Tania Maliarchuk began with several volumes of short stories and novellas: Adolfo's Endspiel, or A Rose for Liza (2004), From Top to Bottom: A Book of Fears (2006), How I Became a Saint (2006), To Speak (2007), and Zviroslov (2009). Her first novel, Biography of an Accidental Miracle, was published in 2012.
Maliarchuk has been writing in German since 2014. In 2018 she won the Ingeborg Bachmann Award for Fr枚sche im Meer (Frogs in the Sea), an unpublished text she read at the Festival of German-Language Literature.
Her Ukrainian work has been translated into German since 2009 (Neunprozentiger Haushaltsessing, Biografie eines zuf盲lligen Wunders, both by Residenz Verlag). Some has also been translated into English.[2][3] The short story "Me and My Sacred Cow" was published in Best European Fiction 2013, edited by Aleksandar Hemon.[4]
Forgottenness is gorgeous. And: completely mysterious. And: very moving.
The publisher's description tells you what it's supposedly about:
"An exceedingly anxious narrator grapples with a host of conditions, from obsessive-compulsive disorder to a creeping sense of agoraphobia. As her symptoms deepen, she finds unexpected solace researching Viacheslav Lypynskyi (1882鈥�1931), a social and political activist of Polish descent who played a pivotal role in the struggle for Ukrainian independence鈥昦nd who nursed his own comorbidities. In this long-deceased ideologue the narrator finally finds companionship, mining her country鈥檚 history in pursuit of a better grasp over her own."
All right. These words, ostensibly describing what this novel is "about," are like a picture frame. Inside the frame is a work of art. The frame gives the story definition and dimension, but what is inside this frame is entirely unique and indescribable. As I read, a stream of sense impressions that bombarded me with image and movement and purposefulness. No matter how randomly arranged the happenings seemed to be, as I read along, as I read, I felt closer to understanding ... a lot of important things. Like: what connects us humans. And: what makes us care about the things we care about.
I can only imagine that Zenia Tompkins is a genius of translation because the language is so beautiful. I kept just feeling joy, over and over again, at the language, the words.
The protagonist is a young Ukrainian writer who feels some distant connection to Viacheslav Lypynskyi, a real-enough historical figure (1882-1931), who fought for Ukrainian independence and indeed felt himself to be Ukrainian even though of Polish descent.
The chapters are arranged as Lypynskyi's story (Him), the protagonist's story (Me), and the protagonist's connection to Lypynskyi via research (Us). Thus, the novel has a very autobiographical feel to it.
Lypynskyi's story was illuminating, was well-told and/or translated, and served to fill a gap in my understanding of Ukraine. That said, my attention waned the more obsessive Lypynskyi became. The same held true with the protagonist's story. I rather liked her obsession with Lypynskyi, which gave the novel a present-day hook. But as Lypynskyi succumbed to tuberculosis, the protagonist was laid low by agoraphobia. This is the third book I've read in just the last month where the main female character could not leave her apartment. Apparently, it's an epidemic.
As an addendum:
There were a lot of historical Ukrainian and Polish names that popped up and will soon be forgotten. But there was another figure, long before Lypynskyi, who, although Polish, fought for Ukrainian independence. His name was Mykhailo Krzyczewski, and he only has a cameo role in this novel. Still, any American can easily pronounce that last name. Anglicize the first name, remove a 'C' from the last, and that's a lot of wins.
Zu meiner Schande muss ich gestehen, dass ich von ukrainischer Geschichte keinen blassen Schimmer habe. Zwar habe ich letztes Jahr durch "Das Licht der Frauen" von Zanna Sloniowska einiges 眉ber die ukrainische Unabh盲ngigkeitsbewegung nach 1945 gelernt, "Blauwal der Erinnerung" greift da aber noch weiter zur眉ck (1900-1930). Die Lebensgeschichte des ukrainischen Freiheitsk盲mpfers Lypynskyj und der Kampf um Identit盲t, Anerkennung und Eigenstaatlichkeit des ukrainischen Volkes im st盲ndigen Spannungsfeld zu Polen und Russland war im h枚chsten Ma脽e fesselnd und lehrreich, das h盲tte ich nie erwartet. Die Gegenwartsebene um die Ich-Erz盲hlerin (Alter Ego der Autorin?) war f眉r mich weitestgehend unerheblich, erst, als sie ihre Familiengeschichte im Lichte der Geschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts betrachtet und nach ererbter Schuld und S眉hne sucht, wurde es ganz am Ende doch noch mal interessant.
This was a narrow niche of a book, intertwining the life of a Ukranian folk-hero and a present day "I" character struggling for identity. The Soviet really was a nasty place, displacing entire people, erasing histories and languages. The book is well-written and sore, which is why I kept at it, but it wasn't all that exciting.
