Beyond the River Vistula
€23.99
About this Book
Beginning in 1878 and spanning more than a century, "Beyond the River Vistula" follows five generations of the Wojciech family, whose farm lies on the eastern bank of Poland's greatest river. From the final years of partition through independence, war, communist rule, and finally to the dawn of a new democratic era, the family's fortunes rise and fall with the tides of Polish history.
Through the eyes of the Wojciech family—from the visionary patriarch Kazimierz to his great-great-granddaughter Anna, a Solidarity activist—readers witness the pivotal events that shaped modern Poland: the peasant uprisings, both World Wars, the Holocaust, the imposition of communist rule, the strikes at the Gdańsk shipyard, and the eventual fall of the Iron Curtain.
Epic in scope yet intimate in its portrayal of individual lives, Nowicki's saga has drawn comparisons to works like "The Thorn Birds" and "One Hundred Years of Solitude" for its sweeping historical canvas and rich family dynamics. It offers English-language readers unprecedented insight into Poland's complex journey through the 20th century and the resilient spirit of its people.
Praise & Recognition
- Winner of the Nike Literary Award, Poland's most prestigious literary prize
- "A landmark in contemporary Polish literature" — The Guardian
- Longlisted for the International Booker Prize
As someone of Polish descent who has always wanted to better understand my family's history, this book was a revelation. Nowicki has accomplished something remarkable—making the complex and often tragic history of Poland accessible through the experiences of one family. The characters are flawed and fully human, making difficult choices in impossible situations. I particularly appreciated how the novel avoids simplistic moral judgments about collaboration and resistance during the occupation years. This is historical fiction of the highest order.
There's no denying Nowicki's ambition or the impressive research that went into this saga. However, I found the sheer number of characters and historical events sometimes overwhelming. Just as I became invested in one generation's story, the narrative would move forward in time. The writing is beautiful and there are many powerful scenes, but I think the book might have benefited from a narrower focus. That said, it offers valuable insights into Polish history that are rarely available to English readers.
Comparisons to "One Hundred Years of Solitude" are apt—like García Márquez, Nowicki uses one family as a lens through which to view a nation's history, complete with its myths, tragedies, and moments of transcendence. The translation is excellent, preserving what feels like a distinctly Polish literary voice while remaining accessible to English readers. What impressed me most was how Nowicki balances the political and the personal. Major historical events are never mere backdrop but are shown through their impact on ordinary lives. This is a novel I'll be thinking about for a long time.
From the Prologue
The Vistula has many moods. In spring, swollen with melted snow from the Carpathians, it rages, sometimes breaking its banks to claim the fertile soil that draws farmers to its edges despite the danger. In summer, it flows lazy and indulgent, inviting swimmers and fishermen to test its waters. In autumn, it reflects the fiery colors of the changing forest, and in winter, if the cold is fierce enough, it freezes solid enough for brave souls to cross on foot, though the old people always warn against such foolishness.
Kazimierz Wojciech knew all the river's moods. Born in a village on its eastern bank in 1857, he had spent his childhood watching the water, learning its rhythms, understanding that the Vistula was not just a feature of the landscape but a living presence that shaped the lives of all who dwelled near it. The river gave and the river took away.
On a bright September morning in 1878, Kazimierz stood on the small plot of land he had just purchased with money saved from years of work on the estate of Count Czartoryski. At twenty-one, he was younger than most men when they acquired their first land, but Kazimierz had always been different—more serious, more determined, with a vision that extended beyond the next harvest.
"It's good land," said the old farmer who had sold it to him, perhaps regretting his decision now that the money was spent. "My father worked it, and his father before him."
"Why sell it, then?" Kazimierz asked, kneeling to take a handful of the dark soil, rich with the silt deposited by countless spring floods.
The old man shrugged. "My sons went to Warsaw. One works in a factory now, the other joined the army. They say there's no future in farming, not with the big estates swallowing everything. They say the old ways are dying."
Kazimierz let the soil filter through his fingers. "Some things don't die," he said quietly. "They just wait for the right hands."
He didn't share his real vision—not with this old man who wouldn't understand, not with anyone yet. But as he stood looking out over the field that sloped gently down to the riverbank, Kazimierz could already see what others couldn't: a proper farm with a sturdy brick house instead of the wooden shack that currently stood there, fields of wheat and rye, orchards of apple and plum trees, and someday, children and grandchildren to inherit it all.
What he couldn't see was how the river that had shaped his family's destiny would also carry them through the tides of history about to sweep across Poland—partition, independence, war, occupation, and revolution. He couldn't know that the choices he would make on this small plot of land would echo through generations of Wojciechs yet unborn, binding them to this place beyond the River Vistula.
