What does the book give to us readers who are experiencing the war? Fiction is a way to get to know the world, even if it is a fictional reality. It unifies experience, structures pain, losses, expectations. It is not so much about fiction as about the opportunity to say in a commonly understood language what is difficult to say out loud. In this sense, the literary text is a form of collective speech, where the reader’s “I” is not alone, because someone in this book has already experienced something similar. In times when the world is falling, loneliness can be the most dangerous state.
Documentary prose is different. It relies on details that fiction cannot handle: smells, halftones, the specifics of the routes the characters travel, atypical reactions, random thoughts. What is important here is not how the reader will react to the work, but how truthfully the artist will be able to record his own, extraordinary. Documentary prose proves that every experience is unique. And that is exactly why it is needed – so that we do not forget that there is always another person nearby with his own pain and rhythm of life.
There are also texts that rely on both of these supports — fiction and fact. They confuse: it seems that he has read a living story – until suddenly it becomes a metaphor. You think it’s a memoir, and then you come across a fictional letter or dialogue. This is how journalism works. In the conditions of war, this genre becomes unexpectedly honest.
In any genre, a book is not just an escape from silence or fear. It is a way of preserving oneself in a world where everything is impermanent except words.
Reading gathers a person from the wreckage
A survey conducted by the “Mirror of the Week” publication shows that Ukrainians survive the war by keeping their word. More than 23% of respondents choose fantasy and science fiction as a way to escape from reality. And it’s not an escape in a bad way. It is the desire to have a space where the rules are clear, where evil can be defeated and the future can be imagined. At a time when reality is crumbling, the fictional world becomes not only salvation, but also therapy.
Infographic: IA “FACT”
Classics, with their timeless stories that “give perspective,” became a source of solace for 17%. This shows the need to hold on to something when everything is shaky. The classics are a quiet confidence that humanity has already passed through the dark ages and spoke about them in a language that still resonates. It is not read to escape, but to see the war as part of a larger narrative.
It is also understandable that 14% of readers chose documentaries about historical events. Presumably because understanding the past helps to read the present. In this case, Ukrainians seek not only emotional support, but also an intellectual framework for what is happening to us.
Contemporary fiction (11%) is another important marker: the reader seeks to find words that will help to understand and name what hurts right now. At the same time, only 3% prefer books about the war — and this indicates either fatigue or unwillingness to return to the topic, which does not leave everyday reality. In such conditions, the book should be a shelter, not another battlefield.
All these numbers indicate the main thing: a book during the war is not a product, but a process. It either heals, or causes resistance, or simply lies nearby – like a promise that it will be read in a peaceful life.
21% of respondents answered that they do not read at all — they choose other methods of recovery. That’s an honest answer. There is no single correct trajectory in disaster experience. Someone needs a word, and someone needs silence. But this silence is also a form of awareness of the need to return to oneself.
This poll is not just about tastes. It is about our condition. And about the path that leads to the moment when the word will become its own again.
To advise means to be close
The second poll, conducted by “Dzerkal Tzhysny”, is a different topic, but again about trust. This time it’s about trusting the book. About how we choose what to read in a time when there is too much uncertainty around us, and every decision is another step in the dark. As the answers show, even in this seemingly simple choice there are echoes of war.
Infographic: IA “FACT”
Most often, Ukrainians are guided by “reviews of other readers or advice of acquaintances” — this was the answer of 33% of respondents. But this is not just trust in literary taste. This is the desire for a shared experience. When a book is not an individual gesture, but a continuation of a conversation. When choosing a book is a way to stay in your circle. People read what others read so they don’t feel alone. This is one of the main functions of literature: to create a horizon of common meanings. And the word “acquaintances” today often means not just friends, but those with whom we hid in shelters together, who dropped links to free electronic libraries in the first weeks of the invasion, etc.
31% choose a book spontaneously — “according to what interests them in the bookstore.” This option is particularly telling. We are tired of calculating. We live in a mode of response, not strategic planning. And the book is also about the moment. About the mood that changes every hour. About the cover that says something today. It is a choice of trusting chance—almost like a breath, almost like a gesture.
20% focus on the author or favorite publishing house. These are those who still believe in the coordinate system. That names hold quality. That even in chaos there are those who do not give up. It’s about memory. About the experience that you already supported once – and maybe you will do it again.
Only 9% trust literary prizes. This is not just an indicator. This is a signal of a crisis of institutional trust. Awards no longer guarantee — neither significance nor sincerity. The reader is not looking for a canon, but a like-minded person. Not awarded, but existentially close. And another 7% are those who choose something else. Maybe by the smell of the page. By font. According to the first phrase. Or maybe by intuition. Their choice is a resistance to monotony. This is a feeling that needs no explanation.
This survey is not only about criteria. It is about searching. About what we want to find in a book: confidence, a familiar voice, a sip of another reality. And about the fact that despite fatigue, the Ukrainian reader does not stop looking. Because there is also life in the search.
The library is not a place, but a duration
Another poll by the “Mirror of the Week” edition is not so much about books as about our idea of the future and the place of memory in it. More than half of the respondents (51%) answered: libraries are needed, but their format should change, adapt to the new era. This is a vote for flexibility. For the combination of tradition and technology. So that the library does not become a museum, but also does not lose its authentic meaning, becoming just a server. This is the desire to have a place where not only the word is preserved, but also where the community lives.
Infographic: IA “FACT”
44% said: “Yes, there is no substitute for books.” This isn’t about denying digital technology, it’s more about the page you can turn. About time, which goes differently among bookshelves. About the reading experience that no screen can reproduce. About the fact that a book is not only content, but also presence.
4% believe that all books should and can be in a smartphone — and that is enough. This is the voice of people who live as mobile as possible. They have the entire library in their pocket, the entire archive in the cloud. And this is not frivolity, but the choice of a way of survival in a world where speed is often more important than depth.
1% chose “other”. And perhaps there is something particularly interesting in this position. After all, it can be about those libraries that exist at the crossroads of experience: libraries in the head, libraries in gestures, libraries of oral memory. Maybe it’s about bomb shelters that have become reading rooms, or about volunteer shelves in centers for displaced people.
Ultimately, this survey is about a great common need: to have a point of reference. Format may vary. But the very fact that we are talking about libraries is already a sign that the word is still important. And as long as it exists, we have a chance to remain human, even in a world that changes faster than you can read a chapter.
