More than a thousand days have passed since the Russian invasion of Ukraine. The almost newborn publishing house La Tortuga Búlgara has just brought the title to bookstores Current Ukrainian poetry. 11 contemporary poets with translation by Alina Vrabiy, Khrystyna Rachiy and Antonio Sánchez Carnicero. An opportunity to approach, in a different way, a reality impregnated with war rhetoric.
Can literature be a tool to foster empathy with the Ukrainian people? Alina Vrabiy, one of those in charge of translating the poems into Spanish, states that the idea of the anthology is “to hear the Ukrainian voice in a raw and direct way.” In this way, it provides “a vision of the Ukrainian spirit and the land as a source of energy beyond tragedies, opinions, statistics and policies,” he says.
“In these poems we can not only empathize with the Ukrainian people, but also see that they do not give up despite everything and that even verses about terrible things leave room for love and hope,” says Khrystyna Rachiy, another of the translators. She gives as an example If they burn my face by Ihor Mitrov – which contains verses such as “if I lose a leg/ I will move with a stylish cane/ of course I will not walk as much as before/ nor as much as now/ but I will not carry heavy bags/ much less bazookas”– because “the background of the tragedy shows the author’s optimism,” he explains.
Connect with the second generation migrant
In the book, each poem appears in its original language – written with its alphabet – and in Spanish. An option that may seem surprising if you wonder how many Spanish readers may have knowledge of Ukrainian. However, the reasons are varied and logical. “We want to be faithful to the author and his original timbre. We also believe that the poetry reader is generally curious and values all the details that make a book unique,” explains Marco Vidal González, founder of La Toruga Búlgara with María Vera Avellaneda.
Furthermore, the editor points out that in Spain there are large communities of migrants from Eastern Europe (Bulgarians, Romanians or Ukrainians, among others). “Some of them, especially the new generations, generally have less connection with their other culture, and in fact many do not even speak the language, so these bilingual editions can help them connect with their land and keep the other alive. language. Then there is the case of those who emigrate as adults and who have not yet mastered Spanish.” Likewise, the publisher has taken into account the new Slavic generations for whom bilingual publications: “can be an entertaining way to practice the language they study,” says Vidal.
Choosing the poets who would participate in the anthology was a challenge for him, who specialized more in Bulgarian authors, since at that time he barely knew Ukrainian literature, so he had to rely on external advice. “I made contacts and collected names and contacted the authors, from whom we asked for a sample of ten poems. Then, together with the translators, we made the final selection of poems for the anthology.” Those chosen were Lesyk Panasiuk, Iya Kiva, Oleh Kotsarev, Julia Stakhivska, Anna Malihon, Ihor Mitrov, Halyna Kruk, Yuliya Musakovska, Iryna Shuvalova, Andrii Golosko and Olena Stepanenko.
Antonio Sánchez Carnicero, one of the book’s translators, considers that the most interesting thing about current Ukrainian poetry is the contribution it makes to the readers’ imagination. “Metaphors that transcend the known and that connect with a state of alert, desperation, resignation, but also hope,” he develops. For her part, Khrystyna Rachiy explains that the anthology includes a modern work, which “can be understood by readers of all ages. Ukraine has once again shown itself to be European and by popularizing literature we contribute to both peoples getting to know each other better and being closer.”
The animal of calm resistance
The Bulgarian tortoise is an animal that actually exists. Or that, for the moment, it manages to resist attempts to turn it into medicine, food or decorative object in the various territories of Eastern Europe in which it lives. This species is twinned with another similar one that lives in the Mediterranean area. From that illusion of joint survival in the midst of the whirlwind of modernity comes the name of this publishing house that started this year with the intention of publishing literature with little circulation in Spain.
“The so-called ‘minority languages’ hide surprises. Eastern Europe is increasingly attractive for the Spanish reader and, as experts in those latitudes, we saw that there was a void and great literary potential to bet on,” says Vidal González, a graduate in Slavic languages from the University of Granada. Also heading the publishing house is his colleague María Vera Avellaneda, who studied Fine Arts and specialized in design, photography and editing. “Our idea is to convey to the Spanish reader voices, new and established, from all over Eastern Europe, although with a special affinity for the Slavic languages and, specifically, for the Bulgarian language and literature,” the editor articulates.
That Bulgaria was the starting point of their business adventure responds to the previous experiences of its founders. Vidal González lived in Sofia for three years, where he came into direct contact with the language and literary context of the country. Before moving there, he had studied Bulgarian at the university, a subject in which he enrolled “just to try it” but which captivated him almost immediately because of “the phonetics, the developed verbal system, the sound. Within the Slavic languages, it is the most different and distant from the rest,” he specifies.
Uprooting, helplessness and repression
Additionally, in the first year of her studies she attended a master class by the famous writer Zhivka Baltadzhieva. From that contact he went on to read Bulgarian classics translated into Spanish and when he moved to the country, he immersed himself in its contemporary poetry. “Now in Spain, the attachment and connection with the Bulgarian literary scene not only has not faded, but I am in continuous contact with writers from the country,” he explains.
The Bulgarian Turtle catalog already contains 15 references, a not inconsiderable figure for a publisher with such a short history. At the moment, the title that has received the most comments is Processionby the Bulgarian writer Kíril Vasílev (1971). “He is one of the greats, his approach to the eternal theme of death is of devastating depth. Explores themes such as uprooting, helplessness and political repression. His verses leave you breathless,” says the editor. Likewise, he points out that Absences by Kamelia Panayótova is another of the most successful. “Panayótova explores the impact of trauma and family wounds in childhood and shows us that childhood is not always a safe haven, but a space where the deepest helplessness can be born,” concludes Vidal González.
Without a doubt, it is a daring project due to the uniqueness of the literature they publish and the preeminence of poetry in their titles. “Publishing poetry entails a lot of risk: print runs are much shorter, sales depend a lot on presentations and the author’s circle of friends, and bookstores usually relegate it to the last shelf in the corner,” says the person in charge. However, the publisher considers that this genre has a much longer history than narrative because its reader is not looking – or not only – for novelty but for a work that moves them. Even so, in December they will start the narrative with the publication of two books. “blue notebooka kind of intimate diary of Aleksandar Vutimski (1919 – 1943), a pioneer writer in Bulgaria in dealing with homoerotic feeling in literature and Letters from Omar to his future wifeby the Bulgarian writer René Karabash (1989),” Vidal anticipates. Literary proposals to regain calm in the midst of the maelstrom, like the Bulgarian tortoise.
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