Snění pro lepší čas Dreams for Better Times - Portál české literatury

Na smutný život v dětském domově si nalezenec Cilka
ordinuje jablíčka a horu vlídnosti. Z ilustrací Denisy
Wagnerové ke knížce Středa nám chutná.
Once a found baby, Cilka uses apples and a generous
helping of kindness to counter the loneliness of a life in
achildren’s home. From Denisa Wagnerová’s illustrations
in Procházková’s book The Fine Taste of
Wednesday. Repro: archiv/archive
na popud Kristiána
Sudy začala věnovat
méně okupované
a „normalizované“
literatuře pro
děti, v níž debutovala
textem Komu
chybí kolečko (1980).
Ohlasy na něj však
vesměs motivovala
paranoidní politika,
hledající za
vším alegorie, a tak
o dalších počinech
nemohlo být nadlouho
řeči. O tři
roky později byl už
autorčin statut natolik
neúnosný, že
se s manželem –
hercem a režisérem
Ivanem Pokorným
– rozhodla emigrovat
do Rakouska,
kde zažádali o poli-
tický azyl. Po dvou letech odcestovali do Německa, nejprve
do Kostnice a pak do Brém. „Měla jsem ohromné štěstí,
protože osud to se mnou myslel dobře,“ vzpomíná.
„Přihrál mi do cesty pana Gelberga, renomovaného nakladatele,
který znal otcovy knihy a scénáře a už jako recenzentovi
se mu ho podařilo v Německu prosadit. A najednou
zjistil, že píše i jeho dcera. Tehdy jsem už měla hotový
Červenec má oslí uši, on si ho odvezl a nechal zlektorovat.“
34
by the echoes of the Stalinist era still raging in the streets,
the childhood of the Olomouc-born writer, spent under
the tower of the International Hotel in the Prague quarter
of Dejvice, can no doubt be called exceptionally harmonic.
Soon afterwards, however, the communist regime, offended
by her father’s involvement with the intellectual elite
of the memorable Prague Spring of 1968, decided to show
the middle daughter of the novelist and playwright Jan
Procházka how far its lust for vengeance can go. Being barred
from university education, the only experience made
available to her was that of a cleaner. As a result,
Procházková’s first attempts at drama were sporadic, and
the author took the advice of Kristián Suda to focus on the
less occupied and “normalised” literature for children, in
which she debuted with the text Who’s Got aLoose Screw?
(1980). However, the reactions to the novel were to a large
extent motivated by politically paranoid search for seemingly
omnipresent allegories, her writing career being
stifled for many years to come. Three years later her situation
became unsustainable, and she and her husband – actor
and director Ivan Pokorný – decided to emigrate to Austria
and apply for asylum. After another two years they moved
to Germany, first to Constance and later Bremen. “I was incredibly
lucky. Fate had looked kindly upon me,” she recalls,
“and crossed my path with that of Mr Gelberg, a renowned
publisher, who knew my father’s books and
scripts, and managed to press him through in Germany
when just a reviewer. And suddenly he discovered, that his
daughter is a writer too. Back then I had already finished
Dog-eared July, and he took it and had it read.”
The start of Procházková’s German career was, in many
respects, singular: her „therapeutic“ childhood reminiscences
from Prague’s Lesser Quarter below the Castle