Another metaphor I would like to avoid, but it sticks out like a sore thumb.
Oh, if only it were yarrow — Achillea, I thought when I first saw this photo from Snake Island. Then everything would come together in a myth. But it's not yarrow, of course. It looks like Erodium — better known to us as rake, which begins to bloom in May.
But let's leave it at that; we don't need botanical accuracy, except for the fact that it's not yarrow. I had to look up several scientific articles to find out if it grows on Snake Island.
We look up from below, as if we have fallen. Compositionally, the photograph is divided horizontally: debris — flowers — people — sky. The transitions between the horizontal lines are not sharp, resembling layers of geological rock. Everything here is about “up.” The gaze moves from the debris to the flowers, from the flowers to the soldiers, from the soldiers to the sky. It's almost like slowly rising.
We begin with the debris (not in the foreground, but at eye level) of burnt or torn metal, which immediately tells us that something has happened here (we know what, so we can remain silent). Then there is the purple blossom of erodium, a weed, i.e., a wild plant that does not need human intervention. The blossoms on the debris on the dry coastal land take up almost half of the frame. If it were yarrow, it would be almost poetic, almost the embodiment of a legend.
Legends make this island the final resting place of Achilles, from where it is only a stone's throw to the kingdom of Hades (it is not surprising that the gates to this kingdom of shadows could be near our borders). Why did I want yarrow so much here? Achilles treated the wounds of his brothers with yarrow. He did not heal himself with it, because it was impossible to defeat him — until he was defeated.
Zmiinyi has such a rich history that even in this century, facts have accumulated that have become symbols and will eventually become legends. I will not retell the current history of the island from the first days of the full-scale war — today, it is a story that everyone can tell. And that is already a third of the way from true history to a thousand-year-old legend. But the silhouettes of six soldiers on the horizon take us away from the uncertain world and bring us back to reality. And here we cross the line, and the sky begins. It is like the line between legend and fact. And on it stands a real army.
Achilles on Snake Island is another metaphor that we want to avoid, but it sticks out like a piece of debris from the ground that is impossible to avoid. And yes, we could have avoided mentioning Achilles. But it sprouts on its own — a metaphor-weed, a wild legend.
Photo: Vlada and Kostyantin Liberov
Text: Vira Kuryko
