We talked to the Belarusian writer, translator, and literary critic Hanna Yankuta. We learned how Hanna and her Belarus have changed since 2020, what interesting things happened during her travels, what the creator is currently working on, and what inspires her.
Hanna Yankuta is a Belarusian writer, translator, and literary critic. She is the author of the poetic project "Geology"/"Constitution" (2022), works for children (including the series about Kata Sprot and the novella "Marta and Her Snow Dream"), as well as articles and essays. She translates from English and Polish and has translated novels such as Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice," Kazuo Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go," Sally Rooney's "Normal People," and others into Belarusian. Among her poetic translations are works by Bohdan Zaleski, Maria Pawlikowska-Jasnorzewska, Edgar Allan Poe, John Keats, Sarah Teasdale, and others. (from the website www.knihauka.com).
Hanna Yankuta says that there was no specific moment when she made the decision to emigrate. Initially, the writer went to Poland on a Gaude Polonia cultural scholarship from April to September 2021.
"I was absolutely sure that I was going for half a year. But during this time, a lot happened: loud news about the Ryanair plane landing, the liquidation of the public sector. Also, I had freelance work and ideas, so I stayed in Poland for some time," says Hanna Yankuta.
Hanna recalls a moment from her trip to Argentina.
"I was at the gravesite where Florian Czarnyszewicz is buried – a Polish writer who was born in Belarus and wrote about Belarus. He emigrated to Argentina in 1924, lived in emigration all his life, and was buried on the other side of the world, in the Argentine city of Carlos Paz. That was the first time I thought: maybe this is our fate too? While I still hope that we will be able to return. But I am already prepared for the fact that at some point, we may have to live outside of Belarus."
Since Hanna moved to Poland, she has returned to Belarus three times.
"Each return was more difficult than the previous one; it was very scary to cross the border, even to be at home. Although when I left in August 2022, I thought I would come back again in about a year. But already in winter or spring 2023, I realized that I didn't have the courage to do that."
"It's worth opening up to think not about the rupture but about what can unite us."
Regarding her trips to Belarus in May and August 2022, Hanna also talks about them in her book "Barren Time"
"This book is an attempt to make sense of the void in which Belarusians found themselves after 2020. It consists of real and fictional stories, randomly heard phrases in different languages, fleeting impressions, fascinations, and memories of what can fill life during dictatorship in Belarus and war in Ukraine. The narrator searches everywhere for human and inhuman traces, unfolding plots right before our eyes, as well as stories that happened long ago and of which almost nothing remains. She tries to capture the spirit of emptiness in Warsaw and Minsk, Hrodna and Krakow, other cities and towns. The book shows the world through the eyes of a Belarusian who found herself in forced emigration and tries to understand the processes - elusive and barely perceptible - that are happening now in the world."(www.knihauka.com).
"It was a feeling that this is my city, that I want to return to it. It's an interesting writing challenge - to invent my Minsk, as if creating its image. But, of course, I felt a new distance. This distance was not only because the city is changing, but also because I am changing. I look at some things that were always there in Minsk differently now."
The writer admits that during her second visit to Belarus, she felt much more fear and threats.
"Perhaps it's my imagined threat because people live in Belarus, and maybe they perceive it differently from within. But I was really scared. I did some silly things, like turning off geolocation when walking around the city. Although I understand that if someone had a goal to track me down, my attempts would have been futile. That's when I realized that I had changed too, gotten used to living in safety, and couldn't overcome myself to stay in Minsk."
When asked if it's frightening in emigration to detach from the Belarusian context, Hanna responds:
"Back in my student days, when we were reading works of emigrants at university, it seemed distant from us: their language was a bit different, their consciousness, perception. I didn't understand 20th-century emigrants. And now I draw conclusions that maybe soon what we write or talk about here might seem detached from life inside the country. Maybe people in Belarus will say, 'Oh, this is not about us, it doesn't concern us."
The writer acknowledges that such a problem exists and needs to be addressed. However, she maintains hope that in our time, the gap won't be as significant.
"Florian Czarnyszewicz never left Argentina in his life, never went to Europe again. But we are in Poland, right next to Belarus. Czarnyszewicz could only communicate with his compatriots through letters, and those were letters that went to the Soviet Union, under serious censorship. He never saw his mother again, who remained in the USSR territory.
