First published in Yugoslavia in 1970, set amidst 1968 unrest, Houses is narrated by Arsenie Negovan, an old-money real estate baron who hasn’t left his apartment in 27 years and has no sense of how his country has changed in this time. Think of him as a Serbian Rip Van Winkle, who “wakes up” when he finally steps outside to see the state of his beloved properties, which he treats like lovers kept all over Belgrade. I picked up this book looking for an under-heralded great read, not for contemporary relevance, and I got both. To hear Negovan’s high-minded speeches, both charming and contemptible, about the moral satisfaction of owning things, and to hear the conflicted reactions of the crowds he regales, is to catch echoes of our current moment in an extraordinarily wry book
