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Nina Murray: Poetry in the US is read by academics and soldiers
07.06.2025
How does it feel to dream of being a geneticist, to end up in Nebraska, to work for the State Department, and to translate the most important works of Ukrainian literature during sabbaticals? We ask Nina Murray, a renowned Ukrainian translator, poet, and diplomat, another “engine behind the scenes” who is promoting Ukrainian literature abroad.
Murray was born in Lviv and graduated from the Ivan Franko National University of Lviv with a Master’s degree in linguistics and, almost by accident, creative writing. Murray’s translation of Lesia Ukrainka’s dramatic poem “Cassandra,” which became the basis for the work’s first professional production in the UK, occupies a special place in her translation work.
This next edition of the Ambassadors series explores why poetry is appreciated by professionals and the military in America, what defines a skilled translator, and the vision of a lifelong pension for translators, along with the concept behind the Books of Tomorrow publishing house.
Chytomo: What are you doing in Washington and how did you end up here?
Nina Murray: Since 2011, I have served as an American diplomat with the U.S. Department of State, holding a series of one- to three-year assignments. In the spring of 2021—during the waning phase of the COVID-19 pandemic and prior to the full-scale invasion—I took an unpaid sabbatical. This allowed me to temporarily focus only on translations. This leave lasted until the fall of 2023, when I returned to the diplomatic service in Kyiv. After completing my work there, I received a new assignment in Washington, D.C. I have since retired from the State Department to take on the job of the Connect Program Director with Razom for Ukraine. I live and work in D.C., going to work just like other people.
Chytomo: Going to work “just like other people,” how do you find time for translations?
Nina Murray: I don’t (laughs). While on active duty—particularly at embassies abroad, like in Vilnius or Kyiv—I have limited time and energy for translation work. That’s why my work cycle looks like this: during active diplomatic service, I focus on my main job and take a sabbatical for translations.
To manage my availability for translation projects, I set up an auto-reply on my email that warns that one shouldn’t expect a quick response from me during this period. By the weekend, I often don’t even have time to check my personal email inbox.
I can set aside an extra day off if I happen to have a three-day weekend for small projects (up to 5,000-6,000 words), and I’m very careful about big projects. At the beginning of my diplomatic career, I was simultaneously working on a translation of Oksana Zabuzhko’s “The Museum of Abandoned Secrets.” It was possible because I was learning Lithuanian as part of my job. My day consisted of six hours of Lithuanian in the morning, followed by some rest, and after that I switched to Ukrainian–English translation. It was a heroic effort, and now, 10 years later, I can’t work like that anymore.
Chytomo: How do you choose works for translation? What motivates you to take on a particular text, apart from the volume?
Nina Murray: To put it simply, the text has to “click.” It means the text must resonate with me so that I realize that I am the translator who can serve it best. Not all texts work for me like that. There are some that are difficult for me.
I analyze the author. I try to choose those whose works have not yet been translated. This is a rational approach to maximize the “return on investment” — to make the translation have the greatest effect. I take into account whether the author has other books that may be translated in the future.
If I think another translator can do a better job, I’m happy to pass the job on to a colleague.
Chytomo: Can it happen that the text resonates but the author “doesn’t click”?
Nina Murray: Often, the translator who approaches the author may not be known to them. In fact, most of our authors are unfamiliar with the people translating their works. If a translator were to contact me and say, “I really enjoy your poetry and would like to translate it,” I’m unlikely to say no. More likely, I’ll respond with, “Sure, give it a try — let’s see what comes of it.” What follows depends entirely on how the process unfolds.
If the collaboration is successful, the working relationship develops over time. Editorial work continues, and the translator begins to ask questions. I recently read that translation is both the most attentive form of reading and the most careful form of writing. It often raises questions the author may never have considered. In some cases, translating a book can take even longer than writing it.
Chytomo: You have experience in translating a wide variety of literature, from classics to modern, which is a powerful start. Should young translators start with renowned names and classics, or should they practice on young or contemporary authors?
Nina Murray: I find this to be a paradox. When I began in 2006, Ukrainian literature in translation was scarce, and we needed to find ways to promote it. To convince publishers to take interest, we had to begin with established, prominent authors — someone well-known, with a great publication history, good book sales, and a collection of awards.
Today, translators can build upon the foundation we laid. I already see myself as part of the older generation of translators.
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Chytomo: Is there a difference in what will resonate with an English-speaking audience? What are the fundamental differences?
Nina Murray: Translating from Ukrainian into English, the biggest difference I see is the style.
Ukraine still lacks a fully developed culture and institution of literary editing, unlike English-speaking countries, where there are distinct editorial roles—such as proofreaders, developmental editors, and others—each with a clear understanding of their duties and the stylistic norms of the English language.
English stylistics is strongly shaped by the grammar of the English language, which comes with well-defined rules about what is acceptable. By contrast, Ukrainian allows for greater stylistic flexibility, which can sometimes seem odd or unnatural when rendered in English.
