A dark story of friendship, memory and war: and, for once, the blurb of Alice in Wonderland meets Elena Ferrante is spot on. Lots of other literary and cultural references here from the iconic Thelma and Louise to James Joyce - but, importantly, Bastasic claims her own voice, too. The road trip as a psychological journey is a well-used trope, of course, but it's rarer to see it embarked on by two women. This definitely joins the literature inspired by the Balkan wars and in places reminded me of 'Asylum Road' by Olivia Sudjic.

I'd just add that the cover looks sunnier than the story inside.

An absolute must for Ferrante fans, this is a stunning novel about the ties that bind childhood friends Lejla and Sara, 12 years after they last spoke. A visceral portrait of a complex female friendship set against the backdrop of the break-up of Yugoslavia told in an almost-fairytale style (it’s no coincidence that the epigraph comes from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland), this is a rich and lyrical novel that I couldn’t put down. It’s also extremely well translated (by the author) and doesn’t suffer from the slightly tin ear that some translations do. Highly recommended - thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

This is one of the last books I read in 2020 and also one of the best. The writing itself is amazing (with the English translation done by the author herself); a book with hardly a wasted word makes quite an intense read.

The protagonist is Sara, a young woman born in Bosnia, now living in Dublin with her boyfriend. It becomes clear she has worked hard to disassociate and distance herself from all things Bosnia. Out of the blue, her best friend from childhood, Lejla, (who she hasn’t spoken to for 12 yrs) calls asking Sara to drive her from Mostar (southern Bosnia) to Vienna. Although they have not communicated for years, there is still a final link between them of childhood trauma – Lejla had an older brother who disappeared during the Bosnian war when the girls were 11/12yo. Lejla tells Sara her brother is in Vienna, and so she goes to her.

As they wind their way across the countries, each chapter is split in two - the first half tells the present, the second recounts an event from their shared past. It becomes clear they do not always remember things the same way – but who is remembering correctly and who is lying to themselves? It is hard to decide when both must be scarred from their experiences - Lejla belonged to the persecuted minority where they lived (Banja Luka, NW Bosnia) and the family had to change their names when it started, around the same time her brother went missing. Neither of them believed Lejla's brother was dead, even when one of his friends turned up floating in the river. Despite not having been in the minority, Sara is yet also damaged, in part from experiencing second hand Lejla’s misfortunes via their friendship. In addition, they both grew up in this toxic war environment, unimaginable for many of us. The text does not contain graphic war conflict, but rather an undercurrent of dread and threat, showing another side of the damage wrought on everyone, especially the young:

“I would lie to foreigners later on. I was too little, I would say, I wasn’t even aware of what was going on. But that’s not true. We knew, you and I. We knew it had started, that they had started it. We knew it would last. Soon it was a constant, like an extra chemical element in the air.”

As they drive through Bosnia, darkness falls almost as soon as it is afternoon. At first I was confused, double checking my map and wondering why it went dark there so early, before coming to the conclusion that it was figurative – Sara is so traumatised that the place is eternally dark for her:

“Not a big deal – Zagreb, Mostar, Vienna. Not the end of the world… Bosnia. Lejla. That’s not a two-week holiday after which you come home and go to bed with Michael. That’s like going back to heroin. I had already gotten myself dirty with my mother tongue.”
&
“Home was not Bosnia. Bosnia is something else. A rusty anchor in a sea full of piss. You keep getting tetanus shots, although it’s been years. Bosnia is not home.”

There are unexpected lighter touches though – like a book quote game they played together, which has provided me with a future read. For extra interest, I followed their journey on google maps as I read, and my geographic knowledge of that area is also now improved.
As well as within their 'book game' there are other literary mentions, but these references do not make the book inaccessible – I didn’t feel like it was (too far) over my head - and if you are not familiar with them it makes no difference to the story that's being told.

