Victor Martinovich: Crafting Universes Through Literature

Victor Martinovich: A Literary Journey

Victor Martinovich has transitioned from a writer for a select group of intellectuals to a nationally acclaimed author. His books fly off the shelves, and discussions about his work resonate from the philology department of Belarusian State University to vocational schools in the provinces. We met with Victor just before his international trip, which, as it turned out, was also related to books. Our conversation covered not only literature but also Belarusian cinema, theater, and society, revealing that the writer has much to say in both literary and public spheres.

A Writer’s Struggles and Triumphs

A military man once said, “I fought in the war and I hate war.” What, in your opinion, can a writer dislike about literature? In this craft, there is little that is pleasant. When you write a book, you dream about its presentation and the crowds of people who will come to hear you. You imagine basking in the glory, but reality often differs. By the time of the presentation, you feel a mix of slight revulsion, cosmic fatigue, and a sense of having already moved on, as if the book is an old flame you’ve already parted ways with. The moment of joy is fleeting, like a spark of inspiration when a plot unfolds in your mind. Everything else is pure torment.

Books: Stillborn Children or Mini Big Bangs?

How do you feel about the statement that books are stillborn children? Only if we counter it with the idea that a book is a mini Big Bang, giving birth to an entire universe. On one hand, they are stillborn children; on the other, they are live-born cosmos that fills all space. In any case, for yourself, they change your world.

From Niche to National: Martinovich’s Literary Journey

I recall one of your first meetings with readers. You mentioned that your texts in Belarus were for 200 intellectuals. The situation has clearly changed. If a print run of 2000 sells out in two weeks, in Russia that’s roughly like selling 200,000 in the same time. Have you become a mass-market writer, or has the reader made an intellectual leap in recent times? I think there are truly mass-market writers in Belarus who can be compared to 200,000 print runs in Russia. For example, Natalia Batrakova. Her print runs are in the hundreds of thousands. She sells 3000 copies in a week or two. My sales are more modest. In terms of print runs, there’s nothing to be proud of. I still feel like I’m writing for three hundred people. When there are scenes of recognition in the city, they are rather surprising. I think the novel “Styudzony Vyaray,” which I once presented here, was largely marginal in its plot. It was initially an attempt to talk to those three hundred intellectuals. Now I’m interested in talking to a wider range of people. People in Belarus who read books are not quite ordinary; they are a special caste.

Belarusian Context and Beyond

How interested are you in the Belarusian context? Do you try to break out of it? This spring in the Austrian city of Innsbruck, there was a play dedicated to Ukraine and Maidan. The narrative was from the perspective of an Ministry of Internal Affairs employee. I have experience going beyond the Belarusian identity. But the thing is, I lack air in such a situation. It’s much harder for me. I can write about Belarusians living in the USA, and I’m interested in writing about guys from the Automotive District who fight with Turks in Berlin. But to imagine myself as a Turk beating up guys from the Automotive District in Berlin is difficult because I lack the breath. I lack knowledge of the context. I spend a lot of time communicating with Muslims and reading Islamic books.

National Narratives and Universal Stories

So, in fact, your books can always be presented with the prefix “national”? Probably, yes. But on the other hand, Pasternak from the Russian publishing house “Vremya” says that he is launching this book not as a national one, but as a story about a girl whose nationality is not so important. Just as a human destiny. And he is convinced that the book is read that way. His colleagues from Moscow read it not as a Belarusian national story, but as a story about this ghetto.

Belarus in the European Consciousness

I always thought that Belarus was interesting to Europe. But judging by my European acquaintances, I wouldn’t say that’s the case. Do you think there is any interest in our country? It’s like in the fairy tale about Alice in Wonderland: she had to make great efforts just to stay in place. That’s the situation. We have to make great efforts to stand on equal terms within the framework in which a German or Frenchman is born. Our country does not exist on the map of consciousness of most Europeans. It simply does not exist. Here is still the Soviet Union, we are still part of Russia, no matter what. There are several plots, speculation on which can lead to some raised eyebrows. Suppose something related to the regime or post-Soviet gangster stories. Look at what Alexievich is doing. She talks about the Soviet Union, and this attracts attention. But it seems to me that after a certain level—and this is very visible in Svetlana—you find some voice that can still be heard. That is, by default, we are not visible and not heard. By default, this is not interesting. But now, what we have with the novel “Mova,” which is translated, is working. It is bought, it is talked about. We need to make more moves to stay in sight.

The Sacralization of Belarus

When there was a scandal on Facebook related to Baradulin, everyone took his side. I can’t imagine a European country where they would write something bad about a European writer and cause a scandal. It would just go unnoticed. Don’t you think that Belarus is sacralized? Sacral traditional values, it seems to me, prevail for some reason. Probably because they are not fully established. We have to convince people that Baradulin cannot be insulted. On “Imkhoclub” I recently read an article that any Belarusian writer smells of Nazism. It’s all unfolded there. Any Belarusian writer, like Bykov, who fought against fascism, is attributed there. Such theses pass, some number of Belarusians read them. And no one grabs a revolver. In Germany, I find it hard to imagine such a situation. It seems to me, I repeat, that the passion with which we try to defend our authorities comes from the fact that not everyone considers them authorities. For many, we are still some pocket of Russia. Moreover, with some cultural garbage.

National Identity and Literary Roots

That is, on the one hand, there are the words of the president that “a Belarusian is a Russian with a quality mark,” and on the other hand, dissatisfaction with one’s national identity? The fact is that even these words of the president were said in an era when Belarus lived as an oil refinery. Now you can’t say that. The situation with Russia is now such that you can’t say that.

From Journalism to Literature

Jim Jarmusch came to cinema from music, Leonard Cohen came to literature from music. Can it be said that you came to literature from journalism, or are these two completely different things for you? I started my writing while being an editor, a journalist for “Belgazeta.” This is an important part of my life, I take it seriously. Coming to literature from journalism, I constantly faced a dismissive attitude towards myself. Like, “you’re a journalist, you’re not a real writer.” Such things.

For further reading, you can visit the Wikipedia page about Victor Martinovich.