Life in Switzerland, literary scandals, and helping Ukrainian refugees: An Interview with Oles Ilchenko
Oles Ilchenko (b. 1957) is a Ukrainian poet, novelist, screenwriter, and painter. Originally from Kyiv, he has lived in Switzerland since 2011. However, his native city continues to have a large influence over his work. Ilchenko spoke to Olena Lysenko about life in Switzerland, how the book market their differs from Ukraine's, his experience working with Ukrainian refugees, and more.
Why did you choose to emigrate to Switzerland? Do you plan to return to Ukraine someday?
I wouldn't say that I emigrated to Switzerland--that’s too loud a word. I count myself among the ranks of expats, people who chose to live temporarily outside of their Motherland. I perceive the word “emigration” as a complete and irreversible departure from one’s native country. But long-term trips abroad are the norm and even commonplace in today’s dynamic world, primarily for work. It is the labor force migration, which no longer comes as a surprise to anyone: first, you go to one country, then you return home, and afterward, you travel again. I see in Switzerland a large circle of people from different countries who work here because there is work.
My move is quite atypical because I ended up in Switzerland by chance. My wife works for an American company that proposed transferring her to their headquarters in Geneva. This couldn’t have happened in any other country. By that, I mean there are certain offers that one simply cannot refuse. After all, a writer can work from just about everywhere.
Regarding the overall experience of being in Switzerland… Well, moving is always shocking, to a certain extent, because certain factors, such as mentality and social structure, differ from country to country. I’m not talking about something on the level of the United States, of course–that’s an entirely different world for us. But the differences are noticeable even amongst neighboring European countries. Your initial impression about a country almost always turns out to be wrong once faced with a different national mentality, societal challenges, traditions, and habits in everyday life.
Switzerland, in my opinion, is very different from the rest of Europe. Once, I had a conversation with the French professor Georges Nivat, a lifelong professor at the University of Geneva: he aptly observed that Switzerland is an island in the center of Europe. No matter how paradoxical that may sound, it is true because when you go to France or Italy, everything is more or less clear to you, taking into account the national characteristics and mentality of people from those countries.
Why do Ukrainians settle down so quickly in Italy? Because the worldview of the Italians coincides strongly with our own. But Switzerland is a particular country: essentially, 26 small semi-autonomous countries with their own rights united a long ago into a confederation. Sometimes I wonder if the differences between them are even more significant than those of the states in the US.
I had the experience of living in Europe before moving, so the adjustment period was not too taxing. By that, I’m referring to things like buying tickets, taking public transport, speaking the languages, and so on. The face of the state is made up of a mass of trifles. Over time, you realize that Switzerland is a country where everything is for the people. At first, it seems to you that you are living in chaos, but later, you get used to it and realize the convenience of this system. In addition, my wife's company helped us a lot in moving and finding an apartment. Overall, I'm pleased with this decision. A well-established life contributes to the writer's creativity.
Let's talk about the book market in Switzerland. Have there been qualitative changes during your stay in the country? How many bookstores and libraries operate in your city?
Living in such a calm and "uneventful" region gives you the chance to relax and be lulled by prosperity. Obviously, people in Ukraine perceive reality in an entirely different way these days. When there is no news, then there is a greater chance of relative silence on the frontlines. I have to constantly adjust to the work process, not relax, and be in good shape to write literary works and paint.
Regarding the book market, people here in Switzerland read very willingly. There are a lot of popular authors, such as the French-speaking Joël Dikker. There are a lot of bookstores and secondhand shops in the cities for people looking to buy certain editions. I absolutely love that there are bookstores in Switzerland at every train station and airport. Before going somewhere, buy a book for nothing to "kill time." It's a smart marketing move, I think. I would really love it if Ukraine someday adopted this practice of having bookstores in train stations and airports.
The libraries in Switzerland are wonderful; they are in every small town. Both paper and audio books can be found there. However, I noticed that libraries are mostly frequented by people in their thirties and forties. This is a global trend, though. It has long since been proven that young people are reading less and are watching or listening to things more. The youth of today are visual artists.
It’s just a statement of fact; I’m not saying it’s good or bad. Switzerland is a wealthy country with a budget surplus, so money for books is constantly allocated in large amounts.
The Swiss are also very fond of music. It is rarely talked about, but music occupies a significant niche in the cultural space of Switzerland. Musical art, by the way, is very diverse. The Swiss' love for music may even surpass their passion for literature. They love classical music, new trends or groups, and interpretations of well-known classics. The level of culture is rather high in the country, although it may not immediately be noticeable; the stratum of the population one might call the intelligentsia is small. There are individual intellectuals and local stars whom no one knows outside the country. Switzerland is a country without failures or too high ambitions.
Has there been an increased interest in Ukrainian literature since the start of the full-scale invasion?
