To the Lake: A Balkan Journey of War and Peace by Kapka Kassabova

To the Lake: A Balkan Journey of War and Peace Reviews

• 
  Sve

  "За някои неща не говориш, а само се тревожиш".
  Тежка книга, коята прехвърлих между двете години. Натежала от носталгията на вечно скитащия, от неизказаната мъка на хора, ненужно разделяни от държавни граници, от скръбта по загиналите в безмислени войни и репресии близки.
  Родените на Балканите носим в себе си тъмно предчувствие за нещастие, фатализъм, който ни пречи да се зарадваме на хубавото, защото 'знаем', че 'много хубаво не е на хубаво'.
  Капка Касабова тръгва да търси корена на тази фантомна болка в своята семейна история край Охридското езеро. И намира, че болката на хората от Балканския полуостров, независимо от това и какъв диалект говорят и дали се наричат македонци, албанци, българи или гърци, е една.
  Болката от изкуственото разделение, от измислените вражди, от ненужните граници. Болка, която може да бъде облекчена само от Езерото, което омекотява и обезсилва всички вражди.
  "Към езерото", както и "Граница" е пътепис-легенда-историческа справка-автобиографичен разказ, в която всеки би могъл да открие нещо за себе си.
• 
  Annikky

  Let me start with two caveats. First, I believe this book is a completely different experience for readers who live in the region or know it well. I cannot adequately judge whether the numerous sensitivities and conflicts have been handled fairly, although Kassabova always seems extremely evenhanded to me. The other caveat is that if I could pick only one of her books, I’d go for Border (which I adored). It has a clearer focus and the analysis is deeper; I think it was much longer in the making than To the Lake, which seems a bit rushed, less fully digested and settled in comparison. That said, it’s still a very good book and all the strengths of Border are evident here as well. I really like Kassabova’s voice, some poets who are well suited to prose write like this: with lyricism and great rhythm, but without wasting words. She is observant, has empathy and a deep curiosity about the world that I appreciate. I also like that she doesn’t try to fit one genre, much of the power of her books comes from how she uses whatever tool seems best, blends the personal and the general, history with travel writing, literature with nature, treating all subject matters with equal respect. The juxtapositions work really well, she can go from the gorgeous cherry orchards to the horrors of the Hoxha regime in a heartbeat. This style is a clever way to capture things that can never be captured fully, in a linear and orderly fashion anyway. Sometimes it can get too much, it can be difficult to keep track of all the people and the places (and the wars) and you are no longer sure what point the book is making exactly. But of course it doesn’t have to have one, ultimate, unambiguous message to everyone and that’s completely fine with me.
• 
  Calzean

  The Republic of North Macedonia. Not one of the well known Balkan countries and certainly not well known to me at all.
  The author uses her family links to the area with an impressive knowledge of history and an empathetic manner to get people to talk. Its is an impressive effort as this is one complex area of religions, cultures, family ties and fluid borders and frequent changes in allegiances.
• 
  Desislava Mihaylova

  "Към езерото" е моята първа среща с творчеството на Капка Касабова. Също като самите Балкани, романът е синтез от пътепис, мемоари, дневник и исторически бележки, чиито пътища постоянно се преплитат. Центърът е езерото. Хората, спомените, действията са частици, които се въртят около него, притеглени от енигматичната му сила.
  Книгата е чудесна и много интересна, а стилът на Касабова е фин и деликатен. Научих много факти, които не знаех, потопих се в интересни семейни истории и преоткрих ширини, които не ми бяха така добре познати. Втората част на романа за мен беше по-тежка. Именно в нея е разказана една от любимите ми истории за лодка, семейство и спасение под прикритието на нощта.
  За съжаление, това не е моята книга. Мога да оценя достойнствата й, но въпреки това не мога да кажа, че ми хареса. Причината е в песимизма и трагизма който лъха от страниците. Съзнавам, че това е търсен ефект, който доказва мъката на една изстрадала област и народите свързани с нея, но въпреки това не мога да приема липсата на светлина. Търсех искрите до самия край, но те така и не проблеснаха. Останах с усещането, че Касабова е изляла мъката си и се е освободила от тежък емоционален товар. В тази земя, където мъжете отсъстват, жените са фурии, а децата носят поколенческото бреме на неудовлетвореност и болка, това, което реално липсва е надеждата. Макар в увода да е пояснено, че повествованието ще се придържа до възможно най-голяма обективност, реално това не е така. Оказва се, че не може да избягаш от въпроса - "Ти чия си?"
  "Към езерото" е интересна разказ, изпълнен с любопитни факти за миналото и настоящето на хората около Охридското и Преспанското езеро. Това, което природата е свързала през вековете, сега е разпокъсано между три държавни граници и между още повече вътрешни исторически прегради. Капка Касабова го е описала красиво, но дистанцирано, без да се припознае докрай с хаотичността и водовъртежа на балканската реалност.
• 
  Roxani

