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Dievų miškas
„Dievų miškas“ — memuarinis lietuvių rašytojo ir poeto Balio Sruogos romanas, parašytas 1945 m. Jame atsispindi rašytojo išgyvenimai nacių Štuthofo koncentracijos stovykloje, į kurią B. Sruoga buvo išsiųstas 1943 m. kovą. Romanas kupinas ironijos ir pasišaipymo iš lagerių tvarkos, elgesio su kaliniais ir apskritai iš visos esamos situacijos, ryški sarkastiška ironija ir juodasis humoras (kalinių mušimo, lavonų tampymo scenos), kuris buvo vienintelis būdas, leidęs bent kiek atsitverti nuo šaltai apgalvotos, racionalizuotos žmonių naikinimo sistemos.
Knygą B. Sruoga parašė vos per kelis mėnesius, tik grįžęs iš koncentracijos stovyklos į Lietuvą 1945 m. vasarą, besigydydamas Birštono sanatorijoje. Jos spausdinimas sovietinės priespaudos laikais buvo uždraustas.
Knygą B. Sruoga parašė vos per kelis mėnesius, tik grįžęs iš koncentracijos stovyklos į Lietuvą 1945 m. vasarą, besigydydamas Birštono sanatorijoje. Jos spausdinimas sovietinės priespaudos laikais buvo uždraustas.
320 pages
First published January 1, 1957
About the author
Balys Sruoga
13 books34 followersBalys Sruoga (February 2, 1896, near Biržai, Lithuania - October 16, 1947, Vilnius) was a Lithuanian poet, playwright, critic, and literary theorist.
He contributed to cultural journals from his early youth. His works were published by the liberal wing of the Lithuanian cultural movement, and also in various Lithuanian newspapers and other outlets (such as Aušrinė, Rygos Naujienos etc.). In 1914 he began studying literature in St. Petersburg, Russia, and later in Moscow, due to World War I and the Russian Revolution. In 1921 he enrolled in the University of Munich, where in 1924 he received his Ph.D for a doctoral thesis on Lithuanian folklore.
After returning to Lithuania, Sruoga taught at the University of Lithuania, and established a theater seminar that eventually became a course of study. He also wrote various articles on literature. From 1930 he began writing dramas, first Milžino paunksmė, later Radvila Perkūnas, Baisioji naktis and Aitvaras teisėjas. In 1939 he began teaching at Vilnius University.
He wrote many dramatic works and poetry, but his best known work is the novel The Forest of Gods (Dievų miškas), based on his own life experiences as a prisoner in Nazi German concentration camps, where he was sent in March 1943 together with forty-seven other Lithuanian intellectuals. Sruoga and the others were sent there after the Nazis started a campaign against possible anti-Nazi agitation in occupied Lithuania. In The Forest of Gods Balys Sruoga revealed life in a concentration camp through the eyes of a man whose only way to save his life and maintain his dignity was to view everything through a veil of irony and humor, where torturers and their victims are exposed as imperfect human beings, being far removed from the false ideals of their political leaders. For example, "Human - is not a machine. Gets tired." - in regards to the guards beating prisoners. Originally the novel was forbidden to be published by Soviet officials; it was ultimately published in 1957, ten years after the author's death. In 1945 he returned to Vilnius and continued teaching at Vilnius University, where he wrote the dramas Pajūrio kurortas and Barbora Radvilaitė.
Refusal to publish The Forest of Gods, and weak health resulting from his time in concentration camps, led to his death in October 16, 1947.[1] The 2005 film Forest of the Gods was based on the book.
He contributed to cultural journals from his early youth. His works were published by the liberal wing of the Lithuanian cultural movement, and also in various Lithuanian newspapers and other outlets (such as Aušrinė, Rygos Naujienos etc.). In 1914 he began studying literature in St. Petersburg, Russia, and later in Moscow, due to World War I and the Russian Revolution. In 1921 he enrolled in the University of Munich, where in 1924 he received his Ph.D for a doctoral thesis on Lithuanian folklore.
After returning to Lithuania, Sruoga taught at the University of Lithuania, and established a theater seminar that eventually became a course of study. He also wrote various articles on literature. From 1930 he began writing dramas, first Milžino paunksmė, later Radvila Perkūnas, Baisioji naktis and Aitvaras teisėjas. In 1939 he began teaching at Vilnius University.
He wrote many dramatic works and poetry, but his best known work is the novel The Forest of Gods (Dievų miškas), based on his own life experiences as a prisoner in Nazi German concentration camps, where he was sent in March 1943 together with forty-seven other Lithuanian intellectuals. Sruoga and the others were sent there after the Nazis started a campaign against possible anti-Nazi agitation in occupied Lithuania. In The Forest of Gods Balys Sruoga revealed life in a concentration camp through the eyes of a man whose only way to save his life and maintain his dignity was to view everything through a veil of irony and humor, where torturers and their victims are exposed as imperfect human beings, being far removed from the false ideals of their political leaders. For example, "Human - is not a machine. Gets tired." - in regards to the guards beating prisoners. Originally the novel was forbidden to be published by Soviet officials; it was ultimately published in 1957, ten years after the author's death. In 1945 he returned to Vilnius and continued teaching at Vilnius University, where he wrote the dramas Pajūrio kurortas and Barbora Radvilaitė.
Refusal to publish The Forest of Gods, and weak health resulting from his time in concentration camps, led to his death in October 16, 1947.[1] The 2005 film Forest of the Gods was based on the book.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 183 reviews
May 26, 2013
If I would to recommend one Lithuanian book for the foreigner, it would be this one - The Forest of Gods. Its style makes you smile through the tears. The irony is a way of coping with grotesque reality, the only way of keeping sanity. Hands down, one of the best Lithuanian books.
