T. Prochaska’s book “The Extraordinary” (translated into Lithuanian by Vytas Dekšnys, published by the publishing house “Aukso žuvys”) is often called one of the most important Ukrainian works of this century.
In this book, he tells the story of the Carpathians, and he does so by interweaving reality with a magical sense of reality, boldly crossing boundaries. Enveloping the reader in a melancholic fog or indulging in insanely funny episodes.
We talk with the writer not only about his work, means of expression, specific sense of the history of the inhabitants of Central Europe, but also about the current importance of the work of Ukrainian writers or why Europeans are so attracted to Russian culture.
– The first question in this interview, although we will mainly talk about literature, of course, is not related to books. Is it easy to talk about books now, during the war? I ask because, even at the Frankfurt Book Fair, many Ukrainian writers are first asked about their relations with Russia, how the war affected their lives. Literature seems to become less important in times of war. Or maybe just the opposite, it acquires another, far more important and even more sacred meaning? How are your narratives, and perhaps even their forms, changing at this point?
– In fact, the question of the expediency and significance of literature in the face of war is only a problem of authors that plagues the community of writers. Basically, it has to do with guilt related to the degree of involvement. Writers divided into different groups, formed according to the degree of their own participation in military service, documenting testimonies, propaganda of the external Ukrainian issue, etc. Fighting against Russian culture and publicizing that fight in the world is one of the most accessible ways to feel like a “cultural front fighter”.
Of course, now the situation is the most favorable for spreading the voice of Ukrainians. Right now I want to talk more about what happened before the war, not about military actions and experiences. About what our collective pre-war memory is. About how we imagine what we have lost forever and how we imagine the near future. How to combine both pre-war, war and post-war projects into a logical and sensory series of natural sequence.
– This book also contains uncomfortable, shocking topics. That is why we already read about incest in the first pages. Did you want to provoke people, to show that everything is permissible in literature, or was there some other goal? Because a number of reviewers note exactly this topic.
– Here, incest is just a metaphor for the pursuit of maximum homogeneity of the species, the concept of love, which is a multiplicity of one love, something like Pygmalion. The fact that certain reviewers take these things too literally testifies – oddly enough – to the disconnection of the mythological mentality from real life.
– Your book has a lot of elements of magical realism, this work is often compared with the work of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. There are many considerations about the significance of magical realism in Latin American literature, one of which is that complex reality can only be told through allegories. On the other hand, Alejo Carpentier, one of the pioneers of magical realism, has said that “In general, what is the entire history of Latin America, if not a chronicle of magical reality?” Do you think that the history of the Carpathian people is also loosely connected to the halo of magical realism? And what does that give you in the story? Allows you to juggle ideas, characters more freely?
– I think magical realism is how oral history and family memory really work. This is the reduction that is the axis of the explanation to ourselves and to future generations about what really happened. Magic is a method where most of the connections in the chain sequence are hidden. We see the beginning and the end, and we see the most picturesque peak in between.
Magical realism is the absolute truth, stripped of all the thousands of steps, interrelationships, and dependencies.
Magical realism is the absolute truth, stripped of all the thousands of steps, interrelationships, and dependencies. It is the way we want to explain the past to ourselves, hoping to repeat it in the future. Magic realism is a harmony between memory and oblivion. It is typical of nations and regions that did not have time for analysis, statistics and archiving. And the Carpathians – not only Ukrainian – are one such part of Europe.
– In the book, it is written that “reality exists for those who have lost Annas”. So what is Anna’s true meaning, meaning?
“It means that when you have your real Anna, she will be the truest reality.” It means the ability to love in such a way that it seems that there is no real world outside of your love. It means self-deception that becomes history.
– The book is imbued with a feeling of melancholy. And it seems to me that this is a very typical state of Central, Eastern Europe. I spoke with Georgi Gospodinov, and when we touched on this topic, he mentioned “Bulgarian sadness”, the feeling of something that never happened to the Bulgarian people. What is “Ukrainian sadness”, “Ukrainian melancholy”, what permeates the pages of this book? And it seems that it is important for you to explore that belonging to the Central European space.
