MICK MCSHANE is roused by a band whose socialism laces every line of every song with commitment and raw passion

ATTENTION deficit often follows the passing of the foremost women writers.
In the case of Dubravka Ugresic, who died last month, under-appreciation of her brilliance was a constant through much of her life. Published in over 20 languages, Ugresic’s repertoire of novels, essays, short stories, and counter-cultural forms deserve to make her a household name. She is also a historical figure, a key observer of the Eastern and central European fragmentation still unfolding.
Born in Yugoslavia in 1949, Ugresic experienced a childhood limited in Western-style stimulations – children, for instance, made their own ragdolls in the former Yugoslavia as the factories focused on more important production. Through this lack, Ugresic formed a taste for literature under the supervision of her local librarian, who saw no reason a child should not enter imaginary domains such as Kafka’s Metamorphosis.

FIONA O’CONNOR steps warily through a novel that skewers many of the exposed flanks of the over-privileged