  Kapka Kassabova writes with such compassion about the Balkans—compassion for histories intimate and grand, for the hurt children we used to be, for place and geography. Being from the region she writes about, I found that this book made me feel seen and known, gasping with relief and recognition as I made my way through it. Between this gem of a book and Border, she is by far one of my favorite writers working today.
• 
  Kirsty

  September 2023 update: I am rereading this before my upcoming trip to Lake Ohrid!
  
  Review from September 2021:
  Before the virus completely took over 2020, and made it almost impossible to travel without a two-week quarantine, my boyfriend and I had planned a trip to North Macedonia. We were intending to end our holiday with a wild swim at Lake Ohrid, somewhere we have wanted to visit for years. We are hoping that we will be able to embark on this trip at some point during 2021, but for now, I reached for the closest thing I could find - Kapka Kassabova's non-fiction title To the Lake: A Balkan Journey of War and Peace.
  
  The Balkans is an area which I have travelled in relatively extensively already, but I find it fascinating to see regions which I love - as well as those which I have yet to visit - through the eyes of someone who is somehow connected to the physical place. Kassabova's maternal grandmother grew up in the town of Ohrid, beside the lake, which lies 'within the mountainous borderlands of North Macedonia, Albania, and Greece'. Lake Ohrid, and also Lake Prespa, which can be found relatively nearby, are located in 'one of Eurasia's most historically diverse areas', and are the two oldest lakes in Europe. Ohrid and Prespa are joined by an underground river, and span these aforementioned borders.
  
  'By exploring on water and land the stories of poets, fishermen, and caretakers, misfits, rulers, and inheritors of war and exile,' declares the blurb, 'Kassabova uncovers the human history shaped by the lakes.' Alongside her personal journey to reach her family's roots, the author makes 'a deeper enquiry into how geography and politics imprint themselves upon families and nations.'
  
  For Kassabova, this region, which has housed 'generations of my predecessors... is a realm of high altitudes and mesmeric depths, eagles and vineyards, orchards and old civilisations, a land tattooed with untold histories.' The focus of To the Lake, as outlined in the introduction, is as follows: 'Geography shapes history - we generally accept this as a fact. But we don't often explore how families digest big historo-geographies, how these sculpt our inner landscape, and how we as individuals continue to influence the course of history in invisible but significant ways - because the local is inseparable from the global. I went to the Lakes to seek an understanding of such forces.'
  
  The first chapter of To the Lake opens with Kassabova's recollections of her maternal grandmother's death. Her descriptions of her grandmother, Anastassia, which she goes on to reveal piece by piece, are so vibrant: 'Surrounded by the mediocrity, conformity and mendacity that a totalitarian system thrives on, Anastassia lived with zest, speaking her mind in a society where half the population didn't have a mind and the other half were careful to keep it to themselves.' Her descriptions of her family particularly really stand out; she describes her mother thus, for example: 'She always felt to me precariously attuned to life, as if born rootless, as if needing an external force to earth her.'
  
  Some of Kassabova's writing is undoubtedly beautiful - for instance, when she writes 'Ohrid made you feel the weight of time, even on a peaceful evening like this, with only the screech of cicadas and the shuffle of old women in slippers' - but there are some quite abrupt sentences and sections to be found within To the Lake. It does not feel entirely consistent at times, and Kassabova does have a tendency to jump from quite an involved history of the area to a conversation with someone who lives there, and often back again, without any delineation. This added a disjointed feel to the whole. However, the value and interest of the information which she presents was thankfully too strong for this to put me off as a reader.
  
