Martin Reiner on hidden Brno district that became “oasis of freedom” – and end of his successful publishers
A relatively little known but highly distinctive Brno district is the subject of Kamenka Republic, a new book edited by writer and publisher Martin Reiner. Speaking from the Moravian capital, he explains what makes Kamenka special – and why it has survived for a century when other interwar workers’ housing “colonies” in Brno have long disappeared. Reiner also discusses why he is calling time on Druhé město, one of the most significant Czech publishing houses of recent decades.
You’re behind a new publication called Republika Kamenka, or Kamenka Republic. The name Kamenka comes from Kamenná kolonie, which translates as Stone Colony. For those who don’t know this part of Brno, what is Kamenka?
“Kamenka is a former ‘nouzová kolonie’, which I would translate as ‘emergency colony’.
“But I’m not sure if a similar phenomenon ever existed in England and if English has an adequate term for it.
“And what makes Kamenka unique is the simple fact that it has remained almost the unchanged until the present day, so that’s specific.”
You’re going to have to explain what an emergency colony is. What does that mean even?
“These colonies appeared mostly in large cities such as Prague and Brno in the 1920s.
“It was a response to the housing and later economic crisis in the First Republic: Black Friday and so on.
“They were mostly built on the outskirts of the cities, or in places such as Kamenka, which was a former quarry.
“These colonies appeared in cities such as Prague and Brno in the 1920s. It was a response to the housing and later economic crisis in the First Republic.”
Martin Reiner
“Most of the dwellings were shabby and improvised – and in Brno alone there were 17 of them.
“And I would say that Kamenka was one of the best among these emergency colonies.”
Wasn't it the case that they were unauthorised, that the people who built the houses didn’t have permits or anything like that?
“Yes, the rumours say that, but it’s not true [laughs]. That’s one of the discoveries of our book.
“Kamenka in particular was a legal colony, at least in the beginning of its existence; the first 45 houses were legal.
“But later on relatives and people who knew the inhabitants saw that the place was quite nice – definitely much nicer and better for living than some flats that you would find in poor quarters of the city.
“So they started to build their own houses illegally. It’s a mixture.”
In the description of the book the place is called unique and also the title includes the word republic. In what sense is or was Kamenka a republic, or a special place?
“Kamenka was a special place because it was inhabited by workers mostly from the lower professions.
“Not only this, they were often accompanied by the, well, dregs of society [laughs], including thieves and prostitutes.
“It was well known that it was better to avoid Kamenka.”
Martin Reiner
“It was well known that it was better to avoid Kamenka, not only for the kids – they were fighting, between different groups – but also for policemen and others.
“It’s even said that Kamenka had its own mayor. That’s probably untrue, but it shows that Kamenka was a very special place.
“I don’t know who was the first to call it a republic, but it describes the situation – they were outside the rest of the city and they were specific.”
Was it easy to avoid Kamenka? I’ve actually been there – some years ago somebody took me there – and it was really fascinating, but you wouldn’t find it unless you were looking for it.
“And that’s probably the main reason why Kamenka survived until nowadays.
“Because in the 1930s the city tried to demolish these colonies, mostly successfully, so that after the war only a few remained and I think there are only three emergency colonies left in Brno.
“But the thing is, Kamenka is the only one where new, young people are moving in – and it is proving to be a great place to live today [laughs].”
And who lives there? You say in the beginning it was workers and poor people and prostitutes. How did that change over the years? I’m particularly interested in the later decades of the communist period – who was living there then?
“That’s what kind of created the reputation of Kamenka for the people who are moving there nowadays.
“Because in the early ‘70s Kamenka was in a very bad condition and there were various plans as to what should replace it, or even for its complete demolition.
“But – which is funny, and typical for Kamenka – before any of this could be implemented the colony became home to many unorthodox artists, who occupied mainly its higher parts.
“They bought half-decayed houses very cheaply and then repaired them themselves.
“Unorthodox artists bought half-decayed houses cheaply and repaired them themselves. And they were happily joined by their long-haired friends.”
Martin Reiner
“And [laughs] they were happily joined by their long-haired friends. Then many spectacular parties took place there.
“This is the period when Kamenka was rightly called an oasis or island of freedom – because of these people.
“Today according to sociological research 67 percent of the people living in a place where in the past most of the inhabitants were barely literate now have a college education. That’s well above the national average.
“So it has changed completely.”
How did it change after 1989? What state was it in then? Is it hard to get a place there?
“I was often a visitor at Kamenka in the early ‘90s and I have a feeling that it was like Kamenka was waiting to see what was going to happen next.
“As you probably know, the ‘90s in the Czech Republic was a pretty wild time. Everything went through changes.
“And Kamenka was different before, but I think that suddenly this exceptional situation of a kind of liberty during normalisation suddenly didn’t stand out, because everything was liberated.