Forgottenness weaves back and forth between two stories, that of Viacheslav Lypynskyi, a true historical figure who believed fervently in Ukrainian independence and statehood, and an unnamed writer narrator I felt might be near-autobiographical on the part of author Tanja Malijatschuk. The book opens with the unnamed writer coming across announcements of Lypynskyi鈥檚 death in old Ukrainian and Ukrainian-American newspapers. Through research, she discovers he was in poor health for much of his life as she has been. She feels a connection to this man despite the fact that he lived decades before she did. It feels appropriate she鈥檚 developed this connection to such a distant figure as she loses her grasp on time and place.
At the center of Forgottenness, bridging the stories together, is the written word. I was struck at the amount of newspapers the unnamed writer referenced in that section where one protagonist discovered the other, as I suspect Malijatschuk wanted me to be. Throughout the two stories, we read references to more newspapers, poetry, diaries, novels, novellas, academic papers, notes, and letters, all written intentionally as a record and as a passing along of information.
When I started reading Forgottenness,, I knew next to nothing about Ukrainian history. Now I know a little bit more, and much of what I learned is that I still know very little. The back of this book says it is about identity, and that is true. Language is often a huge part of identity, and I suspected, from Malijatschuk鈥檚 focus, it was an especially integral part of Ukrainian identity. I did some (very light) research to learn more because I love this kind of thing: What became the Ukrainian language was first considered to be the peasant dialect of Polish Russia. It was outlawed once murmurs of independence were felt; outlaw the common language and you outlaw unity, stopping strength in numbers. The ban on the language, instead, caused its growth as well as a collection of intellectuals to move to the western parts of Ukraine. Talk of independence grew louder.
Although I do appreciate a concise book, I wish there had been more in either storyline. While Lypynskyi鈥檚 passion was clear, I never really understood what had lead to it, why he, born in Poland, felt so strongly on behalf of the movement for Ukrainian independence. As the unnamed writer鈥檚 story progressed, I felt less and less attached to her as a character. By the end of the book I wasn鈥檛 really sure what had happened, but the meditation on Orpingtons brought me back because I do have some knowledge of chickens and that breed in particular!
I figure background knowledge would make this book more comprehensive and enjoyable. There鈥檚 an intimacy that I think could be felt by a reader who was fluent in Ukrainian culture and identity that just went over my head. That feeling you get when you wonder if an inside joke might have been shared in your presence. I recommend this book if you are curious because maybe you will be in on what I missed, and I expect that would be very rewarding.
Many thanks to W.W. Norton & Company for the advanced copy.
Pierwsze co wywar艂o na mnie wra偶enie w czasie lektury 鈥淶apomnienia鈥� ukrai艅skiej pisarki Tanii Malarczuk to osza艂amiaj膮ce wr臋cz pi臋kno j臋zyka jakim sprawnie pos艂uguje si臋 autorka. To j臋zyk bogaty w wysmakowane poetyckie metafory, pe艂en wra偶liwo艣ci i finezji, nierzadko skrz膮cy si臋 od inteligentnego humoru. Tym kunsztownym stylem autorka przybli偶a czytelnikowi dwie wsp贸艂istniej膮ce historie - 偶yj膮cego 100 lat temu Polaka z urodzenia, Ukrai艅ca z wyboru - pisarza politycznego Wac艂awa 鈥淲iaczes艂awa鈥� Lipi艅skiego i wsp贸艂cze艣nie opisuj膮cej jego 偶ycie m艂odej ukrai艅skiej pisarki. Te dwie odleg艂e od siebie o wiek opowie艣ci 艂膮czy motyw l臋ku przed p贸j艣ciem w niepami臋膰, zagini臋cia w odm臋tach ludzkiej i historycznej