Dritëro Agolli

[1] He studied in Leningrad in the Soviet Union, and wrote primarily poetry, but also short stories, essays, plays, and novels.

He later studied at the Faculty of Arts of the University of Leningrad and took up journalism upon his return to Albania, working for the daily newspaper Zëri i Popullit (English: The People’s Voice) for 15 years.

Agolli's second novel, The man with the cannon (Albanian: Njeriu me top, Tirana 1975) translated into English in 1983, takes up the partisan theme from a different angle.

His pathetic vanity, his quixotic fervour, his grotesque public behaviour, his splendour and fall, are all recorded in ironic detail by his hard-working and more astute subordinate and friend Demkë who serves as a neutral observer.

Comrade Zylo is a universal figure, to be found in any society or age, and critics have been quick to draw parallels ranging from Daniel Defoe and Nikolay Gogol’s Revizor to Franz Kafka and Milan Kundera's Zert.

Splendour and fall of comrade Zylo first appeared in 1972 in the Tirana satirical journal Hosteni (English: The goad) and was published the following year in monograph form.

So do not be surprised, you poets yet unborn, And do not judge us, for that which wasn't done; We, next to you, will seem like hermits wild and worn, Burdened with iron chains, and grain ripening in the sun.

We who never slept, from dusk to morning dew; We who gave our world so many works of art: Couldn't we have written love into just a line or two?