A deep understanding and full representation of Georgian culture from the 1980s to 1990s cannot be achieved without recognizing Karlo Kacharava (1964-1994), who made an exceptional contribution to the development of Georgian literature and art through his poetry, artwork, and theoretical ideas.

Karlo Kacharava's work illustrates a compelling historical and cultural phenomenon. His vibrant and expressive artistic universe is influenced by both Georgian and Western artistic traditions. He introduced innovative elements, new forms of artistic expression, and stylistic devices into Georgian culture. His daring experiments are impressive, and his narrative style and approach are distinctive.

Karlo Kacharava introduced new themes and artistic images into literature. In his lyrical poems, multiple themes are usually presented simultaneously.

In Karlo Kacharava's poetry, his graphic works, and notes, the theme of bread provides an intriguing reflection - the artistic image of bread, which the artist presents not only as a vital element of daily life and an edible item but also as a symbol that acquires a different dimension in his work, serving as a productive subject of cultural reflection. In Kacharava's work, bread - this seemingly simple food — encompasses complex social, religious, and cultural meanings and becomes a symbol for deep philosophical exploration aimed at revealing and understanding universal human categories and the broad traits of his contemporary era. Vija Skangale rightly observed that Karlo Kacharava “not only comprehended the essence of the present, but also created an eternal archive and developed a discourse for preserving the reality of his era” [Skangale 2024, p. 52].

For Karlo Kacharava, bread is a symbol of life, holiness, peace among people, goodwill, friendship, and human relationships. At the same time, it is closely connected to the idea of life and continuation of living, without which the continuation of human physical or creative essence, human lineage, and the future is impossible.

In Karlo Kacharava's poetry and memoirs, bread has two main meanings: bread as a source of human physical life and existence, and bread as a symbol of eternal life and Christian faith - the body of Christ. In his work, as in real life, bread serves as a connection between the human and the divine. The author highlights both principles and draws attention to them.

In Karlo Kacharava's work, alongside the general symbolism of bread, a significant and, one might say, leading place is occupied by bread marked by the cultural-economic and social peculiarities of the era, the image of bread and the realities of post-Soviet Georgian reality related to bread (bread-forage,  the bread lines).

Karlo Kacharava, as a poet of refined taste, creates original and unexpected artistic images in his works (including bread imagery) that recur in many of his poems, and on the other hand, as a theorist of art, analyzes the essence and significance of imagery and shares his views on this issue: “The revelation of the hidden meaning of the images of desire, their understanding in systematized, developing, or changing form. The images of desire can be very diverse. This should apparently [more correctly, definitely] be an emanation of some most important, most significant need, which is also subject to the most complex, incomprehensible idea" [Kacharava 2014, p. 137].

Bread is one of the most important symbols of life. The author devotes great attention to the everyday, domestic understanding of bread, so in his texts, bread sometimes has completely ordinary, everyday content, and many such examples can be cited from his work:

"Tonight I scolded Stalin for the umpteenth time while drinking tea

I was spreading butter on bread - and thinking about Daria and sex."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 55]

"You are an old detective, when they showed you on television,

I sat on the sofa and spread butter on a slice of gray bread.

Cassandra."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 112]

"He ate hastily:

bread, cheese, chocolate, and orange."

[Kacharava 2014, p. 109]

In Karlo Kacharava's poetry of the 1990s, the theme enters, which is new not only for him but for the whole of the Georgian literature of this era - specifically, the "bread line" theme, which is a common characteristic of wartime and economic depression periods, and therefore it is logical that this reality (the bread line) appeared in our country in the 1990s as a result of the severe economic crisis in the country. Standing in bread lines was the daily routine of people in that era, an inescapable feature of life during that period. People stood for hours, even spending nights in bread lines stretched in front of bakeries and stores. They all waited, some looking tragic, some desperate, some exhausted, some angry, some confused. Still, they all waited silently to get their hands on the desired product, possibly the only substantial food for their family.

In Karlo Kacharava's poetry, we encounter artistic passages that reflect this specific marker of Georgian reality in the 1990s, which can be read in two ways: directly and everyday, or figuratively and symbolically.

The ordinary, everyday content in the poems can be said to "lie on the surface," easily understood and perceived. People need bread as physical nourishment. Lack of bread is a sign of material hardship. People wait for bread as bodily nourishment because bread is their main food, which is vitally necessary for them. People realize that the most challenging conditions have been created in the country, but they must survive, and to survive, to preserve life, they must have bread, and that's why they stand endlessly in bread lines.

