As
I grew older, I discovered that I had at my disposal a wealth of
new stories, tales unwritten in books. I was introduced to an oral
tradition by my grandparents, who would eagerly share stories from
their own childhood in Western Ukraine. Many of my visits with my
grandparents after Ukrainian school on Saturdays would consist of
fresh potato varenyky, rye bread and butter, and folk tales passed
down for generations.
My
novel is fiction, but I drew from their stories and the tales I
heard from other Ukrainian American elders. While many were eager
to share anecdotes from their youth and stories from home, it has
only been in the last decade that these elders have begun to speak
out about their experiences during World War II. Fear kept many
of their voices silent for over half a century.
Only
after Ukraine achieved independence on August 24, 1991, did some
began to feel safe enough to talk about their experiences. They
began to open up the doors to the past; doors that remained tightly
sealed for over 50 years. Their trend of self-revelation and a reclaiming
of the past were my inspiration.
My
novel is written from Nadya Lysenko’s perspective, who was
a young woman during WWII. Hers is a woman’s experience of
war and sacrifice, a story of revelation and resolution. Nadya has
secrets that she never shared with her husband or family. Hers is
a past ridden with guilt and regret. Yet Nadya realizes that if
she dies without disclosing the secrets of her youth, her memories
will die with her. Only by sharing the stories of her family and
friends can she allow them to live on in the hearts of her children
and grandchildren. Nadya chooses to remain silent…but sometimes
the Universe has a different plan.
I
brought to this novel my love of mythology and appreciation of folklore.
The Ukrainian people have a rich cultural heritage that serves as
the backdrop for Nadya’s story. Thus it also became a story
about myth, both cultural and personal. The mythic qualities create
a sense of magic realism in the story, for Nadya’s daily reality
is rich in old superstitions and traditions. She still tosses the
first crumb of bread into the stove for the hearth spirits and knocks
on woods to avoid tempting fate. In her world, dreams can come true,
ghosts do whisper in the night, and a fortuneteller’s cards
can predict the future.
The
relationship of humanity with nature is also critical in the novel.
It is not a supernatural experience; rather it is a hyper-natural
reality. The Divine is present in the world, and everything is interconnected.
Ancient Ukrainian people believed that the forces in the spiritual
world affect human beings and their relationships. Even after Christianity
was brought to Ukraine in the 10th century, the Old Ways still survived
alongside the new religion. These traditions were filtered into
the holidays and remained a part of everyday life. Many survived
the immigration to America and are still a part of Ukrainian American
culture.
To
this day I don’t allow whistling in the house for fear of
attracting malevolent spirits, and I light candles along with my
prayers. I hope to show that there is wisdom and beauty in the old
ways and in the old stories. We have much to learn from them and
from the elders in our community who are the trustees of this wisdom.
I
wrote this book to honor my grandmothers and all women who have
lived through war and lost themselves in the struggle to survive.
Too often they have been silenced, their stories unrecorded in the
annals of history. It is my hope that this novel speaks with their
voices, preserves their legacy, and reveals the power of stories—to
remind, to heal, to connect, to teach, and to transform.