Valse Melancholique

 

Valse Melancholique / Olha Kobylianska
translated from the Ukrainian by Maria K
TSK Group, 2024, c1898
Read by Virginia Ferguson

I discovered this in my library's collection and was quite surprised to see it. It's a recent translation by a Russian-Ukrainian immigrant to the US, the multitalented Maria K. This is a classic, a novella from 1898 that I first read in a collection by Canadian publishers Language Lanterns, in their Women's Voices in Ukrainian literature series (highly recommended). 

I was intrigued and thought I'd revisit it in audiobook form. I found that I recalled the outlines of the story but had forgotten some of the details. So I enjoyed this! At first I wasn't sure about the reader; her accent was a bit unusual, until I finally figured out that she sounded exactly like Audrey Hepburn - not sure what kind of accent that is, but it was less distracting once I made that connection ;) 

In any case, this is a short novel, it comes in just under 2 hours when listening. It begins with a very good introduction giving a bio of Kobylianska (this is the generally accepted English spelling; this translation gives it in the Russian style). It places her in the context of the early feminist and progressive circles of that era and makes the story more understandable to anyone who has never heard of her before. I thought it was a great addition to this recording. 

The story is that of three young women, an artist, a musician and a student. Two of them are roommates but due to financial pressures, they find a third roommate -- the musician, Sofia, who also brings along her piano. Her arrival changes the tight duo that the other were used to; they both are dazzled by Sofia in different ways. There are many discussions in the story about art, about passion and committment to one's art, and about how to live. They decide that living without men, just being single women sharing flats and depending on one another for emotional and financial support is a great idea. They should do this forever. The artist even says something like, "we'll show them that being a single woman isn't something to be ashamed of."

But things get in the way of course. Each of them must follow their own path, whether that's marriage or something less traditional. But this brief moment of seeing them all burn bright is moving, and the vision of women being focused on education and self fulfillment in 1898 is powerful. There were a lot of Ukrainian women writing about freedom, self-determination and even the acceptance of same sex relationships at this time, it was a movement. There are deep roots in the Ukrainian drive for freedom, which still continues. 

Cecil the Lion Had to Die

 

Cecil the Lion Had to Die / Olena Stiazhkina
trans. from Russian and Ukrainian by Dominique Hoffman
Cambridge, MA: HURI, c2024.
200 p.

This is an interesting book for many reasons; one of them is that the author wrote part of it in Russian and part of it in Ukrainian. The original Russian is printed on black paper; the Ukrainian on white. There are phrases from both interspersed in the opposite sections, and those small bits follow this pattern as well. Harvard's Ukrainian Research Institute has published both her diary (reviewed here) and this novel, which she wrote as she was moving toward a switch to using Ukrainian after the Russian invasion. 

Aside from that, this was a read that I enjoyed due to its stylistic flourishes, structural concepts and large cast of characters. It follows a "made family" formed in 1986 when four women give birth and a local functionary bribes them into naming one of the children at least after German Communist leader Ernst Thälmann -- the result is a boy called Ernest and a girl called Thelma. And two others, Alyosha and Halyuska. Their parents are the last Soviet generation; these children are destined to be the first post-Soviet one. 

The book has a fragmentary style; each of the characters is followed from the 1986 through the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, into the calmer 2000s and then into the aftermath of 2014 as Russians invade the Donbas region. Each character takes a different trajectory; this shows the variety of individual response to this political and existential upheaval. The younger generations change their names and language to Ukrainian, some enlist, some move; the older generation makes other choices. This many characters across so many years means that we're only seeing snapshots, key moments of interior life or significant change are highlighted. The chapter headings give us a name and a date; the reader has to double check these, as well as the diagrams at the beginning, to keep everyone straight. But it is worth it. 

While the structure and lack of straightforward linear narrative can limit the connection to a character, Stiazhkina finds a way to create emotional depth, and I was getting attached to a number of the characters. The conclusion was powerful, one of those endings that sticks with you. I thought this was a fantastic literary novel, both in topic and style, and highly recommend it. It works especially well alongside Stiazhkina's diary of her experiences in Donetsk, but doesn't require the factual companion. It's a resonant novel that should be on all lists today.  

(For more on this book, I also recommend this review by a respected book critic who reads and writes in both English and Ukrainian as well as Russian.)

Translation Thursday

It's Translation Thursday! Each Thursday this month I'm going to share the translation I'm currently reading plus a few more on my reading list. Here's today's list:

Currently Reading:

The Dallergut Dream-Making District / Miye Lee
trans. from the Korean by Sandy Joosun Lee

To Read: 

The Healing Season of Pottery / Yeon Somin
trans. from the Korean by Clare Richards

Marigold Mind Laundry / Yun Jung-eun
trans. from the Korean by Shanna Tan

Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop / Hwang Bo-Reum
trans. from the Korean by Shanna Tan

Ukraine, War, Love: A Donetsk Diary

 

Ukraine, War, Love: A Donetsk Diary / Olena Stiazhkina
trans. from the Russian by Anne O. Fisher 
Cambridge, MA: HURI, c2024.
296 p.