I would say that interest in Ukrainian culture, in general, has increased. There is no need to explain anything to anyone: the Swiss sympathize with us and express their solidarity. They are now interested in everything that relates to visual and musical art. As for the book market, I cannot speak of any major breakthroughs, because the two nearby markets — French and German — thoroughly saturate the country with popular literature. Publishers approach printing books very pragmatically. They do not gravitate toward translations but prefer to publish their proven local authors or import original French- or German-language literature from neighboring countries.
Everyone knows German and French in Switzerland because they are both taught in school. The Swiss are lucky in this regard because they have known these languages since childhood, as well as English. Thanks to these three powerful world languages, the world opens up to them.
The Swiss can buy books in the original, and bookstores or publishers do not need translations. Books here, by the way, are expensive. It is precisely because of the influence of neighboring countries and multilingualism that I did not see a breakthrough among publishers who would jump to publish Ukrainian authors.
Have any interesting Ukrainian cultural projects occured in Switzerland since the start of the war in 2014 or the full-scale invasion? Which ones have you taken part in?
I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the attitude of the Swiss towards the events taking place in Ukraine and the people who were forced to seek refuge here.
As I already said, this is a very pragmatic and intelligent nation, but they sincerely felt the scale of the tragedy of Ukraine and supported our people. Notably, they've granted a special "EU status" ("S" from 11.03.2022 - ed. note). They recognize Ukrainians not as refugees but as temporarily resettled people with special protection status. The state pays them cash assistance and provides free roaming and medical insurance.
Knowing the Protestant pragmatism of the Swiss, I am simply amazed at how much money has been invested in helping Ukrainian refugees, mostly children and women. 70,000 people have arrived in Switzerland since the start of the invasion, which is a considerable number. The Swiss are extremely tolerant and welcoming of Ukrainian refugees, and they provide special centers with people who speak Ukrainian for their convenience.
When the full-scale invasion began, everything was ready to welcome these refugees; since 2014 various Ukrainian cultural and educational organizations have functioned throughout Switzerland. Thanks to the active position of the Geneva branch of the Greek Catholic Church, we immediately organized a collection of funds, medicine, and food. Thanks to our experience from 8 years ago, we also knew what items were most needed by soldiers. We bought everything and sent it to the front, tracking the movement of this aid. Therefore, we knew which brigade the parcel reached, which people received them, and exactly where. This was done by Greek Catholic priests, and ordinary Swiss people also made significant contributions. The only problem was with logistics because even though the drivers worked for free, it was necessary to provide them with gasoline for more than two thousand kilometers.
In Geneva, after the beginning of the full-scale invasion, the question of opening a school for Ukrainian children arose. In fact, it has been in the air for a long time, but there were not enough children to open special Ukrainian classes. I gave private lessons to Ukrainian children whose parents wanted to preserve their national identity, but there were not many of them.
After February 24, 2022, everything changed dramatically: a large number of Ukrainian-speaking children and parents appeared, as well as teachers and educators. There are currently 200 children in the newly-established Ukrainian school in Geneva.
Along with the organization "Ukrainians in Switzerland," we appealed to the local authorities, and they gave us a full-fledged room for classes. This is a Swiss school where we teach children the Ukrainian language, literature, history, and culture on Wednesdays and Saturdays. There are separate groups for preschoolers where children play. Various ambassadors, representatives of the UN, and other officials give lectures to our children, who tell high school students about the mechanisms of work of different services and institutions.
In the spring, when there were still no premises and classes were held in improvised classrooms at churches and monasteries, I started teaching children a course in Ukrainian literature. Now I continue to do it, relying on the Ministry of Education and Culture requirements and school textbooks.
For several senior classes, this course combines 20th and 21st century Ukrainian literature — a bright and rich period in the history of Ukrainian literature. I tell the children about modernism, the Executed Renaissance, and everything happening now.
For the younger group, I teach a course on 19th century literature: from Ivan Kotlyarevsky's Aeneid (1798) to the development of Ukrainian modernism. Sometimes we have fascinating conversations and discussions with the children because each child's background is different. Sometimes students generate exciting and fresh ideas. It is a great happiness for me to hear words of gratitude from them after the lessons and to see that everything is not in vain.
How has Ukrainian civil society changed after February 24? Can you assess the situation more objectively as someone who has lived for several years outside of the country?
Things are more visible from the side, as they say. I used to visit Ukraine once or twice a year; I spent the whole summer in Kyiv last year. But after the shock of February 24, society became more consolidated. It became clear who is who, what we are fighting for, and eventually, the halftones disappeared. This is normal for war: reality exists in black and white, and when it is necessary to place accents, it happens quite radically. There are many radical people and, sometimes, elements of intolerance among the population. This is also understandable and justified by the war. If similar movements spilled into unruly mobs in other countries, then everything is very civilized in Ukraine by comparison. I even remember the revolutions in which I also took part [the Orange Revolution and Revolution of Dignity - ed.], when not a single shop window was broken nor robbed by protesters.
