framing in fields of light vs. black dog of fate

Like Jennifer, I too was reminded a lot of Balakian's Black Dog of Fate while reading Fields of Light. I appreciated the concept of Hurka as a secondhand witness, much like Balakian, but to step aside from the content for a moment, I wanted to note the framing of the book. I found myself comparing the way that this novel was framed with the way Balakian's was: in Balakian's work, we were presented with a cast of characters that was fleshed out and given life before we got to see how these characters identified with the past and what it truly meant to Balakian to uncover the atrocities of the Armenian genocide. In contrast, Hurka opens in media res, in a sense; we are with him on the plane to the Czech Republic, already in the middle of the story, in that it is through his immediate experiences on this trip to the Czech Republic that we are able to uncover, along with him, what happened in the past and how it affects his present experience.

I wanted to note this because I was struck by how, while differing from one another in their framing, both methods were successful and effective in bringing their stories to life. In Balakian's novel, we get to know Balakian as a character, grow up with him and his family, and finally feel the impact of his journey to Armenia while understanding what it truly means to him as a person and to his family as a people. In Hurka's novel, we are given less of that background context but, rather, tidbits are revealed to us as we journey with him through the present-day Czech Republic. I enjoyed how the chapters alternated between Hurka's trip, and the past memories of his father's experiences. I found myself, like Hurka, feeling the weight of so much oppression and atrocity as we covered the same grounds where, fifty years earlier, his father had fought and suffered. I felt, with Hurka, Barbora's sadness as she walked outside of the prison praying for Josef, while Mira and Hurka visited the grounds on a peaceful, quiet day. I marveled at the freedom of Prague's youth and appreciated that the Prague Hurka visited was not the same Prague his father had left so many years before, and just what that meant.

Hurka writes, " .... there was a newer, more positive attitude between people that Mira told me she had not seen for many years; citizens were not afraid to speak and be kind. During the Communist days, she said, these human sentiments and the collusion of humanity that they suggested were ultimately dangerous elements to the State, and they could land you in jail. The feeling I had, not only in these back-streets but also in the tourist areas of Prague, was akin to moving within the body of a giant who has carefully measured his breathing for too long, and now at least breathes freely and without danger or restriction." (p.110.)