This makes the question of translation equivalence especially important. If a Ukrainian text is fluid, accessible, and not experimental (for instance, not like the writings of Yurko Prokhasko or Yuri Izdryk), then the English version should reflect that same clarity.
Translators should not introduce elements that aren’t present in the original. For example, Yuriy Andrukhovych’s prose is quite “transparent” in Ukrainian, and the English translation should preserve that ease of comprehension. Similarly, Ukrainka’s dramatic works — written for performance, rich with emotion, and designed to move the action forward — should not be overinterpreted or made more complex in translation.
Chytomo: Where did you develop this level of English? Tell us a little bit about your professional career. After all, Murray is not a Western Ukrainian surname.
Nina Murray: My last name is Shevchuk. When I graduated from high school in Lviv, I took second place in the German language competition and third place in English. At the time, German was my main language, and I thought I mastered it a bit. It was much more difficult with English.
The times were tough back then, and my parents sat me down and said: “You are going to study foreign languages.” I was surprised, because I was planning to study biology, but I agreed. My parents found tutors, and I started studying foreign languages.
In my first year at university, we had an extraordinary teacher, Oksana Hlyva, who now teaches in Canada. She was very strict, and the English Department at Lviv University was known for its demanding discipline.
I realized that my English was very poor and that I had to study hard. Later, it got better, and then the U.S. State Department sent me to study in Nebraska.
Chytomo: Hold on. How does one go from Lviv University to the U.S. State Department?
Nina Murray: It was a student exchange program. Well, we couldn’t choose where to go, so I was sent to Nebraska, where there is not much to do, you can only study or work. I studied American literature from before 1865, in particular “Moby Dick” by Herman Melville. I had to read it in full, understand it, be able to discuss it, and create a project based on it.
I was fascinated by T.S. Eliot and similar authors. Nebraska was a bit boring, so I started studying creative writing. It was a revelation that one can learn something like that. At the creative writing course, I met my future husband — a tall, smart guy with red hair and a leather jacket.
When I returned to Ukraine, I was credited with American literature, but I got a “C” in theoretical grammar. I went to work as an English teacher at International House. There, I was taught how to teach and what grammar was in action.
I got married later. We decided to get a fiance’s visa, go to the United States, and get married there. My husband was accepted to law school in Nebraska with a full scholarship. In order not to stay at home, I applied for a Master’s program in creative writing, specializing in poetry.
My breakthrough in English came from living and talking with my husband, a man who writes prose and has a great style and memory. He read literary magazines, which we would later discuss. At first, it was not easy; when my husband came to Ukraine with me to wait for my visa, my face hurt for the first two weeks because I had to speak English all the time.
Chytomo: What about your identity? Who do you feel like?
Nina Murray: Still not sure! (laughs). Now it is quite clear to Ukrainians what their identity requires — we need to win the war. Victory is the first and most important thing. If you ask me how I understand myself, paradoxically, the best way is as a diplomat. At least for a long time, I perceived myself that way.
It is difficult for me to define myself. I am a person who understands two cultures. A person who constantly works with different cultures. Not in a theoretical way, but in a way that requires practical action and something to be done. The State Department has a professional channel, the profession of cultural diplomat. With each project, it becomes clearer that direct engagement with another culture or its art — and even more so, participating in its creation, like teaching someone to decorate Easter eggs — has a real impact. It’s always a singular experience, and fundamentally democratic on an existential level.
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Chytomo: Has the perception of Ukrainian literature in the United States changed in general, and how has the state of translation changed in this environment?
Nina Murray: Well, first of all, we have raised two generations of translators. Russian studies used to be total. And, of course, it remains so for the most part, but there are significant shifts. The [Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies] is actively working to change this, and it’s great news that Vitaliy Chernetsky has been elected president — his leadership promises even more progress. In the past, you’d attend a conference and find six panels dedicated to Tolstoy, while Ukraine might be represented by just one. At most, there would be a few additional sessions on Balkan languages.
Russian literature was translated because Russian is a strategic language with federal funding. Because of this, a circle of Russianists and translators has formed who communicate with each other. There is someone to translate and write reviews, which is crucial. A book is published for a reason, and a whole ecosystem is formed around it. For example, there is a Slavic and East European Journal. You publish a review there, someone sees it, and buys the book to teach it at a college.
Now, HURI [Harvard Ukrainian Research Institute — Harvard University] is doing a great job of publishing Ukrainian works. The situation with translations of Ukrainian literature has improved, and there is a new generation of translators who continue this work.
Our generation, Iryna Vikyrchak, Oksana Lutsyshyna, and me, we are practically the same age. Vikyrchak went to America for the first time on the same exchange program as I did. I recently looked at who works at the Razom Charity Organization in New York, and almost all of them are exchange program alumni. This is an extremely important long-term investment, although it does not produce effects immediately, but in ten to fifteen years. By the way, at one stage, Ukraine had perhaps the largest number of places in State Department exchange programs and still has many such slots.