  To the Lake is certainly thorough; it was not a book which I felt able to read from cover to cover in one go, as it is so intricate - both in terms of the history and geography of the region, and of Kassabova's own family. There is a great deal within the book which explores national divides throughout the lake region, as well as the religions which are practiced. Kassabova seems to focus far more upon the differences of the people whom she meets, than their similarities. There are some brief nods to fascinating Slavic folktales along the way, which I wish had been elaborated upon. Regardless, To the Lake is an important book, and an ultimately satisfying one, which I would highly recommend.
• 
  Paul

  There are parts of Europe that rarely get mentioned, these out of the way places often have turbulent and complicated pasts. One of these places is mountainous borderlands of North Macedonia, Albania, and Greece. The border of the three countries passes through the two ancient lakes formed by tectonic activity and are joined by underground rivers, Ohrid and Prespa.
  
  It is a place that is deeply rooted deeply in Kapka Kassabova’s heart too, her maternal grandmother was a huge influence on her and she came from the region. It was somewhere where she wants to go to and spend time there, but it hadn’t been appropriate until now. It was a region that had known conflict for years, but there had been peace for a little while now and there was no time like the present.
  
  Amongst all the history here though and there has been an awful lot of history; wars and constantly changing borders and regimes, it is a place scarred deeply by conflict. It is now coming to terms with peace, and she is here for the human stories and to see if there are any traces of her family left. Landing at the airport in Albania, she immediately feels at home, the men who are hoping for work all look like her cousins. They pass through a medieval gate into the town on Ohrid on the way to the villa she was staying at. The owners looked familiar and it didn’t take long to realise that there was a family link.
  
  Form this initial meeting she heads off around the region to meet and talk with the people of the region, from the fishermen, mothers, aunts, poets and border guards. She learns about how and when Sufism appeared in the region, speaks the those that got across the Iron Curtain and visits monasteries high in the mountains and walks in 2000-year-old tombs that were untouched until recently. But all of the trip out centre on these amazing lakes
  
  As she travels between town and villages and crossing the lakes she keeps bumping into people that look familiar. Quite often after a short conversation with them, she invariably finds out that they are related in some way or another. And it is that sort of thing that sums this book up, it is a little-understood area of the world and through her wonderful prose, Kassabova untangles the people from the politics. Slowly the rifts are being healed, even when she is there it is finally agreed with Greece that Macedonia can formally be called North Macedonia. With all these things though, it is a process that has taken far too long, but it does show that even after years of conflict they still have so much more in common than the differences between them.
• 
  Стефани Kalcheva

  В книгата се разказва за езерата на Охрид и Преспа, "вложени като диаманти в планините на Западна Македония и Източна Албания", те са най-старите в Европа, а Охридското е възможно да е второто по възраст в света (допуска се, че е на три милиона години...). Неговата притегателна сила създава особен мистицизъм. Никой не го напуска завинаги, дори да е избягал чак в Австралия. След прочита на книгата си представям дервишките манастири, Егнациевият път, мистичния суфизъм, смесването на етноси и култури, пищната природна красота, всичко се слива в една голяма вълна, която векове наред по различни причини се опитваме да разделим на капки. Има си дори термин, който за пръв път е използван през 1918 г. в New York Times - "да балканизираш", което буквално означава да разделяш области или региони на враждебни една на друга групи. Не че повечето неща не съм ги знаела, но е съвсем друго, когато учиш не само исторически и с факти, а с човешки истории. Не искам да разказвам нито една от книгата, защото нито ще успея да го направя достатъчно добре, нито мога да избера една единствена. Подобно на забележителния труд на Мария Степанова, и тук останах с усещането, че познавам всички хора, че съм тяхна, не чужда.
• 
  Sportyrod

  North Macedonia, you owe me. If I had a sigh-ometer, it would have run out of power very quickly. This has been one of the hardest around the world challenge destinations yet. The place is full of human suffering. It felt like the author interviewed every person she came across and said “tell me about your worst experience”. So much chronic grief.
  
