Strong Roots

 

Strong Roots: a memoir of food, family & Ukraine / Olia Hercules
NY: Knopf, c2025.
288 p.

I devoured this memoir of food, family and Ukraine. Olia Hercules is a well known Ukrainian cook based in the UK. When the invasion happened in 2022, she took part in many fundraising activities, encouraging restaurants and foodies in UK to create events and raise money. 

In this book, she shares what happened in the aftermath of the invasion to her personally and to her parents as they fled Kherson, near Crimea. And she takes that beginning and moves back into three generations of her family, their lives, experiences, values. As she notes in her acknowledgements, "Not one generation of my family has escaped dispossession, deportation or war."

This is a beautifully written family history, full of longing for Ukraine, with evocative recollections of natural beauty, food and family, and alongside that, the realities of war over a century, deportations, violence - and the way those things were not often discussed openly. She covers many years of Soviet rule, and the breakup of the regime, from her parents' experiences to her own. Her writing is so powerful I feel like I can see the places she describes for myself. She has a talent for metaphor and imagery, for tucking dark facts into lovely settings.

This is not a foodie memoir but food plays a role. Places are described using food based metaphors -- and she talks about family dinners, family recipes, about making food for her parents as they first arrive in Italy from Ukraine in 2022 -- using whatever she could find in Italy for borsch, and making bread: "Kneading dough is a sensory repetition that forces you to observe the moment, to let go of the insistent buzz of anxiety."

This is a five star read for me. The combination of history, food, family stories with the fluid writing style that makes you feel that Hercules is talking to you directly, all make this a fantastic book. I can't recommend it enough. Anyone wanting to know more about Ukraine needs to read this gorgeous story.

And if you love food too, even better. Make sure you check out Olia Hercules' cookbooks, especially Summer Kitchens, my favourite. 

A Small Stubborn Town

 

A Small, Stubborn Town / Andrew Harding 
London: Ithaka Press, c2023.
140 p.

I read this one a while back, and have been hesitating to review it. While I thought it was interesting and certainly topical, it also felt a bit lacking in context, being written by a British journalist, and being fairly short. It feels more like it should/could have been a long article rather than a book -- there was room here to add a bit more, to flesh out the story a bit. 

However. I still found it an interesting read, with a lot to say about the town of Voznesensk in southern Ukraine. As the Russians invaded in 2022, their route came through the town - where they were expecting to roll through with no trouble. But the locals didn't think that was a plan they were going to get behind. So they did what they could to stop or slow down the movement through their town. 

There were pensioners, young men, lawyers -- ordinary people -- who stepped up to defend their town and by extension, their region. There were men who had volunteered for the Territorial Defense, but never expected to actually have to defend anything. 

It's written from the viewpoints of many of the residents, but primarily a grandmother, Svetlana, whose lazy husband and son have joined in on the defense as well. She is Russian who had come to Ukraine as a child, and can't quite believe what is happening. But she was now clear on who was "her side" -- the locals. 

It's a fast-moving, tightly written story, and as I mentioned, fairly short. It certainly keeps the reader's attention throughout, and touches on the personal stories and relationships between Russia and Ukraine. I found it a little too sympathetic to the Russian forces in some ways, but after three years of evidence I hope that readers can draw their own conclusions about invaders.

Anyhow, I did like it overall, and thought that the defense of the bridge in Voznesensk was a gripping story. Another angle on what happened in the first few weeks of the invasion. 

Diary of an Invasion

 

Diary of an Invasion / Andrey Kurkov
Dallas, TX: Deep Vellum, 2023, c2022.
282 p. 

Kurkov is probably one of the best known Ukrainian writers today; he speaks to the West very effectively. This is the diary he kept as the full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in February, 2022. It covers all those moments familiar to those following this war; the unexpected bombs, the realization sinking in that this was real, the widespread displacement of Ukrainians to the western part of the country in the first few days and weeks, which Kurkov was part of as well. 

It's a writer's diary, so this is a polished and literary representation of the immediacy of the weeks after the invasion. He describes the people they meet, those they've left behind, their longing for their home and the small things they had to leave without. It has that immediacy of a diary, but also a literary arc of sorts. In that sense it's quite different from the non-literary diaries that I've read by Yeva Skalietska or Katya Tokar, which are quite raw. And different again from the diaries of Olena Stiazhkina, who is another literary voice but had been dealing with the realities of war since 2014, since she lived in the Donbas. 

