Roma, Chandani and Gillian
 I
know it was at least two hours past midnight, when I finished reading
that novel. It was another unputdownable work, I recently purchased. I
have to be at work earlier, and only a few hours left for dawn. Even so
I was too immersed in the novel to sleep. And in the end, something
dawned upon me. In the heavy night I realized I have fallen in love with
three women, for their writing. So here I am.
I have hardly – or never – heard our ‘literary critics’ speak of Roma
Tearne, Chandani Lokuge and Gillian Slovo. I found them one by one
tossed in a shelf, and mostly I had to bolt out to an ATM to carry on a
purchase lest it wouldn’t be available next time I visit the bookshop.
 |
 |
 |
| Knee-deep in mud, he twists the stems
and holds the blue lotuses out to me. My arms grow heavy with
them. I hide my face in their fragrance, even now, even now. The
burning sun, the water, the large green pads. |
Nothing and no one will erase it. And
so he heads towards it, and the small house perched nearby.
Where a young man called Ravi, with his mother’s dark,
unforgettable eyes, sits in stunned silence. Waiting for him to
arrive. |
She began to walk and as she walked
she could almost touch the contempt of the other customers who
kept pace with her. Faces in and out of focus. Fleshy lips
snarling. Yellow teeth bared. High foreheads, distorting faces. |
They are never common as Sidney Sheldon or Agatha Christie. Even
Shyam Selvadurai and Romesh Gunasekara are conveniently available, for
that matter. They are times I had to pay through the nose too, may be
because these books are preciously rare. I never regret it, as even now
I reread chunks whenever I feel down.
Well, let’s get to the business with Roma. The first book I read was
her maiden one too: ‘Mosquito’. When I read it, I felt I should read it
with pauses. Tearne’s writing is dazzling with lucid verbal sketches of
human emotions and vivid landscapes.
But all the same it is a little boring, because you need poetic
patience to journey to the last page. Her second novel ‘Bone China’ is
somewhat different, the narrative is more bent towards family saga type.
It is not as poetic as ‘Mosquito’, and much bulkier, but still more
interesting plot.
And her third, ‘Brixton Beach’ is the most interesting novel, may be
because Tearne is more mature in plot manipulation. Anyway all these
three books are my high ranked favourite compared to novels in general.
Some years back I was surfing through Chandani Lokuge. Those days I did
not quite like English writers with Sri Lankan names. But now I am done
with that silly prejudice and of course I am happy about it. Simply
because Chandani is a lovely writer. Her language is strikingly simple,
but still there is an inexpressible beauty in the word order.
Even to this day I cannot figure out how she works out the language
with such dexterity. I have read two of her novels: ‘If the Moon Smiled’
and ‘Turtle Nest’. Unlike Roma, Chandani is more superb in her maiden
work. It’s basically the plot more than language. And here comes Gillian
Slovo – the mystery woman.
I cannot fathom how she got hold of those fascinating tales of our
good old Ceylon, because I did not find any record of her life here. She
has written quite a number of novels unlike Roma (four) and Chandani
(two). But I think it’s only ‘Black Orchids’ that is based on Ceylon,
and the rest is on either her mother country South Africa or any other
country. Gillian came to Lanka recently for theGalle Literary Festival,
but I couldn’t meet her.
Gillian uses a rich language – sometimes even richer than the other
two. But that’s not high-flown language, I must say. ‘Black Orchids’ is
centred around a family who migrates to London and gradually see
themselves lose their own roots. Sort of commonplace, but still it’s
like a prose poem. Almost every line has a poetic air. That’s about
them. I was too lazy to google them for more information, still I was
curious about their life and rhythm.
I was reading those brief introductions about them again and again.
And you guess what, I was quite happy hovering in the old curiosity
shop. But Roma doesn’t seem to have like that. She had inserted a
detailed account of her life in ‘Brixton’.
That mainly gives out inspiration behind her writing and painting.
Now these ladies live in different corners across the globe: Roma in
England, Chandani in Australia and Gillian in South Africa.
I am so fond of these three ladies because they share one distinctive
feature in writing: poetic prose, as I mentioned elsewhere too. And this
poetry I have not felt in Dan Brown or Agatha Christie.
And these are – at least two of them – Sri Lankan based woman
writers. Just imagine when I have to prefer these Sri Lankan English
writers over the European-born! Why, I started wondering, is that? First
I think because they are women.
My girl-colleagues read much better than my guy-colleagues. Well,
reading sharpens expression any dumb cad would know. But still it’s not
the sole point.
Woman’s soul can get injured easily, but they don’t follow the man’s
way of reaction. Their only way out should be the creative expression.
Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath, Bronte sisters, Mary Ann
Evans, Monica Ruwanpathirana, Harriet Beecher Stowe and many others –
they jog my memory and let me contemplate.
After all women are the softer sex, and whoever said it must be
right!
[email protected] |