  I was into it for the first few chapters as it was densely packed with information and experience but it wore off pretty quickly. Here is one snippet:
  
  “When I sat under my cherry tree at night, sensing the vast presence of the lake, I almost expected to see the outlines of my own mind projected on those walls, as in some opera arena of the collective unconscious where everything is laid bare.”
  
  A bit too flowery? Can you tell the author is a poet.
  
  Another thing was the structure and lack of engagement. The premise is that the author returns to her ancestral land. She starts with the experiences of her relatives or people that knew her relatives, but it soon gets formulaeic. It was like, I caught a boat across the lake. A poet once crossed this lake. The captain told me his life story. They escaped via the lake. Centuries ago someone else escaped across the lake. But ahhhh, the lake, it binds you.
  
  As much as I want to give this book one star, the book is so cram packed with local information. The sources of information were thesis-worthy and deserving of credit. Having said that, it felt more non-fiction than a travelogue or semi-memoir. The description of every location was done very well too. The underwater river systems and formations of the lakes were pretty cool. Despite my opinion, I think this book would appeal to many readers.
• 
  Zhivka Vasileva

  Капка Касабова, „Към езерото“, Жанет45/20
  Капка Касабова умее да разказва. Казвам го съвсем отговорно, защото съм я гледала и слушала няколко пъти, единият от които на живо при представянето на предишната и книга „Граница“ в Бургас. Но тя умее и да слуша и да попива безбройните истории на хората и местата, които среща при непрекъснатите си пътувания:“…интересно ми е как хората разказват себе си…и онова, което не казват, разказвайки себе си…и разказваческата способност на мястото, комбинирана с човешкия изказ“. Книгата и „Към езерото“ не е точно роман, тя е пътепис или „художествена документалистика“, както я определят в Обединеното кралство и е по-вълнуваща от другите и пътеписи, защото авторката си е поставила нелеката задача да тръгне по следите, оставени от рода и по майчина линия, а винаги е по-трудно да предадеш обективно събития и характери, където собствената ти кръв е замесена. А заглавието е леко подвеждащо, защото в книгата не става въпрос само за едно езеро, Охридското, а и за Преспанското и най-вече за живота на хората около тези езера, едното разделяно между две, другото между три държави, сякаш можеш да разделиш водата! Подзаглавието в английския вариант на книгата е „A Balkan Journey of War and Peace“, но аз бих казала, че и то е подвеждащо, защото пренебрегва /или нарочно премълчава / изключително личната обвързаност на авторката с местата и събитията и дълго таеното и колебание дали и кога да предприеме това пътуване: „За да се завърнеш там, където са живели предците ти, трябва да си готов да видиш онова, което е по-лесно да отречеш“. Защото кой българин остава безучастен, когато се говори за Македония и Тракия и за това, как тези земи са исконно наши, но я да погледнем от страната на Сърбия или Албания, или Гърция. Плодородните земи около двете езера от хилядолетия са дърпани като тесто ту от една държава, ту от друга, ту от трета и четвърта за да го превърнат в удобна за тях питка, докато хората там просто искат да ги оставят да живеят. „Де да можеше политиците да ни оставят на мира!“. Капка Касабова иска да обиколи езерата от всичките им страни, да чуе всички възможни истории, които могат да и предоставят местните и тогава да си състави правилната картина: а това са истории за любов и смърт, за приятелства и предателства, за войни, особено Първата и Втората световни, ч��ито окопи още личат по снагата на околните планини и уж мирен живот, а всъщност диктатури на Тито, Енвер Ходжа и гръцката хунта, за разделение на людете, което те не биха направили по своя воля, защото са езерни хора, хора изпълнени с огромна любов към земята си и към водата, но принудени да се подчиняват на закони, създавани извън тях, преименувани по няколко пъти, смятани за предатели и от двете страни на менящата се граница, сякаш те самите са я поставяли. Покъртителен е разказът на Танас Спасе, син на македонци от двете страни на границата / Югославия, Албания / за „Спач“, най-ужасния от всичките петдесет затвора на Енвер Ходжа, където хората за прочитане на непозволена книга или за разказване на виц били осъждани на хиляда и седемстотин години лишаване от свобода!!! А той е изпратен да служи „като регистриран враг на народа“ и без да носи оръжие в Саранда, малък полуостров на южния бряг на Албания, недалеч от сухопътната граница с Гърция, където войничетата изпълняват лозунга: “Да направим планините като нива!