The surest way to learn what makes any given society really tick (except for, maybe, getting a one-way plane ticket and spending some time discovering the country for oneself) is through its storytelling. Just as Ukrainian society has spent far too many centuries in the shadow of Russian imperialism, Ukrainian literature has been hidden away from most of the outside world, overshadowed by the well-marketed cultural behemoth that is Russian literature. As a result of Russia’s well-financed cultural expansion, everyone from college professors and teenage TikTok bloggers can tell you at least a little about the grandiose novels of Tolstoy, the cruel and unusual kinds of suffering Dostoyevsky inflicted on his miserable characters, and the mysteries of Bulgakov. We all know what Russian literature feels like, even those of us who never cared to actually read it. But what is Ukrainian literature all about? What hidden gems have been tucked away (or, often, purposefully belittled, destroyed and erased from the history books) from the international reader? And, more importantly, where should you start your journey of discovering it?
As a new week starts and Kyiv wilts a little under this summer’s last heatwave, I’ve taken the liberty of compiling a little list of authors and books that might get you started on a wonderful journey of literary discovery. It’s eclectic, utterly non-exhaustive, and more than a little haphazard: two of the authors mentioned are pretty much the creators of our national and civic identity, while the third one is so alive and well that he’s currently performing at fundraisers with his rock band. But if you know three Ukrainian authors, I genuinely believe it should be these ones. They can give you a taste of Ukraine’s past struggles as well as its hopeful future – and all of them have decent translations into English.
Today we’ll start with the man fondly known as Kobzar (a kobzar is a traditional Ukrainian folk bard who mainly performs historical epics about the olden days) – Taras Shevchenko.
The man. The artist. The myth. The poet. The national hero and all-round legend. Every school kid knows his face and can probably quote a line of two of his poems. There are at least several monuments to him in every major Ukrainian city, and probably at least a street named after him in most smaller towns and villages. You seriously can’t overstate Shevchenko’s influence. No, seriously.
Ukraine’s best-known poet (although the word really doesn’t do him justice – he’s more of a national prophet) was born in 1814 into serfdom and spent most of his childhood and teenage years in poverty, serving various abusive masters and desperately trying to somehow educate himself. As a young boy, Shevchenko had an incredible talent as a painter, and once his master noticed his skills with a paintbrush, he reluctantly allowed him to practice drawing – at night, after all chores for the day had been done, that is. Despite everything, word of Shevchenko’s skill got out, and the young prodigy attracted the attention of St. Petersburg’s leading artists. Karl Bryullov, who was by then a famous painter, donated his own work to a raffle, and bought Shevchenko his freedom with the proceeds. I know, I know, that’s an incredibly dramatic story – and we haven’t even gotten to his literary career!
While working as a painter for the Russian Empire’s Academy of Arts, Shevchenko finally got permission to travel back to Ukraine, where he promptly started meeting with the members of the Brotherhood of Saints Cyril and Methodius – a secret society devoted to reviving the Ukrainian language, as well as making the entire Russian Empire a little more liberal and democratic. Obviously, the secret society didn’t stay secret for long, and soon the authorities were investigating its members, including Shevchenko. Influenced by the Brotherhood’s ideas (as well as his own experiences as a Ukrainian living under the oppressive Russian regime), Shevchenko wrote an explosive, scathing poem (‘Dream’) which openly mocked both the Tsar and his wife, criticized Russian Imperialism and fondly remembered Ukraine’s heritage. It was also written in Ukrainian – a language that the Russian government had tried very hard to suppress, especially from the written page. The Tsar personally read the poem after Shevchenko’s arrest, and demanded a harsh sentence for the artist – exile to Ural without the right to write or paint. While in exile and under constant surveillance, Shevchenko still found a way to both write and paint by hiding a tiny notebook in his boot.
The writer was eventually pardoned, but although his life’s story had a fairy tale beginning, it was destined to have a tragic end. Long years of exile and manual labor had taken a toll on Shevchenko’s health, and, soon after returning to Ukraine and buying a small plot of land of his own, he was once again arrested and charged with blasphemy. He spent the last years of his life unable to return to his beloved homeland, and died at the age of 47, leaving behind a truly tremendous body of work which challenged social inequality, criticized the Russian Empire and its constant conquests, and openly spoke about Ukraine’s own history. A week after Shevchenko died, the abolition of serfdom finally began.
So where to start with Shevchenko? I definitely suggest starting with ‘Testament’ – a short poem detailing the poet’s desire to return to his homeland (even if coming home is only possible in a casket) and his hope that future generations of Ukrainians will continue the good fight for their country’s independence. There are countless translations, but I am partial to John Weir’s version.