The Bridge on the Drina

“But how many of our townsmen have, in the course of centuries and the passage of generations, sat here in the dawn or twilight or evening hours and unconsciously measured the whole starry vault above!” 

The bridge, as described throughout the first chapter, is the center of the community in the town. As evidenced in the quote above, its value is that it provides community, trade, entertainment, and everything else to all of the people regardless of race, creed, economic status, or any other demographic marker. The bridge is a symbol of the potential unity of the town of Višegrad. 

“The aga of the janissaries, with armed escort, was returning to Stambul after collecting from the villages of eastern Bosnia the appointed number of Christian children for the blood tribute.” 

The above quote describes the Ottoman practice of devshirme, in which soldiers were sent to Christian communities in the Balkans to kidnap children as a means of tax. These children would be taken away and converted Islam, raised to be members of the military or the civil service. This disconnect between the Muslim parts of the Ottoman Empire and their Christian subjects becomes a formative moment in the history of the bridge, inspiring one of the kidnapped children to try to reconnect the two communities by building a bridge and easing access and communication. 

“See how Mehmed Pasha, the greatest among the wise and great of his time./Mindful of the testament of his hear, by his care and toil/Has built a bridge over the River Drina,/Over this water, deep and swift-flowing.” 

The inscription on the bridge is written in a language that most of the townspeople cannot read. Not only do their words corrupt the translation when they repeat it in their own language, but the inscription falsely attributes the hard work to the absent Mehmed Pasha, who has not been in the town for more than half a century. After the toil and the bloodshed, the celebratory reverence of the finished bridge leads the people to misinterpret the builder of the bridge, just as they misinterpret the words of the poem. 

“So they ranged story against story, all insignificant in themselves but each with a meaning for them and their generation though incomprehensible to others; harmless recollections which evoked the monotonous, pleasant yet hard life of the townsmen, of their own life.” 

As the flood ravages the town and ruins the merchants, they share tales of past floods. These stories act as coping mechanisms, reassuring one another that the destruction will pass and moments of levity will be found. In doing this, they hope to set an example for the rest of the town. They know that there is nothing they can do other than to set an emotional tone to which all others must be tuned, if the town is to endure. 

“Turks and Serbs […] talked together with those hundred or so commonplace word of provincial courtesy […] like counterfeit coin which none the less makes communication both possible and easy.” 

As a Serbian revolt draws closer, the Serbs and the Turks of the town find themselves suddenly in opposition. The courteous and polite greetings they had for one another have now become illicit and tainted; their comparison to the counterfeit coins suggests that they bear the appearance of authenticity but are marked by a deep-bedded falsity. The racial tensions in the town simmer close to boil, even if polite and friendly appearances are maintained. 

“Those were the few decades about the middle of the nineteenth century in which the Turkish Empire was consumed by a slow fever.” 

In this quote, there is a clear equivocation drawn between the declining geopolitical status of the Ottoman Empire and the sickness that will be described later in the chapter. Not only is Sarajevo at the risk of plague, for instance, but the declining fortunes of the Ottomans lead to new borders being drawn and Serbians to gain greater autonomy. This is described as a sickness, as the divisions within the town of Višegrad are made to seem almost poisonous, splitting apart the bridge and preventing it from linking the two communities. 

“All that remained was a song about a girl whose beauty and wisdom shone above the world as if it were immortal.” 

Throughout the novel, the memories, legends, stories, and songs about the events live long beyond the actual lives of the subjects. The tragic suicide of Fata fades from the memory, for example, but it is the song about her that achieves immortality. Like the bridge, her song becomes a community venture, as much a part of the local scenery as the mountains or the Drina. 

“The mufti knew that the people of Višegrad had never had the reputation of being enthusiastic fighters and that they preferred to live foolishly rather than to die foolishly.” 