“. „Една година сякохме дърва. Хубави, стари гори отидоха за нищо. После от дърветата правехме стъпала, за да се качва планината. Вертикални. Най-дългата стълба на света. А на прочистените от дърветата склонове засаждахме цитрусови дръвчета. Да превърнем планината в цитрусова горичка. Ама не се получи. Последното го каза някак извинително, сякаш младите войници били виновни, че каменистата планина не става за портокалова горичка…“.
  Това да ви звучи познато…
  Но истината е, че авторката не политизира, не прави изводи, тя просто разказва историите, защото целта и е тези истории да и докажат доколко тя принадлежи към езерните и планински хора и може ли като тях да се променя, но да си остава същата: „Ако от Скопие свърнеш на изток към България, високите върхове на Осоговска планина са поредната изненада; от високопланинския път разпилените тук-там селца са като хвърлени в бездната. Планинските хребети, сякаш гърбове на праисторически зверове, поели ледниковия си път нанякъде, са едно изхабено синьо, което попива в костите ти като време, балканско-синьо време.“ А охридското: „Ти чия си?“ и милото обръщение на майстора на седефени табакери Реджеп от Струга: „Почитувана моя, идвате с шейсет години закъснение“, отправени към потомката на Димче Карата и още хиляди видими и невидими знаци доказват, че тя принадлежи. Нещо повече, може да и се струва, че „планините изяждат времето, докато езерото го събира“, но тя е и ще бъде една от редицата жени, които правят това време значимо, които го привързват към живота, докато мъжете се подчиняват на кануна, емигрират, бунтуват се, оставят ги да се справят сами и тези жени се научават да застават в центъра на този живот, за да ги има поколенията. „Ключът е в жените. Когато жените мълчат, времето мълчи.“ Или с учудване да осъзнае, в домашния етнографски музей на бившия танцьор от Подмочани край Преспа, че всъщност се стреми да стигне до първоизточника на мрака и на любовта: „Няма ли друга реколта в тази земя освен мрак? На Балканите цял живот носим черно, особено жените.“
  Прекрасните природни картини, които се редуват с историите или са вътре в историите, интересните исторически факти, на края на книгата е изброена почти четири листа библиография, препратките към разказаното от именити пътешественици от Евлия Челеби до Едуард Лиър, чудесно структурираната последователност на действието, личната връзка на авторката с отделни герои и събития, поетичният изказ, всичко това прави книгата желана за четене и препрочитане. Не мога да не цитирам един последен пасаж от книгата, този за преживяното и прошката: „Всичко е едно. Нека не го забравяме, нека не позволяваме на никого и нищо да ни разделя с граници. Трагедията ни е именно в това враждебно разпокъсване. Започва като умствена нагласа и се превръща в съдба. Това е трагедията на нашето семейство от народи, които тъпчат този божествен полуостров, тази прелестно разстлана Земя, тъпчат като армия от ослепени войници отпреди хиляда години, търсещи покой. Нека намерят. Простете им, простете ми, простете ни и нека си простим. Страхът ни прави луди и скърбящи.
  А изворът си е тук през цялото време. Всички възможности са събрани в едно, все още… Влез смело…и се освободи от товара, който мъкнеш векове наред, превърни се в каквото и да е. В пъстърва, в змиорка, в някого от предците ти, все още дете, едно с водата и все още неготово да на��рави необходимото, за да се стигне до твоето раждане, до човека, който си мислиш, че си, въпреки че всъщност си вода – извор, който се обновява всяка секунда, устремен в буен екстаз към езерото.“
  
  Ж.И.
• 
  Grâce

  What Teresa said.
  
  This book certainly sparked an interest in the Balkan region and was sprinkled with many beautiful bits of wisdom. But there was not nearly enough context or continuous threads to make it fully understandable and therefore enjoyable.
  
