Read an excerpt from At the Feet of Mothers by Adnan Mahmutovic

Today, I’m joining the DampPebbles blog tour for Adnan Mahmutovic’s novel At the Feet of Mothers. Read on for more about the book, an exclusive excerpt, and rave reviews about Mahmutovic’s previous works. (There are lots of those!) His first novel won the Cinnamon Press Debut Novel award. He has also published a book of short stories and other works. Much of his previous work centered on contemporary European history, particularly the aftermath of the Bosnian war of the 90s and Bosnian refugees. In At the Feet of Mothers, he turns his attention in a slightly different direction while still addressing issues of identity. Read on for more!

Tourists are Coming

(June 1997)

“You’re a cute little Cherokee,” the tourist lady said and pinched my cheek. “I love the eye-patch. Can I take a picture?”

Fucking tourists. They just had to ask it. Every time. A picture of a real Injun boy. Should I say I’m a fake? Not sure they’d care. I looked like an Indian and that was plenty. She was fat, this one, I remember. And she’d just come out of Joey’s Pancake. They all come to Maggie Valley to eat pancakes. And what else? See the reservation? Watch clogging? Take the kids to Ghost Town in the Sky? Take deep breaths in our woods? Nah, this one was here for the Golden Pancakes and Silver Dollar and Pecan and Chocolate-Chip and Sweet Potato. And she must have had Strawberry Roll-up. Or maybe not. Maybe they didn’t exist back when I was twelve.

I should’ve listened to my mother and not come down to Maggie during the tourist season. I really should’ve stayed in the woods and survive the Flood like Noah and his kin by staying on the top. It was always too damn hot in the valley anyway. But I was there and one thing was true, we mountain people were not rude. And we smiled at tourists even when we imagined coons nagging at their bones. At least my family did. The rest of the valley were just genuine tourist-loving bastards, I suppose. Yeah, they damn well were. So I smiled. Yes, I used to do that back then. A lot. And I said to her, “Where do you want me to stand?” T

The woman looked around and said, “Let’s see. Would be good if you stood against an old tree or something,” but there were no old trees on the parking lot so she said, “I suppose right here outside the pancake place is just as nice.”

I stretched my back, trying to look taller, like my mom and my sisters. They were tall all right, real tall. And Dad was quite tall too. I was short. It sucked being short and one-eyed. And it sucks that I’m still so damn short.

She said, “That’s great. Looking good … sorry, what was your name? I’m Laura.”

“I’m Joseph. Pleased to meet you Laura.”

“That’s a nice name. But do you have an Inj … Native American name?”

“This is my Injun name.” I loved saying Injun back then. They always smiled their awkward smiles when I did, and I’d say it way too many times for it to be so funny. For a second the fat lady looked reluctant to breathe, so I said, “I’m just joking. Sorry. I’m so rude. People call me Joseph, or Jo, or … but I’m really called Ani’ Tsa’guhi.”

She laughed. “You’re funny. Love your sense of humor.” She came closer and patted me on the shoulder. “And does it mean anything?”

“It means me.” Dear God, I loved the faces she was making. She laughed again, as if she had to. I felt I’d crossed the line there. I was raised right, after all. And the Valley had a reputation to live up to. But she wanted the experience, didn’t she? I wished I had my knife with some made-up signs I carved in the wood. I’d tell her those were Cherokee letters, and she’d go, Wow, beautiful. I felt this tickling in my stomach and I couldn’t tell if it was the excitement or my conscience, my dad’s laughter or my mother’s reprieve. Even now that I’m older I still don’t know. I guess it was a bit of both. Still is.

I said, “It means Bear Boy.”

“Ah, that is soooo cute. Bear Boy. Adorable.”

Purchase Links:

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/30C7joe

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/30FHYti

Cinnamon Press: https://bit.ly/2DQ37Ig

Book Depository: https://bit.ly/2DFZswN

Waterstones: https://bit.ly/3gHnyWr

Praise for Mahmutovic’s first novel Thinner Than a Hair on Amazon

Winner of the Cinnamon Press Debut Novel Award

“Engaging and extraordinary” –V.R. Gebbie, Amazon reviewer

“A true tour de force” –Omar Sabbagh, Amazon reviewer

“Adnan Mahmutovic is not the only Balkan writer to have written about the Yugoslav catastrophe of the nineties– Aleksandar Hemon and Tea Obreht are both gifted writers who have also done so–but Mahmutovic’s vision is the grittiest, the most vivid, the most realistic, and to my mind, the most compelling.” –Garry Craig Powell, Amazon reviewer

“Adnan Mahmutovic’s perhaps greatest literary feat here is the eradication of his own authorial voice and his successfully allowing Fatima to truly come alive on the pages, to have a voice all her own and breathe her words into our ears, as it were.”– Joakim Jahlmar, Amazon reviewer

“I will say it again: Mahmutovic is one to watch–keep your eyes on him, and mostly, read his work to see for yourself.” –Kathryn Magendie, Amazon reviewer

Goodreads praise for How to Fare Well and Stay Fair

“An enjoyable, engaging collection which explores the experiences of Bosnian refugees”–A. J. Ashworth

Goodreads praise for [Refuge]e

“This book is raw and true. It does not pretend to be anything other than what it is. It brings the confusion, and helplessness of the situation and I felt like I was being swept up in a tide (…). Truly fine work.”–Kathy, Goodreads reviewer

“The diction of [Refuge]e is smooth and elegant; though the book itself is quite short, the powerful messages it conveys linger even after I’ve put it down.” — Kayla, Goodreads reviewer