This is a powerful book, one that anyone unaware of the realities of the ongoing war against Ukraine, happening since 2014, should read. It's written as a diary, addressed to an unnamed "you", a you which feels like the Russian world that she had lived in prior to this invasion. 

Stiazhkina is from Donetsk, and grew up speaking Russian, in the specific milieu of this underserved region. When Russians invaded in 2014, they were able to take advantage of the existing resentments against the Kyiv government, feelings that Donetsk and the region as a whole weren't being given the benefits that other regions were. And of course they took advantage of those who felt a longing for a simple Soviet past. 

But Stiazhkina is not only a diarist, she's a fantastic writer. So this book has strong imagery and descriptions of things as they are happening; the locals who get involved (generally men) and the so-called "locals" who come in to stir things up as their day job, getting on a bus to head back to Russia at the end of the day. She also writes about emotion, the varied responses to what's happening -- disbelief, the expectation that it will blow over, anger, fear, and the growing realization of an occupation. 

This is a vital read for understanding the beginnings of the current conflict, what people felt and experienced in the moment, and how things progressed. It gives readers a way to understand how one step can lead to many more, and how to recognize them when they are happening. It's such an important read, and one in which the style carries the reader as much as the content. Really good. 

Looking at Women Looking at War

 

Looking at Women Looking at War / Victoria Amelina
Ukrainian sections translated by Daisy Gibbons and Uilleam Blakker
NY: St. Martin's, 2025.
320 p.

Starting off Women in Translation month with some serious subject matter. But I felt it was important to focus on some of the books about Ukraine that have been coming out, and stay aware of what is still happening there. 

This book is a collection of writing by Victoria Amelina, some finished pieces and some notes she had been making for her book, before she was killed in a Russian missile attack on a cafe full of writers. Her words and her dedication to pursuing evidence of war crimes are powerful. 

She wrote both in Ukrainian and in English; the Ukrainian prose in this book is translated by Daisy Gibbons, while the poetry is translated by Uilleam Blacker. The first half of the book is more traditional, in that it has some finished or mostly finished essays and topics. The second half is more a collection of notes for further writing, pieces that Amelina never got to write, being murdered by Russians before she could finish them. 

It's a tough read, in the sense that she is giving up her literary activities and home life to focus on going to dangerous places and gathering people's stories, to create evidence of war crimes. And it's tough reading because you know before you begin that she was killed in a missile strike before this could be finished. 

The complete essays are must reads. And the notes are gathered together in a fragmentary collection, but with many footnotes and explanations by the editors and translators. This does help to make sense of them, and place them in the context of what she had been planning to write about. The very fact that you are reading her notes drives home the violence and the very war crimes she was investigating. 

This book recently won the Orwell Prize for Political Writing, awarded posthumously to Amelina. 

Stacks for #WIT Month

 

This #WITMonth I have a pretty small stack of potential To-Reads. I currently have a few on the go, and a few more that I've finished over the last month that I will be sharing during August. 

I have many books on my own shelves to read, and have made a stack of the ones I am actively reading and/or planning on diving into this month. I tried to find just a few from my collection but couldn't narrow it down. 

I also have a handful of library books included in this number! There are so many more I could have chosen but I don't want to be totally unrealistic ;)

I'm going to be sharing reviews of quite a few books I've finished over the last few weeks as well as reading some more, and of course, adding to my never-ending TBR thanks to other #WIT Month reviews -- I always find great suggestions during this month, plenty to keep my going throughout the rest of the year. 

More #WIT reading to look out for

Along with my regular reading and reviewing here on the blog, I've also read a number of women in translation for my professional work. These were reviews for Library Journal, and so I can't really talk in depth about them here. But these are the titles I covered since last August, and I'd say that nearly all of them were fantastic. 

The Lack of Light / Nino Haratischwili
trans. from the German by Charlotte Collins and Ruth Martin
( English pub date in Sept 2025)

This is a true saga, featuring four women growing up in Georgia in the late 80s/early 90s, and covers a lot of the tumultuous history and the experience of women during this time. Haratischwili is a Georgian author who writes in German.

 

The Soyangri Book Kitchen / Kim Jee Hye
trans. from the Korean by Shanna Tan
(English pub date Oct 2025)

This is another entry into the trend of "healing fiction" from Korea and Japan; this particular one is set in a countryside bookstore/café/inn and is quite bookish. 

Beasts of the Sea / Iida Turpeinen
trans. from the Finnish by David Hackston
(English pub date Oct 2025)

Natural sciences, three storylines and timelines, melancholy and philosophical - just the kind of read I like. Reminds me a little of Andrea Barrett. 

The Jaguar's Roar / Micheliny Verunschk
trans. from the Spanish by Juliana Barbassa
(English pub date Dec 2025)

Poetic and literary, a powerful novel of colonialism, women and the way the past interweaves with the present. 

The Third Love / Hiromi Kawakami
trans. from the Japanese by Ted Goosen
(English pub date Oct 2025) 

This has multiple timelines as our main character, unhappy in her marriage, visits previous lives in her dreams. It goes back into Japanese history and looks at social norms for women and marriage in different eras. Quite conceptual and a little dry, this is different than some of her earlier novels.