Georgi Gospodinov: ‘We have to be better readers than Putin and his circle’

I met Georgi Gospodiv after his panel discussion at the Vienna Humanities Festival 2023 and a 30-minute-long autograph session. Festival organizers thoughtfully provided a venue for the press on the second floor of the Akademie der bildenden Künste. Gospodinov spent 20 minutes giving an interview to Austrian Radio before talking to me. Together with the organizers, we asked him if he wanted to take a break between interviews, but the writer only nodded at me: he was ready for the talk. With friendly curiosity, he asked me which city in Ukraine I came from and how long I had been in Austria.

People often adjust their manner of speaking and behavior when the recording is on. But Georgi Gospodinov doesn’t change anything; he maintains eye contact while keeping up the conversation.

We talk about a recent novel by Georgi Gospodinov “Time Shelter”, about using nostalgia as a weapon and about Ukrainian and Bulgarian literature.

Chytomo: I want to begin our interview with a quote from your recent book: “The past is not only what happened to you. Sometimes, it is what you only imagined happening.” I have noticed that all of your three novels, in some way, are philosophical statements about the time and the past. Could you maybe tell us more about it?

Georgi Gospodinov: Yes, the topic of the past is, in fact, present in all of my books and all of my short stories because we are made from the past, and we also produce the past every minute. I was born in Bulgaria, and in Bulgaria, we have a problem with epic stories about the past. It is connected to a patriarchal social structure but also, of course, to communism when the past was dangerous. Because of that, a weird silence culture has developed in Bulgaria: not to tell stories about your past to keep your own sons and daughters out of danger. And that’s why when I started to write — I was twenty or twenty-something — I wanted to write out my parents’ and grandparents’ stories of the past and those of other people around me who have never told them.

Afterward, I also wrote about some personal projects connected to the past. My friends and I made a website and gathered personal stories about communism. We gathered and published 171 personal stories. And also an “Inventory Book of Socialism” and so on. And — yes, ‘mission’ — is a big word, but I think we must talk about the past, sorrow, and all the stories. I believe it is very important to make life go on. Because the past is truly like a vampire: if you don’t include it in stories, in memories, don’t discuss it, it will always come back. The current war has similar factors.

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Chytomo: It seems to me that we have a similar attitude towards the past in Ukraine. Oksana Zabuzhko points out that the past generations didn’t tell their children stories about the dangerous past, about the Soviet Union as a dangerous place to live in, and that’s why today some people sympathize with this type of future and want to have it back, especially in russia.

Georgi Gospodinov: Yes, because it was the one system. Totalitarian system.

Chytomo: I also wanted to ask you about one character that unifies all your books — Gaustine. First of all, I do not speak Bulgarian and therefore wanted to ask if it is a widespread name in Bulgaria?

Georgi Gospodinov: Not at all.

Chytomo: I knew it! Why did you call him that?

Georgi Gospodinov: This name reminds me of Augustine, Saint Augustine. As you know, he was a theologist, philosopher, and so on, one of my favorites. In reality, it is a mix of Saint Augustine and Garibaldi. One way or another, of course, it is an absolutely peculiar name. It is the name that reminds you of something; it reminds you of Augustine, and he is a person who appears in different periods of world history. He can appear in the thirteenth century, in 1968, in 1990. He can be my friend, my enemy, …

Chytomo: Or your alter ego…

Georgi Gospodinov: Or my alter ego, my invisible friend, guru, or my…anyone.

Chytomo: It is just that this name, for me, has an auditory similarity to your last name. Ga-us-tin, Gos-po-din-ov…

Georgi Gospodinov: Yes, there is a connection. And it also starts with G. I play with it in a novel, of course. Sometimes, you don’t know who is speaking: Gaustine or Gospodinov.

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Chytomo: While listening to today’s panel discussion, I was always asking myself the same question. You said that literature must generate empathy and meanings. And you talked about the modern world as the world where stories are going to war with each other. Do you think the Ukrainian story wins, or maybe it lacks something to evoke empathy in the world community?

Georgi Gospodinov: I believe that Ukraine has already won the war of stories. I think that it was a very important part of the war. War never starts with bullets or shelling; it begins much earlier. It begins with a struggle of stories. And I think that the stories of Ukraine — for example, a story of a child that runs on their own to the border with a phone number written on their hand…and all these stories — are very personal in a sense, and that’s why they are important. Although I never believed that this would really happen, but Europe — all the countries, all the people — probably not all governments, but all the people, many people — all sided with Ukraine. That’s for sure.

You see, I’ve never believed that it’s possible because Europe has never taken one side in any war of its history, never. And I think that Ukraine won on the battlefield of stories.

Of course, propaganda from the russian side goes on, and it’s very strong. I have to say that it is very strong in Bulgaria as well. But overall, I think it is decided which story has won.

Chytomo: But russian propaganda also plays with nostalgia, particularly cultural nostalgia. I see that Europe still feels nostalgic for “great russian culture,” and when they talk about “great russian culture,” they always mean the culture of the past: Dostoyevsky, Tolstoi, Pushkin, and not the culture of modern russia. But modern russia uses this European cultural nostalgia as a tool.

Georgi Gospodinov: In reality, this war is the war for the sake of the past. Putin started this war because he wanted to return — first in 1991, then he wanted to return further back into the past, as far as the Second World War. I think that it’s the final goal — to make the Third World War the way the Second World War was. In fact, my novel ends with a scene depicting the outbreak of war that fully repeats September 1st, 1939.

