The nexus between place and people
Introductory speech at the book
launch by Prof Rajiva Wijesinha, MP, at the British Council on January
17, 2012, 'Lakmahal, Colombo, Sri Lanka: 75 years of social change and
political flux'
I am most grateful to the British Council and its Director and his
staff for hosting this event, to coincide with the planned expansion of
its plant, in fulfillment I hope of increasing and increasingly
productive activity in Sri Lanka. I am thankful too to Rex Baker, who
was an extraordinarily inspiring person for whom to work.
Let me remember too today my many colleagues at the Council in those
youthful days, John Keleher and Clive Taylor and Ranmali Pathirana in
particular from our very eclectic unit, and Jean Bartlett and Savanthi
Gurusinghe, who are not mentioned in this book, but who were the solid
foundation of efficiency on which we all built.
But this book, and therefore what I say today, is not so much about
people, but about place. I remember years ago reading Forster's account
of Mrs Wilcox and her devotion to Howard's End, and thinking that he
could not possibly endorse her view that people were much more important
than places. Now, older and wiser, I realize that people are also a
function of place, and indeed of time, and one needs to appreciate all
those dimensions in order to understand how people and societies
interact.
Social developments
If the book I am publishing today has an inspiration, it was Orhan
Pamuk's ‘Istanbul’, which I thought brought that marvelous city alive in
its less familiar dimensions, through an autobiographical account of
growing up there. I am aware that the comparison is perhaps
presumptuous. Istanbul I is an epic in itself, Colombo not even a simple
lyric, and the society Pamuk explores is vibrantly diverse, whereas I
deal with sleepy backwaters. In that respect I also pay homage to
another master of the nexus between place and people, V S Naipaul, who
opens ‘The Enigma of Arrival’ with a chapter called ‘Jack's Garden’ that
encapsulates social developments in a society that seems static, which
you suddenly realize has experienced fundamental changes.
Colombo, I should note, moved swiftly from the self-indulgent
passivity of the 60s, through the stirring social changes of the
following decade, to violence and terror in the 80s. In this book I have
gone back even further, to the world of my grandparents and then their
children, who contributed in their very different ways to the new
dispensations that were developing. I will take the liberty here of
drawing attention to the chapter called ‘Blue and Green’ in the first
part, which was written five years ago but which I find even more
significant now in re-reading it, for its suggestion as to how place can
influence people in strange ways. That should not take away from the
personality and the achievement of my uncle Lakshman, the hero of this
book if indeed it has one. In the same way, my analysis in another book
of Richard de Zoysa, placing him in social context, should not take away
from his personality and achievement either. Reading through my account
of the 80s, both what I experienced elsewhere and here at the Council, I
realize what a seminal role Richard played, in illustrating the changes
the city and the country underwent.
This book ends in 1992, when I began to move to the totally different
world outside Colombo.
That seemed a natural progression from the furniture project the
British Department of Overseas Development Assistance had begun, to show
its commitment to the Indo-Lankan Accord of 1987.
I thought it strange that John Keleher had wanted me to take charge
of it, but perhaps he understood me better than I understood myself, and
realized that I needed to know more about what was going on outside the
charmed circle of the capital. That taught me the enormous amount of
work that was needed to ensure social equity, in terms of skills
development as well as infrastructure.
Cultural programmes
I do not regret then the movement away from the social life of
Colombo which had been part and parcel of the Cultural Affairs of the
Council. But coming into the Council again to talk about this evening, I
remembered again the friends with whom I had worked for whom English was
in effect a first language, the wonderful cultural programmes we
conjured up with few resources, the old troopers whom the Council toured
to packed halls in Colombo and increasingly bemused schoolchildren even
in Kandy.
I remember David Woolger, who had three stints supporting government
English programmes, and in the end understood what was needed more than
his Sri Lankan colleagues and British experts who insisted on assistance
at primary level when what we needed was greater skills of
conceptualization and practical usage.
I remember Scott Richards and the superb productions he inspired, but
also the scholarship boys who challenged conventions, got away with it
in their productions in this hallowed hall, and were then killed for
their pains during the JVP troubles of the 80s. And I remember Rudi
Corens producing Pinter's political plays that were stunningly relevant
in the early 90s when Richard de Zoysa was killed, but also the
‘Libation Bearers’, which remains the best use ever I think of this
wonderful garden that I trust will survive the latest building programme.
I have tried to convey something of these experiences and many
others. But the characters that contributed so much I have not, I must
confess, really captured here.
That is a shortcoming, and I can only plead in mitigation that trying
to encompass that too would have been too much, for a book that covers
over half a century in just 70,000 words. In the second part, which will
bring the story of my house and its inhabitants up to date, I would hope
to do better. But even in this brief record I trust that time and place
and the people they encompass come across, to provide, as my favourite
novelist of the 20th century Paul Scott might have put it, some sort of
understanding of the truth. And as the world moves on, and time, with an
intensity that makes the sleepy world before Duplication Road seem
almost a dream, I venture to suggest that, even if attention need not be
paid, memories should not fade without trace.
The book is published by International Book House, and may be ordered
from [email protected] or
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