This quote builds upon the idea of Višegrad as a melting pot of communities, suggesting that close proximity to those who might be considered enemies helps to diminish antagonisms and bitterness. Because the people of Višegrad live in such close contact with other races and religions, they see little point in dying for such matters. Though they are supposedly on the front line of these battles, they are less fervent than those from many hundreds of miles away. 

“He seized on this legend, feverishly and passionately, expounding it to the people as a real and unexpected aid.” 

In a novel that discusses at great length how legends come into being, this quote reveals what can happen when such a legend is used for political means. Osman Effendi seizes upon a piece of local folklore to try and recruit soldiers to his doomed cause. If his fervent anger is not inspiring enough, he appeals to the local legends to appeal to the townspeople. The suggestion is that they too can turn themselves into legends by fighting against the Austrians. This doomed and cynical attempt belies the actual way that legends are formed but shows the dangers of those who wish to use such legends for their own needs. 

“Only now could it be seen that he was simply dressed, disheveled and ungroomed, in contrast to his pale-faced, smartly-uniformed officers.” 

The buildup of tension before the arrival of the Austrian colonel is palpable. Before he arrives, the destructive powers of the Austrian soldiers are evident, while the first officers to ride into town do so with all the pomp and ceremony of a conquering imperial army. When the colonel steps down from his horse, it is a humanizing moment. Compared to the community leaders, he does not seem that frightening. The tension is replaced by confusion, the fear changed for anxiety. 

“In fact, it could be said that all these changes on the bridge were insignificant, fleeting and superficial.” 

Under Austrian occupation, there are a great many changes to the town in cultural, aesthetic, and bureaucratic terms. However, the bridge at the center of the town endures. Again, the bridge functions as a metaphor for the fundamental aspect of life in the community that does not alter, regardless of the surrounding circumstances. No matter what the Austrians changes, they cannot affect the bridge in any meaningful way. 

“For if gamblers questioned the origin of every stake, the game would never begin.” 

The above quote is an aside at the end of the story of Milan Glasičanin. After Milan renounces gambling, his habit passes on to the young Bukus Gaon. Not only does the quote provide a commentary on the dubious morality of gambling, it functions as a comment on the story of Milan itself: Milan never questions the stranger’s origins as he is so desperate to continue gambling. Even when the stranger’s behavior becomes increasingly strange, Milan cannot look past his vice. The quote demonstrates why Milan, Bukus, and many more will succumb to gambling, as they are willing to ignore warning signs while they chase the high of winning. 

“Generally speaking, everything became easier and more normal.” 

Once again, a large change in the lives of the townspeople (conscription into the Imperial army) becomes sanitized and familiar with the passing of time. At first, there is an armed uprising against the idea. Then weeping and crying. Then, finally, it is accepted. This is true of many of the cultural events in the town; massive change becomes normalized by the passing of time, becoming fragments of folklore where once they were reasons to go to war. 

“In this raising of the standard of the whole family and the setting of each individual member on his feet, she found her sole satisfaction and a reward for all the burdens and renunciations of her life.” 

Lotte, who runs the town’s largest hotel, is a childless widow. Though the town is rife with gossip regarding whomsoever can steal her affections, he one true love is being able to raise up her extensive family network. This she does in secret, sending letters and money to ensure that every member of her family is able to climb the social ladder. These hidden actions are the true aim of Lotte’s life and provide her with real purpose.

“Below him there was no longer that narrow and slippery stone parapet of that familiar bridge on which he had countless times munched his bread and, thinking of the sweetness of death in the waves beneath, had gone to sleep in the shade of the kapia.” 

Salko Ćorkan’s moment of realization comes when he drunkenly dances along the icy parapet of the bridge. The moment brings together the most important aspects of his life: his isolation, his alcoholism, his love for a tightrope walker, his suicidal thoughts, and the mocking, braying chants of the men of the inn who goad him and torture him. In dancing along the parapet, he accomplishes a great feat and writes himself into the town’s folklore. While other more successful men will eventually be forgotten, his deed will always be remembered. 

