Introduction

What happens when a dream becomes a mirror, reflecting not only our ambitions but our deepest insecurities? Tea with the Queen by Evald Flisar invites readers into a nuanced journey of artistic longing, cultural displacement, and personal reckoning. Set against the backdrop of 1960s London, this novel is a quiet, introspective exploration of what it means to chase a dream—and what we might lose or find along the way. For anyone who has ever felt like an outsider or questioned their place in the world, Flisar’s novel offers a profound and poetic meditation on belonging, identity, and self-worth.

About the Author

Evald Flisar is one of Slovenia’s most celebrated and widely translated authors. A novelist, playwright, editor, and former president of the Slovene Writers’ Association, his works have reached readers in over 40 languages. Flisar is known for weaving existential themes with sharp social commentary and psychological depth. His writing often explores the nature of selfhood, belonging, and the tension between internal desire and external expectations—topics that resonate deeply in today’s globalized, shifting world.

Writing Style

Flisar’s prose is intelligent and introspective, but never inaccessible. He combines philosophical inquiry with poetic nuance and a gentle sense of irony. His stories often feel personal, yet universally relevant, inviting readers into layered inner landscapes. In Tea with the Queen, Flisar uses a contemplative tone and slow-build narrative to mirror the protagonist's own process of realization and growth.

Overview of the Book

Set in 1969, Tea with the Queen follows Vili Vaupotič, a young and ambitious Slovenian painter who leaves his home behind and travels to London. Like many artists before him, he carries a romanticized dream: to make a name for himself, to have his artwork displayed in a prestigious gallery—perhaps even to be invited for tea with the Queen herself.

London, however, has different plans. What Vili finds is a bustling, often impersonal city, filled with immigrants, eccentrics, bureaucrats, and skeptics. Instead of immediate recognition, he encounters confusion, rejection, and deep introspection. As the cultural dissonance grows louder, Vili is forced to reckon with the question: is the dream worth what it demands?

Through encounters with fellow outsiders and soul-searching moments in the shadows of an indifferent metropolis, Vili begins to examine not only his dreams but his own identity, heritage, and the deep human need for validation.

What Makes This Book Unique

What sets Tea with the Queen apart is how honestly and subtly it portrays the immigrant’s inner world. While many stories focus on the external obstacles of life abroad, Flisar turns his lens inward. He examines the psychological cost of ambition and the struggle to retain authenticity in the face of external expectations.

The book resists clichés about “making it big” and instead provides a more sobering, contemplative journey—one that is ultimately more satisfying. Vili’s story becomes a metaphor for anyone who has chased a dream, only to find the world doesn’t always cooperate the way we hoped.

The setting of 1960s London also adds a unique charm: a vibrant city still redefining itself in a post-war world, offering both opportunity and alienation. Through Vili’s eyes, we see a world full of contrasts—freedom and isolation, creativity and doubt, beauty and disappointment.

Who Should Read It

This book will speak to:

• Readers who enjoy slow-paced, character-driven literary fiction
• Artists and creatives questioning the price of their ambitions
• Immigrants and expats who’ve felt the tension between home and “abroad”
• Fans of introspective, philosophical novels with emotional depth
• Anyone who appreciates cross-cultural storytelling with a universal human core

Tea with the Queen isn’t just a story about a painter in a foreign city—it’s a meditation on dreams, displacement, and self-worth. With gentle brilliance, Flisar reminds us that success may not always look like we imagined—and that the search for belonging can sometimes teach us more than the destination itself.