I enjoy Hemon, but after some years since reading this one, I don't recall enough to discuss it. ( )

Aleksander Hemon's name has popped up a few times in the last couple weeks and given my foray into short story collections recently I figured I'd give him a try. The Question of Bruno is a beautiful and moving collection of stories dealing with childhood, the immigration experience and the struggle of being in another country while your home is ripped apart by war. "A Coin" a correspondence between Aida, a woman stuck in Sarajevo, and a man living in Chicago and that gutted me -- it's brutal -- Aida describes the work of the patient snipers in detail while in America the man withers away, losing all sense of self, and dissolves behind his camera. "The Sorge Spy Ring" is the only story in this collection, a story mostly told in footnotes, that doesn't seem to fit given it's style and structure and is what kept me from giving the whole thing five stars. Hemon or bust! ( )

What a fine collection of fictions. Though Hemon’s abound in these tales and though most tales are presented in prosaic style like journalism, the echoes and allusions highlight the craft involved in their imagining. I was solidly impressed with every story, but particular mention should be made of “The Sorge Spy Ring,” “The Life and Work of Alphonse Kauders,” and “Blind Jozef Pronek & Dead Souls.” Any of these would be enough to mark Hemon as a significant writer. Whether he is writing in a Sebaldian style, as in “The Sorge Spy Ring,” or in a Nabokovian mode, as in the, at times, Pnin-like “Blind Jozef Pronek & Dead Souls,” Hemon writes with great assurance, humour, and pathos.

Heartily recommended. ( )

The one thing I have most appreciated about Hemon’s writing is his uncanny ability to somehow twist English words and phrases into a way which shows he doesn’t quite grasp English the way a native speak would, yet has a mastery of the language that far exceeds my own. For those who are not familiar with Hemon’s story, let me quickly say that Hemon had only a basic understanding of English when war stranded him in the United States at the age of 27. Within eight years, Hemon had written his first book in English, The Question of Bruno, a collection of short stories. This collection shows a fluency that my own writing lacks. Hemon’s writing is breathtaking.

Being a collection of Hemon’s earliest writings in English, I expected The Question of Bruno to parade some of Hemon’s most absurdly enjoyable turns of phrase. There is a cadence in what I’ve read of Hemon that is beautiful and unusual, a device that perhaps only a native-native speaker could use so effectively. Yet, I missed that in this collection. Perhaps I’m way too lazy or I’ve grown too familiar with Hemon’s style of writing and didn’t notice, or maybe early editors were quick to point out the “flaws” of Hemon’s English (“You can’t do that!”) Whatever the reason, The Question of Bruno didn’t resonate the same way with me. That’s not to say the collection isn’t stellar and certainly well-written—it is—but it lacks a certain musicality that I greatly anticipated.

Of the Hemon I’ve read so far, I will say each book has it stellar moments and traits, but that none have quite come together for a book that knocks me off my feet. The thing is, however, I believe Hemon has the ability to do it. Either I have yet to read that book, or he hasn’t written it quite yet. It’s in there though. And one day, hopefully soon, Hemon’s going to whip out an award winner that will catch the attention of the people. ( )

I really like Aleksandar Hemon but I wish he would focus...in some ways, I think his style lends itself better to short stories, though. Still, these are all over the place. The bulk of the collection is all about Sorge the Spy Ring, which could have been much more interesting had it not dragged with it's incredibly long footnotes. There's alot about Sorge and the protagonist's father...could he be a spy? Is it possible? Complete with old pictures, it comes off half historical and half sheer rumination.


I found "The Accordion" much more appealing and effective. Based on an story told to him by his great grandfather of an accordion and embellished with imagination, Aleksander creates a wholly memorable scene where the Archduke Ferdinand sees the accordion player close to the time of his death.


Hemon also looks into his lineage a bit in certain stories, like "Exchange of Pleasant Words"but perhaps what I liked hearing best was just the accounts of Jozef Pronek (I am sure this must be autobiographical to some extent) trying to make it as an immigrant in Chicago. ( )