The writing itself, as I mentioned already, is beautiful. The imagery can be quite unexpected and original:

“…behind you the church is shining like a freshly polished coffee grinder…”

I highlighted many sentences in this book that I found striking.
Due to life getting in the way I read this slowly over a couple of weeks, but when I wasn't reading, I was thinking about it - Sara and Lejla's relationship is unusual; they were very different to each other back then, and their lives are starkly different now. I felt I got to know the characters more reading at this pace - the book got under my skin so will stay with me longer. Obviously there is a melancholic undercurrent throughout, which is to be expected considering the subjects, but although unsettling it is a necessary and worthwhile read. I had an inkling how it would pan out, and I wasn’t a million miles away, but for me the journey through the book was just as important as the ending.

I will definitely be reading Lana Bastašić’s next book.

Sara, a Bosnian writer and poet, has settled down in Dublin, and has more or less succeeded in forgetting her past, her country of origin and the uncomfortable memories of a fractured, post-war state. One day, however, Sara receives an unexpected phone call from Lejla, the best friend with whom she shared her childhood and coming of age. Even though they have not spoken for twelve years, the voice of Lejla, the special friend with whom Sara shared her childhood and coming of age, draws her back to the Balkans. Lejla’s brother Armin, who disappeared during the atrocities of the Bosnian war, has reappeared in Vienna and Lejla wants her friend to drive her from Bosnia to the Austrian capital to track him down. But what exactly are the two friends looking for? Is it Armin, or is it, perhaps, a better understanding of their shared past?

Lana Bastašić’s debut novel, winner of the European Union Prize for Literature 2020, is being published in an English translation by the author herself. The novel’s title – Catch the Rabbit – is an homage to Lewis Carroll and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Like Alice’s surreal adventure underground, Bastašić creates a world which, although rooted in reality, is peopled by figures who are larger than life. Chief amongst these is Lejla, the real protagonist of this novel despite the fact that the narrator is Sara. The story does feature a real rabbit, which is a key element in Sara and Lejla’s shared memories. But it also serves as one of several narrative connections between Catch the Rabbit and Alice. Don’t expect, however, an entertaining children’s book. Like Carroll, Bastašić plays around with narrative logic but her themes and aims are dead serious. This is a novel around friendship along the divisive lines created by war, about adults rethinking and reinterpreting their childhood memories (and not necessarily liking what they find there). It is a book which can be uplifting, but which is equally painful in the realities it brings home to the narrator and, implicitly, the reader.

Indeed, if I have a reservation about this English edition, it is the cover. While it brings out nicely the novel’s more fantastical, psychedelic elements, its garish colours also hint at a light-hearted female buddy road novel. Catch the Rabbit is much darker than that.

Excellent novel about female friendship. Sara will have to confront her past on a road trip with a long lost friend and a trip down memory lane.
Five stars.

This was extremely touching and beautiful, reminiscent of Elena Ferrante's well known works. The author had an amazing ability to put to words so many feelings I have experiences, and likely so many others. It was a bit slow moving for me but I do think that is part of the build up of the story - I could see this title becoming many, many people's favorites and it will definitely stay in my thoughts

