Traktat o ?uskaniu fasoli (Treatise on shelling beans) is the title of Wies?aw My?liwski’s latest book. It takes that most self-indulgence-prone form of a monologue (delivered to a stranger). In one passage from the essay — errr, novel — the narrator describes an incident from his childhood. Children can be so cruel some times, and this being Polish literature, this is most definitely one of those times. The children play a “game” in which the loser has to do whatever he is told by the winners. Note the cunning here (My?liwski certainly does): there is no one winner, only one loser. The consequences of losing are so awful that one child jumps through a (closed) window and another takes refuge by diving into the latrine, almost drowning in his fellows’ fecal matter in the process. Happy, happy days! The great romantic poet, Adam Mickiewicz, wrote a wistful verse once in which he described his childhood as “sielskie, anielskie” (idyllic, angelic) and it would seem Polish writers ever since have been trying to outdo each other in showing how well hard and unromantic their childhoods were in comparison with that of their national poet. Back to My?liwski:

In other words, the point of the game was not to win, as is the object of all other games.

All other games? This comes directly after discussing, among other games, two-player games, in some of which winning means not losing, i.e exactly the same as in My?liwski’s “unique” game. Only a lot more fun.