Antonela Marušić who now writes under her pseudonym, Nora Verde, was born in 1974 in Dubrovnik. She completed her degree in Croatian Language and Literature at the University of Zadar. She has published several collections of poetry as well as the semi-autobioraphical novel Posudi mi smajl (2010) (Lend Me a Smile), the novel Do isteka zaliha (2013) (Until the Supplies Run Out), and a collection of short stories O ljubavi, batinama i revoluciji (2016) (On Love, Beatings and Revolution). Marušić previously worked as a journalist and editor in the cultural sector as well as music, television and independent media. She is a contributor and editor for the feminist website Vox Feminae.
Her novel, Until the Supplies Run Out, which centers around a relationship between two female partners that is coming to a slow, painful and perhaps inevitable end in a city and a society that doesn’t accept their love is a stark, honest and thoughtful work.
Read an excerpt from Verde’s novel, Until the Supplies Run Out, below.
Translation by Paula Jurišić.
Until the Supplies Run Out by Nora Verde
She stood up from the couch gently rocking, when she finally got on her feet she headed towards the sink and turned on the tap leaving her whole arm under the stream of water.
- At some point, once everything falls into place, in a year or two, water will wash off all the guilt you can't stop yapping about. And guess what happens then?
- What?
- You'll start writing about it; won’t you? That’s exactly what you'll do. You just won't be able to wait to tell the world and the cultural audience about your painful relationship that lasted for six years. Otherwise, what else would you be writing about? Social dystopia? No, you wouldn't go there, it's not what you're good at, or what turns you on. You're an exhibitionist, just like those guys who jerk off in parks, only you fucking do it with words.
I sat on the kitchen floor, leaning against the wall and listening. Interrupting her was not an option, it seemed as though, after six hours of verbal beating, she finally got tired. I let her use up all the ammo she had left. My ego was no longer hurting anyway.
- You honestly think that the world is about to jerk off to your confessions?! After all, you pulled this off just to have something to prattle about on your laptop.
What she said has really hurt me, I muttered under my breath, thinking about what to say to her. The water kept running and I started to hate the sound of it, I waited for her to turn it off. Not a chance, though, as if the rustling, silvery water stream somehow made her brave and psychic. She cupped her hands together and drank. The amount of words spoken and tears dried has obviously made her thirsty. I was thirsty too, but I wasn't even thinking about stepping into her corner of the kitchen.
I had given up firing back at her; I had given up drinking water and opposing her. I would have given anything just to make my way out of there. During the session that took six hours I made three failed attempts to get the hell out of that place. Luna made me return every time, reining me in with a bit of guilt that made my tongue heavy and I kept staying just to hear more accusations, rants and questions.
When she finally turned off the damn tap, she came back with water stains on her T-shirt and on her hoodie and sat next to me. She looked refreshed, a bit more resigned, which is exactly what I was afraid of, those creepy moments of ceasefire and squinting through the scope. We kept quiet. I was getting ready, flipping the verbs, nouns and adverbs, trying to get the right combination on a slot machine in my head.
- I should leave – I said sighing heavily
She looked at me blankly
- Where to?
- Home. I'm wasted.
She wrapped her arms around her knees up and placed her chin on them. She groaned in what seemed to be a mixture of fatigue irony and protest. It was kind of erotic, when we least expected it. Suddenly, I wanted to stay a bit longer, but I immediately discarded such a foolish idea. I swallowed a bit of saliva, I wanted to push that urge deep down in my gastric well and drown it. I better not mess up such a fair and sporting chance of finally breaking free.
You're off to her place? - the question arose.
I didn't have to answer, she did it for me.
- You're definitely headed there, there's no way you'd go back to an empty flat now. You're way too weak for such a thing, I know you well.
I was slowly rising to my feet from that crouching position, trying not to look at Luna. She was sitting calmly in my peripheral vision. A moment later she jumped to her feet and stood right in front of me.
- Hold me, she said in a commanding tone.
I held her. With my eyes closed, and my senses numbed, I got only a whiff of her sweet sweat, but I handled it quite well. She wrapped her hands around my waist; loosening her grip she gently laid her head on my right shoulder and kept breathing.
- Honey, do you love me? – she whispered.
- Just say it one more time and I'll let you go for good, I will not be bothering you, you'll be proud of me, the coolest dumped person ever, in the whole region, as you’d put in those music essays of yours, get it…
She laid it all down in one breath, like a kid emptying his water gun in a couple of shots only. She looked at me with those watery eyeballs that were still red, waiting for an answer. I realized I needed to give it to her, she needed it desperately. I pulled my lower lip over the upper one moistening them, just to buy myself an extra second.