In this “Yugoslavian” novel translated by the author we are given a seemingly simple “road trip” story overlain and underlain too by so much more. Narrator Sara – a writer and poet – now lives in Dublin with her partner of some years, Michael. Out of the blue she is contacted by her best childhood friend Lejla – someone she he has not spoken to for over twelve years after a falling out on a simple beach holiday. Lejla asks if she will fly out to meet her in Mostar and drive her to Vienna to meet with her brother Armin who has been “missing” for decades.
The name Mostar might immediately ring bells with readers of a certain age. Because in the 1980s the republic of Yugoslavia fell apart in a vicious civil war, bombing of civilian areas, genocidal activities, with increasing reports of rape camps of young women and children, men and boys were separated to camps and then mass graves, and civilians in outer villages being rounded up and burnt alive in churches and other buildings. Mostar was renowned for a medieval bridge that spanned the river and its diverse communities. The bridge was deliberately bombed.
So we have two estranged friends living entirely different lives meeting again for a joint purpose. Lejla in a moment of irritation challenges writer Sara to write a story about her – this might be that story. We are told of their early friendship from the first day of school. Their different families are recounted initially through the remembered perspective of Sara as a child and then as a teenager and young adult. As the story develops the complexity of the community life around then – and its risks as the country lurches towards war – unfolds. Sara’s father is a senior policeman, Lejla’s father is dead and her brother Armin will “disappear” one of a growing group, some of whom will be found dead. Lejla as she grows, changes her name and identity, unsuspected by Sara at the time, but in retrospect seen as protection against risks. The girls mix, grow, diverge in interests and finally fall out.
So this unexpected request means they meet again and at the same time – as recounted by Sara - fall back into their old ways of closeness, squabbles, misunderstandings, but later resentments. This will generate quarrels in which their differing views of incidents in the past (and their importance) can be aired. But overlain with this discussion of a seemingly heavily conflicted time is the fact that they are together again. In twelve years they have moved not just physically apart but have built different lifestyles. Sara is safe in the European “west” with a work and life style that she has chosen. Lejla it will become clear is living in poverty, in a loveless marriage unable to have children and working at tiring low paid jobs. Although Sara saw her as more powerful, as the “leader” and one who will achieve, the circumstances of her life have drawn her to a much less satisfactory place. But Lejla has had the vision nonetheless to draw Sara to Vienna not just to search for something important – in different ways to each – from their past. But has also sent out a cry for help as she tries to rekindle their old friendship offering a special moment.
This is a novel about friendship, family and memory and how the old feeds into the present. But are what might be false memories having a damaging impact on a person’s behaviour and choices into later life. But as well as the two main characters we also have the reader. Are the stories filtered through your experience true, misinformed or even valid nonetheless? It is unclear whether the two characters will stay in contact, or if their relationship will finally fade under their recent meeting. But the universal issue is that friendship through actions and (inevitably different) memories are created and maintained for better or worse. So the timeless questions how and why are not just applicable to this story’s particular time and place.

“’Hello, you.’
After twelve years of complete silence, I hear her voice again.”

Here’s where the adventure begins in Lana Bastašić’s melancholic and brilliant book “Catch the Rabbit.” Sara and Lejla used to be close friends all through school. Until Lejla suddenly goes off the radar all those years ago. And then, out of the blue, Lejla reaches out to Sara, interrupting the rhythm she has established for herself. Lejla coaxes Sara to accompany her to meet Lejla’s brother, Armin in Vienna. Armin was one of the many who ‘disappeared’ during the Bosnian war and it appears that he has resurfaced. As always, Sara cannot refuse Lejla, and they meet in their hometown in Bosnia before setting off on a road trip.

The premise barely touches the surface of this incredibly textured novel about female friendship, growing up, and living with a war raging in the background. The road trip is an allegory on multiple levels. It’s a synchronous journey simultaneously into the past and into the future as they chase down the hope of seeing Armin again. It’s a trip exploring the maze of their complicated friendship, as memories resurface. It’s a trip they each take into their own as well as shared selves tackling their demons, unravelling knots. As we go deeper into their stories, we see the different paths Lejla and Sara have taken, and their vastly dissimilar lives now.

This rabbit hole of a story is wrought in the tradition of Alice in Wonderland, which is referenced right at the beginning. It’s a rabbit hole where you do get lost, especially since Sara and Lejla remember things differently many times. So, even though you feel a little more sympathetic towards Sara, at first, you start questioning the things you read. Who’s telling the truth here? We don’t know for sure.

Bastašić has done a fantastic translation of her own work, which won the European Union Prize for Literature last year. I would love to read more of her works.

An impressive winner of the European Prize for Literature, now translated into English by the author, a female Bosnian writer in her early thirties. I highlight her gender because there are hardly any published young female Bosnian authors translated into English and Lana Bastašić’s novel deserves wider attention.

Catch the Rabbit takes place over a road trip taken by two school friends who haven’t seen or spoken to each other in 12 years. The narrator, Sara receives a surprise call from Lejla asking for help in locating her brother, who disappeared during the civil war in Bosnia and is thought to be in Vienna. Their friendship had broken down while both were studying at university and after completing her degree, Sara moved to Dublin where she now lives but agrees to help Lejla despite not being comfortable with returning home. For her, the trip is both temporal and mental as she remembers key events of her friendship with Lejla. The shadow of war and its long-lasting effects is ever present – literally as darkness that descends as Sara and Lejla drive closer to their hometown and only clears after they leave Bosnia. At times, Sara’s narration implies that their friendship was somewhat toxic but gradually we learn that Lejla remembers things differently and that Sara is an unreliable narrator. Sara’s relationship with her mother also raises questions.

