FEMME FATALE (Karakondzula): (There between Heaven and Hell)

How much more can a femme fatale and love achieve, compared to what men can? Amidst a heavy snowfall during a cold winter night, a beautiful young woman is brought to a women's monastery called "Đurđevica". Her village knows her for her extraordinary beauty, and nothing more. Everyone is trying to uncover the secret as to why she is there and who she is. But the abbot is set on taking the secret to the grave. On St. George's Day, Huka, from the neighbouring Muslim village, spots an old woman combing the beautiful girl's hair in front of the monastery. Stunned by her appearance, she is all he wants, from that day on. The poetic pictures of magical realism in this book reveal a story of erotic love and horror."The novel Femme Fatale has to warm the palms of literary criticism, even the proverbially cautious and conventionally strict one. As if waiting for her, we have a new thought in the invoice of her text, a new lyricism of prose expression, without reliance on the proclaimed conventions of our tradition, with the exception of Humin's Grozdanina kikota (Grozdana's Giggle) in Bosniak literature, while they both draw fantastic threads from Serbian literature of demonological provenance. But all this is in a skilful combination with old charms, eloquence, a bit solemn, pathos, drama, music of tense strong syncopations and muffled, tragic tones. And that, as if it suits this time with so many layers of prose verbalism. Bisera, therefore, belongs to the writers, whose work, in terms of content, is reduced to five books: one collection of poems and four novels, and now to the fifth under the characteristic and suggestive title Femme Fatale, which again shows one of many variations of the same poetic and poetic ideas. Constantly mobile, her eloquence, rhetoric, eloquence, stylistics, phonological and morphological stylistics, semantics constantly searching for that material form, which will most fully express the drama of her unrest, that emptiness in existence and the world, that icy presence of the indomitable word, that hope of hers which her words burns with, the waterfalls of her syntactic-semantic sets of sentences, that blindness of instinct to be restrained, that noice of threats, that muffled call of life that barely penetrates the steel armor of the writer's detachment, that need to be part of the world and to dive into it, that bait of the abyss that night opens and day does not close." Sead Mahmutefendic