  Down the road, I might be inclined to read one of the author's earlier works, like
  Border: A Journey to the Edge of Europe.
• 
  Seamus

  ““But the only thing that is forever are the mountains. The mountains and relationships.”
• 
  Гергана

  Катарзисна книга. Заземяваща книга. Лекарство за неспокойни души. Имам желание да я препоръчвам на всички.
  По някое време се сетих, да си изваждам любими цитати:
  "Фреската на "Света Петка" приличаше поразително на баба ми, когато била на около четиридесет. На възрастта, на която съм аз сега - силно десетилетие, когато започваш най-сетне да притежаваш лицето си, а и живота си. Оттук насетне това си ти."
  "Никой тук не е толкова млад, че да не доживее да види руините на младостта си".
  "– От Маврово е. В Маврово дрехите на жените показвали в какъв етап от живота са.
  Ами да. Ако си жена, всеки по всяко време трябва да знае на какъв сексуален, семеен и репродуктивен етап от живота си се намираш!"
  "Дъщеря му никога няма да се върне от Америка. Тя не говорела *наше*, само гръцки, а нейното дете в Америка не говорело и гръцки, само английски. Разбирах я: тя просто иска всичко това да престане."
  "Изведнъж се сетих за абзац от Едит Дърам, описващ човек от Охрид: "като всеки балкански християнин той е наследил склонността винаги да очаква най-лошото"."
  Понеже се сетих към края, планирам на второто четене да вадя пак. Със сигурност ще я чета още веднъж съвсем скоро и искам да обиколя тези места. Става ли ясно колко съм запленена от "Към езерото"? ("Граница" вече е купена и изчаква реда си.)
  Въпросът, който не ми дава мира е, планира ли се македонски превод?
  
• 
  Margaret

  I'm due to visit the exact area covered by this book in a few months' time: my very first time in this part of the world. This book has done a lot to whet my appetite, give me some grounding in the complex history and culture of the area, and make me understand how very much there is to find out. This is no simple time line, involving a single ethnic strand. This area has for many many centuries been a stopover for people crossing to and from Europe in every possible direction: an area to conquer and subvert: and area to impose ideas from major world religions upon (though till recently, these religious groups largely lived together in harmony. More recently, attempts were made, specifically by Communist rule, to quash ancient cultures.
  
  How to explain all this? Kassabova doesn't attempt a text book. Instead, she journeys round the region, looking up old family friends, making new connections, and generally getting to know a wide range of people. And she tells their stories, and those of their families. In this way she illuminates the history of the area, and more specifically shows the impact of political, religious and economic change on the lives of those involved. This is a story of people who call themselves Albanians, Macedonians, and Greeks. It's also the story of their landscapes and the towns and communities in which they live. It's fascinating.
• 
  Boyka

  С времето като че ли всички започваме да се обръщаме назад - с пръсти, които търсят да обхванат, да не пропуснат памет през пролуките, да предадат нататък..
  
  "Към езерото" можеше да е задълбочено журналистическо изследване, каквито книги има и не лоши - но е много повече и в това е нейната хубост. Тежестта й идва поравно от личната история и ангажимент на Капка Касабова, и от това, че я четем като участващ в балканските събития герой.
  
  Разказът пречиства, слива минало и бъдеще, и призовава за прошка помежду ни - ос��бено тук, където всичко изглежда по-трудно и по-сложно. А за да се освободим, първо трябва да разберем - всеки при своето езеро.
  
  5/5
• 
  Teresa Kennedy

  There were some really beautiful lines and passages in this book and lots of food for thought about a region I was completely unfamiliar with before. However, the number of characters, unfamiliar words, unfamiliar places, and centuries of history packed into this book often left me feeling more confused and lost than engaged.
• 
  Crazytourists_books

