|
The World of Arts:
The writer in search of identity
Gwen Herat
Many a number of English writers, most of them professionals,
discovered a common indebtedness and a collective impulse to the
achievement of great scholars who paved the way to English writing no
matter to what nationality he belonged but the fighting spirit of the
writer concerned and thereby established the identity of the writer.
Came the electronic age and the indispensable computer to change and
rewrite the lifestyle of the writer. Herein lies the challenge to him
that his counterpart over centuries were not exposed to.
Viewed dispassionately, these achievements are monumental enough and
it is the purpose that matter as we march towards the new century in the
new millennium. Yet, carved by long and dedicated fervour with simple,
definite and practical writing, he still remains a nonentity in
countries like Sri Lanka except for a few who had ventured out and been
recipients of few international awards.
Of course, we have our own legion of writers and poets who have made
it good abroad but they are few and far between and are forgotten over
the years. Even at this late stage if our country can propagate a
university for the study of English and Sinhala literature, then and
then only will the country produce brilliant writers.
Some may have different school of thought that writers are born and
not ‘made’ quoting William Shakespeare for example but these instances
are far fetched and not in keeping with today’s rat race.
So massive is the literature of the world that the mere task of
grappling with it for a foreigner such as a Sri Lankan could be enormous
apart from the task of presenting it in right proportion. If the
opportunity had been there in the past, we certainly would have risen to
the occasion.
With our successes, we would have ended the primary object. But look
where we are with the rich potential yet unsung to the outside world
except the classic called ‘English Patient’, which went on to grace the
big screen.
Though we were denied the opportunity, few writers dared defy the
convention of time, broke away to put their talent between pages. Yet,
majority of the present generation have to struggle against odds and end
up on a ridiculous billing as writers.
Reading the best of Sri Lanka’s mind and the true secret of its
working, reside on our literature, may be removed from the days of
civilization of other great countries. Yet, literature and writing make
up the better part of each great civilization and we are bound by the
link language of English.
Modestly speaking, the expectations of writers are exceeded when our
work are found favourably received but that again is confined to our
country but do we have the opportunity to explore other lands just as
much as foreign authors dominate our bookshop, bookshelves and
libraries?
We possess a great deal of Sinhala scholars. Why have we failed by
them? We failed to translate their brilliant writing into English and
remove the notion that our country lack exceptionally good writers and
poets. Mahawamsa is the repertory of our civilization and known only by
the Sinhala-reading community.
When Dhammapada was published in English along with translations in
English, it remained a mystery as to why Mahawamsa was ignored.
Subhashithaya is hauntingly beautiful enough for translation (I did try
a few stanza which were published along with translations).
Their meanings are more forceful and fragrant than the English
proverbs. There are also the Sandeshayas and if I were to keep
mentioning, the classics are unlimited. Have we not translated few of
Shakespeare’s plays into Sinhala? i.e. ‘Hamlet’, ‘Merchant of Venice’
and lately, ‘Julius Caesar’ to mention a few.
I enjoyed reading them though all of them missed the essence and
spirit of the plays. And quiet naturally, translating Shakespeare
dialogue is impossible to Sinhala or for that matter, to any other
language.
‘Hamlet’ in particular was my text for English literature and by the
time I finished the exams, I could read the play backwards. It also
resulted me being cast as Ophelia when I was barely fifteen, selected
from an islandwide search among schoolgirls. An experience I am never
going to forget.
Almost all writers are not rigidly faithful to one method. There are
the ones who prove their intellectuality in classical concentration.
Some are obedient to tradition while others move with time. Among many
are the difference between classic and romantic and every writer prefers
one to another according to his own identity.
A mode of putting things in becoming a writer must not be stretched
to cover up convention. I remind myself that among the least pretentious
art of the field is the hope that readers will accept my work for what
it is worth. When I undertook to write ‘Immortal Nureyev’, the challenge
was far too great and perhaps beyond the reach of many writers, not for
want of its text but for facts and figures.
I had this strange feeling that my counterparts in the West,
especially in ballet scene, thought it was not possible mainly because
of obtaining photographs that covered the lifespan of Rudolf Nureyev. I
was aware that when you write a biography one has to be meticulous in
details.
Popular biographer, Peter Watson who also did the biography of
Nureyev had access to every detail required including the KBG files
while I had to depend on the reputed British ballet historian, John
Gregory who photographed and ‘covered’ Nureyev most part of his life.
Other responses were terrible and frustrating so much so that another
biographer would have thrown up her hands and forgotten about the issue.
I was more determined than ever though it took me over two years to
finish the book. I had to travel, meet people, scan the libraries, watch
movies and CDs, but it was worth the trouble.
Writers are basically a sensitive community, some to the extent of
exploding. To me, writing ‘Immortal Nureyev’ was a sentimental
experience, reliving the glorious era and the spectacular performances.
In a sense, Rudolf Nureyev was a philosopher in his own art but caught
up in a web of his own doings which I fascinatingly discovered during my
research.
I was in a position to paint a fair judgement of this genius and to
do so, I had to take on his personality. One reviewer of my book,
flashed a headline ‘The making of a demi-God’. Though I was elated, it
was not my intention. I saw him as my idol. Many reviews hinted that I
was spiritually and artistically in love with him. If that is what the
reviewers summed up, it was alright because I became a part of him to
write his story.
The writer in general must possess a natural fair mind reinforced on
proverbial advantages to capture the imagination of the reader. To me,
my book had proved a happy augury in that I have unburdened myself of
something I owed Rudolf Nureyev.
These are the missions that many writers are exposed to, apart from
writing. The experiences are traumatic while others derive sheer joy and
fulfillment. Once a writer is able to stimulate curiosity and when he is
thrown into focus, the stimulus becomes valuable in compelling the
reader to get involved.
The singular value of present day books on literature, have a good
call by the readers who are a admirable lot. To witness our own
literature, magnificent even in translation and in Sri Lankan
perspective is yet a dream to be realised. May I also interpose a word
on the publisher who have not ventured into excellent time and in many
instances the villain being the typesetter. Clear printed matter,
stylishly focussed, will enhance the writer’s dream in no uncertain
ways.
The heart-rendering part is when a review is splashed across by an
incompetent reviewer where the individuality and the capability of the
writer is mercilessly massacred. And if this be true on any literary
study, it is notably true in English writing. Under these circumstances,
a genius is often mated off with an eccentric.
My dedication to writing is a passion ever since I was able to hold a
pen and not aimed at professional ranking and will continue in this
spirit.
The satisfaction I derive from it goes to Rudolf Nureyev who has been
my constant inspiration and to the Bard of Avon whose works are
eternally fresh on my mind no matter how old I am. As a writer I am
happy to be associated with this community of human endeavour which
springs from a heart full of adoration. |
