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Where soulful voices thrive
Lost and Recovered Light by Vladimir Korkunov
Lost and Recovered Light by Vladimir Korkunov
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About the author
In this short preface, I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who made this book possible (and, of course, to readers) and to tell you how it came about.
I have been working with deafblind people since 2019. Both my parents are people with limited health opportunities, or disabilities (as we say), and it is completely natural and comfortable for me to work in an environment of conventional ill-health and to help.
When I first encountered deafblind people, I realized that for many of us they are invisible. What does not happen to us does not exist. Then I launched simultaneously several projects, which eventually resulted in this book.
The first one was a literary competition for deafblind writers. I wanted to understand how and what they write about (as it turned out: they write about a variety of themes). Then I started working on an anthology of texts about deafblindness, “I-Silence,” which eventually included 131 authors/translators from 20 countries: from USA to Japan. Then came a portal for deafblind people writing in Russian, “The Seeing Heart” (slovo.so-edinenie.org), a book of interviews with deafblind people, “I Say” (https://eksmo.ru/book/ya-govoryu-besedy-so-slepoglukhimi-lyudmi-ITD1427634/), and, finally, these monologues. This is the third version of the book: after the one published in Russia in Russian and the other in Poland in Polish (I am writing these lines while the monologues are being translated into German and Spanish).
I have been working on it since the summer of 2020. First of all, I wanted to draw attention to the “invisible ones” who live right next to us; to destroy the conventional boundary between “us” and “them”. That's why I addressed existential situations, asking these “invisible” people to tell me about what they a) saw last in life; b) heard last in life and c) what deafblindness gave them instead of the loss of hearing and eyesight.
I followed different paths to the final texts, written in the genre of docupoetry. In some cases, a telephone conversation was enough if my hero or heroine could hear me (thanks to hearing aids); more often it was mail or messenger correspondence; several times I was sent texts written on Braille sheets when the person did not own any technology; once I received an audio response — my deafblind friend went to a woman isolated from the world, passed on my questions to her and recorded her words in audio.
The answers were varied — some were quite laconic (sometimes I sent questions over and over again to piece the story together), while some were rather lengthy — once I received an eight-page (!) letter. My task was to turn the disparate material into a poetic text. I did not invent the plot — there was no fiction in these texts. I acted as a director, a co-author, creating poetic works. It was important for me to achieve the maximum aesthetic and empathic effect, so that the reader would think about the fates of my heroines and heroes. And I realized that deaf-blindness is something that can happen to anyone. And our task is to at least be more attentive to those around us. Not to pass by. To try to feel the other.
We are all misunderstood and unloved.
But what is it like for those who spend most of their lives in darkness and silence and are often deprived of the most basic human communication — the treasure that we can give to each other?
The Indian edition appeared thanks to wonderful people: Maria Deykute, who translated the monologues into English in early 2023; Yuri Serebryansky, who connected me with my Indian colleagues; Sonnet Mondal, who responded to the manuscript; Daria Soldo, who inspires me to do all the important things (it seems, not only to me).
And to all of you who will open this book — because without each of you there would be no point in publishing it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Vladimir Korkunov
In this short preface, I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who made this book possible (and, of course, to readers) and to tell you how it came about.
I have been working with deafblind people since 2019. Both my parents are people with limited health opportunities, or disabilities (as we say), and it is completely natural and comfortable for me to work in an environment of conventional ill-health and to help.
When I first encountered deafblind people, I realized that for many of us they are invisible. What does not happen to us does not exist. Then I launched simultaneously several projects, which eventually resulted in this book.
The first one was a literary competition for deafblind writers. I wanted to understand how and what they write about (as it turned out: they write about a variety of themes). Then I started working on an anthology of texts about deafblindness, “I-Silence,” which eventually included 131 authors/translators from 20 countries: from USA to Japan. Then came a portal for deafblind people writing in Russian, “The Seeing Heart” (slovo.so-edinenie.org), a book of interviews with deafblind people, “I Say” (https://eksmo.ru/book/ya-govoryu-besedy-so-slepoglukhimi-lyudmi-ITD1427634/), and, finally, these monologues. This is the third version of the book: after the one published in Russia in Russian and the other in Poland in Polish (I am writing these lines while the monologues are being translated into German and Spanish).
I have been working on it since the summer of 2020. First of all, I wanted to draw attention to the “invisible ones” who live right next to us; to destroy the conventional boundary between “us” and “them”. That's why I addressed existential situations, asking these “invisible” people to tell me about what they a) saw last in life; b) heard last in life and c) what deafblindness gave them instead of the loss of hearing and eyesight.
I followed different paths to the final texts, written in the genre of docupoetry. In some cases, a telephone conversation was enough if my hero or heroine could hear me (thanks to hearing aids); more often it was mail or messenger correspondence; several times I was sent texts written on Braille sheets when the person did not own any technology; once I received an audio response — my deafblind friend went to a woman isolated from the world, passed on my questions to her and recorded her words in audio.
The answers were varied — some were quite laconic (sometimes I sent questions over and over again to piece the story together), while some were rather lengthy — once I received an eight-page (!) letter. My task was to turn the disparate material into a poetic text. I did not invent the plot — there was no fiction in these texts. I acted as a director, a co-author, creating poetic works. It was important for me to achieve the maximum aesthetic and empathic effect, so that the reader would think about the fates of my heroines and heroes. And I realized that deaf-blindness is something that can happen to anyone. And our task is to at least be more attentive to those around us. Not to pass by. To try to feel the other.
We are all misunderstood and unloved.
But what is it like for those who spend most of their lives in darkness and silence and are often deprived of the most basic human communication — the treasure that we can give to each other?
The Indian edition appeared thanks to wonderful people: Maria Deykute, who translated the monologues into English in early 2023; Yuri Serebryansky, who connected me with my Indian colleagues; Sonnet Mondal, who responded to the manuscript; Daria Soldo, who inspires me to do all the important things (it seems, not only to me).
And to all of you who will open this book — because without each of you there would be no point in publishing it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Vladimir Korkunov
