Zagreb Book Fair - November 2022

A Foreigner's Experience at Zagreb's Annual Book Fair

Interliber - Zagreb's Book Fair

This is the second year that I have attended Zagreb's annual book fair, Interliber, and I've got to tell you that the picture above has nothing to do with it. It's a free image from Wix's collection.

Interliber, the largest literary event and international bookfair in Croatia, is hosted every November in Zagrebački Velesajam, a spot in the south of Zagreb where a lot of the city's fairs are hosted. (You've got to get on tram No. 6 to get there from the main square.)

My Experience (An English Reader)

I went there on Friday morning, the 11th of November. The place was packed with kids on school field trips. The majority there were sneaking beers, smoking cigarettes, and sitting in coffee stalls sipping caffeine, impatiently, like they couldn't wait to become adults. Of course, there were a few who loved books; you could tell from the excitement on their faces. And to be honest, there were probably more readers among those school kids than among the present-day boomers or millennials.

Most of the books being sold there were in Croatian; though the fair claims to be international, a lover of literature who reads only English would be left disappointed there. For you English readers, you're not going to find anything you wouldn't in a general bookstore, and the prices are not much different either.

What I love about the books I've collected to date is that most of them are gems that I came across by chance, in random second-hand stores and charity shops. And that's probably why this book fair experience to me was not all that exciting: I go to a place that exclusively sells books and found no gems there. (I did buy myself Burroughs' Junky, but I wouldn't call it a gem). But, if I had searched harder I'd have probably found one, you always find them gems when you look hard enough, buried under all the dust and filth.

However, I did not go there to find books, I wanted to find myself a Literary Agent. I was probably there at the wrong time and I didn't get to meet any. Everyone I had spoken to was a fresh graduate who had joined a sales and marketing team. To be fair, you probably would be able to find someone for there are also heaps of literary events, discussions, and book releases that take place at the fair, but none are even remotely international.

Again, there may have been great collections and discounts for books written in and translated into Croatian. It's understandable that there were not too many books in English, but what really disappointed me was that the fair was more about selling books, than about the books themselves.

But at the end of the day, it is worth the trip for they have great food.

To Find A Soul In Bundek

As soon as the cooperate world sticks its head into something, it manages to drain the soul out of things, no matter how sacred. I needed to find some soul after walking about and squeezing through the crowds that were mostly buying books to decorate their living rooms. So I left the premise and went towards the river Sava and walked its banks.

Zagreb's River Sava

The river led me to Bundek, a large park with a couple of lakes and half a dozen playgrounds. The first lake I went to was thickly vegetated and still. It was so still that the water was clear, and it was so clear that you could see the mucky lake bed beneath. The trees and skies mirrored its polished surface. I pulled out my phone and took pictures. I don't know why I do that, I end up deleting most of them.

Bundek's secondary lake

I walked out and my right boot felt a bit heavy, with a bunch of leaves sticking beneath. I tried scraping it off on a metal road but it was stuck pretty deep in my shoe threads. I dug a bit out with a stick and I smelled it. What would an animal have had to eat to create such an ungodly smell, I don't understand.

I walked to the other lake, the clear one with pebble shores, and I dug the shit of the grips using a stick and rinsed my shoe in the water. I did a pretty good job cleaning, there were only the slimy traces that I couldn't get off and the stench had disappeared (or I may have gotten used to the smell). So, I sat there for a while and thought about the soul I was searching for and the shit that I had found. I gazed at the ducks and swans for a bit, they looked pretty soulless too.

Bundek's main lake

An old man came on a bicycle, walked towards the lake, stripped down to his underwear, and got into the water. He swam for a bit and got out, dried himself, and sat on the pebbles. A sort of tranquility had ironed the wrinkles on his face; I could tell he felt good. The man must have been in his mid-70s, at least 40 years older than I was. He made me wonder if I would ever consider swimming in that frozen lake.

I got up after the old man left, wiped my cold hands on my pants, and stretched. The smell of shit came back to me. I inspected my shoes again and it wasn't from my soles this time. My black jeans had something green smeared below the pockets and my left hand too was covered in green: Duck shit!

I went to a tap and washed. I walked out of Bundek and got on to a tram. The tram ride felt like a cross-state train journey, it felt like hours. The ride felt long probably because the scrutinizing gaze of the other passengers was burning a hole through my head. It was probably cause I was smelling like shit. But then again, I'm used to such stares; my skin is brown.

Kahan J Sudev