Interview: Andrei Kurkov
Andrei
Kurkov, novelist, essayist and screenwriter, is arguably the most recognized
post-Soviet writer in Europe. Many of his
25 books have been translated into various languages. For example, his 1996
novel Death and the Penguin, a black comedy set in contemporary Kyiv, is
available in 11 languages.
His
screenplay for A Friend of the Deceased was nominated for the 1997 European
Film Award.
Kurkov calls
Kyiv, where he has lived since childhood, home, but now spends much time in London, England (his wife, whom
he married in 1988, is British). A regular speaker at international book fairs,
Kurkov is an ambassador for Ukrainian literature in the global arena.
Yet, Kurkov
writes his novels in Russian, was born in St.
Petersburg in 1961 and has Russian ancestry.
Nevertheless, he corrects anyone who refers to him as a Russian writer. He regards himself as a Ukrainian.
Last month,
Kurkov delivered the 13th annual J.B. Rudnyckyj Distinguished Lecture at the University of Manitoba. While he
was in Canada, The New Pathway’s
Olena Wawryshyn spoke to Kurkov about national identity, literature and
politics in Ukraine.
NP: You write in Russian, yet
refer to yourself as a Ukrainian writer. What does it mean to you to be a
Ukrainian writer?
AK: I write
fiction in Russian, but I write essays and journalism in Russian, Ukrainian,
English and German. It is a question of mentality, self-identification and
maybe pragmatic patriotism. We have a lot of professional patriots who are
defending the ethnic idea and I’m defending the state idea. For me, patriotism
should be state patriotism, not only ethnic patriotism.
NP: What are the common
characteristics of Ukrainian literature?
AK: Contemporary
Ukrainian literature is quite apolitical. Ukrainian writers like Yuri
Andrukhovych, Sergei Zhadan and Lubko Deresh are, in principle, against
Ukrainian politics. They don’t want to have anything to do with politics, the
state, the establishment. It is slowly changing now because the new government
has a better image. Writers like Oksana Zabuzhko have agreed to work on the
cultural commission under President Yushchenko.
I write on political [themes],
describing inventive or exaggerated events with the real Ukraine as the
setting.
Ukrainian literature is also
very original in its essence because we have a very good group of writers in
western Ukraine...But, we
don’t have young literature of a national level nor enough young, active
writers. We have maybe 20 writers who are regularly published.
NP: When you say literature of a
“national level” do you mean that’s read across the country?
AK: Yes. Until
now all the literature in the Ukrainian language has been considered Ukrainian
literature. Yet, half of Ukraine speaks
Russian and there are 400,000 Crimean Tatars in Ukraine. Literature
in Ukrainian is read only in central and western Ukraine and by
Ukrainian intellectuals in the other regions. But, the eastern and southern
parts of Ukraine are
Russian-speaking and they read books imported from Russia.
The Crimean Tatars have about 80
poets and writers who write in the Tatar language. Their books are not
translated into Russian or Ukrainian.
Ukraine has 48
million people. The average print-run of the best Ukrainian writer, like
Andrukhovych, will probably be 3,000 copies, and he is read mostly by intellectuals
and the younger generation, the students.
NP: Why do you think there are
so few young Ukrainian writers?
AK: From 1991,
the government was not interested in promoting young Ukrainian writers. The old
Ukrainian literature of the Soviet time was gone immediately. The vacuum that appeared was taken over by
Russian publishers and Russian books, and the new Ukrainian literature was
somehow ignored and pushed to the margin of cultural life.
But, there was an excellent
breakthrough last year, when seven books by young Ukrainian writers were
published in Poland by Polish
publishing houses. One of these novels, Collection of Passions, by Natalka
Sniadanka, became a bestseller in Poland….It’s a
story about a young Galician girl from a very conservative family in today’s
Lviv and her love for a German. It’s a very interesting picture of youth life
and generational conflict.
NP: You’ve often said Ukraine lacks a book
distribution system and publishers are not promoting Ukrainian books enough.
How can the situation be improved?
AK: The
distribution is still in a very bad state. We have 550 towns with 15,000 people
where there are no bookshops. What can be done? The state ministry of education
could promote Ukrainian literature. We need propaganda for Ukrainian literature
inside the country, literary festivals and more local book fairs. I was
involved in organizing the first small-town book fair in Ukraine in Zhytomyr
three years ago.