- Of course I do – I said automatically and felt my knees shaking. For the first time that evening, Luna managed to put up some sort of a twisted, second-hand smile.
We hugged again in front of the door.
***
I got into the elevator and glanced at myself in the filthy, peeling mirror. It seemed like a moment I will remember.
The descent was slow, numbers swirled hesitantly on a small square display.
As soon as I stepped out of it, I called Nev. She sounded tired, but it didn’t seem like I’ve awakened her from a deep sleep.
- Where are you? – she asked trying not appear nervous.
- In front of the building, where you left me last night.
- Do you want me to pick you up?
- If it's not a problem.
- Of course it's not a problem.
- Stop a bit further, though, in front of Lisinski, I’m too nervous to wait here, I'll walk.
- Ok, I'll meet you there in ten minutes.
I looked around; the street and the sidewalk were empty. It was just about to dawn, the coldest and the quietest hour. I didn’t mind the cold. I walked by a parked car, it was dotted with tiny droplets of dew. As I walked I ran my hand over the passenger side window. I was dreaming of a magic sponge to wipe my conscience with.
Translation: Paula Jurišić
Kritična masa raspisuje novi natječaj književne nagrade "Kritična masa" za mlade autorice i autore (do 35 godina).
Ovo je osmo izdanje nagrade koja pruža pregled mlađe prozne scene (širi i uži izbor) i promovira nova prozna imena.
Prva nagrada iznosi 700 eura (bruto iznos) i dodjeljuje se uz plaketu.
U konkurenciju ulaze svi dosad neobjavljeni oblici proznih priloga (kratka priča, odlomci iz većih formi, prozne crtice). Osim prozne fikcije, prihvatljivi su i dokumentarni prozni tekstovi te dnevničke forme koji posjeduju književnu dimenziju.
Prethodnih su godina nagradu dobili Ana Rajković, Jelena Zlatar, Marina Gudelj, Mira Petrović, Filip Rutić, Eva Simčić i Ana Predan.
Krajnji rok za slanje prijava je 10.12.2024.
Pravo sudjelovanja imaju autorice i autori rođeni od 10.12.1989. nadalje.
NAGRADA "KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Robert Aralica (Šibenik, 1997.) studij hrvatskoga i engleskoga jezika i književnosti završava 2020. godine na Filozofskom fakultetu Sveučilišta u Splitu. U slobodno vrijeme bavi se pisanjem proze i produkcijom elektroničke glazbe. Svoje literarne radove objavljivao je u studentskim časopisima Humanist i The Split Mind. 2022. kriminalističkom pričom Natkrovlje od čempresa osvojio je prvo mjesto na natječaju Kristalna pepeljara. Trenutno je zaposlen u II. i V. splitskoj gimnaziji kao nastavnik hrvatskoga jezika.
NAGRADA "KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Iva Esterajher (Ljubljana, 1988.) živi i radi u Zagrebu. Diplomirala je politologiju na Fakultetu političkih znanosti. Aktivno se bavi likovnom umjetnošću (crtanje, slikarstvo, grafički rad), fotografijom, kreativnim pisanjem te pisanjem filmskih i glazbenih recenzija. Kratke priče i poezija objavljene su joj u književnim časopisima i na portalima (Urbani vračevi, UBIQ, Astronaut, Strane, NEMA, Afirmator) te je sudjelovala na nekoliko književnih natječaja i manifestacija (Večernji list, Arteist, FantaSTikon, Pamela festival i dr.).
NAGRADA "KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Nikola Pavičić (Zagreb, 2004.) živi u Svetoj Nedelji. Pohađa Pravni fakultet Sveučilišta u Zagrebu. Piše, napose poeziju i lirsku prozu, te sa svojim tekstovima nastoji sudjelovati u literarnim natječajima i časopisima. U slobodno vrijeme voli proučavati književnost i povijest te učiti jezike.
NAGRADA "KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Luca Kozina (Split, 1990.) piše prozu, poeziju i književne kritike. Dobitnica je nagrade Prozak u sklopu koje je 2021. objavljena zbirka priča Važno je imati hobi. Zbirka je ušla u uži izbor nagrade Edo Budiša. Dobitnica je nagrada za poeziju Mak Dizdar i Pisanje na Tanane izdavačke kuće Kontrast u kategoriji Priroda. Dobitnica je nagrade Ulaznica za poeziju. Od 2016. piše književne kritike za portal Booksu. Članica je splitske udruge Pisci za pisce. Zajedno s Ružicom Gašperov i Sarom Kopeczky autorica je knjige Priručnica - od ideje do priče (2023).
