Walking in Kadare's Footsteps: Literary Tourism in Gjirokastër, Albania

Although not very well-known outside its borders, Albanian literature possesses a distinct identity, rooted in the country's unique cultural and linguistic heritage: “This tender plant has produced some stunning blossoms in that rocky and legendary soil, many of which merit the attention of the outside world” said Robert Elsie (2005; 6), a Canadian scholar of Albanian studies who has contributed to the introduction of Albanian literature to the West through his translations. Elsie confirms other critics’ observations on the distinctiveness of Albanian literature: “Theirs was and continues to be a different and quite unique European culture and their written language still reflects many of its characteristics. This is indeed one of the factors that make Albanian literature so fascinating” (Elsie, 2005; 4). Ismail Kadare, one of Albania’s most renowned authors, holds a special place in it. His novels, such as Chronicle in Stone, The General of the Dead Army, and Broken April, vividly depict the landscapes, traditions, and struggles of the country and its people. Deeply rooted in the socio-political realities of Albania, they reflect themes of survival, resilience, and identity. It is the writer’s ability to intertwine local narratives with universal themes that has made his work resonate with readers worldwide (Ajdini, 2024; Morgan 2020). In addition to interesting themes and plots, Kadare’s novels also evoke settings that inspire readers to explore Albania. It is especially in the steep, cobbled streets of Gjirokastër, his birthplace, that the writer’s works bridge literature and place.

A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Gjirokastër – often called the "City of Stone" – is central to Kadare’s literary universe. It is prominently featured in his writings, serving as a literal and symbolic representation of the country itself (Erkoçi, 2016; 5), but nowhere is it as present and vivid as in Chronicle in Stone. Published in 1971, this novel is the writer’s first literary text set in his hometown and one of his best-known works. As Eric Faye writes in the foreword to the novel, “Because Gjirokastra gave him a sense of the universal and desire to carve his writing in eternity, it is exactly on its own stones that Ismail Kadare built the axis of his work” (Kadare, 2011; 8). In this book set in post WWII Albania, the city’s unique architecture and rich history are brought to life through the perspective of a child narrator.

The novel’s vivid imagery and poignant storytelling have made it a touchstone for literary tourism in the country. Visitors can explore the cobblestone streets and traditional Ottoman-era houses that inspired the book. The city is real but seems unreal because of the way it is depicted. The novel never explicitly names Gjirokastër, making it appear as an almost fictional place. To the foreign reader, especially the Western one, the description of the roofs with “grey slates like gigantic scales” under whose “powerful carapace the tender flesh of life survived and reproduced” (Kadare, 2011; 1) must seem quite exotic. The blend of reality with myth is what makes the novel exceptional in the reader’s eyes. Such descriptions create a strong motivation for them to turn into tourists to visit and experience the real place behind the words. Curiosity is inevitable: «It was a slanted city, set at a sharper angle than perhaps any other city on Earth, and it defied the laws of architecture and city planning. The top of one house might graze the foundation of another, and it was surely the only place in the world where if you slipped and fell in the street, you might well land on the roof of a house – a peculiarity known most intimately to drunks» (Kadare, 1971/2011; 1).

The technique used by the author – that of the grotesque intertwined with humour – is an additional drive to find pieces of truth in all this, from the houses which seem as if they have been placed one above the other, to the street where you can “stretch out your arm and hang your hat on a minaret” (Kadare, 1971/2011; 1). Gjirokastra, which Gilles Lapouge defines as “the old city hanging loose over time where little Ismail gathers the evidence he needs” (cited in Kuçuku, 2005; 245) is the best place to do this. By being the “focus of human experience, memory, desire and identity” (Barker, 2000; 195), place can play a key role in creating an image in the reader. Kadare’s Gjirokastra is multifaceted – it is a hometown, a topos, a space, a special architectural and urban structure, a landscape. But the city, as depicted by Kadare, is much more than a geographical space – it is also a lifestyle, nostalgia, a mind state, a symbol of resistance, a centre of paradox, a character. As the writer puts it: “The city has always been reserved in its expression of feelings. Gjirokastra and its people believed they were the best in the country and used binoculars to see the world and others […]” (cited in Krasta, n.d.). It is not merely a backdrop but a dynamic character with its own identity: “It was a strange city and seemed to have been cast up in the valley one winter’s night like some prehistoric creature that was now clawing its way up the mountainside” (Kadare, 2011; 1). The city as character also appeared in two later works of the author, as “a crazy city” in Çështje të marrëzisë (A Question of Lunacy) and as protagonist in Darka e gabuar (The Fall of the Stone City): «The city had always had a reputation for arrogance. There were different explanations for this. Viewed in the most charitable light, its pride was an aspect of its isolation. The supporters of this theory, conscious of its obvious inadequacy, would hasten to add that “isolation” in this context required some qualification. The city was surrounded by a far-reaching hinterland with which it was on poor terms and the inhabitants of this hinterland considered the city alien, if not their actual enemy (Kadare, 2008/2011; 10). «The city itself was inured to all this and sought neither conciliation nor agreement with anyone. Faced with such general hostility, any other city might perhaps have attempted to ally itself with one neighbour against another […]. But Gjirokastër was not as wise as it should have been. Or perhaps it was wiser. It came to the same thing» (Kadare, 2008/2011; 17).