Karlo Kacharava's poems on the theme of "bread lines" invite reflection on bread as a vital symbol of Christian faith. People wait for bread as spiritual nourishment and a way to connect with Christ. In every Christian culture, including Georgian, bread is foremost a key Christian symbol. It is often associated with the image of Christ. Scholars note that “Bread in Christian symbolism becomes the embodiment of 'the body of Jesus Christ,' acquiring key and absolute value as a mediator of human communication with God” [Yurina... Internet resource 1]. Therefore, standing in bread lines, whether consciously or unconsciously, signifies waiting for and seeking God. People line up for bread to embody and promote Christian goodness and values.

I think the aesthetics of bread, the understanding of bread image-symbols in Karlo Kacharava's work, is also based on principles of double coding. These passages can be interpreted in both everyday domestic and sacred-religious contexts.

From the perspective of uncovering the religious layer of the symbolism behind the bread image, the untitled poem "...when light diminishes" offers very intriguing material. It begins with a metaphorical interpretation of light and dusk (darkness): "when light diminishes, apparently evening comes." Beyond their literal meanings, light and dusk also carry figurative significance: light as a positive principle, representing goodness; evening/dusk as a negative principle, symbolizing evil. In this poem, the theme of "bread lines" also appears with remarkable intensity.

"Outdoor lighting" still doesn't turn on, or won't turn on at all," writes Karlo Kacharava. The failed outdoor lighting was one of the real and sad characteristics of that era, but in external lighting, besides street lighting/lamps, the author might have had another meaning in mind. The country didn't have the resources to cope with severe socio-political problems and was waiting for help (goodness, i.e., light, illumination) from outside (i.e., from friendly countries). The expectation of "external lighting," i.e., hope from foreign countries, Georgian people have had at other times too, in previous centuries. Allegorically, this phrase can be interpreted as follows: external/foreign help is not yet coming, and maybe no one will even help us at all.  It should also be considered that the poem is dated 1992, when "external lighting"/partner countries' assistance was vitally important and particularly relevant for the country.

The Georgian people are in morally and materially difficult conditions, as evidenced by the following lines: "Frightened, unpleasant and poorly dressed girls/run somewhere./With the meaningless gaze of speechless passengers" [Kacharava 2006, p. 102]; "Unable to cope with unexpected events,/Unable to cope with adventures/Unrecognized with lovers, with bad shoes,/With bad coats, with the sadness of the sick" [Kacharava 2006, p. 102]. The author desires to let Egnate Ninoshvili, who has become a kind of accompanying image in his poetry, "speak out... the hidden/speechless proletariat," i.e., to awaken and activate it.

It is not accidental that Egnate Ninoshvili should guide these people:

"...carry them... from the Infectious Diseases Hospital,

from the Oncological Diseases Hospital toward the Republican Hospital -

and back to the Infectious one, if they also pass through

The Blood Transfusion Institute."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 102]

As we can see, the author has marked hospitals as key points along Egnate Ninoshvili's route, which we believe conveys the idea of the nation's physical recovery. Finally, they should join the large crowd of exhausted people waiting in bread lines for hours at the bakery.

"There they will be joined by the large regiment

of those exhausted people waiting for hours at the bakery."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 103]

The bakery can be understood metaphorically as God's house, and the people standing in bread lines as worshippers, believers who have come to pray in a holy place. For this interpretation, the author himself gives us a hint with the phrase: "Behold, true precious pilgrims, behold, the righteous."

In this passage, the double artistic function of bread lines and bakeries, their everyday and religious layers, became particularly evident.

In the Apostolic Teaching called Didache we read how they pray to the Lord to gather his believers in the church as scattered grains of wheat are gathered in bread: “As this broken bread was once scattered on the mountains, and after it had been brought together became one, so may thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth unto thy kingdom; for thine is the glory, and the power, through Jesus Christ, for ever. [Didache, 9,4; Internet resource 2].

The people waiting in line outside the bakery can also be seen as individuals gathered at the Lord's house, who, like grains in bread, unite to save their lives and souls.

The fate of those waiting in bread lines is grim and tragic; they’ve almost become dolls, mechanical toys, marionettes ("doll, toy mechanism, manipulable"). The author's gaze now shifts to the children of those in line. He asks the most important question:

“Children of those standing in bread lines!

Whose portraits decorate your walls?"

[Kacharava 2006, p. 103]

The fate of children, meaning the future generation and, consequently, the country, greatly depends on the answer to this question; the response to this question determines which path the new generation will take, what values and ideals they will adopt. It is logical that the portraits of those whose images hang on the walls of the new generation will also influence their values.