May 14, 2021
Atstovausiu tikrai nepopuliarią nuomonę, bet "Dievų miškui" iki geros knygos trūksta daug. Aš suprantu, kad tai knyga apie išgyvenimą, apie nežmoniškumą, apie Hobbes'iškąjį "Žmogus žmogui - vilkas". Taip pat visiškai akivaizdu, kad pasirinkta pasakojimo forma - satyra - yra Sruogos skydas, atsitraukimas nuo siaubingų, kankinančių išgyvenimų ir prisiminimų apie juos. Bet ar tai jau yra pakankamas pagrindas knygą įvardinti kaip gerą? Ne.
Knyga nuobodi. Pirma pusė išvis primena sąvadą, koks esesininkas ką valdė, kuo jis buvo vardu, kiek mušė, kaip mušė, kiek gėrė, kaip gėrė, iš naujo. Taip ir sukasi pasakojimo ratas: mušė-gėrė-mušė-gerė-mušė-gėrė-vogė-mušė-gėrė-mušė-gėrė ir t.t. Laimei, nuo knygos vidurio pagaliau reikalai pasitaisė, buvo labiau žvelgiama ne į pavienius karo nusikaltėlius, o į pačią lagerio kasdienybę, socialinę struktūrą, darbų vykdymo schemą ir panašius klausimus, kurie pasakojimui suteikė dinamikos ir ištraukė iš blankaus pilkšvo mušė-gėrė rūko.
Satyra apskritai yra toks žanras, kurį rašyti labai sunku - tam neužtenka vien kandaus liežuvio ar gebėjimo juoktis iš visko. Gerai satyrai, mano kuklia nuomone, dar svarbu ir gebėjimas perduoti skaitytojui visus pasakotojo pojūčius ir ypač jo požiūrį, atspindėti situacijos absurdiškumą ar kvailumą. Sruogos satyra gi šiuo atveju tuo pačius lagerio kalinius tiek nužmogina, kad man efektas kyla visiškai atvirkštinis - nieko nebematau ir apskritai neberūpi. Numirė trisdešimt klipatėlių, o dar penkioliką pakorė? Šiaip baisu, bet kai perskaitai atsiliepimą, sudėliotą tokiu stiliumi, kad vos ne čia visiškai normalu ir šiaip patys klipatos ir kalti, kad numirė, natūraliai po kurio laiko kyla abejingumas. Numirė tai numirė, užmušė tai užmušė, kam tu čia vargsti dar apie tai rašyti. Galbūt taip pasireiškia ir tas pats mano minėtas skydas, autoriaus savisauga, gal...
Apskritai, aišku, knyga vertinga. Paskaityti ir įdomu, ir tuo pačiu - baisu. Vis neapleidžia mintis "o ką pats darytum jo vietoj". Bet, kaip jau sakiau, knygos trūkumų tai neatperka. Nebuvo blogai, bet šlovinti reikalo irgi nematau. 3*.
Knyga nuobodi. Pirma pusė išvis primena sąvadą, koks esesininkas ką valdė, kuo jis buvo vardu, kiek mušė, kaip mušė, kiek gėrė, kaip gėrė, iš naujo. Taip ir sukasi pasakojimo ratas: mušė-gėrė-mušė-gerė-mušė-gėrė-vogė-mušė-gėrė-mušė-gėrė ir t.t. Laimei, nuo knygos vidurio pagaliau reikalai pasitaisė, buvo labiau žvelgiama ne į pavienius karo nusikaltėlius, o į pačią lagerio kasdienybę, socialinę struktūrą, darbų vykdymo schemą ir panašius klausimus, kurie pasakojimui suteikė dinamikos ir ištraukė iš blankaus pilkšvo mušė-gėrė rūko.
Satyra apskritai yra toks žanras, kurį rašyti labai sunku - tam neužtenka vien kandaus liežuvio ar gebėjimo juoktis iš visko. Gerai satyrai, mano kuklia nuomone, dar svarbu ir gebėjimas perduoti skaitytojui visus pasakotojo pojūčius ir ypač jo požiūrį, atspindėti situacijos absurdiškumą ar kvailumą. Sruogos satyra gi šiuo atveju tuo pačius lagerio kalinius tiek nužmogina, kad man efektas kyla visiškai atvirkštinis - nieko nebematau ir apskritai neberūpi. Numirė trisdešimt klipatėlių, o dar penkioliką pakorė? Šiaip baisu, bet kai perskaitai atsiliepimą, sudėliotą tokiu stiliumi, kad vos ne čia visiškai normalu ir šiaip patys klipatos ir kalti, kad numirė, natūraliai po kurio laiko kyla abejingumas. Numirė tai numirė, užmušė tai užmušė, kam tu čia vargsti dar apie tai rašyti. Galbūt taip pasireiškia ir tas pats mano minėtas skydas, autoriaus savisauga, gal...
Apskritai, aišku, knyga vertinga. Paskaityti ir įdomu, ir tuo pačiu - baisu. Vis neapleidžia mintis "o ką pats darytum jo vietoj". Bet, kaip jau sakiau, knygos trūkumų tai neatperka. Nebuvo blogai, bet šlovinti reikalo irgi nematau. 3*.
March 25, 2017
Negaliu pakęsti lietuvių rašytojų, tačiau Balį Sruogą galiu priskirti prie tų nedaugelio mėgiamų lietuvių rašytojų, kuriuos galiu suskaičiuoti ant vienos rankos pirštų. Jis turėjo tai ko neturi šiuolaikiniai lietuvių rašytojai- humoro jausmo. Ypač juodojo humoro ir ironijos. Balys Sruoga sugebėjo savo vargą paversti juoku, o štai visi kiti lietuvių rašytojai tik dejuoja ir dejuoja kokie jų veikėjai ar jie patys nelaimingi. Sruoga parodė, jog jis ne toks. Ir be to jo rašymo stilius savotiškas, kas reta šiais laikais.
