THE BABA YAGA MASK

When their grandmother disappears in Warsaw, two sisters follow her trail around Eastern Europe in this debut literary novel.

Is it really a good idea for a 91-year-old woman to travel from the United States to Warsaw by herself? Vira Bilyk’s 30-something granddaughter, Larissa, is doubtful, but her baba has always been strong-willed and is determined to make the trip to the International Folkdance exhibition on her own. Vira will be staying with Panya Stefa, an old friend of Larissa’s mother. After the flight, Stefa calls to say that Vira never showed up either at her apartment or the dance exhibition. Trying not to panic, Larissa and her younger sister, Irena, called Ira, jump on a plane for Warsaw. There, they follow—in a kind of anxiety dream journey—what seems to be a breadcrumb trail to Slovakia and Hungary, locations where Vira sought refuge in World War II after having to leave her home in Galicia in western Ukraine. Flashbacks from Vira’s viewpoint set in 1941 and ’42 illustrate her wrenching losses and the wily courage that helped her survive. The ending, where all these paths meet, brings several kinds of reconciliation. In her novel, Spisak lyrically interweaves elements from Ukrainian culture, such as traditional dance, matryoshka nesting dolls, and tales. Each motif illuminates Vira’s character, as with the dolls hidden within one another, speaking to her lifesaving abilities in disguise, deceit, and concealment. Of particular significance is Baba Yaga, a usually fearsome fairy-tale witch who, Ira argues, is “fierce but not always bad.” The witch helps those who are strong and brave like Vira, whose ferocious strength comes to her own rescue.

A complex, poetic tale, strongly linking past and present through folk art’s rich traditions.