This question is also answered in K. Kacharava's poetry, especially in his untitled poem ("The shadow of Egnate Ninoshvili..."). The gaze of children waiting in bread lines is directed toward the West, which is why they dream of people like Stallone, Van Basten, and Kim Basinger, who symbolize Western life for young people. Their images are displayed on their walls, textbooks, and private diaries.

E. Ingoroqva reads the chronicle of 'Baadur Mainhog'/ and calls out to Andy Warhol, or Jean-Michel Basquiat,/ or calls out to the idols of the children standing in bread lines:/ to Stallone, Van Basten, and Kim Basinger,/ whose pictures adorn the walls of the children standing in bread lines,/ their textbooks, intimate diaries, and dreams/ in a cold and transport-less city. [Kacharava 2006, p. 108]

These two untitled poems—“...when light diminishes” and “... The shadow of Egnate Ninoshvili...” —are connected through the harsh era of the 1990s, the theme of bread lines, and the figure of Egnate Ninoshvili, his shadow, which "fights against the night of those standing in bread lines" and to whom the author assigns a salvific mission.

The theme of bread queues also appears in Karlo Kacharava's poetry in 1993, though here it no longer bears such an urgent social burden and functions as a parallel motif to intimate lyricism.

"I was writing a letter that someone should bring to you, because I haven't trusted the postal service for a long time. Because you don't see dreams in bread queues." [Kacharava 2006, p. 122]

The religious symbolic burden of bread is completely clear in the poem "Hope":

"Bread, bread,

The father of the poor table or captivity, or

of grocery stores and kindergartens,

Father, Our Father!" [Kacharava 2014, p. 53]

The double appeals at the beginning and end of the stanza activate the religious aspect of the text in the reader's perception and evoke associations with Christian prayer, especially the line “Father, Our Father”—a slightly modified but easily recognizable variation of the traditional "Our Father" with the vocative case ending changed. The author introduces contemporary elements (grocery stores and kindergartens) alongside the traditional ones in the reader's perception. It is worth noting that the lyrical hero speaks to Christ in the above-cited stanza. Let's recall how Christ refers to himself in the Gospel of John: "Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst." [John 6:35]; "I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.” [John 6:51].

The image of bread never leaves K. Kacharava, not even in his dreams. It is fascinating how, with a skilled writer's touch, the bread seen in a dream transforms into an artistic metaphor and becomes a powerful symbol in a memoir entry. This unexpected blend of impressions creates a strong emotional effect on the reader. The feeling is heightened by the fact that the author, as he himself notes, probably has seen this dream before, and it holds intriguing artistic and psychological layers. The entry is dated March 23, 1987: “In a dream I saw glasses, which I think I had seen before. Instead of the left lens, a piece of bread hung, while the right frame was empty, and inside the frame was a concentrically smaller frame, somehow inserted. The piece of bread fell out, I picked it up and was surprised: how could I see anything through such an opaque lens" [Kacharava 2014, pp. 32-33]. This dream of Karlo Kacharava, as noted, presents an unexpected blend of unusual impressions. From a religious perspective, bread symbolizes Christ, and we can think that he perceives and views the world through God's grace, through God's eyes.

The image of bread drawn by the author is diverse. Often it is unsuitable for consumption because it is frozen:

"I see the pain of frozen bread,

When you play and it rains outside

We both laugh somewhere in the fog

- We resemble an old and melancholic film."

[Kacharava 2014, p.82]

 

Sometimes bread is inedible because it is wet:

"I, too, cursed and called upon my father

for judgment and non-judgment.

I ate wet bread

and slept in barracks

in bad hotels

on sand under stars.

In the sea, where my nights

and my flowers are thrown

the tunic of the future is being washed..."

[Kacharava 2014, p. 125]

 

"Workers' children carried in the fog

poor songs and wet bread."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 92]

 

"I also cursed my father

for judgment and non-judgment

I ate wet bread

by the sea, in which my flowers,

the appearance of a dwelling preserved only in memory,

and my nights were scattered."

[Kacharava 2014, p. 114]

One of Karlo Kacharava's most distinctive artistic images in poems about the theme of bread is "the pain of bread," which combines human physical and spiritual suffering.

"Again they found me - poverty - sleeping –

as if I dream of an eagle on the moon's pavement

And I, too, see the pain of bread."

[Kacharava 2014, p. 129]

 

"I see the pain of frozen bread,

When you play and it rains outside

We both laugh somewhere in the fog

- We resemble an old and melancholy film."