In Kadare’s works, there is an intrinsic connection between the city’s physicality and the spirit of its people; the personification of place suggests that settings are more than locations; they reflect cultural and historical consciousness. The above-mentioned examples contain important values of a very authentic kind of ethnographic literature. Because of the rich physical details they offer, they do serve as good motivation for the reader to deconstruct the texts to search and visit the places that appear in the plots constructed by the writer. The novels’ emphasis on the city’s unique physical landscape, history, and local traditions encourages readers to visit and interpret the real-life setting through Kadare’s lens.

Gjirokastër is important for the Kadare tourist also because it played a crucial role in the character of the writer. As he himself says, “the more I learned about the secrets of the art of writing, the more I realized how lucky I had been to grow up in such a unique city, to have got the first explanations about the world by the wise old ladies in black, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a mirror in the other” (Preface to Chronicle in Stone, 2000; 6-7). Literary criticism on Kadare also never ignored the environment where the writer grew up: “The vertiginous slant of the streets, the ever-present stones, the strange, big, fortified buildings, the fortress which lies dominating above the neighbourhoods, the breath-taking view of the Drino valley and the surrounding mountains, all of this did inevitably shape the writer” (cited in Kuçuku, 2005; 47). Chronicle in Stone, The Fall of the Stone City and A Climate of Lunacy are Kadare’s tribute to his hometown. These works are also typical examples of books that incite literary tourism and can be used by the reader who would like to set off in search of an experience complementary to that of reading. Additionally, tourists, especially domestic ones, may be drawn to this literary place for some broader and deeper emotion than the specific writer or the story, such as nostalgia and memories linked with childhood. With a novel as a guide, the tourist can walk in the neighbourhoods mentioned there – Varosh, Old Bazaar, Dunavat, Castle, Palorto, Gjobek, Cfakë, Hazmurat or even along the “Street of the Mad Men” thinking about the characters they have read about who now seem like friends they have known for a long time.

Besides the city itself, another interesting attraction for literary tourists is Kadare’s childhood home, now turned into a museum. First built in 1799, the house was destroyed by fire in 1999 but reconstructed to match its original structure. It reopened as a museum in 2016 to celebrate Kadare’s 80th birthday. It displays a few surviving personal artifacts, including the writer’s cradle, his mother’s 1889 coffer, and a traditional brazier. The house exemplifies Gjirokastër’s architectural style, incorporating stone and wood with intricate hand-carved ornaments. The museum offers a glimpse into the daily lives of Gjirokastër’s residents during Kadare’s youth, enhancing visitors' understanding of the environment that influenced his writing. Kadare himself acknowledges the impact of this house on his literary imagination: “More than the town itself, or rather, along with the town, my house was also highly influential. It was a typical traditional one in terms of architecture with a special inner structure which would affect everyone’s imagination.” (cited in Krasta, n.d.) He adds: “There used to be a corner in my house where I liked to stay, a one-meter-deep niche inside the wall that could be locked from inside and which offered the intimacy I needed. It was on the second floor. There was a small desk where I liked to read and write. Those were my first writings (Krasta, n.d). As such, the museum strengthens the emotional connection between the reader and the writer, offering visitors a tangible link to Kadare’s formative years.

Gjirokastër’s literary tourism is a fusion of heritage, fiction, and cultural memory, offering visitors a chance to step into a literary landscape that exists both in Kadare’s novels and the city’s physical reality. The literary tourist in Gjirokaster has a choice of various literary products from the author’s house to the many streets and landmarks of the city vividly depicted in his novels, which offer an authentic experience and emotional connection to those following the footsteps of Kadare and his characters. Additionally, they can participate in literary activities based on the writer and his work as well as purchase souvenirs as mementoes of their experience, making their visit both meaningful and memorable. Kadare’s shrine and his grey city are waiting for the next tourist.

How to cite this entry: Erkoçi, I. (2025). Walking in Kadare's Footsteps: Literary Tourism in Gjirokastër, Albania. In R. Baleiro, G. Capecchi & J. Arcos-Pumarola (Eds.), E-Dictionary of Literary Tourism. University for Foreigners of Perugia. https://doi.org/10.34623/zdg2-hn59