I thought this book was well balanced, though, and a good one for Western readers as Kurkov communicates well and is known to many readers outside of Ukraine already. He does capture the response of a family who is both fairly well off and who are Russian speakers; this invasion is shocking to them on many levels. 

There is a second diary out now, and a third coming, and I believe it's important to keep hearing lived experiences of this war started by Russia, and not to look away. So I'll be reading those as well, and I'm sure that Kurkov will be able to continue to draw literary parallels and connect history to current events, as he does so well in this volume. 

How Good It Is I Have No Fear of Dying

 

How Good It Is I Have No Fear of Dying / Lara Marlowe
NY: Melville House, c2025.
312 p.

This is the story of Lieutenant Yulia Mykytenko, as told by journalist Lara Marlowe. Mykytenko served in the Ukrainian armed forces, but was no longer serving when the full-scale invasion began. She knew immediately that she had to return, and re-enlisted just days later. 

This is a powerful story of her work in the armed forces, as a commander of a unit. Those who think women are not part of the Ukrainian army are sadly mistaken; this book shows how many ways that women are working with and for the Ukrainian armed forces, for the defense of Ukraine. 

I was interested to read a bit of a different perspective here, from a women who had served both previously and in this current moment. She is a long-time serviceperson and has so much experience that she has comparisons to make and a deep understanding of patterns and decisions. So she doesn't fawn over the current government, she sees that there are things that will need changing within Ukrainian society, but after this current existential threat is over. 

She is no-nonsense as well, she just gets things done and avoids unnecessary drama. Her story is another perspective on what happened starting in February 2022, from a demographic I haven't heard directly from before. I thought that Lara Marlowe, a war journalist from the US and France, did a good job of getting Mykytenko's voice across and finding the right details to fill out this story. Illuminating and engaging, there are no dry reportage bits here. Just a very personal and thoughtful sketch of a woman's experience in wartime. 

Letters of the Alphabet Go To War

 

Letters of the Alphabet Go to War / Lesyk Panasiuk
trans. from the Ukrainian by Katie Farris & Ilya Kaminsky
Louisville, KY: Sarabande, c2026.
32 p.

I can't say too much about this forthcoming poetry collection here, as I have already reviewed it at Library Journal. But I wanted to share it so that others can hear about it, as it was a top read for me. 

It was haunting and powerful. It's a small book, almost a chapbook, published by Sarabande, but I was pleased to find something by a Ukrainian author who I didn't know yet. The poems are so personal and investigate language, poetry, literature, culture, all in the face of a violent war. 

I really loved it. I thought the approach was unique, and the poems themselves are accessible to a Western audience. Intelligent, emotional, and beautifully done. The translation is much appreciated as well. Search it out once it's published, you will be richly rewarded.

Endling by Maria Reva

 

Endling / Maria Reva
Toronto, ON : Alfred A. Knopf Canada, c2025.
338 p.

From old to new - I have moved on from reading older novels to picking a recent release. This one was on my list as soon as I heard about it, though - it's by Maria Reva, whose first book I enjoyed, and it's set in contemporary Ukraine. All reasons to read it. And now of course it is on the Booker Longlist - for once I've read a book on an awards list! 

The story starts out with Yeva, a single woman and scientist devoted to her mobile lab in which she chases down snail endlings - the last of their species - in an effort to find a mate and stave off extinction. When she finds that she really needs money, when a grant is refused, she crosses paths with sisters Nastia and Solomiya, who work with a 'Romance Tours' group bringing Western men to meet Ukrainian women. 

The plot thickens as Nastia comes up with a plan to kidnap some of these men, to draw attention to this industry (and really to get the attention of their activist mother, who had abandoned them). She sees Yeva's mobile lab as an opportunity. 

This story rolls along, until the author interrupts it. The full-scale Russian invasion began as Reva was writing this, and in her uncertainty about how to proceed with fiction in the light of reality, she begins including these thoughts and worries into a metafictional insert in this book. I found it clever, meaningful in light of events, and relatable. But I'm still not sure if I really liked it or not, as part of the novel. 

