Lithuanian writers show their work to the world

  • 2002-10-10
  • Lorne Cook
FRANKFURT

Lithuania's most famous writer raises himself and peers over the podium, tightly clutching his speech as the rest of the literary world looks on.

"When I was first approached this summer and asked to give a speech at this Fair, such an important event for us in Lithuania, I agreed without hesitation," Sigitis Geda says.

"A week later, I began to feel very uneasy and was plagued by agonizing doubt," he adds, as glances are exchanged in the audience.

Geda is Lithuania's pre-eminent writer and is praised as a lyricist, dramatist, translator, essayist and critic, but his doubts arise from the burden of trying to sell the Baltic state's literature to the wider world.

He is one of 22 local authors who have come to the Frankfurt Book Fair, where Lithuania is "Guest of Honor," to share his country's writing, culture and history at the biggest event on the publishing world's calendar.

Its motto at the Fair, which runs until October 14: "to be continued" a cry of hope that enough interest will be generated here to attract international publishers.

A world away, down the hall, in an exhibition at the centre of Vilnius's 1.47-million-euro showcase, its organizing committee director, Rasa Drazdauskiene, thinks the land may be the key to Lithuanian writing.

"It's very very soft, mild landscape with lots of greenery, lots of views... something that is cozy, kind of warm, but a little bit foggy... Lyrical!" she says, as if she's hit upon the secret.

"Rain is good for inspiration," says Drazdauskiene of her "land of poets", as those few knowledgeable enough about the subject call Lithuania.

Poetry is one of the major forms, as is short story writing and novellas.

She says they, and not novels, are the best expression of every day Lithuanian language, which tends to be brief and concise.

Back in front of a fidgeting crowd, Geda thinks the secret may lie in the torn past that led to country's independence after a difficult break from the Soviet Union in 1991.

"In times of political, military and social upheaval, the Lithuanians have primarily learnt to make the language of poetry their own and to write in the dynamic, flexible forms of the small genres," he says.

The upheaval since independence meant that the new-found freedom was also extended to the publishing industry, with the six main houses in Soviet times exploding into more than 450 registered publishers today.

But the competition is so tough and sales so low — selling 6,000 copies in two months will make you a best-selling author, a title mostly reserved for foreign works — that most publishers produced less than 10 books last year.

The upheaval has also meant serious debate, notably on how the country should promote its literature in Frankfurt.

Deputy minister for culture, Ina Mamciuluinyte, says strong calls were made for folklore to be the focus of the exhibition and that modern writing only won after strong argument from some leading politicians.

It is all part of a wider debate, she says, that is likely "to be continued..."