My earliest reading memory
My grandmother’s medical encyclopedias. She was a military surgeon during the second world war and then a doctor for children with tuberculosis. I spent five years of my childhood in her house. I really only looked at the pictures of tumours and wounds, but my curiosity forced me to decode the annotations, which were, as you can imagine, not designed for an emergent reader.
My favourite book growing up
Martin Eden by Jack London. The main character’s dream of becoming a writer – his tremendously strong will – was probably what captivated me most.
The book that changed me as a teenager
The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. I read it when I was about 17 – somebody brought an illegal copy to my brother, Misha, who was an anti-Soviet dissident at that time. This book pushed me to take an interest in the real history of the Soviet Union. A few years later I travelled around the USSR with a tape recorder, trying to get retired Soviet officials to talk about their experiences. My first “adult” novel, The Bickford Fuse, came out of that journey.
The book that changed my mind
The Glass Bead Game by Hermann Hesse. I was 18. I started it five times and, in the end, only succeeded by reading it in the wrong order – starting with the poems, then reading the short prose section, and finally the rest. The book exploded my concept of narrative. I liked the idea of the novel as a puzzle and I tried to work with this for a while, eventually realising that it was not suited to my voice as a writer.
The book that made me want to be a writer
Goat Song by the Russian poet and novelist Konstantin Vaginov. Banned in the USSR, it was given to me by an American professor of literature who, when I was about 19, visited the university in Kyiv where I was studying English and French. You’ll find traces of Goat Song in my novel The Silver Bone.
The book I came back to
The Witch of Konotop by Hryhorii Kvitka-Osnovianenko. It was compulsory reading at school and I found it ridiculous, but, years later, perhaps when I was in my late 20s, I had the feeling I had not done the book justice. Rereading, I found it thought-provoking and rather funny.
The book I reread
Jaroslav Hašek’s The Good Soldier Švejk. I always enjoyed coming back to this novel, which satirises army life, though I have not wanted to read it since Russia’s full-scale attack on Ukraine.
The book I could never read again
Martin Eden by Jack London.
The book I discovered later in life
East West Street by Philippe Sands. It only appeared a few years ago. Had I read it earlier, I might have become a nonfiction writer!
The book I am currently reading
Civil War Newspaper Reports 1917-1919 Kharkiv, by Ukrainian historian Gennadii Izhitsky. My work on the Kyiv Mysteries series has greatly deepened my interest in and understanding of life in Kyiv during the civil war. Now I am branching out into the histories of other Ukrainian cities during that time.
My comfort read
How Late It Was, How Late by James Kelman. His love for humanity shines through the brutality of his subjects.
• The Stolen Heart: The Kyiv Mysteries by Andrey Kurkov, translated by Boris Dralyuk, is published by MacLehose on 27 February. To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