Now, we are a team of about ten
writers, between 30 and 45 years old, who travel around Ukraine, organizing
different events like gala readings. For example, for three hours, we replace
shop sellers in bookshops–the writers sell their and other writers’ books. This
has become very popular.
NP: What is it about your books
that appeals to European readers?
AK: Black
humour, normal humour, irony, elements of surrealism and the optimistic
attitude of my books. Russian authors like Vladimir Serokin and Victor Pelanin
were translated. But their novels are quite grim and depressive. The ordinary
reader does not want to read black stuff. At the same time, the Western reader
is curious about post-Soviet life. I
often describe tragic situations, but not in a depressed way. It makes my
stories more acceptable.
NP: In addition to the Ukrainian
writers you’ve already mentioned, which others are noteworthy?
AK: Maria Matios
wrote a novel called Solodka Darusia: I love it. It is a story of one
girl, and three generations of one family living in Bukovyna on the border with
Romania. Matios got
a state literary prize for it a year ago. Another writer is Taras Prohasko. [He
writes in] a very specific style. He writes short sentences that are very
direct, precise. In Ukraine, there’s a
tradition of very emotional and sentimental literature. But, his fiction has
almost no emotions, a lot of philosophy.
It’s completely different than anything else that is being written in Ukraine and he has a
good number of followers among the students in western Ukraine.
NP: You recently gave a lecture in Winnipeg. What are
your impressions of Canada and
Ukrainian-Canadians?
AK: I spent two
days in Toronto in 2001
where I had book-signing sessions and a public reading. In Toronto, I met a lot
of representatives of the younger generation who spoke very good Ukrainian, and
these young people were very well educated. When I spoke to the Winnipeg
Ukrainians, I noticed that many of them don’t speak Ukrainian.
I had expected some aggressive
questions from the audience because I had such experiences with the Ukrainian
diaspora in France and Germany. There, I
met a lot of people who would not accept me as a Ukrainian writer because I am
of Russian origin and I write in Russian.
There was no question like this from the Winnipeg audience.
Canadian-Ukrainians seem much friendlier than the Western European Ukrainians
and maybe more liberal.
At the Elizabeth Dafoe Library,
at the University of Manitoba, I had a
look at the books in the Slavic Collection that were published in Canada by Ukrainians.
A part of Ukrainian culture and history immigrated with people to Canada. I received a book by poet Petro Karmansky and
books by Yurij Kosach. It’s very interesting to see what Karmansky writes about
Ukrainians and Ruthenians who went to America and how he
defended the Ukrainian language in Canada against
Americanization.
In Canada, I learned
there was an official document accepted with the Ukrainian [community’s]
support dealing with multiculturalism, in Canada. It is a
good idea that could probably be accepted by the Ukrainian state. It would help
to consolidate the country and the nation, for the Russian speakers and other
minorities to not feel excluded.
NP: What are your thoughts on
the Orange Revolution’s
legacy?
AK: The situation
today is a result of several serious mistakes by Yushchenko’s team. In Kuchma’s
time, western Ukraine was
purposely ignored. Kuchma believed he could not really influence the mood and
attitude of Western Ukrainians towards Kyiv
or his government. After the Orange Revolution, Yushchenko, instead of fighting
to promote his ideas in the eastern part of Ukraine, decided to
ignore the east and south. He didn’t even prosecute those who were organizing
falsifications in those regions. Now these people are [running for] parliament,
in the main lists of the opposition part, and [if they are elected] he won’t be
able to prosecute them.
Also, I think Yushchenko had a
personnel problem. He had a lot of people who supported him, and he felt
obliged to give them high positions in the Cabinet of Ministers and in his
administration, and they were not fit for the job.
He obviously didn’t have a ready
plan for the whole of Ukraine, so the
revolution was more a protest against the old, corrupt Ukraine, than the
beginning of the construction of a new Ukraine.
NP: What about the future?
AK: After the
[March 26] elections, the local council in eastern and southern Ukraine will be run
by ex-Kuchma people and in central and western by Orange politicians.
We should try to keep the population politically engaged to a maximum. The
ordinary people should be educated that they are capable of controlling their
local councils and authorities. If they are not happy with the things going on
in their town or village they should look for alternative political parties to
support.
With the political reforms, Ukraine will now be
a parliamentary presidential republic so the local councils and authorities
will in a way be much more important and influential locally and in the regions
than the authorities in Kyiv.
The main goal of the Orange
Revolution was achieved. People understood that they can influence politics and
the situation in the country. I’m quite hopeful about the future.