“So the ‘90s even in Kamenka were wild, all the parties continued – that was great.
“But I think it took maybe a decade before it changed and started a new era of its existence, with students coming, young people buying houses, and more culture.
“It started to be a little bit more organised [laughs].”
You’ve kind of hinted at it already, but what’s the reason that you’re doing a book right now, Martin?
“The reason is simple: Kamenka is celebrating 100 years of existence right this year.
“My friend, the architect Radim Horák, who has lived in Kamenka for over 20 years, has always been interested in the history of the place.
“He knew that I knew Kamenka well. And I’m still kind of a writer [laughs], so he told me, Let’s make a book – let’s make a gift to Kamenka to celebrate this 100-year history.
“And not only to celebrate it, but also to map this entire history.
“So the book has been written. It has 300 pages and moreover 170 photographs and various documents, so I think people will like it. I hope so [laughs].”
Speaking of books, I also wanted to ask you a couple of other questions. One pertains to the fact that last year you were the subject of a book-length interview. The book was simply called Reiner and you were interviewed by Milan Ohnisko. Is it my imagination, or is the format of a book-length interview something very common in Czechia?
“I don’t know actually. Do you think?”
Well it doesn’t really exist very much in the English-speaking world. There was one with Nick Cave a couple of years ago, but that’s unusual. Here there are many every year.
“Yes. But probably not many of them are as big as mine.”
Yours is 500 pages or something, right?
“That’s terrible. Terrible.
“Well, we did an interview, much shorter, for the literary magazine Tvar where Milan Ohnisko is an editor.
“Tvar are really able to do long interviews, if you consider the usual length of an interview in a magazine.
“So we did one of them, 10 years ago, and we were both satisfied.
“The thing is Milan Ohnisko is my long-term friend, we know each other from the end of the ‘80s.
“Then Milan started to do interviews with celebrities, for my publishing house. He did one with Daniela Drtinová, he did one with [David] Koller, the musician, and then he then planned to do an interview with Libuše Šafránková, which would have been great.
“But she told him she was sorry but Josef Abrhám, her husband, was in bad condition and she said she had to take care of him – and then she died, even sooner than Josef Abrhám.
“So Milan was kind of looking for the next one [laughs] who would be willing to do an interview.
“I told him no twice, but then I agreed and I’m glad that I did, because I don’t have to write my memoirs any more. And that would be much more difficult than saying things like this in the form of an interview.”
Again sticking with books, you’re probably best known I guess as the person behind the publishing company Druhé město, or Second City. Over the last three or three and a half decades you’ve brought out about 600 books. But now you’re going to call it a day with the publishing house, is that right?
“Yes, it’s like this. Druhé město is ending its regular publishing activities.
“Because I felt that it has no sense, either editorially or economically. I haven’t quite excluded the possibility of publishing a book here and there. I know how to do it [laughs], so this could happen.
“In the early ‘90s I felt publishing almost like a vocation, something that has to be done after the years and years of the communist regime.”
Martin Reiner
“But after 35 years running a publishing house I think this stage of my life is somehow over.
“And I definitely want to return to my own writing quite intensively next year.
“You know, I’m 61 and no-one knows how long my mind will continue to serve me well, so I feel it’s necessary not to miss the opportunity to at least try to do something interesting again in that field.
“So I will be a writer once again [laughs].”
I must say I have a lot of respect for you for putting so much energy into publishing for so long. How do you think you will look back over those decades of publishing?
“What I can say is that in the early ‘90s I felt it almost like a vocation, like something that has to be done after the years and years of the communist regime.
“From the years before the Velvet Revolution I knew all these banned writers, so there was a way to do it in a way that made sense.
“And that was nice. Then I met [best-selling novelist] Michal Viewegh, which created money.
“That allowed me to make it a little bit larger, to cooperate with more people, so we became a publishing house with quite a great importance, I think.
“And, well, the last five, six, seven years… first there was Covid, which was not a good time but for publishers it was a very bad time with the closure of bookshops, and then we had the energy crisis and inflation.
“Also there has been, I would say, some shift in the reception of literature in the Czech Republic.
“And I didn’t want to even think that I would change my editing policies just to be up to date.
“For more than 30 years I did what I loved to do and when it stopped making sense I decided just to close the house. But I don’t think anything like it’s a pity.
“There has been, I would say, some shift in the reception of literature in the Czech Republic.”
Martin Reiner
“You know, 35 years is a long, long time. I’ve always loved to read the memoirs of people from older times and it’s not so long ago that I read two memoirs by publishers, publishers who became very famous between the wars.
“I realised, that was only 20 years, they only had 20 years to do something right and to become famous, though that’s not the important thing.
“And that’s exactly what happened. There were publishing houses the existence of which lasted 12 years, let’s say.
“So I think 35 years is a very, very long time.
“I believe that even you feel that the ‘90s were not the same as the present time. Things change.”