– This is the common sadness of the small nations of Central Europe, who feel that all the most interesting things on the continent are happening to them, but which cannot be understood by those nations who have managed to win the privilege of writing and interpreting the history of the Eurocentric world.
– This book was written even before the war, in 2010, but at least when I read it now, it seems that there are a lot of forebodings. “It turns out that’s what war is like, and so is death.” Or maybe it just comes from the research of the historical cycle that is in this book – war is always somewhere nearby in the history of a nation.
– At least in the places described in the novel, war – in its various forms – had no alternative. This went on for centuries. And the 20th century turned these lands into a total battlefield. Only short fragments were not stained with blood. But the war never ended. It has always been a kind of laboratory where new oppositions were tested – if not in vivo, then in vitro.
– “There are things more important than fate.” It seems to me that this is one of the most important leitmotifs in this work. Do you agree with that? Or maybe the readers read the book in a completely different way than you had planned, because there are really a lot of spaces in the work?
– A myth is more important than fate as a chance. And an attempt to tell the story of his own damnation in his own way. I don’t know how the book is actually understood. But this is a book about the interest of storytelling. To yourself about yourself. About the fact that plots are what drives a person, humanity, the world. Plots in a broad sense. From the application of ocher to quantum physics. Signs that can be retold.
– By the way, if we are talking about reading the book, at least it left a dreamy impression on me. When the plot becomes less important, I didn’t even necessarily try to connect all those episodes into a coherent system. Perhaps this is also the way of seeing and feeling the history of the nation? Ultimately leading to a mythic cycle.
– I am glad that you felt this atmosphere. After all, it is clearly stated in one of the fragments that a good story is identical to reading a dream. And the best thing about dreams is that they cannot be expressed except in words, which become a thing of their own and not a reflection of dreams.
And the best thing about dreams is that they cannot be expressed except in words, which become a thing of their own and not a reflection of dreams.
– Despite the sad themes, the book also contains insanely funny episodes. One of those, at least for me, is related to rastamans. How did these scenes come about?
– For many decades, starting with the first interwar Austrian explorers, then interwar Poland, then the culture of the Soviet Union cultivated the idea that the Carpathians, the Hucul region, is such a very closed, archaic and exotic land. A reserve, a closed preserved system. From the point of view of individual branches of descriptive science, it is quite possible to conduct archaeological explorations here.
But the truth is different. The Carpathians are one of the most open, heterogeneous, dynamic regions of Ukraine and all other tribes and countries, which are united by their magnetism. This is not a separator, but a mixer. Here it was coming. There was a way out. They used to return here, bringing back certain innovations. Huculs have such a concept – an inventor, an innovator. Huculs served as marines in Venice and Croatia, Huculs traveled to America (and many of them returned with earnings to buy a few more meadows near their parents’ house), Huculs built houses in Siberia… On the other hand, they saw thousands of tourists and vacationers from all over the world. They passed all these impressions through the filter of their fundamental worldview. And from this unique myths and plots were born. So one of the main tasks of my book was to remind us about this side of the Carpathian Reserve. In this case, a very suitable symbol of the phenomenon, brought to the maximum, is found.
– Of course, when we talk at the moment, we cannot avoid looking at the war. Now there is a lot of talk about how Russian culture should be assessed. What is your position on this matter? I remember doing an interview with Haska Shyyan a while ago and she said that “Russian culture in the international arena should be silenced until the clear end of this war, as if sanctions were applied to their businesses and athletes, because they are all part of one big game.” However, there are still those who say that Russian works of art and literature are not to blame for what is happening in Ukraine.