“It became more and more evident that the good profit and easier life which they had brought had their counterpart and were only pieces in some great and mysterious game of which no one knew all the rules and none could foresee the outcome.” 

The ebb and flow of the fortunes following the Austrian invasion change the mood of the town. Increasingly, the little town in operating in a wider world. Engineers appear and fix the bridge without warning; the railway is built and the importance of the town elevated. Višegrad cannot hide away from the world forever and eventually the outside world will enter and shatter the fragile, easy life that exists in the town. 

“Whenever a government feels the need of promising peace and prosperity to its citizens by means of a proclamation, it is time to be on guard and expect the opposite.” 

As the timeline of the book begins to approach the 20th century and outside forces become more pronounced, there is an increased use of dramatic irony. The once-peaceful little town is now home to rising ethnic and nationalist tensions, forces that will soon erupt into the First World War. Audiences who are aware of this can begin to trace the emergence of such ideologies through to the two World Wars, as well as the Balkan wars of the latter part of the century (though these occurred after the death of the author). 

“Those desires for which hundreds of years had flown before the slow pace of history could now no longer keep pace with it but outdistanced it by some fantastic flight along the road to the most daring realization.” 

As the influence of outside events are more keenly felt, there is an increasing sense of events moving out of the control of the townspeople. The surge in nationalism and the newfound awareness of global events brings external conflicts to bear on the town streets. As with the trains, the pace of history accelerates and few people pause to question the wisdom of this rapid change. What had once seemed immutable and permanent has—just like the mine buried within the bridge—the potential to explode from the inside. 

“He could not even understand his own sons as he should.” 

Lotte reflects on her friend Pavle, who rages against the modernization of the world. Like many people, Pavle finds the youth of this time to be too invested in themselves and their philosophizing works. Young people, in his opinion, are keener to talk than to take action. This results in a “life without calculation” (262), a sentiment that is echoed in the views of other characters. Increasingly, it seems as though this generational divide will face a reckoning. 

“I would easily find work there, for over there all jobs are open and unrestricted.” 

Still in Bosnia, Nikola has convinced himself that departing for America is the only viable option if he is to be successful. However, the above quote demonstrates that this belief may be built on questionable foundations. In the early part of the 20th century, it is not true to say that “all jobs are open and unrestricted” (280). In the pre-civil rights era, certain jobs and roles were very much dependent on race, for instance. Though Nikola has an idea of America, these subtle hints suggest that it might not be the ideal destination he has in mind. 

“The officer, a Hungarian reserve lieutenant, read in a harsh voice the sentences of death in German; they were then translated by a sergeant.” 

The above sentence encapsulates the nationalist threat posed by the outbreak of the First World War. In the small town, men arrive who cannot speak the local language but wield all of the power. They hang Serbs and are not even able to pass down the sentence in the condemned men’s mother tongue. There is a fundamental disconnect between the two sides, one that is irrecoverable.  

“Old Mihailo went on offering food and drink to everyone present and his untiring and irresistible hospitality forced them all to take heart.” 

As the reality of the war sets in, the despair and the hopelessness become apparent. The residents of the town have so little agency and control over events that all they can do is console one another, drinking and smoking to pass the time as the shells fly overhead. Indeed, Mihailo is keeping secret the truth of the death of one woman’s husband in order to withhold her grief for as long as possible. Though it might not be helpful or honest, it is all he can do. 

“And here was where it has led him; to sit between two soldiers like the lowest of brigands and wait until some shell or infernal machine should damage the bridge and, for that reason, to have his throat cut or be shot.” 

The above quote encapsulates the unfairness of the war. Pavle, who has built a thriving business from nothing, has lost everything due to events outside of his control. Not only that, but his life has been tied to the bridge. He now becomes an avatar of an avatar; as the bridge has been held as a symbol of the unity of the people, Pavle’s death would symbolize the death of the bridge of a symbol. Though he has never particularly been linked to the bridge, his life will be used to pay for the disunity of the world.