"Dievų miško" mokykloje skaičiau tik ištraukas. Dabar radau laiko perskaityti visą knygą. Galbūt jo savotiškas požiūris į gyvenimą ir padėjo jam išlikti lageryje. O svarbiausia, kad skaudi patirtis įkvėpė parašyti savo geriausią knygą, kurią dabar skaito mokyklose. Laimingas, viskuom aptekęs žmogus niekada neparašys geros knygos, tik skaudi patirtis atveria kelią kūrybai. Tad žemai lenkiuosi Baliui Sruogai už šią puikią knygą!
"Dievų miško" mokykloje skaičiau tik ištraukas. Dabar radau laiko perskaityti visą knygą. Galbūt jo savotiškas požiūris į gyvenimą ir padėjo jam išlikti lageryje. O svarbiausia, kad skaudi patirtis įkvėpė parašyti savo geriausią knygą, kurią dabar skaito mokyklose. Laimingas, viskuom aptekęs žmogus niekada neparašys geros knygos, tik skaudi patirtis atveria kelią kūrybai. Tad žemai lenkiuosi Baliui Sruogai už šią puikią knygą!
July 20, 2022
Nustebsi sužinojęs, kad tokia įdomi knyga buvo įtraukta į mokiniams privalomų perskaityti knygų sąrašą. Bet dar labiau nustebins humoras, kurio čia apstu, nors aprašomas gyvenimas koncentracijos stovykloje. Jei B. Sruoga nebūtų išgyvenęs to, ką aprašė turbūt būtų galima jį apkaltinti šaipymusi iš žmonių kančios, bet jis visa tai patyrė, todėl turi teisę apie tai juokauti.
November 1, 2014
Vienintelė knyga, kurią man liepė skaityti mokykloje... Ir kurią su malonumu perskaičiau.
To-bu-la. Trys žodžiai.
To-bu-la. Trys žodžiai.
August 3, 2020
Balys Sruoga is one of Lithuania’s literary luminaries of the early 20th century, but despite having specialized in Russian and East European area studies, I had never heard of him until my friend Eduardo reviewed anda recommended Sruoga’s memoir of his experiences in a concentration camp during World War II. The book's blurb describes it as "not only a heart- stirring document but also one of the finest specimens of Lithuanian prose", making it more surprising to me that I hadn't come across it before.
Between high school and university, I’d read a number of camp memoirs. But it was a completely different experience reading one as an adult. I thought I knew what I was reading then. There was nothing subtle about the drama of that history, the crimes so vast as to seemingly obscure any need for nuance. But, with the intervening time dulling the familiarity of the genre, reading this memoir drove home the point that the real power of these histories often lies in the details. It was not unlike what many people who visit the Auschwitz museum share as the things that hit them hardest. In my experience, people do not talk about the vastness of the mechanics devoted to the carrying out of genocide, nor the countless barracks, nor the stunning distance that was once filled by queues of prisoners disgorged from cattle trains facing the final selection that determined whether they would be sent to the gas chambers immediately, or given the chance to be worked and starved to death first. Instead, it is the comparatively little things, the details of the intensely bureaucratic management of mass murder, that Auschwitz museum visitors seem to remember most — the piles of items of daily life that were collected from the prisoners: the shoes, the shaving brushes, the eyeglasses.
Sruoga’s memoir is filled with the equivalent of these kinds of details. Through daily minutiae, his narrative builds a veritable taxonomy of camp life - the hierarchy, who does what, the unwritten rules, the codes of paying tribute and bribing other criminal officials, and the many petty ways to lose your life in camp.
But above all, what sets Sruoga's work apart is the singularly evocative tone of his prose. It was this tone that led my friend to bring up Sruoga in a discussion of Eduardo Galeano's Children of the Days -- a beautiful telling of inconvenient truths and missing histories that upends expectations and resists easy categorization. In Forest of the Gods, Sruoga's observations are made in an exquisitely tuned, darkly humorous, surprisingly un-vindictive tone. Without overt bitterness, Sruoga has you catching yourself almost laughing at what is simultaneously legitimately horrifying you. For example, take his description of Wacek Kozlowski, one of the camp enforcers drawn from the ranks of the prisoners themselves, designated "camp chiefs" by the authorities. Sruoga drily terms him "a specialist in beating, a connoisseur of execution", explaining how he used shoe or stick to regularly beat prisoners, then continues:
That last detail simply completes the picture of daily, mundane terror that the prisoners lived under, as much as the two paragraphs of description that precede it.
The author's evenhanded delivery takes nothing away from the devastation of the facts it describes; that the book's weighty truth is delivered with the lightest of touches only makes it more incisive, not less. The camp world is not just sinister, but absurdly so, and Sruoga's prose manages to make art out of this absurdity. Illustrations of this abound in the book - I'm finding myself at a loss to settle on just one or two excerpts to share because there are so many. The following two anecdotes, for instance, even appear on the same page, within just a paragraph of each other:
Then,
In the midst of countless such observations of absurdity, deprivation, and violence, all delivered in a similar tone, departures to straight commentary hit even harder. It's in this context that Sruoga communicates the most painful truth of his book: the degree to which dehumanization can become normal.
Becoming "an organically functional piece of the horror" -- what a terrible thing to contemplate. But it is a powerful testimony to Sruoga's skill that after finishing the book, you remember the beauty of his prose as much as the evils that it describes.
