Pavel Kohout,Karel Havlicek
KIRKUS REVIEW,Lizinka Tachezy, young and blonde and unable to fit into any secondary school program or training institute in the imaginary East European land here, is finally enrolled in a program for executioner-trainees. Tachezy pÃƒÂ¨re, a philologist, is aghast; Lizinka's mother, on the other hand, sees this as a chance for real advancement. Lizinka herself? Well, she's blissfully immune from start to finish, in addition to being the innocent erotic focus for the hangmen's Institute's two co-directors, Simsa and Wolf: both of them have a go at her nubile body and blank countenance. . . and both sort of succeed. This is a marvelously edgy scenario--and Czech novelist-playwright Kohout's suavest textures are reserved for contrasting the satire (the State's inhumane notions of education) with the fizzy, doors-bursting-open vitalities of sex comedy. Furthermore, Simsa's and Wolf's backgrounds as secret-police cadre and Nazi collaborator respectively make them into especially delicious tables-turned victims of their ingenuous student. And there are set pieces aplenty, like the class play (in verse) at graduation for the fledgling executioners: ""Before the engine run by steam/ Appeared the first beheading machine. Yet decapitation, as we shall see,/ Remained an art: voilÃƒ , scene three!"" Admittedly, there's also a good deal of belaboring: Kohout trots out every fact and source from his research on the history of torture and capital punishment--under the guise of the Institute's academic program. Yet the novel rarely subsides into the milkiness which allegory is prone to; instead it seems to become ever more specific. Flighty perhaps, but also close and relentless, this is the comedy of truly fierce farce --less intellectually ironic and beguiling but ultimately more powerful than the work of Kohout's much-praised compatriot, Milan Kundera
Fiction,European Literature,Czech Literature,Humor
KatynÄ›