We live in a different time; we can correspond via the internet, make phone calls, someone can come here. So it's worth opening up to think not about the rupture but about what can unite us, what topics we can work on together, what can be interesting for us."
The writer recalls two books she recently read: "Culture and Resistance" by Tatsiana Astrouskaya (about the 1960s-1970s) and "Mastrychnya. The History of a Miracle" by Siarhei Dubavets (about the first half of the 1980s).
"I knew nothing about those times; they seemed like some monolith to me. But a lot was happening then, and the groundwork was laid for significant changes. For example, now, for us, embroidery or folk songs as a means of self-identification are ordinary. At that time, it was new; it needed to be discovered. Therefore, changes are constantly happening; we just don't always understand how our actions will resonate someday."
Barren Time has no negative meaning for me
The title of the book "Barren Time" was coined by Joanna Bernatowicz, a Polish translator of Belarusian literature into Polish.
"One of the meanings is that we left Belarus, and our yards, gardens are now overgrown with wasteland. But also, in the wasteland, I don't see a negative sense because these are very useful plants: they are the first to inhabit the burned-out areas, for example, or places where something has happened; they are very resilient, eager to live. And it seems to me that this is also a good metaphor for Belarusians in such times: even in very unfavorable conditions, we try to survive, reach for the sun, and struggle with adverse circumstances."
The entire history of the Earth is gradual, so we just have to do our job, fight for our values.
In "Barren Time" Hanna talks about her frequent visits to the Geological Museum in Warsaw. Many geological images are present in the collection "Constitution" as well. The writer says that her interest in geology arose in 2021 during classes at the School of Ecopoetics at the Warsaw Institute of Reportage, which Hanna could attend as part of the Gaude Polonia scholarship.
"It was discussed there, among other things, about an ecopoetic perspective: when you see yourself not as the center of the universe but only as part of a vast ecosystem. And that's when I became very interested in life beyond human beings."
Hanna recalls the Kraków Geological Museum, where there is a stand titled "If Earth Existed for a Year," visualizing the history of the world in the form of a calendar.
"It's a visualization of how long this world has existed without us and how much has happened in it altogether. We also cannot expect that something entirely new in Belarus, in our lives, will form instantly. The only thing we can do is lay small bricks in the foundation. We don't even know how it will work, like in those books about the 1970s-80s when it seemed like nothing was happening, yet a lot was happening indeed.
On one hand, this gave me a metaphor for our time, and on the other hand, comfort that the entire history of the Earth is gradual, so we just have to do our job, fight for our values, even at the level of everyday life, and in 5, 10, 50 years, we will be amazed at the result."
"Now books travel in a private way."
The books that Hanna worked on in 2022-2023 have already been published abroad. "I don't know if 'The Time of the Wasteland' has a chance to reach Belarus. The book is available in electronic format, but whether it's possible to purchase it using a Belarusian card due to sanctions, I don't know. Perhaps 'The Sardine Cat' will somehow make it, someone might buy it in Poland and bring it. I think nobody knows how to deal with this situation. Now books travel more privately than commercially; it's not possible to import a batch to Belarus on a minibus."
Hanna says that she received various feedback on "The Time of the Wasteland": positive, negative, and even one that was hurtful, saying that such books should not be written. However, the writer says that it doesn't upset her.
"When a book evokes so many emotions that someone feels compelled to write something negative about it, then for me, it's also a positive outcome. I was very afraid because I write about my feelings – maybe it's strange, awkward, maybe it's nonsense? But it turns out there are people who experience something similar, and that really supports and encourages me to continue writing."
"Incredible that you can come to the other end of the earth and find something Belarusian there."
Hanna Yankuta traveled around Argentina for three months. "In general, it was my long-standing dream, very abstract, but my husband and I took the initiative, bought tickets in May, and flew there in July. The trip gave me an understanding that it's not scary or difficult. It turned out that people live everywhere, and you can figure things out. Traveling to Argentina is not much different from traveling to Greece or Georgia for me. It was an eye-opener; now I feel freer because if I need to, I can get anywhere I want – within realistic limits, of course."
This journey gave a good understanding of what traveling is all about, says Hanna. For three months, the writer and her husband traveled, lived out of suitcases the whole time, flew from place to place, and explored what interested them.