Between high school and university, I’d read a number of camp memoirs. But it was a completely different experience reading one as an adult. I thought I knew what I was reading then. There was nothing subtle about the drama of that history, the crimes so vast as to seemingly obscure any need for nuance. But, with the intervening time dulling the familiarity of the genre, reading this memoir drove home the point that the real power of these histories often lies in the details. It was not unlike what many people who visit the Auschwitz museum share as the things that hit them hardest. In my experience, people do not talk about the vastness of the mechanics devoted to the carrying out of genocide, nor the countless barracks, nor the stunning distance that was once filled by queues of prisoners disgorged from cattle trains facing the final selection that determined whether they would be sent to the gas chambers immediately, or given the chance to be worked and starved to death first. Instead, it is the comparatively little things, the details of the intensely bureaucratic management of mass murder, that Auschwitz museum visitors seem to remember most — the piles of items of daily life that were collected from the prisoners: the shoes, the shaving brushes, the eyeglasses.
Sruoga’s memoir is filled with the equivalent of these kinds of details. Through daily minutiae, his narrative builds a veritable taxonomy of camp life - the hierarchy, who does what, the unwritten rules, the codes of paying tribute and bribing other criminal officials, and the many petty ways to lose your life in camp.
But above all, what sets Sruoga's work apart is the singularly evocative tone of his prose. It was this tone that led my friend to bring up Sruoga in a discussion of Eduardo Galeano's Children of the Days -- a beautiful telling of inconvenient truths and missing histories that upends expectations and resists easy categorization. In Forest of the Gods, Sruoga's observations are made in an exquisitely tuned, darkly humorous, surprisingly un-vindictive tone. Without overt bitterness, Sruoga has you catching yourself almost laughing at what is simultaneously legitimately horrifying you. For example, take his description of Wacek Kozlowski, one of the camp enforcers drawn from the ranks of the prisoners themselves, designated "camp chiefs" by the authorities. Sruoga drily terms him "a specialist in beating, a connoisseur of execution", explaining how he used shoe or stick to regularly beat prisoners, then continues:
"Sometimes, though, apathy seemed to engulf him. Energy evaporated and he quit waving his stick like the chastener of old. At such times he'd order convicts to lie in rows in the dry or muddy yard. Then he'd walk among them and flail the stick every which way. Sometimes he lacked the mettle even for this comparatively easy task; then he'd stand over those on the ground and fling rocks and bricks at them. Whoever was hit with the rock got to keep it."
That last detail simply completes the picture of daily, mundane terror that the prisoners lived under, as much as the two paragraphs of description that precede it.
The author's evenhanded delivery takes nothing away from the devastation of the facts it describes; that the book's weighty truth is delivered with the lightest of touches only makes it more incisive, not less. The camp world is not just sinister, but absurdly so, and Sruoga's prose manages to make art out of this absurdity. Illustrations of this abound in the book - I'm finding myself at a loss to settle on just one or two excerpts to share because there are so many. The following two anecdotes, for instance, even appear on the same page, within just a paragraph of each other:
"Strangely enough, the vice-consul of Fascist Italy in Gdansk also wound up in camp! In the summer of 1943, before leaving for vacation, he had rented his villa to a Gestapo officer. Upon the consul's return, however, the Gestapo refused to vacate the premises. The Italian took the officer to court and won - but it was a hollow victory, for he landed in Stutthof Camp for his pains. The Gestapo officer kept the villa."
Then,
"Even women with small children, some still suckling the breast, ended up in camp. An infant was considered a full-fledged prisoner, rating a number and a triangle. Of course! But what kind of triangle is right and proper? The little thing isn't a thief yet, nor even a Jehovah's Witness. So the baby gets a red triangle - evidently it's a political felon!"
In the midst of countless such observations of absurdity, deprivation, and violence, all delivered in a similar tone, departures to straight commentary hit even harder. It's in this context that Sruoga communicates the most painful truth of his book: the degree to which dehumanization can become normal.
"The concentration camp was a very complex death mill. Every individual crossing over its threshold was actually already condemned to die - sooner or later. Frequent starvation, beatings, long hours of hard labor, nights of no rest, parasites, bad air -- sooner or later they did their job, if some other disaster didn't do it first, or if someone didn't take it into his head to finish you off himself.
In such an atmosphere, the cruel psyche of the camp resident matures. Thrust into a brutal environment, the instinct for survival takes over; a person scarcely has a chance to notice how he is drawn into a state of primal fear, how little by little he becomes an organically functional piece of the horror. The dreadful and drastic measures he takes to do battle with the Grim Reaper, he already views as mere expedients. His ethical sense grows dull; abominable acts no longer seem so loathsome. His only desire is to live. . . . It's hard to rediscover the golden mean, hard to tell the difference between self-preservation and ruthless injury to a friend."
Becoming "an organically functional piece of the horror" -- what a terrible thing to contemplate. But it is a powerful testimony to Sruoga's skill that after finishing the book, you remember the beauty of his prose as much as the evils that it describes.
December 6, 2021
Skaitant tokia baisia, nepatirta, neišgyventa ir ačiū die net protu sunkiai suvokiama tema, lengvai tariant nepatogu net turėti kažkokių linksmų minčių, bet Struogos sarkastiška ironija ir pasišaipymas iš lagerio ne kartą sukėlė šypsnį ir pakrizenti teko...
Balio Sruogos memuarų knygą apie Štuthofo koncentracijos stovyklą paskaityti verta... buvau ją skaičiusi ir mokykloje, gaila, kad neatsimenu kokios tada buvo mintys perskaičius, tad negaliu ir palyginti.
Balio Sruogos memuarų knygą apie Štuthofo koncentracijos stovyklą paskaityti verta... buvau ją skaičiusi ir mokykloje, gaila, kad neatsimenu kokios tada buvo mintys perskaičius, tad negaliu ir palyginti.