Chytomo: Even the time, 4 a.m., repeats…

Georgi Gospodinov: This time, I think 4:47 — it is always the most dangerous time in history. All wars start at this time. And this war started precisely at this time. It is a very threatening repetition of history. But every war takes us back to history, to the past. What is the problem? The problem is that Putin knows he cannot stay in the past for too long. He needs to send into the past other countries next to him as well. Ukraine, but also the whole of Europe. He just said: “Ok, let’s have this battle in the 1940s”, because he remembers — they have this cultural memory — that in the 1940s the Soviet Union won, and it was probably the last time when the Union was united, was a union. So, this war is for the sake of the past.

You talk about russian culture nostalgia, but I also read about russian goods, for example, russian cookies, russian bread, and other russian things…

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Chytomo: ….matryoshka dolls…

Georgi Gospodinov: …that, as we know, were of poor quality. But it happened in Bulgaria after 1989. The process I call the industrialization of nostalgia has begun. All those goods we remember from childhood. «Oh, I remember those cookies! » «Oh, I remember it from childhood! » «What a great time it was because we had this! ». So, this is nostalgia on many levels. I’ve also heard that russia has returned to the 90s. TV shows, 90s music, and some kitsch songs from the 90s are also part of the game. And it is a use of nostalgia as a weapon.

But I think that people who read, European people, who know russian literature will always find the difference between Chekhov and putin. Chekhov was one of the writers who didn’t share the imperialist vision of russia. So, I think we will be able to separate them.

Chytomo: I have a feeling that Slavic Studies around the world do not recognize imperialist propaganda in russian literature when this literature needs to be — maybe not canceled but carefully revised… We need to take a closer look and look for the reasons for the current russian attack on Ukraine. It has roots in literature as well.

Georgi Gospodinov: Yes, but I am not sure if all those politicians in russia — including putin and his circle — have ever read those writers. They just use their names. Of course, we must read them; we must discuss and interpret them to see — yes, Dostoyevsky, for sure, has something that could lead to what is happening today, but there are other authors… We must think comprehensively and be better readers than putin and his circle because I’m convinced they have never read them.

Chytomo: In your last book, you said that the goal of writing is to postpone the apocalypse. In one interview, you used a metaphor that I really liked — Scheherazade, who tells stories while facing death. Could you please tell our readers more about this metaphor?

Georgi Gospodinov: You know that Scheherazade tells stories to win herself one more, and one more, and one more day of living. She succeeded in transforming Shahryar, the murderer of women, into a better person and evoked his empathy. She was able to stop the women’s slaughter. When I was a child, the only books I borrowed from the library were written from a first-person perspective because I knew their narrator would never die. Because — and this is a metaphor — as long as you tell stories, you are alive.

Chytomo: Many Ukrainian writers are currently on the frontline as soldiers and can’t tell their stories …

Georgi Gospodinov: Yes, I know. Serhiy Zhadan…

Chytomo: Artem Chekh, Ihor Mitrov, Artem Chapeye, Yelyzaveta Zharikova, and many, many others… They do not write their stories now because they must fight to win one more day of living for themselves and us. On the other hand, there are also civilian writers who are not directly on the frontline but do not write as well because they have lost faith that words can change anything.

Georgi Gospodinov: I know, I know; I talked over Skype with Katia Petrovska about the meaning and the war… But our Bulgarian newspaper translates and publishes wonderful poems written during the war. Also, the poems of some soldiers who were killed. It is beautiful poetry. You know, you don’t usually expect great poetry during the war. You rather expect poetry that can lift your spirits, the one that’s a bit pathetic… It is worth highlighting. I read really good poems. I also know Ostap Slyvynskyy, my friend, a great human being, and a translator of my novels. He has started to translate my book “Time Shelter.”

Chytomo: I know, that’s right.

Georgi Gospodinov: And he created a dictionary as well.

Chytomo: Yes, “Dictionary of War.”

Georgi Gospodinov: That’s why I think there are times when you can’t publish or write, but an author’s mind is always at work.

I hope that when the war ends, truly significant stories will be born in Ukraine. Maybe terrible stories, maybe scary ones. But wonderful stories. Because it is very important to have a right memory about what is happening now.

It might be too early for now because the war is still ongoing, but I’m sure that Ukrainian authors will create this kind of literature sooner or later. And yes, I can understand this disbelief in words because words surely can’t stop the bullets. But it is very important for the war we discussed at the beginning of our talk, the war of stories, because of a parallel war with propaganda that is now spreading throughout Europe. So, I hope that they will return their faith in stories and words. I am sure of that.

Chytomo: And the last question. I think that we must not only rethink Russian literature but also read literature that was in the Russian shadow. You started out as a poet, and you still write poetry. Could you maybe name a few Bulgarian poets who had an influence on you for those who are not familiar with Bulgarian literature?

Georgi Gospodinov: I think that some of them are translated into Ukrainian language. I must say that Yavorov is our great poet of the beginning of the 20th century. For me personally, he is very important. And Atanas Dalchev, a very philosophical poet, distant from the battles of the past. I think that those two poets were very significant for Bulgarian literature. These two, Yavorov and Dalchev, have directly shaped me and my generation.

Translation: Anastasiia Blazhko

Editing: John G Sennett