Kurosawa Ayumi
From 1993 to 2009, Kurosawa taught Japanese in Riga whilst studying Latvian literature at a Latvian university. She holds a Masters in literature, and now teaches Latvian language as well as translating literature. Essays include “Latvia in Sunrays” (2004) and “Latvia in Blue Winds”.
“Latvians are introverts” – so says the platform “Latvian Literature,” which was set up to promote Latvian literature abroad, and which organizes gatherings for translators of Latvian literature, introducing the latest writers and most-talked about books of every year and providing a chance to interact with publishers – a learning opportunity I myself take advantage of.
When it comes to well-known Latvian writers, even Vizma Belševica, nominated in her lifetime for the Nobel Prize for Literature, is only familiar to a select few. A noticeable trend in Latvian literature of recent years is towards work that seeks to reflect the history of the Latvian people. The series We. Latvia. The 20th Century began in the mid 2010s, and comprises novels by 13 contemporary writers shining a light on the past, both near and distant. One of these is Nora Ikstena’s Soviet Milk, which traces two mother-daughter relationships, reminiscent of her own mother and grandmother. As the Berlin Wall comes down, we are drawn towards a conclusion in which Soviet era trauma proves fatal. The novel was the first from Latvia to receive acclaim at the London Book Fair, and has been translated into 13 languages.
With its follow-up series on Latvian literary classics entitled I… , publisher Dienas Grāmata is in the process of attempting to preserve social memory by releasing a succession of novels based on thirteen writers. In I Will Never Die, Arno Jundze resurrects the final hours of Eduards Veidenbaums, a poet surrounded by mystery and who died an early death, on the 155th anniversary of his birth.
On the other hand, the next generation of writers, assuming an air of self-deprecation and alienation, seem to want to deliberately remove themselves from “literature.” The sense of reality and wit embodied by Doom 94 by Jānis Joņevs, who claims his roots lie in the 1990s’ glorification of chaos and collapse, was lauded by a diverse audience. Andris Kalnozols made his debut during the pandemic with the much-discussed Call Me Calendar, the unexpectedly impactful unspoken story of a protagonist with intellectual disabilities set out in diary form.
With December, Joņevs seemed to have broken into crime writing, as he took on a series of real-life murders from the 1990s, poring over the newspaper articles and interviews of the day. Yet with his latest work, Missing, which features captioned snapshots of real-life missing pet posters, the author seems to defy genre.
At the forefront of children’s literature is publishing house Liels un Mazs, headed by the poet Inese Zandere. Anete Melece, author of The Kiosk, selected for the 100 Outstanding Picturebooks list, stands out for her humour as both illustrator and animator. Even in early-years books, there is a tendency to deal with topics such as aging and death, gender and the environment, encouraging tolerance and understanding. In the young adult department, Luīze Pastore’s book The Laime Children, about a legendary real-life Lativian adventurer, won her the BolognaRagazzi New Horizons award for children’s literature.
Poetry is overwhelmingly popular, with new, original voices constantly emerging. There is continual demand for beautifully bound anthologies to give as celebratory gifts, and the number of books of poetry published far exceeds that of novels. The poetry event held annually in early September shines a light on that year’s newly published poets, and prizes are awarded. Audiences throng to the many recitals to hear poets read from their own work, engulfed in passionate silence.
That many works of Ukrainian literature have recently been translated into Latvian, as well as the ongoing publication of poetry on themes pertinent to the situation in Ukraine, speaks to an empathy and support for freedom and rights, and a desire to better understand others. Literary and cultural website Satori.lv is a place for writers to share their latest writings, such as Jana Egle’s poem “The Morning of February 24th,” and Joņevs’ essay “Ukraine Memo,” which bring home the visceral threat of the situation in Ukraine.
For a country that has tended to respond to regional affairs with conservative values and nationalism, Latvia’s literature is far from “introverted.” In fact, it is alive with the multi-faceted inner worlds of Latvian-speakers, whose antenna reach far and wide, at the same time functioning as a bastion of good sense in the fight against intolerance.
English Translation: Bethan Jones