February 4, 2019
Ta prasme. O dievai. Viena juokingiausių skaitytų knygų (dėl absurdiškumo aišku). Šiurpas.
Kadangi tai memuarinis ir iš dalies autobiografinis kūrinys, tai vertinant kaip istorinę knygą viskas pasidaro dar šiurpiau.
Dar kartą.
Ką..?
Kadangi tai memuarinis ir iš dalies autobiografinis kūrinys, tai vertinant kaip istorinę knygą viskas pasidaro dar šiurpiau.
Dar kartą.
Ką..?
October 23, 2017
Painful yet sublime. How Sruoga was able to maintain a gently ribbing tone after his experiences, I will never understand and will hope to carry with me as an example.
Since this is a book you've probably never heard of: Balys Sruoga, prominent Lithuanian intellectual, documents his two years in a Nazi concentration camp. His voice is unique: a sort of tenderly naïve irony, neither accusatory nor hateful, that somehow makes the horrors ever so real while also providing a sort of buffer; allowing the reader to continue. It's an effective technique.
Since this is a book you've probably never heard of: Balys Sruoga, prominent Lithuanian intellectual, documents his two years in a Nazi concentration camp. His voice is unique: a sort of tenderly naïve irony, neither accusatory nor hateful, that somehow makes the horrors ever so real while also providing a sort of buffer; allowing the reader to continue. It's an effective technique.
December 19, 2023
perskaiciau puse… butu daugiau laiko pries rasini tai skaityciau visa nes zvengiau daugiau nei trolliu visas 3 dalis ziuredama
March 11, 2022
A beautiful piece of literature from cover to cover, and I enjoyed reading every word of it.
Balys got sent to Stutthof concentration camp in the spring of 1943, and managed to finally be free around two years later, while barely being alive, when the camp got evacuated. His story and how he tells it is incredibly moving, inspirational and impressive. It's a testament to how good of a writer Balys was with how easy this book is to read. The subject matter is extremely serious and can be very tough to read but he managed to make it light hearted, while remaining serious. I have nothing but good things to say about this book and it's one of if not my favorite book(s).
Couldn't recommend this one enough.
Balys got sent to Stutthof concentration camp in the spring of 1943, and managed to finally be free around two years later, while barely being alive, when the camp got evacuated. His story and how he tells it is incredibly moving, inspirational and impressive. It's a testament to how good of a writer Balys was with how easy this book is to read. The subject matter is extremely serious and can be very tough to read but he managed to make it light hearted, while remaining serious. I have nothing but good things to say about this book and it's one of if not my favorite book(s).
Couldn't recommend this one enough.
May 5, 2015
The story of author's Nazi concentration camp experience in Lithuania - but written through a bright lens. Overall one of the most hilarious books I have read. 5+
February 9, 2016
I was recommended to read this book when I was looking for literature from Lithuania. I enjoyed the wit, intellect and sarcasm that is found inherently in the book. However I did find the last few chapters a little more verbose than I had expected it to be and also felt the wit was slightly lost towards the end. Since it's also one of the few texts that has been translated to English from Lithuania, it's definitely a worthy read.
September 8, 2011
You can read this book again and again. It/s full of irony, it's full of comedian situations, but the main things lies on the tragedy of people's lives. How long can a simple man feel suffer, how not to become an animal. How to survive and forget your past.
Wonderful book...
Wonderful book...
February 14, 2019
Neįkainojamas mūsų šalies literatūrinis perlas prilygstantiems visiems pasaulietiniams kūriniams apie koncentracijos stovyklas.
April 14, 2022
So funny how upbeat and positive the entire book felt whilst he was describing the he darkest of human misery. The relationships. The characters. The tensions. Was all told like your grandpa was telling you about that one time in a field.
The odd part of it for me was how guardless most of it seemed. Like the prisoners had taken it on themselves to guard and move themselves through the camp.
The epilogue almost made me weep. And now I want to know so much more.
Good book.
Do recommend.
The odd part of it for me was how guardless most of it seemed. Like the prisoners had taken it on themselves to guard and move themselves through the camp.
The epilogue almost made me weep. And now I want to know so much more.
Good book.
Do recommend.
November 16, 2023
Galiu dabar pasakyt, vbe tikrai nesiremsiu.
February 4, 2018
Tikrai išskirtinė knyga.
December 31, 2018
Before reading it, I already knew it might become one of my favourites, and I wasn't disappointed.
It is definitely not an easy read. It's a book that shows you the nasty side of humanity and makes you wonder if any of those people involved in such cruelties were ever human and if so what made them become like this.
It also shows you the best side of humanity and how humans can overcome literally everything using their will power, their humour, and as Sruoga himself said 'just a little bit of luck'.
Weird as it is, it is also a very funny book. Sruoga was an extremely talented writer and it can be very easily seen in this book. He makes the most disgusting, the most horrible scenes humorous because of the use of satire and irony throughout the whole book. With only one seemingly innocent word, he insults the people responsible for the suffering more than anyone could, using the most crude language.
From a historical perspective, it gives a reader an enormous amount of knowledge about Nazi concentration camps, their structure and the people in that particular concentration camp. It was quite surprising to learn that sometimes the prisoners could be just as cruel to their own as the guards. It was to be or be killed situation and of course at the end of the day everyone fought for themselves. On the other hand, it also shows great acts of kindness and humanity which shine even brighter in these horrid circumstances than it normally would.
Overall, the book is both a good read and a testament to the sufferings of people in Stutthof concentration camp. It's both ugly and beautiful. It will make you feel disgusted but it will also make you laugh and then when you actually think about what you're laughing at, you will be sick to your stomach again.
