Tracks, Province, and a Bird’s-Eye View. What Did We Really Talk About with Krzysztof Bielecki? 11.06.2026
The most interesting literary meetings begin where conversations about the book itself end. They allow us to look behind the scenes of writing, to hear where stories, images, and characters come from, and to discover the way of seeing the world that stands behind the pages of a text. This was exactly the case during the meeting with Krzysztof Bielecki at Potocki Palace, organised as part of the “Literatura w Willi” series – a meeting that allowed participants to enter literature from within and get to know the author not only through his books, but also through his story of writing.
The conversation with the author was moderated by Bartosz Sadulski. And it should be said right away: it had everything a good literary meeting needs. A great pace, sharp comments, a sense of humour, and that special ease thanks to which literature stops standing behind a glass display case and starts speaking in a human voice. Sometimes, it even laughs at itself.
Over the years, many labels have been attached to Krzysztof Bielecki: the first postmodernist, a hermetic writer, a non-hermetic writer, an avant-garde author, unfairly underrated, consistent, and distinct. During the meeting, however, the most interesting question was not about the labels themselves, but about what lies beneath them: the experience of writing, the memory of places, a shift in perspective, and attentiveness to a world that often seems too ordinary to be turned into literature.
And yet this is precisely where Bielecki looks for tension and meaning. Speaking about “Nóż”, he described the book as growing out of a specific moment in life. Not out of some abstract “twenty-first century”, but out of his own age, out of the experience of time that changes the way one looks at oneself and others. Out of the moment when a person begins to understand that they are no longer a student, that their place in the world is shifting almost imperceptibly, and that everyday gestures start to carry a different weight.
Province was also important in this story – but not as a label attached to small towns or places far from the centre. Bielecki spoke about it more broadly, almost cosmically: if the Earth itself can be a province, then why shouldn’t Kutno, a road, a pond, London, or a stretch of railway tracks be provinces too? There is no condescension in this way of seeing. Rather, there is tenderness towards places and objects that literature is able to bring out of the background.
The image of looking from “a bird’s-eye view” resonated especially strongly – from a distance that does not take meaning away from things, but allows us to see their arrangement, rhythm, and beauty. Railway tracks, roads, small towns, peripheries, accidental landscapes: all of them can become the starting point for a story. All it takes is a different way of looking. Perhaps that is exactly what literature is about: seeing that what we pass by every day is not obvious at all.
The meeting also showed that a conversation with an author allows us to enter a book from another side. You do not have to be a literary expert to take part in such events. You can simply come, listen, and see whether a given voice, style, and imagination are something you want to immerse yourself in. Sometimes one anecdote, one sentence, or one well-asked question is enough to make you reach for a book. Or to return to reading after a longer break.
This is exactly what “Literatura w Willi” is for: promoting reading, authors, and their works, as well as creating a space for conversation – attentive, open, and much needed. For years, Willa Decjusza has been building such places of encounter: between writers and readers, between text and experience, between literature and everyday life. It is not only about presenting books. It is about showing that literature is a living practice of conversation about the world.
Krzysztof Bielecki is currently a resident of the “Homines Urbani” programme at Willa Decjusza in Kraków, where he is working on his latest novel, “Krew werk”. This made the meeting not only an opportunity to talk about the author’s previous work, but also a chance to capture a moment of transition – between books, themes, and new ways of seeing.
Thank you to everyone who joined us at Potocki Palace. It is thanks to meetings like this that literature stops being a solitary experience and becomes a shared space of listening, questions, and discoveries.
Co-financed by the Minister of Culture and National Heritage from the Culture Promotion Fund.
Over the years, many labels have been attached to Krzysztof Bielecki: the first postmodernist, a hermetic writer, a non-hermetic writer, an avant-garde author, unfairly underrated, consistent, and distinct. During the meeting, however, the most interesting question was not about the labels themselves, but about what lies beneath them: the experience of writing, the memory of places, a shift in perspective, and attentiveness to a world that often seems too ordinary to be turned into literature.
And yet this is precisely where Bielecki looks for tension and meaning. Speaking about “Nóż”, he described the book as growing out of a specific moment in life. Not out of some abstract “twenty-first century”, but out of his own age, out of the experience of time that changes the way one looks at oneself and others. Out of the moment when a person begins to understand that they are no longer a student, that their place in the world is shifting almost imperceptibly, and that everyday gestures start to carry a different weight.
Province was also important in this story – but not as a label attached to small towns or places far from the centre. Bielecki spoke about it more broadly, almost cosmically: if the Earth itself can be a province, then why shouldn’t Kutno, a road, a pond, London, or a stretch of railway tracks be provinces too? There is no condescension in this way of seeing. Rather, there is tenderness towards places and objects that literature is able to bring out of the background.
The image of looking from “a bird’s-eye view” resonated especially strongly – from a distance that does not take meaning away from things, but allows us to see their arrangement, rhythm, and beauty. Railway tracks, roads, small towns, peripheries, accidental landscapes: all of them can become the starting point for a story. All it takes is a different way of looking. Perhaps that is exactly what literature is about: seeing that what we pass by every day is not obvious at all.
The meeting also showed that a conversation with an author allows us to enter a book from another side. You do not have to be a literary expert to take part in such events. You can simply come, listen, and see whether a given voice, style, and imagination are something you want to immerse yourself in. Sometimes one anecdote, one sentence, or one well-asked question is enough to make you reach for a book. Or to return to reading after a longer break.
This is exactly what “Literatura w Willi” is for: promoting reading, authors, and their works, as well as creating a space for conversation – attentive, open, and much needed. For years, Willa Decjusza has been building such places of encounter: between writers and readers, between text and experience, between literature and everyday life. It is not only about presenting books. It is about showing that literature is a living practice of conversation about the world.
Krzysztof Bielecki is currently a resident of the “Homines Urbani” programme at Willa Decjusza in Kraków, where he is working on his latest novel, “Krew werk”. This made the meeting not only an opportunity to talk about the author’s previous work, but also a chance to capture a moment of transition – between books, themes, and new ways of seeing.
Thank you to everyone who joined us at Potocki Palace. It is thanks to meetings like this that literature stops being a solitary experience and becomes a shared space of listening, questions, and discoveries.
Co-financed by the Minister of Culture and National Heritage from the Culture Promotion Fund.