At book fairs, the whole business starts with introductions. In my case there are usually two scenarios: 

Pachyan was one of the first names I came across once I made the life-changing decision to become the first Armenian literary agent. In those days I read incessantly, was easily impressed and then disappointed, disgusted and sometimes amazed, interested and even indifferent. The not-so-long list of titles I selected very soon became a very short-list of those I considered internationally attractive. Pachyan was central among them and now, almost eight years later, still is.

Pachyan’s language and style are exquisite, tending to balance literary “correct” Armenian and modern slang, and reflecting the current realities. But what makes the novel a potential success is that it touches upon the inner world of individuals in their confrontation against their communities. This kind of struggle is typical to all humans and is not limited to ethnic or religious groups. We are all, in one way or another, fighting to stay loyal to ourselves.

After I read the manuscript of Goodbye, Bird, it didn’t let me go for many months. I kept living with the characters, and caught myself trying to solve my own inner struggles through their personalities. Not long after, I could see myself representing this complicated and puzzling book to the world. But once the decision was taken, the implementation of the plan turned out to be a daunting challenge.

Now, let me tell you what is so special about Goodbye, Bird and what it means to promote Aram Pachyan’s work.

With the words “This is not a plot driven book,” I save myself from a lot of trouble, take a deep breath and push ahead. Who are the protagonists or main characters of the book? Well, there is a story I usually tell and this is how it goes: When we were discussing the novel with the author and the English translator, opinions were divided. Were there two protagonists? Or three? Or  maybe just one, as the author himself stated. Were these different characters with their own personal histories or a story of one person’s transformation effected by two years in compulsory military service?

“No, this is not a book about the army,” the author had to explain many times when being interviewed by local media. The army is a taboo topic in Armenia and you can’t be too critical about it when you live in a country stuck in a long-lasting or rather never-ending war with your neighbour. But well, again, this is not a book about the army, it is simply a metaphor for a repressed society, a closed community.

When you hear yourself telling a publisher about the three protagonists in the novel (the debate ended up with the number three), you are initially concerned that they won’t be as captivating as the Three Comrades by Remarque or the three friends from Hogwarts, a far cry from the Three Musketeers or any other group of three that appears in literature. These three could easily fit into one of Tarantino’s blockbusters, or a Stanley Kubrik film.

One of the characters in Goodbye, Bird is a sadistic second year soldier, bullying everybody along with his minions who follow his commands. This ‘inglorious bastard’ takes out a copy of Madame Bovary from under his mattress and begins to discuss it with a newly arrived soldier, most probably the writer himself. The other character is “Micky” who unlike the cartoon character he has been named after, has no friends, not even a duck with incomprehensible speech. All he has is the miserable job of cleaning toilets. And then there is the third protagonist, whose diary reveals stories about his life in and out of the army. But nothing is as simple as it appears. Because apparently the author of the diary has committed suicide.

The reading of Goodbye, Bird is a struggle, a struggle with the text, words and notions. It is a struggle with the unbearable emotions of the characters, it is a prediction of the next eye-opening reality of life, which you knew but never wanted to admit.

“I reread the book when it was published. Oh, my God, not even one sober word in it,” admitted the author when we were driving to a discussion of the novel with readers, sometime after its presentation. Then he added, “But there isn't a single word that isn’t in its place and purposeful, at least for myself.”