I cannot recommend this book enough.
It is definitely not an easy read. It's a book that shows you the nasty side of humanity and makes you wonder if any of those people involved in such cruelties were ever human and if so what made them become like this.
It also shows you the best side of humanity and how humans can overcome literally everything using their will power, their humour, and as Sruoga himself said 'just a little bit of luck'.
Weird as it is, it is also a very funny book. Sruoga was an extremely talented writer and it can be very easily seen in this book. He makes the most disgusting, the most horrible scenes humorous because of the use of satire and irony throughout the whole book. With only one seemingly innocent word, he insults the people responsible for the suffering more than anyone could, using the most crude language.
From a historical perspective, it gives a reader an enormous amount of knowledge about Nazi concentration camps, their structure and the people in that particular concentration camp. It was quite surprising to learn that sometimes the prisoners could be just as cruel to their own as the guards. It was to be or be killed situation and of course at the end of the day everyone fought for themselves. On the other hand, it also shows great acts of kindness and humanity which shine even brighter in these horrid circumstances than it normally would.
Overall, the book is both a good read and a testament to the sufferings of people in Stutthof concentration camp. It's both ugly and beautiful. It will make you feel disgusted but it will also make you laugh and then when you actually think about what you're laughing at, you will be sick to your stomach again.
I cannot recommend this book enough.
April 3, 2020
„Dievų miškas” yra vienas iš tų kiekvievos lietuvių kalbos pedagogės ir filologės afrodiziakų, sukeliančių euforiją, nesuvokiamas liaupses ir vedantis pagyvenusias moteris iš proto. Arba bent tai aš supratau mokykloje, kai man kalė, koks svarbus šis kūrinys lietuvių literatūrai ir istorijai. Su šiuo teiginiu aš sutikti nenoriu kaip ir tuomet, kai buvau paauglys, kuriam per prievartą grūdama knyga buvo tarytum iššūkis nepaklusti, priešintis ir maištauti.. Vis dėlto, „Dievų miškas” iš tiesų yra svarbus, tačiau ne literatūrai ir toli gražu ne Lietuvos.
Jauną skaitytoją gali atgrąsyti, kūrinio kalba, kai kurie nesuprantami tarmiški, nebevartotini žodžiai, o pati tema taikos metu tolima ir nesuvokiama. Tremtis yra opi ir skaudi mūsų šalies ir protėvių žaizda. Tai tema apie kurią stengiamės nekalbėti, galbūt užmiršti, dairytis į šviesesnį rytojų. „Dievų miškas” yra paminklas rytų Europos tautų kančiai, priminimas ir šiaudas vilties nekartoti klaidų, įrėžusių gilų randą žmonijos istorijoje. Tai knyga, kuri geriau nei bet kuris istorijos vadovėlis pasakoja apie sielos skurdą, nužmogėjimą, tačiau kartu kuria ir sėja viltį. Tai knyga, kuri svarbi ne Lietuvos, bet viso pasaulio istorijai.
Jauną skaitytoją gali atgrąsyti, kūrinio kalba, kai kurie nesuprantami tarmiški, nebevartotini žodžiai, o pati tema taikos metu tolima ir nesuvokiama. Tremtis yra opi ir skaudi mūsų šalies ir protėvių žaizda. Tai tema apie kurią stengiamės nekalbėti, galbūt užmiršti, dairytis į šviesesnį rytojų. „Dievų miškas” yra paminklas rytų Europos tautų kančiai, priminimas ir šiaudas vilties nekartoti klaidų, įrėžusių gilų randą žmonijos istorijoje. Tai knyga, kuri geriau nei bet kuris istorijos vadovėlis pasakoja apie sielos skurdą, nužmogėjimą, tačiau kartu kuria ir sėja viltį. Tai knyga, kuri svarbi ne Lietuvos, bet viso pasaulio istorijai.
December 7, 2023
Tematiškai sunki, bet įdomi knygą, kuri nustebino mane savo sugebėjimu būti, kai kuriose vietose juokinga kalbant apie lagerio baisumus. Balys Sruoga yra tikrai nuostabus rašytojas ir vapšie neįsivaizduoju, kaip jis tame lageryje nepalūžo nuo visų matomų bei patirtų baisumų nacių valdžios. Mėgstamiausia citata: ,,Lageryje miršta žmonės visiškai nesijaudindami. Jie jokios tragedijos iš to nedaro. Pasaulio palikti jiem negaila. Jiem visa - vis tiek pat."
December 3, 2018
Satyra apie tai kas yra baisu... stipraus žmogaus stipri knyga
October 29, 2023
First time I read this book when I was sixteen or fifteen. It was an assigned reading in school during summer holidays. To be frank, I didn't remember a thing after reading it. The book was too difficult, because the story is not linear and for a young teenager who would rather play computer games this was a tough nut to crack.
But after reading about the dark and shadowy alleys of soviet Vilnius in "Vilnius Poker", after experiencing the intricate mind mazes of the character who returned from a labor camp, I've decided to revisit some of the prominent works of Lithuanian literature in an attempt to capture what I felt I've lost during my school years. I thought that this was a proper moment to re-visit "Dievų miškas" (Forest of the Gods) and have another glimpse at the pain and anguish of the prisoners of concentration camp. This year I've also read Viktor Frankl's "Man's search for meaning" - a very (I would say) optimistic approach to the subject matter. One more reason to get a deeper feel of that moment in history and also consider it through a Lithuanian's point of view.