– It is impossible to overshadow Russian culture in the international arena. Its image is too deep, at least among European nations. However, this is not our problem. Europeans need Russian culture as a touch to unleashed evil. As permission for ourselves – in the corsets of our morals and ethics – to experience this enormous freedom to be bad.
Europeans don’t want to admit it, but for them, the great Russian culture is a form of mind, not sins committed. That is why many very decent Germans want to drink vodka, act like pigs and strangle “Russian beauties” during their visits to Russia. Russian culture is about the abyss of the soul and animality. That is why it is necessary for those who are restrained. It is disappointing that Europeans do not realize that they themselves are the object of contempt and hatred.
As for Ukraine, we face another problem. Centuries and decades of Russian domination led to the fact that the Russian language and mass Russian culture became completely their own for the vast majority of the Ukrainian population of various origins. How can they get rid of this identity? Only changes in the managed market can have any effect. As in a shopping center – the refusal of some products along with the offer of other products. For self-aware Ukrainians, Russian culture is not a threat, it is simply no longer needed. By the way, the development of Ukrainian cultural identity is also the cause of the current war. Like Russian culture. They simply raised people of two identities who are unable to accept each other gently and impartially.
– During the interview, you mentioned that nationalism is changing in Ukraine, that the way the nation and the state are understood is changing. What changes do you think are the most noticeable?
– Well, according to the previous question, the main change in nationalism is gradually becoming the forced acceptance of the Ukrainian nation and state based on political and mental traits, not blood and language. And the most telling is the emergence of a large mass of neophyte nationalists who, despite their Russian-speaking upbringing, choose the heroics of the Ukrainian anti-Russian myth.
– Well, and the last question. The book lists many different, often exotic-sounding names of alcoholic beverages. How many of them are real and how many are figments of the imagination?
– All but one are real. Some are more traditional, some are short-lived experiments or inventions. Some are made almost everywhere, some are made by individual hobbyists in a particular area. However, I tasted all but one of the ones I mentioned. Of course, in this whole story gin, juniper, borovyčka (as they say on the Slovak side) is a symbol. Gin, because it’s subalpica, giant junipers, why not. Spa, inhalations, swimming pools, town of Jalivec, cinema “Juniperus”… It’s a pity, but this product is the least widespread in our region.
And some other drinks not mentioned in the novel. And only one of them was fictional – the one soured by red ants. Although it is not known, maybe someone out of poverty really resorted to it. I am convinced that there is nothing real or fake. All that can be named are just different forms of reality.
Answers were translated from Ukrainian by Donata Rinkevičienė
window.fbAsyncInit = function() {
FB.init({
appId: ‘117218911630016’,
version: ‘v2.10’,
status: true,
cookie: false,
xfbml: true
});
};
(function(d, s, id) {
var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];
if (d.getElementById(id)) {
return;
}
js = d.createElement(s);
js.id = id;
js.src = “https://connect.facebook.net/lt_LT/sdk.js”;
fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs);
}(document, ‘script’, ‘facebook-jssdk’));
#Ukrainian #writer #Prochasko #Russian #culture #abyss #soul #animality #Culture
Erages. How do these references to drinks fit into the broader narrative or themes of the book?
– The various alcoholic beverages mentioned in the book serve multiple purposes. On one hand, they highlight the cultural diversity and rich traditions of the Carpathian region, showcasing how different communities have their unique practices and historical influences. Alcohol, particularly in many Eastern European cultures, is often linked to social gatherings, storytelling, and the sharing of experiences. This can create a sense of community and belonging, which contrasts with the underlying melancholy and historical trauma explored in the narrative.
Furthermore, drinks can symbolize escapism and the ways in which characters seek moments of levity or distraction from their realities. They can offer insight into the characters’ personalities, relationships, and the societal dynamics at play. In a way, it’s a reflection of a broader human experience—seeking solace in shared rituals amid the chaos of life’s struggles. The presence of these beverages enriches the narrative by adding layers of meaning and connection to the region’s cultural identity.