NAGRADA "KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Ana Predan (Pula, 1996.) odrasla je u Vodnjanu. U šestoj godini počinje svirati violinu, a u šesnaestoj pjevati jazz. Po završetku srednje škole seli u Ljubljanu gdje studira međunarodne odnose, a onda u Trst gdje upisuje jazz pjevanje pri tršćanskom konzervatoriju na kojem je diplomirala ove godine s temom radništva u glazbi Istre. U toku studiranja putuje u Estoniju gdje godinu dana provodi na Erasmus+ studentskoj razmjeni. Tada sudjeluje na mnogo vrijednih i važnih projekata, i radi s umjetnicima i prijateljima, a počinje se i odmicati od jazza, te otkriva eksperimentalnu i improviziranu glazbu, te se počinje zanimati za druge, vizualne medije, osobito film. Trenutno živi u Puli, gdje piše za Radio Rojc i predaje violinu u Glazbenoj školi Ivana Matetića-Ronjgova. Piše oduvijek i često, najčešće sebi.
NAGRADA "SEDMICA & KRITIČNA MASA" - UŽI IZBOR
Eva Simčić (Rijeka, 1990.) do sada je kraću prozu objavljivala na stranicama Gradske knjižnice Rijeka, na blogu i Facebook stranici Čovjek-Časopis, Reviji Razpotja i na stranici Air Beletrina. Trenutno živi i radi u Oslu gdje dovršava doktorat iz postjugoslavenske književnosti i kulture.
Jyrki K. Ihalainen (r. 1957.) finski je pisac, prevoditelj i izdavač. Od 1978. Ihalainen je objavio 34 zbirke poezije na finskom, engleskom i danskom. Njegova prva zbirka poezije, Flesh & Night , objavljena u Christianiji 1978. JK Ihalainen posjeduje izdavačku kuću Palladium Kirjat u sklopu koje sam izrađuje svoje knjige od početka do kraja: piše ih ili prevodi, djeluje kao njihov izdavač, tiska ih u svojoj tiskari u Siuronkoskom i vodi njihovu prodaju. Ihalainenova djela ilustrirali su poznati umjetnici, uključujući Williama S. Burroughsa , Outi Heiskanen i Maritu Liulia. Ihalainen je dobio niz uglednih nagrada u Finskoj: Nuoren Voiman Liito 1995., nagradu za umjetnost Pirkanmaa 1998., nagradu Eino Leino 2010. Od 2003. Ihalainen je umjetnički direktor Anniki Poetry Festivala koji se odvija u Tampereu. Ihalainenova najnovija zbirka pjesama je "Sytykkei", objavljena 2016 . Bavi se i izvođenjem poezije; bio je, između ostalog, gost na albumu Loppuasukas finskog rap izvođača Asa 2008., gdje izvodi tekst pjesme "Alkuasukas".
Maja Marchig (Rijeka, 1973.) živi u Zagrebu gdje radi kao računovođa. Piše poeziju i kratke priče. Polaznica je više radionica pisanja poezije i proze. Objavljivala je u brojnim časopisima u regiji kao što su Strane, Fantom slobode, Tema i Poezija. Članica literarne organizacije ZLO. Nekoliko puta je bila finalistica hrvatskih i regionalnih književnih natječaja (Natječaja za kratku priču FEKPa 2015., Međunarodnog konkursa za kratku priču “Vranac” 2015., Nagrade Post scriptum za književnost na društvenim mrežama 2019. i 2020. godine). Njena kratka priča “Terapija” osvojila je drugu nagradu na natječaju KROMOmetaFORA2020. 2022. godine objavila je zbirku pjesama Spavajte u čarapama uz potporu za poticanje književnog stvaralaštva Ministarstva kulture i medija Republike Hrvatske u biblioteci Poezija Hrvatskog društva pisaca.
Juha Kulmala (r. 1962.) finski je pjesnik koji živi u Turkuu. Njegova zbirka "Pompeijin iloiset päivät" ("Veseli dani Pompeja") dobila je nacionalnu pjesničku nagradu Dancing Bear 2014. koju dodjeljuje finska javna radiotelevizija Yle. A njegova zbirka "Emme ole dodo" ("Mi nismo Dodo") nagrađena je nacionalnom nagradom Jarkko Laine 2011. Kulmalina poezija ukorijenjena je u beatu, nadrealizmu i ekspresionizmu i često se koristi uvrnutim, lakonskim humorom. Pjesme su mu prevedene na više jezika. Nastupao je na mnogim festivalima i klubovima, npr. u Engleskoj, Njemačkoj, Rusiji, Estoniji i Turskoj, ponekad s glazbenicima ili drugim umjetnicima. Također je predsjednik festivala Tjedan poezije u Turkuu.