Greetings, everyone,
My name is Hektor Çiftja. I am a lecturer in the Department of Literature at the University of Elbasan, but today I am here solely as an ardent reader of Pëllumb Kulla’s works.
When asked to speak at events like this, the first thought that usually comes to mind is to describe the book we are holding, discussing how it fits within the modern novel genre, or to comment on how much of the author’s biography we might find in this work. One might compare how, from one edition to the next, Tales from America transforms; it is no longer the same book, with each reprint modestly called a reprint, becoming a standalone work crafted by a different Pëllumb Kulla for a different time and audience. We could also discuss how the author’s incredible skill elevates what were once sketches or anecdotes into genuine, marvelous literature, or emphasize that his work is not merely an enjoyable prose but is indeed true Albanian literature. This quality arises from two distinctly masterful elements, familiar to all: the concepts of literariness and humanitas, as expressed by another great Albanian-American author. Finally, we could extend thanks to the author, his supportive family, the donors, the publisher, and sometimes even the real-life characters who may have provided the cultural soil to transform reality into poetry.
Instead, without taking too much of your time, I’ve decided to quote a story from the twenty-second tale in the book we have in hand, titled “A Centuries-Old Tale is Still Told.”
“There is a place, my son, a beautiful place beyond these mountains, where the air is so pure that when you breathe it, you can never get enough… Tall forests, happy birds singing unceasingly… But the people? The people, my Erzen? Harder-working folks you won’t find in any tribe in the world; it’s a place… No, not like here! Over there, there are no prisons, for they have no need of them. But now, that place has been seized by the Black Ogre with his shadow, and the ogre doesn’t let anyone in anymore. Yet heroes will emerge to slay the ogres. The place will open, and I will take you there in my arms. You’ll see that I didn’t lie to you.”
Most of you here probably know or recall how this tale continues.
“Are we almost there, Father?” Frashëri asked again once they crossed the Buna River, beyond the border.
“No, my son,” Erzeni replied. “Father used to say it was just beyond the mountains, but that place seems to be far, far away!”
Not being much of a reciter or actor myself, I don’t expect to impress you with my reading.
But for those of us who delve into literature, as every scholar affirms, great literature is a universe, a parallel reality with many functions, chiefly helping us bear and transcend every sorrow of the soul, every hardship of the body, and every turmoil of the human mind. This universe—the literary universe of Pëllumb Kulla—is, fortunately, not far away, as in A Centuries-Old Tale is Still Told, but is accessible as a literary universe, right where the wise show us: in our hands, in a pocket-sized book, in our memory, in the conversations that go, “Do you remember what Pëllumb Kulla said in Tales?”
With works like these, we can proudly tell the next generation:
“There is a universe, my son, a beautiful universe beyond this reality. You see, touch, hear, and smell it, and there, the air of the music of words and soul is so pure you can never get enough. There is a place, my son, where people, even when saddened or despairing, like the stoics of ancient Greece, find a way to smile in the crystal-clear waters of Pëllumb Kulla’s humor whenever they feel pain. It’s a place where none of the ‘tales’ are barred by closed doors. No Black Ogre’s shadow can seize that place because the brave of humor and great literature will always slay the ogres. And you, my son, don’t need anyone to take you there—not me or any literary critic—just open the door to Pëllumb Kulla’s universe, and then, like in fantasy films, Kulla’s universe will enter your mind and soul. This universe is very near, my son, very near, you need only approach it.”
Thank you.
