Vilnius Interviews Part One: Marius Burokas

This month, I found myself in Vilnius, Lithuania, a city so proud of its literary history, it has a whole street dedicated to it. I took a snowy stroll down Literatu Street where artworks are mounted on the walls to commemorate those who have influenced the Lithuanian literary community. This small Eastern European capital city is also the home of some impressive bookstores. At Mint Vinetu, local and expat writers sip tea among walls lined with used books in almost every European language. After I tried a slice of their salted caramel cake, I headed to Eureka Books where I scored some eclectic titles that have been sitting in my Amazon cart such as Leonora Carrington’s The Hearing Trumpet. After nearly clearing them out, I decided it was time to get to know more about the literary history of this city which was occupied by the Soviet Union until the 1990s. At the Writers’ Union, a Soviet relic that continues to function in its modern form today, I met with two experts who helped me better understand Lithuanian literature and culture. This is the first installment of that series.

My first interview was with Marius Burokas (b. 1977), a poet, freelance writer, translator and editor-in-chief of online magazine of Lithuanian literature Vilnius Review. He is the author of four poetry books including his most recent, Of Clean Being (švaraus buvimo), which was published in 2018. His selected poetry book in English Now I Understand will be published by Parthian Books in April.

His poetry has been translated into Polish, Russian, Slovenian, English, German, French, Ukrainian and other languages. Marius Burokas has translated poetry of American, Canadian, Australian poets including Charles Simic, Walter S. Merwin, William Carlos Williams, Charles Bukowski, Ted Hughes, and Alan Ginsberg.

Marius has been a Lithuanian Writers’ Union member since 2007 and the member of Lithuanian Association of Literary Translators since 2013. He lives in Vilnius.

So, we’re sitting in the Writers’ Union building. Could you start by telling a bit about the history of this place?

The mansion was built in 1868 and in 1882 it was bought by count Ignat Karo Korvin-Milewski, who turned this property into private residential palace. The house was renovated and rebuilt a couple of times and in 1894 it was bought by count Anthony Tyszkiewicz, who lived there for fifteen years. He ran out of money and the palace was sold in an auction in 1909. It was purchased by Duchess Maria Skórzewskich Ogínska. She owned the palace until the Second World War. 

After the Second World War, the palace, nationalized during the war, was given into the hands of Lithuanian SSR Soviet Writers’ and Lithuanian SSR Soviet Composers’ Unions. Subsequently, the editorial offices of the monthly Pergalė (from 1945) and the weekly Literatūra ir Menas (from 1946) were located here. For two years, the writer and Writers’ Union director, Petras Cvirka, lived in the eastern building. This turned out to be an important fact that enabled the granting of the building the status of a national monument: in 1973, it was listed in the register of Lithuanian cultural monuments not only for the local significance of the architecture but also as a historical monument. By around 1966, the complex was solely occupied by writers.

The house has many legends. One of them says the duchess leaving Lithuania sold it to the first Writers’ Union chairman for five roubles. The other claims that the ghost of the old Duchess wanders the huge stairs and halls at night, a pale figure creeping along creaking parquet floors. I have not seen her myself, but know some writers who have (maybe after a bottle or two).

Now there’s the Writers’ Union publishing house, a literary monthly office, a bookshop, and a library. There’s even an old sauna somewhere but no one uses it any more. The building is not in great condition but it’s difficult to repair because it is protected by some kind of architectural inheritance so you cannot change anything without permission.

People come to photograph for weddings, and for filming, but mostly it’s for writers. There’s a big hall for readers and lectures, and exhibitions so it’s a bit like a cultural center.

When did the Writers’ Union begin and how has it evolved?

The Writers Section of the Lithuanian Artists Association was active during the Independence years (1920s, the beginning of 1930s). In 1932 the Association of Lithuanian Writers was founded. It’s headquarters were in Kaunas, the provisional capital of Lithuania. Its activities were disrupted by occupation and annexation of Lithuania.

The Soviet Lithuania Writers Union started in 1945 and it was, at that time, a Soviet institution. Writers who were accepted by the Soviet Union were given privileges by being in the Union. It also proved that you were not underground, that you were not writing against the Soviet regime. It was used as some kind of formal control force. It was a usual practice in those times. I think the number of writers was around 300 or 400, which is around how many there are today.