"I realized that I took too many things with me on the trip; you can travel with a more minimalist setup. The journey also gave me several very unusual encounters. For example, in Buenos Aires, I met a friend from my student days whom I hadn't seen in many years."
One of the goals of the trip was to find Belarusian-Latin American stories. The main characters of the search were Carlos Sherman and Florian Charneevich.
"I've never worked with archives, so maybe this feeling is familiar to archivists, but it was new to me. I tried to find the place where Carlos Sherman studied according to his memoirs. I couldn't find anything, so I just started looking at different schools and colleges on Google maps."
«Побач з раёнам, дзе ён жыў, я знайшла вучэльню, якая пасавала па ўсіх параметрах, прыйшла туды і папрасіла адміністратарку паглядзець у картатэцы, ці не было ў іх такога навучэнца. Праз некалькі тыдняў адміністратарка мне даслала ліст, што так, Карлас Шэрман сапраўды там вучыўся. Для мяне было неймаверным, што можна прыехаць на іншы канец зямлі і знайсці там нешта беларускае».
I want to focus specifically on prose
Now, Hanna works as a translator to make a living. "For some time now, I've been working on other literary projects. For example, the publishing house run by Yanushkevich is reissuing 'Kot Shprot' (The Sprat Cat). Two books have been released, and for the third one (which previously existed only in audio format), artist Liliya Davidovskaya has created new and very beautiful illustrations, and the release is expected soon. Presentations of 'Time of the Void' (Час пустазелля) are ongoing. I also have a strong desire to create a collection of my poetic translations because many of them have never been published anywhere.»
The writer acknowledges that she catastrophically lacks time for all the planned projects because even simple organization of life in emigration takes up a lot of time.
"I wanted to write a continuation of the children's fairy tale 'KV Will Help You,' as I am very interested in ecological topics. But now I still want to focus specifically on prose 'for adults' because it turned out to be the most interesting for me. And I think in a grand form. I don't know how to write short stories, I can't imagine how it's done because everything for me grows into large dimensions. Even about Latin America, I have already found so many stories that when I finally process them, it might be either a thick book or two smaller volumes."
From the private archive of Hanna Yankuta.
What inspires and gives strength?
"People. Until 2020, it was impossible to imagine that such stories would be happening right next to us, and people, despite the sorrows, despite the very painful events, still have the strength to move forward. They have the impetus, anger, inspiration to do something. Also, I am inspired by this vast and beautiful world. It intertwines the stories of people, plants, cities, stones, events from different periods. It's a tangle that you want to untangle and make something out of, but do it in a Belarusian way. And I rejoice in it every day."
Ganna Yankuta advises what to read
"I can rejoice in everything I read now because it's truly a miracle that Belarusian writers can still write, and translators can translate, despite very adverse conditions, that it is possible to publish, buy, and read."
Based on what I have recently read, I would recommend:
- "Nobody Is Waiting" by Masha Kaleka, translated from German by Ihar Krebs (Gutenberg Publishers). "The author is a Hebrew poet who wrote in German and spent most of her life in emigration. Emigration, as well as pain and disorientation, the inability to return to what was before, to forget and forgive – these are her main themes."
- "Republic of the Deaf" by Ilya Kaminsky, translated from English by Yulia Tsimafeeva and Valzhyna Mort (Skaryna Press). "The book was written several years ago but turned out to be very relevant to our present day. It is a book about facing violence and resistance to it, as well as about deafness as a metaphor (or perhaps not just a metaphor) for such resistance."
- "I Will Come for You in August" by Kamila Tsen (Knigavka Publishers). "Detective stories written in slang, which once, published in electronic format, sparked a lot of controversy and now have returned to us in the form of a book with the expected ending. The main character of the book is language, as one of the reviews of the book says, and I think it is indeed an interesting exploration of different Belarusian communities, written with great love and seriousness."
- "Honey and Smoke" by Maria Badzey (Pfiaumbaum Publishers). "A debut collection of poems by a Belarusian poet that helps to connect and encounter something eternal and mythical."
- "Victory Square" by Alhierd Baharevich (Vesna Publishers). "I think this is one of the most beautiful and eerie tales by the author, where the phenomenon of power is explored in an artistic form – and the conclusions of this exploration cannot fail to frighten. But the tale itself, its balance and elegance, are enchanting."