[Kacharava 2014, p. 82]

In an untitled poem from 1993 ("...my nights are better than your days"), another miserable and degrading aspect of 1990s life related to bread is highlighted. This is the so-called bread-fodder, which the Georgian people had not considered as food for humans until then. However, in the 1990s, there was widespread discussion in Georgia about using fodder intended for animals as food for people.

"With knives yellowed by the evening setting sun,

with which our nervous bread-forage is cut.

The fellowship of poor bread cutters with curses

exhales speechlessness... ...

in the eyes of huge German shepherds,

between their teeth the nervous bread-fodder of the half-hungry

with the smell of weapons,

which is not eaten by the eaters of

what belongs to future generations"

[Kacharava 2006, p. 124-125]

As we can see, the author refers to this type of bread with an expressive artistic image - "nervous bread-forage." Here is expressed sharp protest against social injustice (nervous bread-forage, which smells of weapons, "will not be eaten by those who eat what belongs to future generations"), the author believes that all this will necessarily be followed by protest and this protest will be strict and uncompromising, which is conveyed in the poem through an original metaphor: "the fellowship of poor bread cutters with curses exhales speechlessness."

The image of "nervous bread-forage" is repeated in another poem by Karlo Kacharava written in the same year (1993). This is his famous work "You Were Born Near Poti's Elevator":

"You have been taught a little politeness,

a little good sense,

more lies,

and hypocrisy, hypocrisy, hypocrisy.

With which you should kill, with which you should pray,

with which you should mock,

so that you would be worthy of a morsel at the table of immortal ancestors –

and not the nervous bread-forage of the half-hungry."

[Kacharava 2006, p. 132]

The image of bread in Karlo Kacharava's work is sometimes poeticized and romanticized, because it is dreamlike, bought with golden coins ("In a dream with miniature coins / golden / I was buying bread" [Kacharava 2014, p. 202]; "In a dream / with miniature coins I was buying bread"... [Kacharava 2014, p. 207]); the author also tells us about the confusion of those who went to buy bread ("I couldn't remember the ending at all. Then he told me: / what significance does the confusion of those who went / to buy bread have" [Kacharava 2012, p. 71]), for him bread is sometimes of the moon ("Moon bread, children's sadness and then old age" [Kacharava 2006, p. 51]), sometimes of the sun ("I love poor in the history of sun bread, kind about it" [Kacharava 2012, p. 69]), sometimes of the night ("Perhaps you want to buy this night's bread?" [Kacharava 2006, p. 63]); sometimes it is silver-colored, cut on the moon, which must be chewed for a long time ("Silver-colored bread, cut on the moon, was heavy and / we chewed for a long time" [Kacharava 2012, p. 119]). Sometimes it is ash-colored ("I sat on the sofa and spread butter on ash-colored bread" [Kacharava 2012, p. 35]); sometimes it is simply ordinary ("You wore a black confused suit, simple as bread" [Kacharava 2014, p. 44]); bread can be painted by a mad artist: "For the harmlessness of transcendental gaze, / because the arches of the day are triangular, / while the mad artist paints bread" [Kacharava 2012, p. 100], bread can be a doll ("It was my bread doll, / the color of a poor kitchen" [Kacharava 2012, p. 81]) and so on. But whatever meaning the poet puts into this image-symbol, it is always significant, an unchanging multi-aspectual artistic attribute of his poetry, and the author always provides us with his emotional-expressive evaluation of it.

Michel Foucault's laconic and extremely capacious formula fits well with Karlo Kacharava's work: "the oddity of unusual juxtapositions" [Foucault 2002, p.18]. In his famous work The Order of Things, Michel Foucault wrote: "We are all familiar with the disconcerting effect of the proximity of extremes, or, quite simply, with the sudden vicinity of things that have no relation to each other;" [Foucault 2002, p. 18] and that sometimes "things are ‘laid’, ‘placed’, ‘arranged’ in sites so very different from one another that it is impossible to find a place of residence for them, to define a common locus beneath them all." [Foucault 2002, p. 20]. Karlo Kacharava's work also often amazes us with the completely simple, involuntary association of such objects that are seemingly not related to each other. We often encounter, at first glance, strange, illogical, unusual, unexpected, and sometimes paradoxical encounters of people, objects, and events (including during the artistic understanding of bread themes). Karlo Kacharava's poetry is the space where this effect of unexpectedness is elevated to an aesthetic category and guides the reader's feelings and mind.