In the ‘90s, in many other former Soviet republics, writers’ unions just ceased to be. This one was kept. It changed a bit and became freer, but the structure and the building stayed the same. Writers who were considered illegal by the Soviet authorities were accepted into the Writers’ Union and given that credibility. Unofficially, their work was being read even during Soviet times. People were copying manuscripts to share with people and hiding them somewhere and just reading at night. Especially for foreign writers whose work was banned and also for Lithuanian immigrants with books published, mostly in Chicago, Baltimore, and other Lithuanian cultural centers. The biggest Lithuanian community was in Chicago, actually. The intelligentsia who could run away all ran away, mostly to the United States and Canada. That’s actually how I find most of my translators today. They are second and even third generation Lithuanians interested in literature who speak English and Lithuanian. Sometimes we have issues at the London book fair, for example, because most of our translations are done in American English, rather than British English. Now, though, after the huge wave of emigration to the UK and Ireland we have had in past 10 years I think there is a possibility of many Lithuanian and English speaking and writing translators and writers from these countries.

Now, you have to have two books published to be accepted, as well as the approval of the council. There aren’t many privileges; you’re a member and you gain some credibility through that, although it’s not as important as it was even 15 or 20 years ago.

What was Lithuanian literature like during the Soviet occupation?

You had to be loyal. If you wanted to publish poetry, for example, you had to publish one or two poems in praise of the Soviet power. If you didn’t want to do that, your book would not be published. I will recite the professor Rimvydas Šilbajoris here, he had put it shortly and precisely: “Lithuanian Soviet Writers’ Union, patterned on the Soviet Writers’ Union. This organization has the power to determine the choice of themes, political loyalties and literary interests of each individual member through a complicated mechanism of controls emanating from the policy-making body of the Union—its Communist Party organization. No member of the Union can get his work published unless it has been thoroughly discussed and approved by the representatives of the Party and his fellow-writers. It is not officially forbidden to be a writer without joining the Union, but such a writer will find it next to impossible to appear in print, since the publishing houses obey the orders of the Party and would not dare to publish anything that is likely to be subsequently criticized and denounced by its spokesmen. Thus Lithuanian writers discovered that in order to remain in the field of literature they had to renounce the very thing that makes writing worthwhile — the freedom to follow their own creative vision, wherever it may lead.”

There was a boom in the beginning of the 1990s, just after we gained independence, when all of the manuscripts that were originally banned by the Soviets, all writings of exile writers flooded back into Lithuania and were published. This flood probably ended in the 2000s and now we just publish new and exciting Lithuanian literature.

What is popular in Lithuanian publishing now?

We do not differ a lot from mainstream Europe. Nonfiction is rising in popularity for Lithuanian writers. Poetry is the strongest, I think, in Lithuania and the best quality. We still do not have science fiction, no thrillers, no detective novels. I don’t know what the reason is but we don’t have our own popular literature like that. Romance is very popular and historical novels have become very popular in the last five or six  years, mostly about Lithuanian history.

We have a lot of translations, as well, mostly from English and American books. Julian Barnes is constantly published and is very popular here. Charles Bukowski is also very popular. Of course, we’re oriented towards the prizes; Man Booker, for example. All of those famous names are being translated. The last book by Salman Rushdie came out in Lithuanian almost at the same time as English. There used to be a much bigger gap in time between when a book would come out in English and when the Lithuanian translation was available. But now it’s almost nonexistent.

It used to be that Lithuanians read more translated fiction. But now we are started to gain more interest in Lithuanian writing. There was a book fair two weeks ago and it was visited by more than 67,000 people. For us, that’s a lot. It was a big event with readings and lectures and a book fair so many Lithuanians drove in to buy their stack of books for the year. I spoke with the publishers after and they were very happy.

There seems to be a very lively literary community here in Vilnius.

It’s very lively, there’s always something happening. We have two big international poetry festivals. One is in May, it is called Poetry Spring and it lasts two weeks, and it’s all over Lithuania. People are reading in cultural centers, community spaces and libraries all over the country. The second is Poetry Autumn in October for four days in a small resort town in the south called Druskininkai. That one is mostly for poets, writers, and publishers. It’s free and it’s open to everyone but it’s a great place for people in the industry to get to know each other and share their work.

