My friends, in the days and weeks and months ahead, I’m going to talk — very briefly — about some of the Ukrainian books (poetry, novels, nonfiction) on my bookshelf and why I care about them, and why you should, too.
It’s not going to be up-to-date --- if you want a roundup of the latest works of Ukrainian literature you should read, that’s the kind of thing you’ll probably find in the New York Times or Post book coverage or somewhere else, not here. If I was still at the LA Times, I’d probably have to do something like that. (Actually, a good place to start is with Yuliya Komska’s short memoirish piece “A Stained Glass in Lviv” and Alisa Lozhkina’s look at Ukrainian artists “A Suitcase, a Candle, and a Hammer: Ukrainian Artists Face the Russian Invasion” in the Los Angeles Review of Books, my regular hangout since leaving the Times 10 years ago.
So, instead, for now, I’m just going to share with you the books that I have on the shelf that, over a long time, have become like dear friends to me.
I’ve got no illusions about what I’m doing here. The world is full of morons.
There are many people—scholars, writers—who are the real experts in this area. I’m definitely not. I’m just some poor schmuck whose dad was from Western Ukraine and who cares about his heritage and who’s watching the horrors of Putin’s war on the internet and who’s feeling helpless.
If there are people out there (and of course there are) who don’t want the West to support Ukraine, who are too scared or xenophobic or upset about gas prices to think that this little country matters to the U.S., maybe what I say will make them reconsider (just for a second) even if it doesn’t change their minds.
I have no illusions or expectations here. You probably shouldn’t, either. We’ve both looked at comments threads on YouTube and elsewhere before, right?
The internet is loaded with as many morons as there are stars in the sky.
#freeUkraine