Cudowna Melina (Wonderful Drinking Den) by Kazimierz Orłoś is an interesting case of a book that requires a certain knowledge of its times to be fully appreciated. Written in Communist Poland (1971), it is, to say the least, schematic. You can almost guess the pattern: an idealistic young party apparatchik comes to town and cleans it up, rooting out the corrupt and the bourgeois, in an object lesson in socialist morality. Except that in Orłoś’s version of the tale it is the party apparatchiks that are cynical, corrupt and greedy. The new broom is not the local party secretary but the chairman of the town council – and he fails miserably in his attempt to reform the town and break up the cliques. Not only that, but he is generally unpopular, earning the nickname “Chrystusek” (Little Jesus) because he will not take bribes or even a drink.

That this outwardly formulaic book is in fact a parody is signalled on the back cover by later, helpful reviewers but there are hints within as well. One of them is the remarkable fact that there are funny bits in it. Take for instance the description of Sergeant Zenon Olszewski: “He was known for the implacable position he took with regard to the hooligan elements that did not observe order and discipline in our town. He was particularly attentive to the matter of correctly crossing the road.” So incorruptible is Olszewski that when people try to go over his head to Major Popielak the major can only wring his hands and say “There’s nothing I can do… The policeman is within his rights,” which must have brought a bitter smile to Poles of the times.

It also illustrates the usefulness of parody: no need to immerse oneself in the real socialist realist literature when books like this serve as both entertainment and literary handbooks. I also cannot help wonder if Orłoś was also taking a swipe at “dirty realism” too, of the type found in Hłasko and Nowakowski. At one point a hippy turns up in town. This harmless stranger is introduced, described and inevitably beaten up and run out of town in just three and a half short pages.

Although the satire is quite broad – the establishment is totally rotten with almost no redeeming features at all – there are some excellent small touches, as when the party secretary books a table in a café but does not deign to say for how many. The owner, in turn, does not dare to ring back and ask.

Cudowna Melina fell foul of the censor and was published in Paris in 1973. Orłoś was banned from publishing for the rest of the existence of the People’s Republic of Poland with the exception of a short period in 1980-1981.