Compared with Frankl's book Balys Sruoga's retelling of his experiences makes a stark contrast. His book sobers up the reader. If while reading Frankl you would think that faced with such a nightmarish institution as death camp, you will survive without a crippled soul, think again. All noble thoughts and deeds fade away in that place. As Balys Sruoga himself states, even the fear of death becomes a trash and looses its nobleness and lyricism. There's just too much death, you become numb to it. Your brain consciously devalues the grief and all that your left with is the role that the guards of the camp have labeled you, that of a parasite.
Of course, there are some prisoners that made it. They have managed to preserve their humanity, but such individuals are singular examples, naming the author among them. Though, Balys Sruoga in his memoir uses sarcasm, irony and dark humor, he does this as a coping mechanism, so as to distance himself from the nightmare he is in. You can feel the heartache in certain passages of the book, but then he shifts his attention to the people who run the place.
The author managed to gather a great pile of stories and spin them into cruel jokes and anecdotes to mock the system and the people in charge. By some strange fortune, he was assigned to work in a stationary and a lot of information on how the place was governed became accessible to him. Thus, more then a half of the book exposes those persons that so blatantly committed crimes against humanity.
While reading this memoir I could not help, but to think: How did he survived? A miracle! There was a moment when Balys was laying on the ground, exhausted and an SS soldier came to shoot him. Sruoga writes how he is admiring the bright reflections of light blinding his eyes form the gun point. Then abruptly, he is awakened by the loud shout of his friend. "Professor! Are you mad! Get up now!" And he pulls him out of instant death. I can only guess that it is only for this book that he had to come back from that place, to expose the wrong doings in a literary new way. Employing the style of absurd and dark humor in order to bully the bullies. I don't think that there ever was such a grotesque and comedic depiction of those horrific events making this memoir a unique piece of art.
But after reading about the dark and shadowy alleys of soviet Vilnius in "Vilnius Poker", after experiencing the intricate mind mazes of the character who returned from a labor camp, I've decided to revisit some of the prominent works of Lithuanian literature in an attempt to capture what I felt I've lost during my school years. I thought that this was a proper moment to re-visit "Dievų miškas" (Forest of the Gods) and have another glimpse at the pain and anguish of the prisoners of concentration camp. This year I've also read Viktor Frankl's "Man's search for meaning" - a very (I would say) optimistic approach to the subject matter. One more reason to get a deeper feel of that moment in history and also consider it through a Lithuanian's point of view.
Compared with Frankl's book Balys Sruoga's retelling of his experiences makes a stark contrast. His book sobers up the reader. If while reading Frankl you would think that faced with such a nightmarish institution as death camp, you will survive without a crippled soul, think again. All noble thoughts and deeds fade away in that place. As Balys Sruoga himself states, even the fear of death becomes a trash and looses its nobleness and lyricism. There's just too much death, you become numb to it. Your brain consciously devalues the grief and all that your left with is the role that the guards of the camp have labeled you, that of a parasite.
Of course, there are some prisoners that made it. They have managed to preserve their humanity, but such individuals are singular examples, naming the author among them. Though, Balys Sruoga in his memoir uses sarcasm, irony and dark humor, he does this as a coping mechanism, so as to distance himself from the nightmare he is in. You can feel the heartache in certain passages of the book, but then he shifts his attention to the people who run the place.
The author managed to gather a great pile of stories and spin them into cruel jokes and anecdotes to mock the system and the people in charge. By some strange fortune, he was assigned to work in a stationary and a lot of information on how the place was governed became accessible to him. Thus, more then a half of the book exposes those persons that so blatantly committed crimes against humanity.
While reading this memoir I could not help, but to think: How did he survived? A miracle! There was a moment when Balys was laying on the ground, exhausted and an SS soldier came to shoot him. Sruoga writes how he is admiring the bright reflections of light blinding his eyes form the gun point. Then abruptly, he is awakened by the loud shout of his friend. "Professor! Are you mad! Get up now!" And he pulls him out of instant death. I can only guess that it is only for this book that he had to come back from that place, to expose the wrong doings in a literary new way. Employing the style of absurd and dark humor in order to bully the bullies. I don't think that there ever was such a grotesque and comedic depiction of those horrific events making this memoir a unique piece of art.
January 23, 2023
gud buk. but i thought it was about gods. . . until. . . ye fun, rel fun
November 9, 2021
Pirma mintis perskaičius: „ką žinau, čiūju patiko“. Taip, buvo daug gėrimo ir mušimosi, vėl ir vėl, iki užknisimo, bet juk tokia realybė, ne?
Taip, buvo daug vietų, kai norėjosi „oi, gal šitą puslapėlį praleidus“, „gal čia neatsitiks nieko, jei jau neskaitysiu kelių pastraipėlių“ (a�� iš paskutiniųjų viską skaičiau, prisiekiu!), bet taip pat buvo ir vietų, kur juokdavausi susirietus, nors, šiukštu, nederėjo...
O jei rimtai, mldc tas BS (inside joke'as tiems, kurie, kaip ir aš, nepraleidinėjo ;D)
Taip, buvo daug vietų, kai norėjosi „oi, gal šitą puslapėlį praleidus“, „gal čia neatsitiks nieko, jei jau neskaitysiu kelių pastraipėlių“ (a�� iš paskutiniųjų viską skaičiau, prisiekiu!), bet taip pat buvo ir vietų, kur juokdavausi susirietus, nors, šiukštu, nederėjo...
O jei rimtai, mldc tas BS (inside joke'as tiems, kurie, kaip ir aš, nepraleidinėjo ;D)
December 3, 2023
Nu toks ką žinau. Labai daug kur nesupratau kas ir kodėl vyksta, bet ir nesigilinau. Nebuvo to tokio didelio įsitraukimo. Egzamine nesiremčiau.
