How can I know what I think, until I see what I say?” (E. M. Forster). How much of your writing surprises you?
When I write, I think more clearly and more slowly. This sometimes takes me to unexpected turns and ideas. I love these moments – when I realize that I have written something slightly different from what I wanted to write.
What is the first thing you remember reading or being read to?
The Wizard of Oz. I remember being surprised by the character who felt uncomfortable without a brain and dreamt of having one.
Is there a particular sentence that has stayed with you throughout your life?
Since 1985, it’s lived its own life in my head, constantly arguing with me. I heard it from someone in Odessa when I was serving in the army as a prison guard. “When you love your homeland, it doesn’t matter who governs your country.” This phrase had one meaning in the 1980s, then, after the collapse of the USSR, its meaning changed. During that chaotic period, in some ways, I agreed with it more than I did in the 1980s. More recently, my attitude toward this phrase has grown negative, but I haven’t forgotten it. I inserted it into the thoughts of one of the main characters in my trilogy, Geography of a Single Gunshot. By the way, this phrase defines the attitude of today’s Russian citizens toward the war in Ukraine.
What is the most interesting item on your bookshelf?
A Russian-Japanese dictionary, which is about 130 years old and contains no Japanese characters. The Japanese words are written in Cyrillic script.
Have you ever regretted publishing something?
I was lucky enough not to publish it. It was during Soviet times. I was told that if I managed to write a collection of short stories with no humour or irony, it would be published. It would have been my first book and I did write those humourless short stories, but in the end, they were not published. My debut work was published two years later and included three longer “short stories” with a lot of black humour and irony.
Proust had madeleines. Which foods or meals trigger your memory?
Traditional Ukrainian borsch (beetroot soup), my own recipe, without potatoes. The cooking time is from two and a half to three hours. Long enough to contemplate any literary project.
Have you had any notable experiences meeting authors you admire?
Kendzaburo Oe, I met him years ago in Frankfurt during the book fair and we had a short chat. Martin Pollack – Austrian non-fiction writer and historian – cheered me with his company many times. I love his books, and we became friends.
Do you have a favourite bookshop?
I have several. It’s Daunts, Marylebone, London. It’s Toppings in St Andrews. It’s Mr B’s Emporium in Bath. It’s Mollat in Bordeaux, Strand in New York, Ombres Blanches in Toulouse. Modus Vivendi in Palermo and the Marco Polo bookshop in Venice.
How does distraction inform your writing?
In a very direct way, particularly during the last four years when I have struggled to prevent the Russian aggression from driving me to distraction. Main distraction for me is now Russian aggression, the war. I felt forced to write non-fiction about the war and life during the war instead of fiction. But I learnt so much because of it. My preferred light distraction – and I manage to enjoy it even now – are art galleries. I love to study paintings with a plot, to follow small details and to make sense of the images – my own sense – which is often different from what the artist intended.
What are you currently reading or watching?
The Ratline by Philippe Sands. His book East West Street remains one of my favourites.
Who has influenced your writing?
Franz Kafka, Knut Hamsun, Jack London and Andrei Platonov. They have been my favourite writers since I was fourteen or fifteen years old.
Which piece of music have you listened to the most in your life?
Gustav Mahler’s Symphony 9; I wrote my trilogy Geography of a Single Gunshot over seven years, mostly listening to this piece.
Do your ideas form themselves in your head or on the page?
They begin to take shape in my head and gain clarity when I write them down.
What is the worst job you ever had?
Sorting rotten cabbage from semi-rotten ones in Soviet times at a collective farm. We were sent there as students. The local kolkhoz workers probably did not want to do this job.
If you could choose any piece of art to hang above your desk, what would it be?
Csontváry Kosztka, Tivadar – “Pilgrimage to the Cedars of Lebanon”
What was your favourite text studied at school?
Mykola Gogol’s Dead Souls
Which font do you write in?
Times New Roman, Arial, Collibri.
What does a writing day look like for you?
It’s different now than twenty or thirty years ago. Then I would wake up at 5 am or even earlier and write till 11 am before taking a break. These days, I usually start at 9 am after coffee and a light breakfast. If I am in Kyiv, I go to a café where I work for an hour or two, then I change café and work again for the same period. Some days I visit up to four cafés. I do the same when I am visiting other cities. Sometimes I stay at home and work there, but then I drink more coffee and tea and am less concentrated and disciplined.
Which other art forms are necessary to your writing?
Paintings, retro-chansons from Germany (Hans Albers), Italy (Giorgio Gaber), Austria (Georg Kreisler), etc.
Where do you seek refuge?
Forests, for mushroom picking, art museums, the Hydropark – an island on the Dnipro river in Kyiv.
Andrey Kurkov is the author of more than thirty books of prose and essays, including Death and the Penguin (2000), Bickford’s Fuse (2016), The Grey Bees (2020), “Our Daily War”(2024). He lives with his family in Kyiv, Ukraine.
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