The Crystal Bell

The smell of cakes and food is the one that will most often take us, just like Proust, back to our childhood, provoke happy memories and the ones not so happy, spark repressed emotions. Mother’s cookbook, written down in a typical socialist-style notebook, full of recipes for all the ordinary, everyday meals, for cakes to be baked for celebratory occasions or to have something sweet in the house, served Mirko Božić as a trigger to write a series of stories about his native Mostar, about his family, coming of age, about himself. Poetically playful, like a child in front of a box of candy, with each new taste, each new treat, the author delves deeper and deeper into memories and recreates a world lost in the vortex of war and illness. This mash-up presents itself to the reader as a scattered novel, as a familiar story, an equally special and universal coming-of-age story about learning to understand the world around us. Like a cake, carefully baked and served with love, The Crystal Bell becomes the most beautiful and lasting monument an artist can build to his mother and donate to his childhood city.