THE POLKA: What’s Riveting in Polish Literature by Anna Blasiak: KA KLAKLA, red anguish of the language contortionist
Ka Klakla is a rather enigmatic figure on the Polish literature landscape. They (their chosen pronoun) publish under a name that sounds like a pseudonym, but isn’t one. They cover quite a range of genres in their writing, from poetry to prose, both literary prose and, as they describe it , “an everyday one”. They are also an artist. They paint, illustrate, design interiors, gardens and books; they photograph and fairly regularly show their work at exhibitions. They are an architect by education (to PhD level), but they also gained degrees in teaching art, creative writing and other things. In their free time (what free time can they have if they do all these things listed above, I ask you?) they dabble in carpentry and upcycling.
What links all Klakla’s activities is a great ear for language, a wonderful sense of humour as well as a fierce and very outspoken feminism (let me add that it is still quite a brave stance in Poland). They call themself a turbo-feminist and a leftist, suffering from an acute allergy to xeno-, homo- and trans-phobia; to misogyny, racism and hunting, who doesn’t give a monkey about the Catholic Church (a bold statement if you live in Poland, even today); patriotism (ditto) or pride in your birthplace. They generally focus on the underdog, the marginalised, the abused and the violated, whether these are women, slaves, strangers, vagrants.
In their prose, Łotrzyca [The Villainess] trilogy (2020), but also Czerwony las [The Red Forest], (2022), they often draw on the tradition of folk storytelling and the picaresque novel. There is a touch of magical realism here and a lot of postmodern pastiche. The world of Łotrzyca and Czerwony las is a fantastical one, based on 16th-century Central Europe, with many references to old pagan beliefs and customs in that part of the world, but it’s a made-up one, very carefully constructed, highly detailed, full of references to contemporary times and very modern problems (refugee crisis, for example). Think The Witcher with a strong, unrepentant female protagonist who steals a life of a man for herself. And written in a snappy, colourful, full-bodied language with a wonderful rhythm and great ear for dialogue.
Ka Klakla said in one of their interviews that sometimes prose is not good enough a tool to describe certain emotions, and that is when poetry comes into play, as the writer’s last resort. Their poetry books are Żałoba po kocie (Grieving the Cat, 2020) and Zdrowaś (Hail, 2024). Their hallmark is white verse, quite sparse, highly precise, devoid of capital letters or any punctuation (which opens it up to multiple interpretations). The poet is very playful with the language, always looking for surprising intersections and overlaps of meanings, always exploring linguistic coincidences, twisting phrases out of their usual shapes into something new, something that forces the reader to stop, think and rethink. It’s as if the poet were constantly coding and recoding, shifting gears in some magical language encryption device. This poetry shimmers and bewilders, also with its extremely distilled form, but it can also be acutely painful. As in their prose, Klakla focuses on stories of the underdogs and outcasts, often told through lack or emptiness rather than its opposite.
As a taster, here is a Klakla poem from the Covid-time anthology, Jutro nie mieści się w głowie (Tomorrow boggles the mind, 2020) (translated by yours truly):
quarantine knows that behind me wall brick wood straw crushed with clay plywood or window pane and no exit no rat hole tapping of fingers on the steering wheel breathing in lips smacking as if words were about to flutter humming of the engine of the tyres on asphalt footsteps on the floor on the stairs whisper of doors a mug clanking on the tabletop water boiling call of a titmouse in a plum tree plum tree in a sudden snow tick tick meagre portion of time portion of yesterday’s love in a bowl at an arm’s reach place it on the ground I’ll eat on my knees
Anna Blasiak
Photo of Ka Klakla by Marek Jaczyński
Anna Blasiak is a poet, writer, translator and Managing Editor of the European Literature Network.
Read previous posts in The Polka series:
THE POLKA: What’s Riveting in Polish LIterature by Anna Blasiak. JOANNA BATOR and her bears
Jarosław Jabrzemski
I’m so glad. I love her writing, I respect her intellect and I admire her knowledge. Thank you so much for this brilliant review. Sincerely J.J.