"Never ending time" by Petar Stoyanovich are memories without the burden of memory.
"Until he knocks 50, the man thinks he has only one body. Then the others start calling. No matter how young, one returns to the memories. And the more timely, the better that he doesn't need a tongue diaper. I'd rather choose my own narrative of the past than naively rely on heirs or, God forbid, well-wishers. Nobody really cares about their fellow man sincerely, but at least they can get a pleasant experience out of what they read. Thank you so much."
Peter Stoyanovich
In a memoir there is always picaresque, never yellow. Epoch must be present, drawing. Characters! There are always a dozen important things that other contemporaries didn't have the balls to say or admit outright. Of course, one can't just be beholden to someone or just objective to the facts. One has to be in the middle, but at the same time smell like freshly baked bread so that the reader will want to eat it.
