Passion and violence are bubbling beneath the seemingly calm surface of everyday life
The year is 1937. Counterintelligence officer Maurycy Jakubowski is leading an investigation into a series of mysterious murders somewhere in the marshes of Polesie. Today a part of Belarus, before the war it ran along the Polish-Soviet border. These are the Borderlands of the Second Polish Republic. The Wild East, forgotten by God and people. It is here, in mysterious circumstances, that the main character’s friend, Adam Staff – also a counterintelligence officer – disappears. This is a sensitive case with political undertones, because Polesie is ruled by an unusual man. Wacław Kostek-Biernacki is treated by the locals like a tsar. They believe that he has taken care of them and will protect them from harm. The view in Warsaw is very different – there, he is seen primarily as the force behind the detention camp in Bereza Kartuska, where the pre-war authorities unlawfully imprisoned opposition politicians. As if that weren’t enough, Kostek-Biernacki is suspected of Satanism due to his literary activity.
Polesie in Rzewuski’s vision is a land full of magic and beauty, but also danger. Pagan beliefs are still alive here, the landowners hold all the power, and the peasants live as if they were in serfdom. All of this evokes associations with the literary image of the American South in the novels of William Faulkner. Dawidgródek, where the action takes place, becomes the Twin Peaks of the Borderlands. Passion and violence are bubbling beneath the seemingly calm surface of everyday life. Son of the Marsh has more to offer than an efficiently constructed criminal plot. Perhaps more important is the fact that Paweł Rzewuski, just like Marek Krajewski in his stories from Breslau, knows how to build an atmosphere. This novel is a discovery, both in terms of an author with great potential, and the forgotten region of Polesie, which has yet to amass its own literature.
Mariusz Cieślik, translated by Kate Webster