In his poetry, bread is sometimes conceived together with angels, peaceful rains, and letters: “Bread. Angel. Accompaniment. / Long peaceful rains / Letters. Again dreams” [Kacharava 2014, p. 205]; sometimes - alongside stars and cemeteries turned into gardens: "Cemetery turned into gardens with bread of stars" [Kacharava 2006, p. 56]; sometimes - with the cemetery of winds, leather hat, and yellowed letters: "The sea resembles a cemetery of winds in fog - / it rains on it - / black leather hat. Letters that are already yellowing, wet bread" [Kacharava 2006, p. 82]; sometimes - with old train dreams, snow-covered trees, a hatless old man, or a misty mountain: "Old train dreams - / when he looks at snow-covered trees from the window / resembles the crying of frozen bread / and a hatless old man on a misty mountain" [Kacharava 2014, p. 139], sometimes - together with sleep, looking out the window, losing keys: "I am initially surprised by everything we call simple. / Sleep, looking out the window, chewing bread, losing keys" [Kacharava 2012, p. 54]. Karlo Kacharava's artistic images are governed by logic conditioned by their internal laws. In these unexpected encounters, within this strange chain of objects and events, the logic of artistic images, unexpected angles of reality, and previously unnoticed connections and relationships are always revealed. This is one of the significant features and markers of Karlo Kacharava's artistic thinking and his worldview. The poet in his texts seems to let objects and events existing in these completely different planes of thought collide with each other. Thus, he creates a kind of "poetic sparks" to, first of all, give new light to his poetry and then to the world.

Bread themes are also frequently found in Karlo's diaries, both as everyday ("We drank tea until late at night, ate bread brought from the dining room and boiled meat" [Kacharava 2014, p. 70]; "Vezirov brought me bread and butter from breakfast. I ate it in bed" [Kacharava 2014, p. 81]), as well as with metaphorical significance, as, for example, is presented in the above-cited diary dated to March 23, 1987.

Bread also has a communicative function, which can unite and connect a person with certain social groups, with family members, and with society. However, in addition to this connecting role, it can also cause disconnection or alienation from people. Karlo Kacharava emotionally reacts to one such situation, which he describes in a diary entry made on April 9, 1987: "In the morning, the instructor Kurik woke me up, called me to breakfast. I decided to keep sleeping, but after a while, the doctor came in and told me, 'Karlo Karlovich, this is not allowed, get dressed and go to the dining room, don't break the daily routine.' I perceived these words about the daily routine as a good sign and immediately hurried to the dining room.

There, my fellow recruits, the Uzbeks, were enjoying bread and butter. The food seemed so little to them that they didn't save bread for me and didn't even turn their ears when I asked for bread. Not one of them could part with the third piece of bread saved for himself. I took bread from an Armenian. I felt insulted and ate it elsewhere, away from them [Kacharava 2014, p. 77]. 

This incident once again convinced Karlo Kacharava that he and his surrounding ethno-cultural world (in this case, the Soviet army, where he was forcibly stationed) stood on different value planes, which manifested at all levels, including the everyday level. Not only were the socio-cultural reality and certain part of the people there unacceptable and incompatible with the values of Karlo, but Karlo's way of life and values were also incomprehensible and unacceptable to them, who in this specific case manifested this unacceptance at the everyday level in refusing to share bread with him. We must agree with researcher Bela Tsipuria, who notes: "As it seems, the continuation of cultural experience with everyday experience, and not the other way round, is a more effective way of disobedience to reality and cultural self-assertion" [Tsipuria 2012: 14].

Thus, bread is one of Karlo Kacharava's most significant and eternal image-symbols, which appears in his work with its universal significance, passes from poem to poem and acquires new burdens and content. Bread in Karlo Kacharava's work is endowed with high spiritual and aesthetic burden.

Through the understanding of the artistic image of bread, the author also reveals one of the basic ideas of his poetry: people must cope with new challenges, manage to mobilize forces, not lose dignity, preserve both physical existence and spiritual strength, despite the difficult socio-political situation created in the country.

The author shows us both everyday and religious aspects of bread's eternal image and symbolically-metaphorically shows us bread as a phenomenon with sacramental nature.

In the artistic-aesthetic fabric of his works, on one hand, bread as a real material product and as a symbol, and on the other hand, people as its consumers, are closely connected and interlinked.

Bread, which has become a defining element and symbol of human life and destiny in a certain sense, and sometimes even a standard measure, gained existential significance in Karlo Kacharava's work. The author also linked the existential fear of new life, characteristic of his era, to bread.

Through bread and its connection to it, Karlo Kacharava reveals and explains the most important problems of the era while also creating highly artistic, original, unexpected, and expressive poetic images of bread.