There are always readings going on in book shops and bars in Vilnius, you can find it all. It’s a lot of young people doing new things, different things. There is a lot of slam poetry and poetry being read with music. I think we are trying a lot of new forms so there’s a huge variety. It’s mostly the younger generation and it’s mostly poetry.

Do you think there’s anything in particular about this city that helps artists create work?

I used to say to people you have to give the city time because it sneaks up on you. It’s not a stunning city; it has a nice old town but it’s like a hidden gem and you have to stay here at least a week to know those nooks and crannies.

We also have a large mix of nationalities here in Vilnius, it has always been sort of a melting pot. Polish, Belarusian, Russian, Lithuanian, and others. Lithuanians were actually some kind of the minority until World War 2. Nowadays people who live here can at least understand Polish and Russian a bit, and most people speak them as well.

Does that diversity come through in the literature?

For those that live here, poets and prose writers, it’s a part of literature, it’s a part of our consciousness. Half of my poems are about the city. A lot of young poets write about the city. It’s a constant part of our literature.

The younger generation are trying to piece together Lithuanian history in their writing. They’re trying to bring up issues that were silenced before like, for example, the Holocaust, the genocide in Lithuania in which Lithuanians participated. It’s a shameful part of our history which no one wants to talk about because no one knows if their grandfather, for example, was involved in that. Nobody will tell you.

Family histories here are like balls of string. Almost everybody has a grandfather or grandmother who were in Siberia. Almost everybody has somebody that immigrated to the UK or the US, almost everybody has family members who were communists. So it’s still really hard to speak about these histories.

Vilnius used to be a Jewish town. It was also a Polish town and a Belarusian town. All those nationalities claim Vilnius as their own because there are writers from each one who have written about the city. There are artists, politicians, all kinds of public figures. You have to consider these histories because it’s not just Lithuanian literature, it’s a part of some larger region with four or five nationalities. You have to know them and consider them and keep them in mind.

How long has the Vilnius Review been around?

It has been in print for about 20 years. We have always done essays, poetry, prose, and reviews from the most interesting Lithuanian writers and translated into English. Earlier it was only a paper edition and it was hard to distribute in foreign countries, so I brought the journal online for better access (vilniusreview.com). It is more flexible and we can work with different media: record writers voices, film them, publish comics, maps, all kind of interactive stuff.

We just started doing short poetry videos, for example, with English subtitles. You can find them here and on our YouTube channel.

I get some funding from cultural foundations, but it’s not much. We do what we can. I try to pay everybody but sometimes there’s just no money. I hate not paying writers for their work so I try to give just a little bit.

Why do you publish the journal in English?

It’s more accessible to an international audience. Since English became this world’s lingua franca, we publish the magazine in English. Anyway, we are trying to encompass other languages too. The 2019 paper edition of “Vilnius Review” will be in German. I would like Spanish, French, Russian, Polish editions too, but I lack working force and money is an issue as well. But it is possible.

What do you look for in the writing you publish in the journal?

I look for authors here who can be interesting to an international audience. There are some very popular Lithuanian writers who we will not go to because their writing is just too hermetic and have too many local realities. We want to publish writing that could be popular in US, Canada, UK and elsewhere, for example. There are certain poets and prose writers here that should gain a more international audience.

What do you see in the future for Lithuanian literature?

I see more interest in English speaking countries for translated literature. Translations are read more and more nowadays and it’s our chance to get known. I think the centers of publishing in New York, London and elsewhere could change in ten or twenty years because there are so many different voices being heard. There is a rise in African literature, for example, and Latin American literature, Middle Eastern literature. We might not be as interesting as those, we’re just a small country in Eastern Europe and Eastern Europe is not as fashionable now as it once was. But I think there is more demand for translated literature from all over the world and I think it’s our chance to get our writing out there.

Actually, the Lithuanian Culture Institute is doing a lot to popularize Lithuanian literature. Lithuania was a special guest at the Frankfurt Book Fair last year and there were more than 20 Lithuanian authors published in German. This April, Baltic Countries (Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia) will be a special Market Focus in London Book Fair and there will be more than 10 Lithuanian books coming in English in UK. So, this is a good start.

We are still thinking how to reach American readers – it is huge faraway market mostly interested in itself, but maybe there is a chance to get into it.

Riley Mang is LAR’s Editor-at-Large. Based in France, she also teaches English and writes book reviews. Find more of her work here.