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Before he was a writer, before the exile, the communist prison, the pages soaked in history and irony—Borislav Pekic was a boy at a piano, playing etudes for his mother while secretly reading Dostoevsky hidden among the sheet music. His fingers moved on instinct. His mind wandered freely. This moment—part mischief, part genius—contains everything: the refusal to be confined by appearances, the quiet rebellion against dull routine, and the lifelong compulsion to let ideas breathe.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 9. avgust 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 9. avgust 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 9. avgust 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 9. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 8. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 6. avgust 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 6. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 5. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 4. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 3. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 2. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 1. avgust 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 1. avgust 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 27. juli 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 27. juli 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 27. juli 1955. (nastavak)
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 27. juli 1955.
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Dnevnik Borislava Pekića 26. juli 1955.
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