At the Frankfurt Book Fair, a striking installation by Ukrainian artist Valentyna Veremko confronts visitors with Russia’s centuries-long efforts to suppress Ukrainian language, literature and cultural identity.
At the 78th Frankfurt Book Fair, an unusual installation at the stand of Ukrainian publishing house Ranok offers a sobering contrast to the colourful displays of new releases surrounding it. Titled Born/Burn Alive, the work by Ukrainian artist Valentyna Veremko features a fragile tower of charred books, their ash-covered pages preserved beneath a glass case. These are not artistic replicas but books salvaged from a devastating Russian attack on Ranok’s automated logistics centre in Kharkiv on August 1, 2026.
The strike and subsequent fire destroyed approximately eight million books, including more than 620,000 school textbooks. The surviving volumes, now exhibited in Frankfurt from October 7 to 11, serve as tangible evidence of the destruction inflicted on Ukraine’s publishing industry and cultural infrastructure.
Through this installation, Veremko connects Russia’s ongoing war against Ukrainian culture with four centuries of efforts to suppress the Ukrainian language and its literary heritage.
Four centuries of destruction
A red timeline running vertically along the glass case marks 12 dates spanning 400 years, from 1626 to 2026. Each represents a significant episode in the persecution of Ukrainian books, education or cultural institutions.
The chronology begins with restrictions imposed on Ukrainian religious books in the seventeenth century and continues through successive imperial prohibitions, including Peter I’s 1720 decree restricting Ukrainian-language publishing, the Valuev Circular of 1863 and the Ems Ukaz of 1876, which further curtailed the publication and importation of Ukrainian books.
The timeline also recalls the destruction of the Zaporozhian Sich in 1775, including its printing house and library, and the executions and persecution of Ukrainian writers during the 1930s, known as the Executed Renaissance.
One Book Tower and 400 Years of History
According to the artist’s concept, as noted by the publishing house, the charred books are arranged into a vertical tower and enclosed in a glass display case. A vertical scale with 12 dates is drawn in red on the glass. Exactly 400 years lie between the first and last dates. This scale connects the modern war crime with the centuries-long chronology of Ukraine’s linguicide and cultural genocide:
More recent dates document Russia’s war against Ukraine. Since 2014, Ukrainian books have been removed from libraries in occupied territories, while the full-scale invasion launched in 2022 has brought widespread destruction to libraries and book collections. In May 2024, a Russian missile strike on the Faktor-Druk printing house in Kharkiv destroyed approximately 50,000 books. The final date, 2026, represents the continuing attacks on publishing companies, printing facilities, warehouses and libraries, alongside the removal of Ukrainian books from occupied territories.
Together, these events reveal a recurring pattern: attempts to undermine Ukrainian national identity by targeting the institutions that preserve and transmit its language and culture.
When ‘born’ becomes ‘burned’
The installation’s title captures this struggle through a simple alteration of a single letter. By crossing out the letter “o” in Born and replacing it with a “u,” Veremko transforms the phrase Born Alive into Burn Alive.
The wordplay reflects the fate of Ukrainian books and the culture they represent: created to educate, inspire and connect generations, they instead become targets of deliberate destruction. Yet even their charred remains can testify to the violence inflicted upon them.
The idea for the installation emerged in 2024, following a Russian strike on a Kharkiv printing house. Veremko developed the concept further for the Frankfurt Book Fair, where the surviving books could tell their story to an international audience.
“These books were meant to reach readers: schoolchildren, students, everyone who opens a page to learn something new. Instead, they passed through fire,” said Viktor Kruhlov, CEO of Ranok.
He noted that the installation brings four centuries of history into a single glass case, demonstrating how the Ukrainian language has repeatedly faced bans and restrictions while surviving through the determination of generations of writers, publishers and readers.
Kruhlov thanked Veremko for giving the damaged books a platform at one of the world’s most prominent literary events, where their story could reach readers far beyond Ukraine.
Will 2026 be the final date?
Perhaps the installation’s most striking feature is what it leaves unsaid. Above the final date, two additional red lines remain deliberately blank. They suggest that the chronology of destruction is unfinished and that its future entries have yet to be determined.
The question posed to visitors is both simple and urgent: will 2026 mark the final date in this history, or will the destruction continue?
For Ukraine’s publishers, the answer depends on more than preserving the books that survive. It requires protecting the country’s publishing infrastructure, safeguarding its cultural heritage and holding Russia accountable for the destruction it has caused.
Despite repeated attempts to silence Ukrainian literature, the work of publishing and reading continues. At Frankfurt, the charred pages of Born/Burn Alive stand as a reminder that books can survive not only as objects but also as witnesses to a nation’s struggle to preserve its identity.
Alongside the installation, the National Stand of Ukraine at the 78th Frankfurt Book Fair presents titles from 44 Ukrainian publishers and hosts discussions, book presentations and meetings with international publishers and literary agents. Together, these activities affirm that Ukrainian literature remains alive, reaching new readers even as its creators and publishers confront the consequences of war.
1626 – The Synod of the Moscow Church orders the removal of books in the old Ukrainian print tradition from Ukrainian churches;
1627 – By decree of Tsar Mikhail and Patriarch Filaret, the print run of K. Stavrovetskyi’s “Teaching Gospel” is burned;
1720 – Peter I’s decree prohibits the printing of new books in the Ukrainian language;
1763 – Catherine I closes Ukrainian schools;
1775 – The destruction of the Zaporozhian Sich, along with its printing house and library;
1863 – The Valuev Circular prohibits the printing of educational and religious literature in Ukrainian;
1876 – The Ems Ukaz prohibits the printing and import of Ukrainian books;
1937 – The Executed Renaissance — the physical destruction of authors along with their texts;
2014 – The removal of Ukrainian books from libraries in the occupied territories;
2022 – The destruction of libraries and book collections during the full-scale invasion;
2024 – A missile strike on the “Faktor-Druk” printing house in Kharkiv destroys 50,000 books;
2026 – The current phase of the war: the removal of Ukrainian books in the occupied territories and the targeted destruction of Ukrainian libraries, printing houses, publishing companies, and warehouses.
Nadia Gereliouk
