The City That Answers

A Letter by Maya Dimerli

When people ask what community means to Odesa as a City of Literature, I do not think first of institutions or events. I think of the ability to respond.

One person writes a poem. Another translates it into a language the author does not know. A child illustrates a poem written thousands of kilometres away. A musician hears a rhythm in those lines and turns them into jazz. People who have never met begin to feel responsible for one another.

Odesa has always been shaped by many languages, histories and cultural routes. Its literary community has never been uniform. Its strength lies in preserving differences while continuing the conversation. During the war, this has become even more important. Air-raid alerts interrupt meetings, writers are scattered across countries, books wait for translation or funding, and plans change suddenly. Yet literary life does not disappear. It becomes a network of support.

I love bringing talented and interesting people together. I value the chance to help someone realise their potential, find a reader, translator, publisher, stage or partner. I can do this only within the limits of my ability to recognise talent, my strength and the opportunities life offers me.

For this reason, I see Odesa’s place in the UNESCO Cities of Literature Network as an extraordinary gift. It allows one meeting to become a collaboration, one letter an invitation, one poem a conversation between cities. I cannot respond to every opportunity offered by other Cities of Literature, but I intend to engage more actively and use these possibilities more fully for Odesa’s writers, translators and cultural initiatives.

Belonging to this community also requires me to keep growing. I meet people with immense experience, encounter strong projects and discover new ways of working. This adds stress to an already difficult daily life during wartime. Still, I am deeply grateful for the chance, however slowly, to become better than I was yesterday.

Through Poetry in the Cities of Literature and New Odyssey, I see community built through specific acts: children reading one another’s poems, translators carrying voices across languages, artists creating together and international partners opening paths to festivals, residencies and publication.

For me, community begins when someone asks: ‘What can I do so that another voice does not disappear?’ For a creative person, few things are more painful than not being heard. To feel that their talent has been realised, people need response and recognition. First, someone has to notice them.

That is why introducing Cities of Literature to deserving authors is one of the most beautiful responsibilities of a literary programme coordinator. Such exchanges help writers meet readers, translators and future partners, while cities come to know one another through the people who live and create within them.

Odesa lives with uncertainty. We cannot always promise scale. But we can promise an answer: to a letter, a poem, a gesture of support, another person’s story.

Perhaps a true literary community is made of such answers.