Scandal by the Book
While walking along Khreshchatyk recently, I ran into an old friend, Vasyl Herasymiuk, who is generally considered to be the author of the best Ukrainian poetry being written these days, with the possible exception, of course, of my wife. “Let’s go for coffee,” I said. “I’m buying.”
“Vaska,” I said over the my cup of java, “you got an award at the Book of the Year awards, but you weren’t there.”
“I know,” he said, “a second or third prize, but I decided not to go.”
Actually, I almost did not go either, receiving the invitation, addressed to me at a garbled address for the paper (Tymoshenko 12P instead of 2L) but made out in the name of my wife, at 3:00 p.m. The day before the ceremony. I would have done well to take this as an omen and follow Vasyl’s example by staying home.
The main problem was not the sweet young things masquerading as beauties marching back and forth to display the winning books, then for most of the ceremony standing in front of the winner, obscuring him or her from the view of the audience as s/he said a few words of thanks for the certificate awarded. Poor Anatoly Medzyk of our paper had to go through more maneuvers than a circus contortionist to get a decent snapshot. The grand prix to the A-Ba-Ba-Ha-La-Ma-Ha Publishers of children’s literature for The Snow Queen, a local favorite sumptuously and brilliantly illustrated, was welcomed by one and all. And having the opportunity to meet presenter Mariya Burmaka afterwards was a high point for me personally. Still, the whole affair left one with a sensation that incest was being committed as the favored few awarded each other kudos for God knows what. Yevhen Pashkovsky handed out awards from the Writers Union, awards of which the leadership of that august body seemed to be unaware (I was there a couple of days later), and other representatives of journals handed out theirs, again mainly to each other. Moreover, the ballots published in Knyzhnyk Review did not correspond to the prizes awarded, with some categories arbitrarily eliminated and the contestants’ votes assigned to other categories where, of course, they lost. In other words, the rules of the game were changed after the play was over. Where I was brought up such things tend to be frowned upon. With all due respect for Diana Klochko and her material on this piece of — how shall I put it delicately? — ecstatic equine excrement and with all my affection for Ukrainian books and those who publish them in these difficult times, I have to condemn this travesty. Awards should be given only when winners and losers play by the rules. In this case the rules were manipulated, and this means the prizes are worth no more than those who did the manipulating.
