I like my country, but not being born in Lithuania would have meant not reading Jurga Ivanauskaitė back at school and you all should consider yourselves lucky.
I mean, we were 17-18 years old, but it was still something I wouldn’t choose to read.
The story I remember reading was about a mother of two young kids, during the events of January 13th.
The Soviet tanks roll by her street, towards the TV tower, she later finds out that her husband left home to defend it. It is not clear if he will come back. Historical context: only 14 people died that night, but the casualties were expected to be higher, because people went against the army with their bare hands.
The other event is how she goes to a doctor, because she is still lactating despite her youngest child being past nursing age. She goes there twice, the second time the doctor sleeps with her. She seems ambivalent about it.
The last part I remember is her walking on a frozen pond with her children. The older child finds a spot where the ice is transparent, and says:
I like my country, but not being born in Lithuania would have meant not reading Jurga Ivanauskaitė back at school and you all should consider yourselves lucky.
Is that a story or an author?
It’s the sound the machine made when it ate people.
She was a writer, an essayist, a poet and a traveler.
A lot of her creations feature powerlessness of women in various dramatic events.
Holy fuck, what a thing to let kids process on their own…
I mean, we were 17-18 years old, but it was still something I wouldn’t choose to read.
The story I remember reading was about a mother of two young kids, during the events of January 13th.
The Soviet tanks roll by her street, towards the TV tower, she later finds out that her husband left home to defend it. It is not clear if he will come back. Historical context: only 14 people died that night, but the casualties were expected to be higher, because people went against the army with their bare hands.
The other event is how she goes to a doctor, because she is still lactating despite her youngest child being past nursing age. She goes there twice, the second time the doctor sleeps with her. She seems ambivalent about it.
The last part I remember is her walking on a frozen pond with her children. The older child finds a spot where the ice is transparent, and says:
“I see something. A land.”
Hence the name of the story, “A Land of Ice”