Excerpt from Free by Lea Ypi, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

In capitalism, people claimed to be free and equal, but this was only on paper, because only the rich could take advantage of the rights available. Capitalists had made their money by stealing land and plundering resources all over the world, and by selling black people as slaves. "Do you remember Black Boy?" teacher Nora explained when we read Richard Wright's autobiography in school. "In the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie, a poor black person cannot be free. The police are after him. The law works against him."

We had freedom for all, not just for the exploiters. We worked not for the capitalists but for ourselves, and we shared the products of our work. We didn't know greed or have to feel envy. Everyone's needs were satisfied, and the Party helped us develop our talents. If you were particularly gifted in maths, or dancing, or poetry, or whatever, you could go to the House of the Pioneers and find a science club, or a dancing group, or a literary circle in which to practise your skills.

"Can you imagine, if your parents lived in capitalism, they would have to pay for all these things," teacher Nora would say. "People work like dogs, and the capitalist doesn't even give them what they deserve, because, otherwise, how would he make a profit? Which means that part of the time they work for nothing, like the slaves in ancient Rome. For the other part, they receive a salary, and if they wanted their children to develop their talents, they would have to pay for private lessons, which of course they can't afford. What freedom is that?"

The tourists, however, could afford everything. When they visited, they found all they needed in the "valuta" shop, where only foreign currency could be used. The valuta shop was the place where dreams came true. Although—according to teacher Nora—they were not dreams but mere capitalist aspirations. The valuta shop was right next to the Museum for Heroes of the Resistance. Elona and I went to take a look at it each time we visited the museum with our school: on 11 January for the Anniversary of the Republic, on 10 February to commemorate the Youth Resistance to the Fascists, on 22 April for Lenin's birthday, on 1 May, on 5 May, on 10 July, when we celebrated the founding of the People's Army, on 16 October for Enver Hoxha's birthday, on 8 November for the Anniversary of the Party, and on 28 and 29 November for Independence. We called the woman who sat by the counter "the Medusa" because she had curly, unruly hair and a hostile look that made you freeze on the doorstep and think twice before entering. The Medusa always kept Zëri i Popullit on the counter, open to the same page, and stared at the entrance while munching sunflower seeds. She had an uneaten pile of seeds on the left side of the newspaper, and the shells of the seeds she had already eaten on the right side. She peeled and ate the seeds without looking, her eyes never leaving the entrance to the shop.

When we went inside, she said nothing, but she stopped munching. She stared at us in silence for a few minutes. Then, if it was winter, she would say: "What do you want here? Have you got any dollars? No. Then off you go. Close the door. It's cold." If it was summer, she would say: "What do you want here? Have you got any dollars? No. Then off you go. Leave the door open. It's hot." After that, she returned to munching her sunflower seeds.

We never left immediately. We stared at the objects on display. Coca-Cola cans to fill entire bookshelves, even after stripping them of all their books to make space. Roasted salted peanuts, which must have been like roasted salted sunflower seeds but even tastier—otherwise why would you only be able to buy them with dollars? A Philips colour television, which looked exactly like the one that belonged to the Meta family, the only people in my neighbourhood who had a colour TV. "Have you got tickets?" they joked each year on New Year's Day when around forty children sat in front of their Philips television to watch the Turkish version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. There was a black MZ motorbike, magnificently displayed at the centre of the shop; it occupied most of the space and forced you to walk around it to reach the counter, the same way you would have had to walk around Lenin's tomb in Moscow to reach the mausoleum exit. There was also a red bra with which Elona had fallen in love, even though she didn't have grown-up breasts. I liked the sun hat.

Excerpted from Free by Lea Ypi. Copyright © 2022 by Lea Ypi. Excerpted by permission of W.W. Norton & Company. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.