Complicit without hope of forgiveness – the poignant diary of a Russian refugee

The ongoing aggression by Russia against Ukraine inflicts immense suffering on the Ukrainian nation, but it also weighs heavily on enlightened Russians who feel a sense of complicity. Exiled writer Natalya Klyucharjova presents a searing record of her personal struggles and the moral burden she carries.

Klyucharjova's work takes the form of fragmented notations, akin to flashlights illuminating a disoriented existence. She navigates the challenging terrain of writing as a victim while simultaneously belonging to the aggressor nation. The narrative grapples with fundamental questions: Is she a Russian or a Russian-language writer? While her native tongue remains Russian, her homeland under Putin's regime is no longer a place she can call home.

A particularly harrowing aspect of her experience involves encounters with Ukrainian refugees. Despite sharing a common language, a chasm separates her from them, born from the vastly different experiences of violence under Russian aggression. Her attempts to explain her opposition to the war and her own status as a refugee are met with an insurmountable wall of distrust and pain. Klyucharjova's diary is a testament to the profound personal cost of this conflict, extending even to those who stand against it within the aggressor nation.