Bastašić has been called Balkan’s Elena Ferante and while I’m one of the 5 people remaining who haven’t read Ferante, her book title Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay frequently came to mind. For those who left Bosnia during or, in the aftermath of the war often have complicated and complex relationships with their home country, not least the trauma caused by the war or the sense of guilt for leaving. Lejla stayed and has not had an easy life or the opportunities. Sara’s leaving may have opened up opportunities but she is unmoored. I thought Bastašić handled this exploration of friendship under the trauma of war very well.

Overall, Catch the Rabbit is a very good book. Bastašić is a clever, ambitious writer and I’m really looking forward to reading more of her books even though I found this one unsettling at times. Bastašić grew up in my home town, where literally the darkest part of the novel is set and while I thought some of the symbolism she uses a bit heavy handed, it was fascinating, yes unsettling but also really fascinating to read.

My thanks to Pan Macmillan, Picador and Netgalley for the opportunity to read Catch the Rabbit.

There was no chance I wouldn't pick up something from an author from the Balkans. I grew up there, and up until three years ago I lived there, so I was excited to first of all, experience a familiar setting, hear the familiar words and truly enjoy the settings that I know all too well.

What would you if a friends who you haven't spoken to in years, and who you thought treated you poorly, all of a sudden calls you to pick her up? Sara and Lejla go on this trip together, which ends up being a trip to the past as well, through the memories about their lives and relationships, and because they have a lot of baggage (excuse the pun), this is so much more than just a favour to a long lost friend in need, or just a road trip.

This book covers a lot of topics, but it was very masterfully put together. The writing is amazing, and it's easy to go through the book. Sit down, pick it up and don't get up until you're done. The author manages to use phrases and words carefully to demonstrate all the feelings and thoughts, and she packs such a powerful punch in each and every sentence. The language is sharp and on point, and I truly liked it.

I will be recommending this to my friends and everyone I know. Great job to the author!

The Elena Ferrante comparisons came to mind as I began this story of a difficult, female friendship that begins in childhood, but they slipped away as the story revealed itself as something unique. Sara and Lejla’s friendship stalled 12 years before a phone call from Lejla summons Sara from her new life in Dublin to drive her to Vienna. Armin, Lejla’s brother, who disappeared years before, is there. Sara drops everything to meet Lejla in Mostar to start the journey. The Bosnian conflict is in the past but its presence is felt in every page of the story which takes us back to childhood and then to the present of the road trip. Sara has worked hard to shed Bosnia - her language, her culture, her history and family. Sara remembers drunkenly kissing Lejla on their teenage summer holiday. Lejla: “‘You can’t do that in Bosnia‘. ‘We’re not in Bosnia’ I answered.” And Lejla responds, looking at Sara as if she were a child and says ‘We’re always in Bosnia”. Sara narrates the novel story, describing Lejla as brilliant, spiky, difficult, sometimes really unlikeable. But how reliable is Sara as our storyteller? Lejla’s memories are different and challenge Sara’s version of events even as Sara describes Lejla as living completely in the present with no use for the past. I loved this book (except for the description of Sara’s very fat mother, fatness a shorthand for everything horrible, it seems, and a disappointing, lazy aspect of the writing). I know some readers found the ending unsatisfying but it worked for me.

Sara has been living for years in Dublin, Ireland, when she suddenly got a call from her childhood friend, Lejla Berić, telling her that Lejla just discovered that her long-lost brother, Armin, is now in Vienna. When Lejla demands Sara to return back home to Bosnia, somehow she decides to leave the comfort of her partner, Michael, their avocado plant, and their nudist neighbour to the country that is totally different from her memories of it. Their journeys to drive from Mostar to Vienna becomes something along the line of Kerouac’s ‘On The Road’ in which two friends, Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty travelled by car around the United States. In Lana Bastašić’s ‘wonderland’, however, we are brought to traverse the Balkans into the Austrian capital.

