading this as those from Poland might. Not only am I reading a translation, so meaning will already be inherently lost to some extent, but I also don’t have the cultural backbone to draw upon. I’m still learning Polish history and don’t pretend to have a significant grasp on it at all. Even with these deficiencies to my reading experience, I do know how it made me feel from my mindset. And I think it is beyond a worthwhile read.
Warsaw Diary is a lot of things, but what it isn’t is boring. Bradys’ writing style blends bluntness and eloquence together to create a truly remarkable reading experience that is plastered full with depth and meaning in each passage. So much so that I had to take annotations to not become lost.
Bradys holds a reverence for his country which is far from lost to the reader. He believes in the perseverance and willpower of Poland under an oppressive regime, even if he criticizes the immobility of them to act (though that opinion does seem to change as he analyzes it). He examines the Sovietization of societal expectation and norms, censorship from the media, the role of God in a seemingly unjust world, the nature of cultural divisions within Poland and its people, relationships and romance, hope and miracles, all of which draw into the cultural roots of Bradys’ heritage and the history that he has lived through. Pulling upon both World Wars and a history of revolution-oppression cycles, Bradys paints a grim and dark picture of Poland under Soviet Communist influence, while never failing to highlight the ability for Poland to continue and march forward.
I could continue to go on about this book as I truly think it is one of the best and most unique books I’ve read in awhile. I’m beyond surprised that there aren’t more reads of this on the app, even if Bradys is considered one of Poland’s best (contemporary) writers. If anyone sees this review, I would highly recommend you give this book a shot.