January 5, 2022
Pradžioje buvo sunkoka skaityti, vėliau įsivažiavau. Visai nieko. Paliko šiokią tokią tuštumą, nežinau kaip vertinti knygą. Joje tiesiog aprašyta istorija, tokia, kokia ji buvo, ką patyrė autorius.
October 1, 2022
I really don’t like Lithuanian authors but if I can recommend one book I either would talk about this one or Gintaras Grajauskas’ “Heresy” (though it’s not translated to English).
“Forest of the Gods” talks about WWII and concentration camps. It’s a memoirs, a biography of Stutthof, a dark humor tale about prisoners life while under SS supervision.
It starts as a little introduction to the place where eventually Stutthof gets built . And slowly story transitions to the the beginning of author’s experience - how SS came to his home and took him. To his own surprise he meets his friends, people of Lithuanian intellectual community, in the holding cells. And then traveling begins. They don’t know why they are being held and when they are sent off / where to. Before I tell anything else I have to say - this book is a dark humor book. Dark humor was author’s coping device with the situation and what he had to suffer through. And even if you laugh your ass off while you read it you still know perfectly well that it wasn’t funny for him in actual life. But because of dark humor sometimes it’s easy to forget that all this actually happened, that author was a prisoner in a concentration camp, that he barely survived and was only of the few lucky people who came back home.
I really won’t go into much detail about what happens in the book. Anyone who knows at least something about WWII and German concentration camps knows what happened there and how terrible it was. I just have to mention that this books is sometimes hard to read. Author mentions many people, either prisoners or SS people, and their names quite quickly doesn’t tell you anything. Just when you’re at the middle of the book you finally start to recognize some names from the introductions before. Also, only the ending can be mentioned separately. Author escaped SS just because he was on the verge of dying.
When I read this book for the first time I was only 14 years old. Back then this books was hella funny to me. I remember reading it during my literature class while everyone was studying and I cried from laughter. I also remember how terrified my classmates were with the fact that I found this book funny. Back then and even now I think that if you can’t understand how important humor’s aspect is to this book then you can’t understand this book at all. But I also have to say that reading “Forest of the Gods” again after so many years puts a different perspective on it. Back then I was a schoolgirl. Now I’m a woman who tasted History in the university. Only now and not back then I was able to understand how terrible the situation in concentration camps has been. School books don’t tell you what really happened there. People died, yes, they were forced to work until they no longer were able to walk, they were starving, always ill, etc. What textbooks doesn’t mention is cannibalism, eating raw innards of the animals, the stealing, the beating, the drinking. Well, okay I might be wrong, maybe they do tell those things now, but I can’t be for sure since I finished school many years ago.
I won’t go on and on about WWII and those poor people who died nameless. I won’t go on and on about it only because you need to experience it for yourself. Read “Forest of the Gods”.
Then you’ll see what I’m talking about. Then you’ll understand.
“Forest of the Gods” talks about WWII and concentration camps. It’s a memoirs, a biography of Stutthof, a dark humor tale about prisoners life while under SS supervision.
It starts as a little introduction to the place where eventually Stutthof gets built . And slowly story transitions to the the beginning of author’s experience - how SS came to his home and took him. To his own surprise he meets his friends, people of Lithuanian intellectual community, in the holding cells. And then traveling begins. They don’t know why they are being held and when they are sent off / where to. Before I tell anything else I have to say - this book is a dark humor book. Dark humor was author’s coping device with the situation and what he had to suffer through. And even if you laugh your ass off while you read it you still know perfectly well that it wasn’t funny for him in actual life. But because of dark humor sometimes it’s easy to forget that all this actually happened, that author was a prisoner in a concentration camp, that he barely survived and was only of the few lucky people who came back home.
I really won’t go into much detail about what happens in the book. Anyone who knows at least something about WWII and German concentration camps knows what happened there and how terrible it was. I just have to mention that this books is sometimes hard to read. Author mentions many people, either prisoners or SS people, and their names quite quickly doesn’t tell you anything. Just when you’re at the middle of the book you finally start to recognize some names from the introductions before. Also, only the ending can be mentioned separately. Author escaped SS just because he was on the verge of dying.
When I read this book for the first time I was only 14 years old. Back then this books was hella funny to me. I remember reading it during my literature class while everyone was studying and I cried from laughter. I also remember how terrified my classmates were with the fact that I found this book funny. Back then and even now I think that if you can’t understand how important humor’s aspect is to this book then you can’t understand this book at all. But I also have to say that reading “Forest of the Gods” again after so many years puts a different perspective on it. Back then I was a schoolgirl. Now I’m a woman who tasted History in the university. Only now and not back then I was able to understand how terrible the situation in concentration camps has been. School books don’t tell you what really happened there. People died, yes, they were forced to work until they no longer were able to walk, they were starving, always ill, etc. What textbooks doesn’t mention is cannibalism, eating raw innards of the animals, the stealing, the beating, the drinking. Well, okay I might be wrong, maybe they do tell those things now, but I can’t be for sure since I finished school many years ago.
I won’t go on and on about WWII and those poor people who died nameless. I won’t go on and on about it only because you need to experience it for yourself. Read “Forest of the Gods”.
Then you’ll see what I’m talking about. Then you’ll understand.
May 1, 2014
One of the best Lithuanian books. It shows the tragedy that people have gone through, how all hopes to survive were crushed and because of all the despair the author snatches the irony of the situation. A strong man is who can laugh at himself. Of course some parts of the book makes you laugh so hard you think you will go to hell for that, but all in all it's a great book.
December 11, 2011
I admit, Balys's writing style is unusual. He speaks so ironically about such things like death and hunger and just plain lack of humanity in people. Even though at times it irked me, mostly it gave spark to this book. It made it different and that's why I'm giving it four stars.
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