Święto ognia

Feast of Fire is Jakub Małecki’s eleventh novel, which must make Małecki, born in 1982, one of the most prolific fiction writers of his generation. Over the years, Małecki has moved little-by-little from fantastical stories toward magic realism and social-psychological novels, developing a cherished and recognisable style. This perhaps reached its apogee in Shudder (2015), a somewhat grotesque, horror-laced historical saga set in the Polish countryside. Yet Feast of Fire is a more understated narrative compared to Małecki’s previous novels, both on the level of form and plot. Małecki, who has tapped into different varieties of genre fiction, turns here to well-structured popular fiction. This accounts for an occasionally sentimental poetics, familiar from TV, that gravitates toward a final, somewhat fairy-tale happy ending. The story of the Łabendowicz family is essentially three interwoven narratives intended above all to be moving, entertaining and sometimes gently affecting. The story, of a father caring for his twentyone- year-old daughter Anastazja, who has cerebral palsy, and the trials and tribulations of his second daughter, thirty-year-old ballet dancer Łucja, truly reads like a movie script. In particular, the sections narrated by Anastazja are richly, authentically delightful. This young woman, imprisoned in her disabled body, observes and at the same time creates the world beyond her window. Yet Małecki’s aim is not to write yet another story about suffering. This book contains many humorous counterpoints, ironies, and oftentimes lyrical reflections on visual detail. Anastazja’s world is poetically moving, because it makes us practice sensitivity and imagination. When she lovingly gazes at photos of puddles from different corners of the globe, the better to later go “jumping” through the puddles outside her window, this very warmth of detail seems able to rescue even the most challenging story.