In any case, she does continue the novel, but the direction has shifted. Yeva, Nastia and Solomiya's plan to kidnap some Western bachelors goes awry as they have to drive through the night in unexpected directions and ways, as they face the night of February 24, 2022. And Yeva makes the fateful decision to drive into the warzone to rescue the one potential remaining snail that she's been looking for.  

This was a fantastic read, edgy, timely, with an unusual focus and narrative. I loved the scientific bits, and Yeva's world-weary voice. She has seen the stereotypes of Ukrainians through the eyes of her scientific compatriots in the west, and is over it. Nastia and Solomiya have seen the fetishization of Ukrainian women from another angle, and they are also over it. This brings in so many questions of identity, belonging, what home means, what decisions you might make under a crisis situation, what is worth living for, and so much more. 

This is worth reading for many reasons, but I feel it really does capture this moment in the world in a way I haven't seen often in contemporary American fiction. It really made me think. 

Fair Play by Tove Jansson

 

Fair Play / Tove Jansson
trans. from the Swedish by Thomas Teal
read by Emma D'Arcy
Copenhagen: Saga Egmont, 2024, c1989.

This is a collection of short pieces following the lives of Mari and Jonna, artists who live at either end of a big apartment, Jonna's art studio at one end and Mari's writing space at the other. They have a balanced life of work, art, travel, film, and time spent on their small remote island. They both dislike visitors and want to keep their life even and uneventful for the most part. 

It's a fascinating look at tiny domestic details, as well as the way they shape and respond to one another's art. Their characters come out strongly, and they are very clearly autobiographical to a large extent. In each chapter, they face something, whether it's just worrying about their boat tied up in a storm, or the arrival of an old school friend who they have to host, or the potential of a year apart when Jonna is offered a residency in Paris. There is an outlier chapter where they are on vacation in the American West, taking home movies of it all, as well. 

These little moments of recalibration of a relationship and a lifestyle are momentous somehow, and the little things matter, they have import. It's a quiet but compelling book, and I found the themes and the illumination of a life that isn't all that dramatic so interesting. I listened to the recent audiobook, and found that the reader was skilled and made the listening easy. That's always a bonus! There are a couple more Jansson books available in audio by this publisher and I will most likely listen to those as well. I like Jansson's writing and am glad to see more it available like this. 

Forgotten on Sunday

 

Forgotten on Sunday / Valérie Perrin
trans. from the French by Hildegarde Searle
NY: Europa, 2025, c2015.
304 p.

I've taken a bit of time away from blogging after my August Women in Translation rush! But that doesn't mean I am done reviewing, oh no. I still have a couple of translated books to share with you, and then a whole bunch of contemporary reads, mid-century reads, Ukrainian reads, and more. 

But today I'll share the French novel that I finished just as August was wrapping up. Forgotten on Sunday is Valerie Perrin's first novel, although not the first to be translated into English. Her second novel Fresh Water for Flowers was the first English offering, and was a huge hit. I liked it but found it a bit melodramatic. This novel was more to my taste, even though it also had some melodrama/soapy elements. 

Justine and her cousin Jules have lived with their grandparents since they were children, when both of their sets of parents were killed in a car accident. Justine cares for her grandparents in many ways, and takes care of Jules too, secretly putting aside money from her own savings to get him to university in the city. 

She is working in a seniors home as a care aide, where she spends lots of unpaid time listening to residents' stories. The book moves between Justine's own life, in which she is trying to figure out the truth behind her parents' death, and the life story of Helene Hel, a resident who is often on the beach with her husband in her memories. 

Add to that Helene's handsome grandson, some mysterious calls to family members of residents telling them their relative has died (which is the only way to get some of them to turn up for a visit), Justine's sometime lover 'What's-His-Name', and her cranky grandparents' back story, and you get a lot of narrative threads woven in here. 

Justine is tough, she is self-contained, she is slow to trust, but she ends up with a sense of possibility for the future despite everything she is dealing with. Helene's story illuminates France prior to and during WWII, and there are the elements you might expect with that time frame. Helene was a seamstress, and this is an integral part of the story, one part that I really liked. But she had a hard life, and her story perfectly locks in with Justine's contemporary one. I found the balance well done, with both characters and both lives making for compelling reading. As noted, the plot can get a little soapy, but I still thought that it was a great read that had some strong characters to carry the story. Lots of different elements to interest and engage a variety of readers. I'm glad I picked this one up.