So go ahead. Search for it. Download it. And remember: “Ne mogu vjerovati da već imam 13 i tri četvrtine godine, a da još nisam postao slavan.” (I can’t believe I’m already 13 and three-quarters and still haven’t become famous.)

Adrian worries about his spotty skin, his undying love for the elusive Pandora Braithwaite, the threat of a nuclear war (the Falklands War context), and his creative writing block. He is simultaneously pretentious and clueless, self-absorbed yet endearing.

The book’s genius lies in its format: a diary. Each entry is dated, giving readers the illusion of peeking into someone’s most private thoughts. The humor stems from the gap between what Adrian thinks is happening (grand tragedy, intellectual superiority) and what is actually happening (his mother is having an affair with Mr. Lucas, his father is a disillusioned manual worker, and his best friend is an anarchist). When “Tajni Dnevnik Adrijana Mola” was published in Serbo-Croatian (the common language before the 1990s breakup), it was not merely a translation. It was a localization masterclass .

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