“… We remain in the memory of our homeland …”
To say that the poetic work “On Valaam” shocked me is to say nothing. Each line, like a current through naked nerves. How many nameless graves are left there! Thousands of people brought down to the level of animals! We watch horror movies about Auschwitz and Buchenwald, but everything is clear: the executioners, the Nazis were enemies, and here are our people, with whom the whole war went … Of course, we know about the massive repression and red terror, about the numerous camps, but to look deeper, into the very essence, as Alexander Korotko did, not everyone will be decided.
I want to admit that it was not possible to read “On Valaam” in one breath, my breathing was interrupted from time to time, interrupted by horrors, injustice, absurdity, from the savagery known. Although the language of the author is simple and understandable, the text is read slowly with stops for respite. It will not be possible to run through the eyes, only full self-giving. Try to pass on the paper the cry of the chibis: who heard, he will understand. So it is here. “On Valaam” does not require conjecture.
The tension of the creative spirit is preserved, without which it is impossible to imagine a true artist like Alexander Korotko, and feel love for his Motherland. Here it is – our homeland – unrecognizable, all in blood and tears lies before us and crying for mercy, and the author’s heart aches and hurts for her.
Passing through the heart of “On Valaam”, you can literally touch the tragic pages of our history. What strength the front-line invalid should have, having got into a closed boarding house with a special regime! What survived these people, experienced not only human capabilities. The heart-rending details of this poetic work force us to plunge into the depths of the darkness, called the island of Valaam, where the human spirit cannot win.
Everyone who is interested in the political life of society, our history and, of course, literature should read “Valaam”. Escaping from the pen of the writer, this work becomes a kind of force and begins to live its own life.
Dostoevsky wrote that the meaning of creativity, of writing is to find a person in man. Alexander Korotko managed to touch all the depths of the human soul and uncover the truth, so it is impossible not to recognize his civil feat and the gift of the writer.
P.S. I want to believe that time will put everything in its place.