  (2.5 stars, so 3, because it is better than just 2)
  *
  When I started this book, I thought I would read something more personal, like a family saga. And it was like that at first, but then drifted to stories of other people in the area and then drifted even more to stories from a different lake. And the stories, as the lakes, might be connected but put a distance between the reader and the personal.
  I did enjoy those stories, though, and I did connect with them, because, I am greek. I come from the balkans, I know the struggles and the history, and the conflicts, and my family has experienced (some of) the things described. And that's when the frustration started creeping in. In her introduction, the author says that she tried to put her bias aside. The funny thing with bias is that it's hard to put aside. I know because I was also trying to forget mine. And there were things that were colored in one way, completely disregarding the other side. I won't get into details, I will name just a couple of examples. The author seems that she doesn't understand Greece's objection towards Northern Macedonia to call their country Macedonia. There is no effort to explain it, I think she even finds it irrational. Yet whenever she refers to the greek part of the geographical region of Macedonia, she calls it Aegean Macedonia. So the country is called Macedonia (North Macedonia, the mutually accepted name, comes into the narrative at the end of the book), the greek region, is called Aegean Macedonia, and she pretends that she can't see a problem with that. Another issue I had was with the stories from her trip to Big Prespa, the lake that is divided between Albania, North Macedonia, and Greece. In the albanian and north macedonian part, everything is fine. But in the greek part, she travels to multiple villages, she goes all the way to Florina and Kastoria and she can't find one, just one person that identifies as greek. Seriously?
  The personal stories of the people she met, were very touching as I said, heartbreaking, touching the collective trauma of all the people that live in the Balkans, but were a bit too much, too repetitive, too similar.
  And the last chapter was way too spiritual for my liking.
  I did like and dislike the book at the same time, and I sure won't forget it easily!
• 
  Marie

  Wonderfully written, but I wish we just had some clearer chronological références. I got a little Lost in the countries' timelines.
• 
  Preethi

  What a ride reading this book was!
  I picked it up coz I was interested in the subject matter of a book set on the lakes, but I stuck on for the detailed history lessons Kassabova gave while taking me through the lives of everyday people around Macedonia and Albania.
  The book did not start well for me, with the author delving into her family history and getting into details of her grandmother Anastasia and her expectations from her loved ones. It all felt familiar with the Indian family setup, and I didn't get the point of going into details of her life or how she shaped her progeny. However, I am glad I hung around, coz the book picked up, and how, after that!
  
  Only after I read this book did I realize how much I did not know about the world. I knew of Albania and Kanun, thanks to Ismail Kadare's Broken April. I only vaguely knew of Macedonia, but nothing of significance. But reading this book gave me so much insight into the people, the land, their rulers, some of their struggles, the ravages of the war on these people and their lives.
  
  My heart broke while reading the travails of these people, all of whom are similar to each other but divided because of the borders, the borders themselves made of outrageous stuff, the current struggles in these lands (the Prespa agreement in 2019 over Greece agreeing to the name of North Macedonia, whitewashing of all Cyrillic alphabet in Greece, fear to speak Macedonian in parts of Northern Greece) - all of these left my heart very heavy!
  
  All of these were new to me, and I hope to read more about these - Reading about how Albanians endured Enverism under Enver Hoxha; the continuing impact of besa, kanun, the Albanization, the biscuit-factory line of everything in Albania; how Zachariadis got away with his rule in Greece; Balkanization and the resulting Balkan wars dividing the same people into chunks of lands - these are a reality so many Balkan people live with!
  I realized how first world my problems are all (including the civil rights ones I advocate for) , and how I have to keep a bigger picture with an eye on the struggles people have for basic freedoms.
  
  Like the author closes the book, the only way to get away from this never-ending wheel of war and peace is for people to find within themselves the strength to break away... :-(
  
  Strongly recommend this book if you have a desire to know what goes on around the world. It will make you sad, but the book will make you more aware of your world.
• 
  Elena

  I'm not sure how to rate this - Beautiful writing, and a haunting tone. Though I don't come from the exact same background as Kassabova, my own family history is complicated by the tumultuous politics of Eastern Europe. Ohrid and Prespa are not my home, but seeing the author long for a past and a connection evokes those same feelings in me of the places I've come from but have yet to witness. I would recommend this to those with interest in the region as it does require some historical context, though the essays in here transcend place with universal feelings of family and culture.
• 
  Valerie

  A gorgeous book which is both informative about the history of the Macedonian peoples and an introspective, poetic reflection on the personal and familial weight of history. It is about exile, identity and historical memory and how all these elements are internalised by people. But also how, in turn, people themselves reproduce these identities and schisms which, if left unchecked, can become extremely destructive. Or as Kassabova puts it: war and peace begin within us.
• 
  Amanda