I would say this shows Ukrainians' level of tolerance and education.
That is why Ukrainian refugees in Switzerland do not ask for money but immediately look for work and rely only on themselves. And the Ukrainian volunteer movement really impresses the whole world. When people without instructions or reminders unite and organize a horizontal network of assistance for the military and refugees without any single center, it truly impresses everyone who looks at this situation from abroad.
What narratives are circulating in Europe now, and are they correct? What should a Ukrainian writer say to convey the painful truth to the world?
It seems that the world is only now realizing this is more than just Ukraine’s war. This is a war for the values that Europe has been preaching for a long, long time.
And now the Europeans have to choose: either they can stand for these values next to us, or they allow themselves to be on the sidelines and "not interfere." Many people, it must be said frankly, are afraid of Putin, his army, and nuclear weapons. There are still many Russophiles in Europe, too.
There are also a lot of passive people. I once spoke to an Italian; it was quite a long time ago, around the beginning of March. When I asked what he would do if people with weapons and tanks came to his land, he replied that negotiating would be necessary. I told him that negotiating was impossible because they'd have come to kill him and his family. Would he take up arms? His answer was no. When I asked about a way out, he answered: we'd need to ask America to save us. And this is far from an isolated opinion that Uncle Sam must save everyone. In my opinion, this is a sort of paradox.
Europeans have already forgotten the reality of war and are very afraid of any form of violence, so they always try to come to an agreement. But it is impossible to peacefully come to an agreement with a nation like Russia. Many people express solidarity, be it verbally or materially. This situation has impacted everyone to a certain extent, and it is no longer possible to say that nothing is happening. This is Europe's war, too: there is a direct threat of Russian aggression spilling into the Baltic countries, Poland, and the Scandinavian countries.
The writer must convey these messages and explain that the disease cannot go away by itself if it is not treated. Don’t be afraid to oppose evil—that is the writer's main objective now.
Recently, the Ukrainian literature community was shaken by a scandal surrounding Yuri Andruhovych. I'm not so much interested in the writer's so-called “mistake”, but rather the wave of hate that was poured on him for it. Some say that these are provocations to anger the Ukrainian intelligentsia. Others say that this is a sign of a nation that is forming and growing, and that such clashes are normal. What do you think?
This event is one of hundreds of thousands that occur in the world, and its impact is greatly exaggerated. I read the opinions on both sides of the argument and came away thinking that the majority of Ukrainians remain unaware of this scandal. This is a perfect example of the radicalization I was referencing earlier: during war, when nerves are stretched, the world becomes black and white. It can be explained like this.
I do not condemn Yuriy Andruhovych, because everyone makes their own personal choice. All wars end at some point, people start dialogues, and return to that literature, which is now completely hostile.
In general, not much is read in the world now. There are millions of people who do not know Russian literature and live happily ever after; the same applies to Ukrainian literature. I don't know the true reasons Andruhovych had for meeting with Shishkin, nor have I watched any recording of their conversation.
Andruhovich explained his motivation for meeting with Shishkin in an essay on Zbruc, responding directly to a post on Facebook made by the author Halyna Kruk.
Yes, I read Yurko’s reply, but I think it was a bit unwise to respond to just one person. Perhaps a broader explanation was needed. It's easy to condemn and justify the actions of other people, especially in times of war when everything is so polarized. Sometimes you have to step back and think a little, without being motivated by radical thoughts.
What is your position regarding dialogues with Russian writers and other cultural figures?
I decided that I don’t need this for myself. Long before the Andrukhovych-Shiskin event took place, I was invited to Geneva to speak with him, and I refused. Not because I’m some radical, no–I just don’t see the point in talking to Russians right now.
What can be spoken about with them?
If there was a clear reason for meeting with a Russian author then perhaps I would agree to meet with them. But I simply don’t see the point in doing so now. I understand the Swiss, because they’re curious to see and hear the perspective of both Ukrainians and Russians. But I volunteer everyday, and I see Ukrainian women and children who fled to Switzerland for safety, hear what they went through, and against the backdrop of such tragedies, meeting with a Russian author seems outright absurd.
You mentioned the conversation with Shishkin that they wanted you to have in Geneva; this is very interesting and unexpected for me. Tell me please, what literary events are taking place in your city? Do they touch on Ukraine? If so, in what way?
Unsurprisingly, cultural exchange in the field of painting has been revived. There were several exhibitions of young artists from Ukraine: a group exhibition of four, then another. I participated in these events as an artist, not a writer. My personal painting exhibition took place in Bern, and a group exhibition in Basel as part of Art Basel — an exhibition on the shores.
