As a general rule, the discovery of a previously unknown manuscript, painting, song and other works attributable to creators is a source of joy and curiosity. It is difficult to associate the discovery of the “occupation diary” of the Ukrainian writer Volodymyr Vakulenko with such a state of mind.
Because this diary is, sadly, a harbinger of the death of its author. In this, the title retained by the editors of this publication, First days of occupation. Last Days of Volodymyr, is highly… and unfortunately appropriate.
Because of his activism, Vakulenko knew that the Russian army’s invasion of Ukraine, starting on February 24, 2022, risked costing him his life. But his desire for commitment, coupled with the even more primary desire to take care of his autistic son Vitaly, encouraged the writer to stay in the country and continue his activities. He nevertheless took care to warn his father that he was writing a diary and that he would bury it at the foot of a cherry tree in his home if he felt his existence threatened.
Fact. The 36-page diary, written on squared sheets and in poor condition after their stay underground, was found in the designated location. Some photos of these pages, published in the book, show very tight, nervous, crossed out, condensed writing. They are tinged with a sense of urgency that reaches straight to our hearts.
Between paragraphs detailing the escapades of the invaders, there is a call for freedom. It is a powerful chronicle of the darkest hours of civilians in survival mode as bombs fall and bullets whiz all around them.
Several recurring themes run through this brochure: the repeated attempts to communicate with the outside world while the Internet is dying, the incessant quest for food, relationships with neighbors, some being ready to denounce you for a piece of bread or a packet of cigarettes, the worries of a father responsible for taking care of his son.
The morphology of the landscapes, urban and rural, ravaged by shells or the passage of armored vehicles, is just as detailed. “The fir trees in the central park seem to have been hacked to the ground, needle by needle, and hundreds of trees have been half severed by the explosions,” writes the author feverishly.
Interventions, in the preface and postface of the work, allow us to put the creation of the journal and its discovery into greater context. There is a very laudable effort here by Vakoulenko’s friends and literary specialists to pay homage to this book-testament with strong overtones of testimony.
We all know stories with poignant content condensed into a few pages. If it’s a man by Primo Levi, 84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff, Journal by Hélène Berr or Unknown at this address by Kressmann Taylor are examples. Even if its author is much less known than its predecessors, First Days of Occupation. Last Days of Volodymyr fits into this category.