Road stories often provide a ready space for exploration, according to Cohan and Hark, of different landscapes, contributing to the encounter of the traveller with him/herself or with the Other. In this story, the Other is the old Sara who used to grow up in Bosnia, admiring Lejla’s brother Armin, whose life suddenly changed after the Bosnian War (even though it’s not explicitly described). In conversation with herself, Sara draws a comparison with the current Lejla whom she has not met for 12 years. Their latest memory together was burying a rabbit, and their lives started to drift apart as they befriended different people in their college days.

Throughout the story, I got the inkling that this is more a way for Sara who has been adjusted to a comfortable living in Western Europe, to rediscover her old roots in the Balkans that she deemed as backward, provincial, inefficient (you name it!). Lejla’s call at a random time is just a pretext for her to return to Bosnia. As she drives the car between Mostar and Vienna, the journey reawakened Sara’s memories with Lejla, which make her question the choice of her life to settle in Dublin, changing the language that she spoke daily (she seems to have some issues with using Bosnian), and even the way Lejla started to embrace the western culture that to Sara seemed weird.

Lana Bastašić describes that this book is a result of her years of working abroad in Spain. It has some unique approach to the issues at home, seen from the perspective of an exile who has been living away from home for quite a while. In some ways, it is also a form of reflection of the war-time trauma from the way of Sara and Lejla who journeyed to find Armin who got lost amidst the war. But not using the conventional way of retelling war-time experience in realist actions, the author uses friendship and journey to form the spaces of Bosnia and the former Yugoslavian territories (there are frequent references to war, partisanship, and life under Tito’s regime in the story).

As a debut novel, ‘Catch the Rabbit’ is quite promising. It helps me imagine the situation in the Balkans and the issue that the characters are facing (which hits too close to home for me). Would be interested to read the next lines of work from the author.

Sara left Bosnia years ago, finally settling in Dublin, and has succeeded in leaving her country thoroughly behind, cancelling all traces of it from herself and her life. Until she receives an unexpected phone call that undoes all her efforts. It's Lejla, Sara' best friend from childhood, whom she hasn't spoken to in twenty years. At Lejla's request, Sara drops everything and hurries back to Bosnia, embarking on a road trip across Europe to find Lejla's brother, Armin, who disappeared during the war and everyone else presumed dead.

During the journey, Sara is forced to confront her origins, her relationships (especially that with Lejla) and the past she so desperately tried to forget. The book is narrated by Sara herself, as if speaking with Lejla, and alternates an account of their road trip with past episodes, slowly leading up to the events that led their friendship to fall apart. As a result, everything is filtered by Sara's perception, feelings, and faltering memory. Memories are notoriously unreliable, and Sara's is no exception. It becomes clear quite early on that she and Lejla have very different recollections of the same events, begging the question: where does the truth lie?

I was very much reminded of Elena Ferrante's books when reading Catch the Rabbit, both in the relationship between the two main characters (which strongly resembles that between Lenu and Lila) and the narration style, a game of mirrors where the truth is always hiding and individual desires shape the perception of reality. While I didn't particularly like Sara and Lejla as individuals, I did love them as characters. Both are deeply complex and masterfully drawn by the author, showing how the past influences present lives, expectations pollute relationships, and loss and trauma leave deep, often unhealing, wounds.

The writing is exceptional and the author did a wonderful job of translating her work into English. It's clear that every word has been pondered, every sentence expertly crafted, and nothing is left to chance. The circular structure of the book is highly original and clever indeed. It did leave me perplexed for a while when I reached the ending but, once I understood it, I definitely appreciated it. One negative aspect for me was that I struggled with certain passages throughout, and sometimes had to re-read them to ensure I had understood correctly, which slowed the pace for me and took me out of the story. The ending left me with just as many questions as I had at the beginning, and brought me to think about this book long after the final page had been turned.

Catch the Rabbit is a beautiful homage to Alice in Wonderland, where most things and words have multiple meanings, and truth and reality are as elusive as a white rabbit. Steeped in Balkan history and culture, this is a multilayered read touching on several themes, such as friendship, family, identity, diversity, loss, the effects of war and so many more besides - and I'm sure more still would emerge on a re-read. Well-suited to lovers of My Brilliant Friend and Balkan history and those who enjoy deep, complex and problematic characters.