niepami臋ci - jak wskazuje sam tytu艂 - bycia zapomnianym. G艂贸wna bohaterka rekonstruuj膮c dzieje 偶ycia i bogat膮 polityczno-publicystyczn膮 dzia艂alno艣膰 Lipi艅skiego jednocze艣nie odtwarza histori臋 samej Ukrainy - formowanie si臋 jej pa艅stwowo艣ci, wyboiste losy i ci膮g艂膮 walk臋 o niezale偶no艣膰 i samoistno艣膰. Ta powie艣膰 to wspania艂a lekcja historii - Malarczuk jako Ukrainka zwraca uwag臋 na wiele aspekt贸w i wydarze艅 historycznych kluczowych, niezwykle istotnych dla swoich rodak贸w, o kt贸rych zagraniczni pisarze i dziennikarze mog膮 w og贸le nie mie膰 poj臋cia. Poza zdolno艣ci膮 do barwnego opisania dziej贸w pa艅stwa autorka wspaniale potrafi wykreowa膰 偶ywe, pe艂nokrwiste postaci. Lipi艅ski wy艂aniaj膮cy si臋 z kart ksi膮偶ki to osobnik nader charyzmatyczny, pe艂en pasji, wierz膮cy w swoje cele. Czytaj膮c rozdzia艂y biograficzno-historyczne ca艂y czas mia艂am w g艂owie 鈥淧okor臋鈥� i 鈥淐ho艂od鈥� Twardocha, bo bohater 鈥淶apomnienia鈥� 艣mia艂o m贸g艂by by膰 alter ego Twardochowych postaci. Ta sama bu艅czuczno艣膰 i krn膮brno艣膰, idealizm i problem z to偶samo艣ci膮 narodow膮. U Malarczuk jeszcze rzuca si臋 w oczy skrupulatno艣膰 i g艂臋bia psychologiczna z jak膮 zbudowa艂a 鈥渟wojego鈥� Lipi艅skiego - to bohater, kt贸ry zmienia si臋 na kartach ksi膮偶ki, b臋d膮cy ci膮gle w ruchu - targany przez emocje, 偶膮dz臋, idee, ulegaj膮cy ewolucji znanej jako dojrzewanie - od czupurnego, upartego m艂odzie艅ca do dojrza艂ego, odpowiedzialnego i 艣wiadomego ogranicze艅 powa偶anego polityka. Pomimo powy偶ej wyg艂oszonych pean贸w pochwalnych finalnie 鈥淶apomnienie鈥� pozostawi艂o mnie z uczuciem niedosytu. Historia wsp贸艂czesnej pisarki - poza znakomitym, szalenie intryguj膮cym pocz膮tkiem i pierwsz膮 pe艂n膮 subtelnego, acz rozpalaj膮cego wyobra藕ni臋 erotyzmu opowie艣ci膮 - wypada艂a blado, nieinteresuj膮co przy pasjonuj膮cych dziejach i osobowo艣ci Lipi艅skiego. Zbyt cz臋sto te偶 nie mog艂am si臋 op臋dzi膰 od wra偶enia, 偶e po艂膮czenie tych dw贸ch w膮tk贸w jest zbyt naci膮gane, kompletnie nierealne. Z opowie艣ci o Lipi艅skim Malarczuk r贸wnie偶 mog艂a wycisn膮膰 znacznie wi臋cej. Skrz臋tnie odmalowane dzieci艅stwo, nastoletnio艣膰 i okres wzmo偶onej aktywno艣ci pisarsko-politycznej 鈥淲iaczes艂awa鈥� raptownie si臋 urywaj膮 i ostatnie lata 偶ycia potraktowane s膮 po 艂ebkach. Ostatnie 50 stron 鈥淶apomnienia鈥� to dobitny spadek poziomu - z dotychczasowej zajmuj膮cej, 偶ywej historii uchodzi ca艂a energia.
鈥濧ngelus鈥� pojedzie w tym roku na wsch贸d (mimo 偶e jeszcze druga po艂贸wka p贸艂finalist贸w przede mn膮), jak nie do Rosji, to na Ukrain臋...
Niezwyk艂a ksi膮偶ka o niezwyk艂ym cz艂owieku. (I pomy艣le膰, 偶e na pocz膮tku epidemii ogl膮da艂em bardzo dobry rosyjski serial na podstawie 鈥濨ia艂ej Gwardii鈥�, gdzie hetman Skoropadski jest jedn膮 z kluczowych postaci...)
To jedna z takich ksi膮偶ek, kt贸re wr臋cz prowokuj膮 do gdybania... a gdyby Chmielnicki dogada艂 z Polakami i powsta艂膮 Rzeczpospolita Trojga Narod贸w? A gdyby Pi艂sudski jednak zosta艂 akuszerem niepodleg艂ej Ukrainy? Jak potoczy艂y by si臋 nasze losy? Czy mieli艣my cho膰by przez moment szans臋 na takie skonfederowane pa艅stwo? czy zaprzyja藕nionych s膮siad贸w oddzielaj膮cych nas od Rosji? Co to jest "Nar贸d"? Co go okre艣la? KTO go okre艣la?
No i ta dw贸jka r贸wnoleg艂ych neurotycznych bohater贸w... Arcyciekawa ksi膮偶ka.
Een interessant boek, waarin de (voor mij veelal onbekende) Oekra茂ense geschiedenis in verweven is. De twee verhaallijnen zijn knap beschreven, ze raken elkaar net niet en toch vormt het boek een geheel. Ik werd er alleen niet helemaal in meegenomen, wat wellicht komt door een overvloed aan namen en gebeurtenissen in de ene verhaallijn en een gebrek daaraan in de tweede.
Przesz艂o艣膰, pami臋膰, nasza osobista historia - "Zapomnienie" to niezwyk艂y, rzadko spotykany spos贸b opowiadania o historii poprzez dwa plany czasowe - 偶ycie autorki oraz odnalezienie/wskrzeszenie przez ni膮 zapomnianej/ma艂o znanej postaci Wiaczes艂awa/Wac艂awa Lipi艅skiego. Bardzo dobrze si臋 czyta, nawet przy niezwykle skromnej wiedzy nt. Ukrainy.