Never has an adult written so convincingly in the voice of a child than Ismail Kadare in Chronicle in Stone. Set in a small crossroads town in southern Albania that closely resembles Kadare’s home town, Chronicle follows a dreamy juvenile boy who imagines the relationships between houses, between and among streets, between clouds and the sky. World War II air raids force the unnamed boy and his fellow townspeople out of their homes and into the citadel. Not even these visits to the dank, maze-like fortress can ground this boy’s flights of fancy. The whole novel is riveting, atmospheric, and utterly convincing.
The boy predictably idolizes the aircraft occupying the newly constructed airfield across the river, until a monstrous, silver behemoth arrives and asserts itself as alpha. He spends much of the novel in the company of his neighborhood’s old women, who are a funny combination of superstitious and worldly wise. In particular, his grandmother knows and understands much about the real world, and condemns a good portion of it. He watches the occupying armies come and go: Greek, then Italian, two and three times each, and they all anticipate the ultimate monstrous German forces.
He’s acquainted with two young terrorists in their twenties, partisans, as they’re called, who encourage and belittle him by turns. Their leader, another young man from the same town, called Enver Hoxha, has left to study abroad. His specific inclusion in the book has been seen as a sop to Albanian authorities to allow publication, but shadowy veiled references that hint at his rumored unorthodox sexual orientation have been cited as well.
Chronicle in Stone was first published in Albania in 1971. Its English translation wasn’t released until 1987. It balances the daydreams of a young boy with the horrific events of political and wartime violence. This balance makes it possible to view the bloody events of the novel from something of a distance; this lens also perfectly catches the modern anarchic political machinations while acknowledging Albania’s remoteness and inward—and backward—focus. It’s an intriguing construct, very rewarding, very balanced, and very strong. And the point of view gives the novel an enchanted quality. For these reasons, it won the International Booker Prize in 2005.
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