Developed through a series of encounters with a Bosnian Serb soldier Stojan Sokolović, this book is a meditation on the possibilities and limitations of responding to the extreme violence of the Bosnian war. It explores the ethics of confronting the war criminal and investigates the possibility of responsibility not just to victims of war and war crimes, but also to the perpetrators of violence. The book explains how Stojan Sokolović attenuated the author to the fact that he was responsible, to everyone, all the time, and for everything. It exposes the complexity of the categories of good and evil. Silence is also the herald of violence, or its co-conspirator. The author and Stojan Sokolović were trapped in violence, discursive and material, and discursive that leads to material, and material that emanates from and leads back to discursive. Two years after beginning his research into identity and the politics of conflict in Bosnia and Kosovo, the author got the opportunity to visit the region presented itself. According to the vast majority of the literature of the 1990s on Bosnia, it was clear that the biggest problem with nationalist violence and intolerance was to be found in Republika Srpska. The book is the author's discourse on a variety of experiences, including those of ethics, politics, disasters, technologies, fieldwork, adventure tourism, and dilemmas.
Urban versus rural in City Slickers and Hunter’s Blood
Cater and Smith, 2003 ). The adventuretourism
experience, Cloke and Perkins ( 1998 ) argue,
evidences a new set of embodied tourist practices, supplementing (and
maybe even superseding) the previously dominant tourist gaze: instead of
contemplating nature, adventure tourists must experience it
bodily. Moreover, as Cater and Smith ( 2003 : 213)
say, the ‘consumption of the countryside in terms of
to be visited are the basic currency of exchange that
orients the researcher and often predetermines what or whom the
researcher will investigate.
The similarity between fieldwork and tourism is perhaps most significant in the case of ‘independent’ or ‘adventure’ tourists. It is worthwhile
to remember that anthropology as a scholarly discipline emerged from
adventuretourism. In Public Places, Private Journeys, Ellen Strain undertakes a genealogy of tourism and ethnography to demonstrate how modern
travellers engage in elitist activities that are very similar to
. (ed .) ( 1997 ), The Cinematic City
( London : Routledge ).
P. and Perkins ,
H . ( 1998 ), ‘“Cracking the
canyon”: representations of adventuretourism in New
Zealand’ , Environment and Planning
D 16 : 185–218 .
I . ( 2005 ), ‘Kiwi Gothic’ ,
in Schneider , S
expecting to meet their past, they mostly came for natural wonders and what we today would call adventuretourism. 59 No more than North America, the Pacific, or the Celtic fringe did Scandinavia offer a resolution to the problematic historical memories of emergent modernism. But the tropes used to represent it did sharpen debate on progress, even as they also enabled a historiographic narrative of Great Britain’s exceptionalism.
If one of the fundamental attractions of a Scandinavian odyssey was that it offered a return, I am arguing, the return was in many ways a