unpacking freedom: free by Lea Ypi
- Bebhinn Flanagan
- May 3
- 3 min read
There I was: slightly sunburnt ☀️, very salty, sitting by the sea in Dhermi with a dog-eared copy of Free by Lea Ypi in one hand and a half-melted Aperol spritz in the other.
The Albania in front of me was all turquoise water and cocktail-sipping bliss. The Albania in Ypi’s memoir? Not so much.
Cue cognitive dissonance.
reading a place from the inside out
I’ve got a bit of a habit: when I travel, I try to read books by local authors. It’s like borrowing someone else’s eyes for a while. The stories, the rhythm, the references I’d never see in TripAdvisor reviews – all of it pulls back the curtain. And when it works, it’s pure magic.
With Free, it was more like a sucker punch 🥊. Lea Ypi unpacks her childhood in communist Albania with a critical awareness yet surprising tenderness. Her story isn’t just about her life; it’s about what happens when an entire worldview crumbles.
It’s about freedom. The word. The myth. The many, many versions of it.
freedom is messy (and not just in Albania)
Ypi’s memoir walks you through Albania’s whiplash transition from rigid communism to unfettered capitalism. One day, loyalty to the state. The next? Bring on the black market and private property.
As a child, she believed in the system. Everyone did. Or rather, they pretended to. It’s chilling – this idea that kids can swallow whole the ideology around them, while the adults must perform loyalty like it’s theatre, just with very real-life consequences.
The children, on the other hand, were systematically turned against their parents and taught to spy on them and report their deviations. (1984, George Orwell)
When the regime collapsed, so did the illusion. But what replaced it wasn’t exactly the freedom Ypi (or anyone) had been promised. Democracy arrived with debt, migration, mobsters, and disappointment. Turns out, freedom had a price tag – and people didn't pay the price equally.
meanwhile, in modern-day Dhermi
The bunkers are still here – stoic, silent – but now they share the stage with beach loungers and luxury hotels. Albania is learning to market itself, and tourism is the new showcase.
And why not? It brings money, development, and a way out of the economic dislocation that Ypi writes about so vividly. But as with any shiny new system, not everyone gets a seat at the table. The promise of prosperity doesn’t always trickle down. Some win. Some serve. Some watch the story get repackaged – this time with pool access.
And I find myself wondering: where do I sit in this tale? By being here, Aperol in hand, am I part of the solution – or just another guest buying the edited version? I suspect both.
books that bend time and space
There’s something trippy about reading a memoir in situ. Especially one as layered as Free. You’re travelling through one Albania while reading about another, trying to stitch together the past and the present with only a towel, a book 📕, and a cold drink to help you.
Ypi’s prose is gorgeously sharp – part political theory, part personal truth. She doesn’t let any ideology off the hook. And somehow, despite the weighty themes, it never drags. Her writing is light on its feet, even when it’s heavy on the heart.
Free didn’t just teach me about Albania; it made me rethink what freedom means, full stop. It reminded me that every system comes with its own blind spots and baggage – and that staying curious and critical always matters.
your turn
So now I’m curious: what’s the book that changed your view of a place? Did it deepen your love? Crack an illusion? Make you book a flight? Let me know below.
Turas maith,
Bebs
Comments