[Quote]
“In the soldiers’ cemetery, there are no monuments, no crosses—only small mounds of earth. These soldiers gave their lives long ago, when Kazimira’s great-grandmother had just been born. None of the graves bears a name; they are all covered in moss and bindweed. Across the road, the soldiers gaze at the people in the ordinary cemetery on the other side, feeling a faint sense of envy in their hearts—those ordinary people will be remembered by name, and as time passes, their families will lie buried beside them, with flowers and candles offered in their honor. For the soldiers, however, there is only one wreath shared among them each year. When autumn arrives, they gather withered plants from their individual graves and turn them into specimens.”

“Loneliness feels like an illness. Like other ailments, it is glaringly visible. On my left stands a small door. Behind the door, sorrow piles up. It usually begins to accumulate in November—when time seems to freeze, to come to a standstill. The accumulation continues, lingering through those monotonous, frigid nights. By April, a considerable amount has built up. But as the pallor of winter fades from the streets and the snow melts completely, that door swings open, gently swaying in the breeze, allowing fresh sensations to pour into my body. They leave a deep imprint, and the shackles of sorrow are replaced by a joyful longing. This feeling is hard to put into words. I still have not found a name for such a trembling emotion.”

[Reader Reviews]
“I’m still reading, but I’m already deeply captivated by the author’s writing. I wish I could keep this reading experience going forever. This is a remarkable debut novel, and I hope to read many more works as wonderful as this from the author in the future. Big hugs!”

“The beauty of the language is truly breathtaking; every word, every sentence is worth savoring. I consider myself a connoisseur of literature, and this novel has left me thoroughly satisfied. I highly recommend it.”

“I am grateful to the author for creating this book and for the themes it raises. It is astonishing that such a young woman reminds us that we must never forget the unimaginable suffering and death inflicted by the Nazis on both adults and children. We must never forget—if we do, tragedies like these may be repeated.”

★ The age of mercy seems never to come; the past has never truly passed—it still whispers, waiting to be heard.
★ A work of memory literature and magical realism that blends historical trauma, the writing of memory, surreal allegory, and a coming-of-age narrative.
★ Shortlisted for the Grand Book Prize! Winner of the Russian Prize—First Prize in the Prose Category! Excerpts from the book have been featured in Forbes Woman magazine! Publication rights have been licensed to Belarus!
★ In Varsalb, a small town whose name is written backward, when a young Belarusian girl begins to converse with nameless spirits, the buried wounds of World War II reemerge in her clear eyes, and a solitary girl becomes the voice of a forgotten world.
★ In a subtle yet deeply moving way, the book alludes to the Nazi Holocaust, allowing “history that has not been laid to rest” to invade the present, giving rise to a haunting, ghostly narrative.
★ When the name of Georgy, the son of the renowned poet Marina Tsvetaeva, is inscribed anew in the novel, we see how literature accomplishes what history itself could not: the solemn burial of the past.
★ With its poetic, surreal narrative, the book confronts the trauma of war and the perils of historical amnesia. The author’s prose is utterly compelling; every word, every sentence is worth savoring.
★ Ideal for readers who love literary fiction, are interested in the history and literature of Eastern Europe, and appreciate poetic storytelling and profound themes.

The story is set in the late 20th century (1985–1994) in Varsalb, a small town in northern Belarus. The name of this fictional place is a mirror image of the real city “Braslav” (Браслав), symbolizing a history that has been concealed and now demands to be reexamined. This is a deeply poetic tale about memory, one that delivers an emotional impact as piercing as the first time one encounters injustice—and as profound and sharp as the sudden insight that comes in the final moments of life, when a person seeks to take stock of their entire existence.

The protagonist is a lonely yet curious girl whom we follow from the age of four to thirteen. She possesses a unique gift: she can see and hear the voices of nameless spirits—those who died in her region during World War II (1941–1944): civilians massacred by the Nazis, soldiers who fell on the battlefield but were never properly buried. They have no graves, no monuments, and their names have long since been erased from collective memory. It may be precisely her solitude that makes her the most sensitive bridge between the world of the living and the dead—a quality that draws these spirits to her. Their deepest longing is to be “heard” and “remembered.” They believe that only when someone learns their stories and calls their names back into the light can they finally find peace.

One of the characters in the book is a historical figure whose name does not appear on the mass grave where he lies buried near Braslav during the Great Patriotic War. He is Georgy Efron, the son of the renowned Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva—a young soldier who died at the age of 19 and was laid to rest in an unmarked grave. Georgy Efron has come to stand as a symbolic figure for all those whose sacrifices have been forgotten. Through the girl’s efforts, the novel becomes a powerful metaphor for restoring individual dignity and historical presence to countless anonymous victims.

The narrative moves deftly between two temporal layers:
The present: The girl’s everyday life as she grows up—her somewhat strained relationship with her family, her experiences at school, and her exploration of language and the world around her.
The past: Through the “voices” of the spirits, the brutal memories of war relentlessly intrude into the present. The girl’s dreams, hallucinations, and heightened perceptions allow us to witness firsthand the atrocities committed under Nazi occupation, the anguish of those who have lost loved ones, and the sacrifices made on the battlefield.

This interweaving is not merely a series of flashbacks; rather, it makes the traumas of the past an integral part of the girl’s lived experience, underscoring the fact that the past never truly vanishes—it continues to whisper, waiting to be heard.

This book is a literary fable about listening, memory, and redemption. Through the eyes of such a young girl, it reminds us that we must never forget the unimaginable suffering and death inflicted by the Nazis on both adults and children. More than a profound reflection on Nazi atrocities and historical trauma, the book serves as a requiem for all the nameless dead, a poignant reminder that only by remembering every single name can we prevent such tragedies from repeating themselves.

[Author] Helena Pobyarzhyna
Graduated from the Faculty of Philology at Belarusian State University and works as a Polish-language translator. Her debut novel, “Varsalb” (working Chinese title: “The Girl Who Hears Silence: The Vigil Keeper of Varsalb”), won first prize in the Prose category of the 2024 Russian Prize and was shortlisted for the Big Book Award. She currently lives in Belarus.

(The Russian Prize was established in 2005 with the aim of preserving and developing the Russian language as a unique phenomenon in world culture, as well as supporting Russian-speaking writers outside the Russian Federation. Over its first 12 years (2005–2017), the Russian Prize was awarded to 97 writers from 28 countries, including Bakyt Kenjeayev, Natalia Gorbanevskaya, Yuz Aleshkovsky, Mariam Petrosyan, Dina Rubina, Sukhbat Aflatuni, Lina Erdan, and others. In the 2024 International Literary Competition of the Russian Prize, 591 submissions were received from authors in 55 countries. Entries had to be unpublished works or works published after July 1, 2018. The total prize fund amounted to 5 million rubles. The winner of first prize received 1 million rubles, while the winners of second and third prizes received 800,000 rubles and 700,000 rubles, respectively. On December 11, 2024, the first prize in the Prose category of the Russian Prize was awarded to Belarusian author Helena Pobyarzhyna for her novel “Varsalb.”)