There is another important aspect and that is military exchange. Countries with long-term military cooperation have entire generations of people who have studied abroad. For example, Pakistan has generations of officers who studied here in the United States at officer schools and academies. In such institutions, they are required to read, including poetry. The military is one of my best readers, by the way. I send my poems to the military men I know.
In my diplomatic class, there are people who came from military service, retired, and went to work as civilians. When I practiced sending out the “Poem of the Week” or something like that to my class, to my colleagues, it was always the military who responded. They would write: “I read it — wonderful.” They are taught somehow differently. This is something special, but a fact.
Chytomo: Quite unexpected! The involvement of the American military has become a surprisingly effective way to shape Ukraine’s image and a valuable point of entry.
Nina Murray: An extraordinary entry point indeed, and it is real. It is the one that deserves discussion, reflection, and thoughtful strategic planning. Do you know how many civilians and military personnel are working on the problem of Ukraine’s victory? Thousands of people. This is a huge institution, thousands of people who may have never heard of Ukraine before. In 2021, on the eve of the invasion, they were put in charge of this “portfolio” and since then…
Chytomo: Which book do you think has the greatest potential to become successful in the American market?
Nina Murray: “Lazarus” by Svitlana Taratorina. I mean it. For a book to be successful, first of all, it must not be from the “high shelf.” It has to belong to a certain genre. A compelling science fiction or a gripping detective novel, for example.
How did Scandinavian literature click? Through Scandinavian noir. It’s always winter, night, depression there, and someone is killed. It began with “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” and took off from there.
“Lazarus” is a richly atmospheric and skillfully written novel, with strong potential for a high-quality English translation. Its narrative aligns well with an existing English-language literary style — something like Victorian steampunk infused with mystical elements. There is already a related show on Amazon: “Carnival Row,” about a fantasyVictorian era with a detective line. That is, there is a niche into which “Lazarus” fits perfectly.
For a book to become a hit, it is useful to have two more sequels, so that there is a trilogy. I’ve heard that Taratorina has started thinking about a sequel, and I asked her about it once. Zenia [Tompkins] and I have a sample translation of “Lazarus.” If necessary, I can take a vacation and do a full translation, because I really like this book.
Chytomo: Scandinavia has noir. How about Ukraine? What is the brand of Ukraine in America?
Nina Murray: It doesn’t exist yet. It mainly depends on what kind of America you live in. First of all, there is no single America. There is a federal bureaucracy in Washington, D.C., and there are people here who are professionally involved in Ukraine. There is a large Ukrainian church, many volunteer organizations. People here have heard of Ukraine, understand something, and have a “community.” New York has its own, Boston has its own, Chicago has another. Now, my friend in Oklahoma teaches world literature, so she started teaching Ukrainian language and literature to students there as well.
The issue of a country’s brand is crucial. Some countries, such as Qatar, hire professionals to create a national brand. Other countries, such as France or Italy, have a brand built into the cultural and economic matrix of the country. For example, France invented the concept of fashion, so it cannot be rebranded. There are countries where the government supports culture, such as China. This is also an option, but it requires stable funding and a long-term strategy that is independent of parliamentary changes.
Chytomo: A country’s brand is a long-term endeavor that should be based on the nation’s cultural heritage. If you “invent” it, it will not last long without continuous support.
Nina Murray: Continuous support. Exactly! For example, in the UK, there is the BBC, which is funded by the public and is the largest commissioner of new symphonic music and theater. The BBC World Service and BBC Documentary have become world-famous educational resources.
As for Ukraine, the military aspect is now very attractive to international audiences. The image of Ukrainians who lived peacefully but, when the war came, rolled up their sleeves and went to work can be part of the brand.
There is also the image of an Eastern European woman who does everything, looks good and manages everything, including her husband. There is a perception that if you want to achieve something in life, you should marry an Eastern European girl. Look at my husband: the guy lived in Nebraska without bothering anyone and read books. Then he married a Ukrainian woman. Now he’s in diplomatic service (laughs).
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There is a perception of Ukrainians as creative people who can do a lot with minimal resources. Hardworking and creative.
Chytomo: What should one do to keep this wave of attention? What would you dream about?
Nina Murray: If I had substantial financial means, I would set up a scholarship for translators and launch a lifelong basic income initiative for them, beginning at age 25. I would also create a translator exchange program and support their enrollment in Masters of Fine Arts programs focused on literature.
Then I would establish a publishing house called Books of Tomorrow with improved efficiency, possibly using artificial intelligence for administrative and advertising functions. The main problem is not finding translators, but how to keep them in the literary ecosystem. If I were Rockefeller, the first thing I would do is invest in creating a stable environment for the development of the translation industry.
Chytomo: So there’s another sabbatical coming soon?
Nina Murray: I don’t know. I believe I’ve done my duty to the translation business. We’ll see.
Chytomo: What if we call Svitlana Taratorina?
Nina Murray: You really know how to make a convincing case! (laughs)
Translation: Iryna Saviuk
Copy editing: Anthony Nijssen
This publication is sponsored by the Chytomo’s Patreon community
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