I have already said that painting and music are perceived much better because there is no need for an intermediary translator, which is necessary in the case of a literary work.
Halyna Petrosanyak lives in Switzerland and works more with the German-speaking part of the population. And in my region, I am almost the only writer from Ukraine, so I am a sort of promoter of Ukrainian literary events in Geneva.
Every year, the public expects a new book from me, and I try to do it.
Soon there will be a presentation of my latest novel, Sweet World, published by Meridian Czernowitz. And I will also present the historically necessary book Chicken Kyiv: Secrets of Kyiv Cuisine. These novelties can be enjoyed by my regular readers and the new people who were forced to relocate here from Ukraine.
What about Ukrainian-German or Ukrainian-French translations?
Professor Nivat, whom I mentioned earlier in our conversation, has translated our brilliant poet Vasyl Stus into French. He is an honorary professor of the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy, and he understands Ukrainian well, but it is still difficult for him to speak it. And even though Georges Nivat was born in 1935, I gave him private lessons in the Ukrainian language. Thanks to this, he mastered the Ukrainian language enough to understand slow speech and read simple texts.
But when he wanted to translate Stus, he asked me to be a so-called interpreter or guide because Vasyl Stus's poetry contains a lot of rarely-used words, dialecticisms, and specific vocabulary that is difficult for a non-native Ukrainian speaker to understand.
This bilingual book of Stus' poems was published by the Kyiv publishing house Duh i Litera, and an expanded paper edition will appear soon in France. We study the Ukrainian language together every Tuesday through the poetry of Vasyl Stus.
I think it will be a sensation in certain literary circles in France because Stus has not yet been translated there.
It seems to me that Ukrainian society especially acutely felt the need for Stus's words and meanings after the beginning of the full-scale invasion. Although, in my opinion, he is still not as well-known and appreciated as he should be in his own homeland.
You’re absolutely correct. Stus was always a chamber, in both the literal and poetic sense. He continued to write even after his arrest; his work was incomprehensible and hermetic. When you translate such an author, you’re confronted by the richness of his poetics. I am very glad that Professor Nivat began to feel Stus’s poetic verse and appreciated him properly.
Whereas Shevchenko is eternally relevant, Stus remains a point of orientation for us. When poetry is brilliant, its relevance endures through the years and even deepens. Sometimes it seems that a certain text should be included in the monuments to the history of literature, and then these texts suddenly emerge from the thicket of other books. For example, Osip Turyanskyi's novel Beyond Pain about the First World War has been rediscovered by modern readers.
While preparing for our conversation, I reread my review on Zbruc of your novel The Port of Gitana. And I was struck by one sentence written about you in 2020: "However, the author shows something completely different--the perception of the events of 2013-2014 by Europeans through the prism of their worldview. This allows the reader to feel that we are not alone in this grief and to look at the situation from a distance." What is the Revolution of Dignity and the war in Ukraine for Europeans before the full-scale invasion compared to now?
The countries currently helping us the most have "felt" the Revolution of Dignity: the USA, Poland, and the Baltic states. The tradition of Poles to rebel, in the best connotation of this word, has been very responsive both now and in 2013. We are not facing a country of lethargic sleep, like Belarus, where attempts to rebel were brutally and quickly suppressed. Regarding the Americans, the cornerstone of their national idea is freedom. Therefore, the restrictions that citizens of other states can put up with are unthinkable there. This is why people seeking freedom, historically, have fled to America.
These countries really stepped up and helped us. Others pretended that everything was fine and chose the path of silence. They thought that the most important thing was not to annoy Putin and to calm down the Ukrainians so that the status quo could be maintained. They tried to pretend that this was some accidental overstep. And when the full-scale invasion began, there was nowhere left for them to run, metaphorically-speaking. They had to face reality. Pseudo-intellectual justifications also began to circulate, such as: Chekhov's house is in Yalta. But in contrast to this, Lesya Ukrainka's house is also in Yalta. Europeans tried to put out this fire in the center of Europe, but our crazy neighbor proved to everyone that their disease must be fought.
Are you writing something now? If so, what? Do you plan to write about war? If so, in what genre? What should literature about war be like?
For now I don’t dare to write about the war, because I’m convinced that a writer should be immersed in such material. What I read on the internet or hear from friends and acquaintances is not really enough to have the right to express my thoughts on this topic. That right belongs to the people experiencing it firsthand.
I’m currently writing a book of short stories which focuses on the topic of death in all its forms: banal, accidental, tragic, moral… This is the thread which binds all of the stories together. And I have an idea for a new novel: a combination of modern post-war events combined with the history of Kyiv in 1925-1930. This is an extremely interesting period in the history of Ukrainian literature and interesting for me personally, so I will gladly take it on after I finish my current project.
Interviewed by Olena Lysenko
Translated from the Ukrainian by Kate Tsurkan