  A really really good book about a region I had honestly never heard about. I love Kassabova's Borders and this book is not as dramatic as Borders, but touches on the same concepts of division, war, identities, history, suffering and inheritance. I loved how deeply rooted Kassabova is in the region and her subject matter. Some of the stories are very harrowing. I would recommend this book.
• 
  Luba

  W stronę Ochrydy (dlaczego wydawca zmienił oryginalny tytuł?) to podróż ze światła w ciemność i otchłań: od słonecznej Ochrydy do mrocznej Prespy, z ciemności ku światłości i nadziei: ku mającym ponoć uzdrawiająca moc źródłom przy klasztorze św. Nauma. Jak przekonuje Kassabova, krąg odziedziczonych po przodkach traum można przerwać, kismet można zmienić. A przynajmniej trzeba próbować, na przekór nacjonalistycznej narracji i rachunkom nie wyrównanych krzywd.
• 
  Monika O

  Nieporównanie słabsza niż jej poprzednia książka „Granica”
• 
  Dorotea Ognenovska

  I'm disappointed... Expected more from this book. Too much bulgarian propaganda. A very underwhelming read!
• 
  Zetta Mason

  This book was so much better once I had been to Ohrid. 10/10 would recommend going to the region first.
• 
  Alejandro EP

  Me dejé llevar demasiado por la temática regional a la hora de escoger este libro, y me ha decepcionado. Si bien es una historia (o un conjunto de vivencias) muy personales, tiernas y trágicas, la narración no me ha capturado. Tira más hacia la literatura biográfica que hacia la de viajes, y habría podido ahondar mucho más en anécdotas o eventos de la política contemporánea. Meh.
• 
  Ryan Murdock

  I’ve been looking forward to something new from this wonderful writer since Border, which was my top travel read of 2018.
  
  That earlier book touched on the author’s childhood in Bulgaria, and To The Lake takes us deeper as she journeys to her grandmother’s place of origin in the mountainous Macedonian lake district.
  
  The region was once an important nexus of trade between the old Roman world of the Western Empire and its up and coming Byzantine successor. Bisected by the via Egnatia — the Roman road that ran from Adriatic to Aegean, from Illyria to Constantinople — it is also a palimpsest of stories and cultures, religions and ethnicities, great suffering and deep spiritual realization.
  
  “The complex ethnogenesis of each modern nation-state, large or small, in the Balkans was in some way reflected in a similar process by its neighbour,” she writes. “Everything here was so connected and contradictory at the same time, that I was getting vertigo trying to follow the different strands before they became passionately entangled and descended into a heated power struggle, followed by disintegration.”
  
  The lake has watched it all play out, century after century. It is older than all of us. And it will be there long after we are gone.
  
  Kassabova encounters a broad cast of characters on her journey: monks and tenders of monastery candle flames, boatmen, old men who survived wars and communist oppression, young men whose dreams were shattered by circumstance, and others who are still struggling on.
  
  As she peels away the layers of her own family history — with its inevitable conflicts, misunderstandings, guilt and love — she finds it is as fractured and contested as the lake region itself.
  
  Those complicated family dynamics reflect a microcosm of the larger fractures of geography, politics, nationalism and ethnicities.
  
  “The lake was open, boundless,” she writes. “It was impossible to tell where each of the three countries began or ended, or why for pity’s sake it had been necessary to partition one lake into three nationalities […] Only the humans were self-imprisoned behind invisible lines.”
  
  There are no easy answers to such struggles. But the pre World War Two past of the region offers an example of a tolerance and peaceful coexistence that made life possible in this culturally blended region before the ideological experiments of the 20th century killed millions and left the survivors with scars which may never heal.
  
  “Seen from above, Ohrid and Prespa are a topographical image of the psyche — the light self and the shadow self, the conscious and the unconscious, linked through underground channels. Each contains the other without denying it, like a perfect yin and yang symbol. This is how they have survived as a self-renewing system for a million years.”
  
  To The Lake is one of my top reads of 2020. Travel writing at its finest.