|
05/23/2005
A new feature of the Artists Network site:
Reviews, tips and opinions from Araby Carlier.
|
Araby Carlier is a member of the see you in the
streets generation that has brought us the
anti-globalization and anti-war movements. As a young
urban warrior she defended abortion clinics, stood
with the people in the streets of Cincinnati during
the rebellion after the police murdered Timothy
Thomas, she led Philly Freedom Summer against the
execution of Mumia Abu-Jamal, and has spoken at
countless demonstrations, conferences, radio shows,
and workshops across the country.
Most recently she co-produced for the Artists Network
of Refuse & Resist!, "Unconventional Heroes"-- an
evening of performance honoring courageous resisters
presented in the thick of the protest against the RNC
in NYC.
Araby became obsessed with novels after tasting the
liberation in Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga
and Steinbeck's classic Grapes of Wrath. Armed with
the certainty that anyone will LOVE a great book,
Araby is applying her creativity and determination to
write about novels in a fresh way because she is
confident that another world is possible and many
books that already exist may light the way.
Araby's own blog is at:
liveswemightlive.blogspot.com
|
| |
|
Archived entries
|
PEN Conference: Making New Maps
by Araby Carlier Revolution #004, May 29, 2005,
posted at revcom.us
I jubilantly attended "PEN World Voices: The New York Festival
of International Literature," in New York City, April 16-22. I
was on the edge of my seat to hear the voices of Fadhil
al-Azzawi, Azar Nafisi, Salman Rushdie, and Ngugi wa
Thiong'o.
At the same time, I felt so honored to be introduced to
writers whose names I did not recognize, authors whose home
countries I have never read about outside of newspapers. All
week, libraries, schools, museums, and bars were packed for
discussions, panels, and interviews with dozens of writers from
around the world. In this commentary, I drop a lot of names and
titles to turn you on to literature and authors you may not have
heard of. This is an invitation to investigate.
*****
Three books in high school snapped my eyes open to the rest of
the world: The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck,
The Stranger by Albert Camus, and The God of
Small Things by Arundhati Roy. The reality in these novels
pushed me beyond my borders. In the past year, I have taken to
consulting maps almost daily. I seek out the countries and cities
where my books are taking me. Three or four books usually occupy
my thoughts all at once. And as I check out the distance between
St. Petersburg and Puerto Rico, I wonder if Dostoevsky ever read
The Arabian Nights , and I know his contemporary
Tolstoy did.
Across the country, history departments are dwindling, and
history courses are increasingly not a mandatory part of the
curriculum at many liberal arts colleges. A student's knowledge
of the past is increasingly found in works of fiction. Where
would students be without novels from around the world? V.S.
Naipul and Staceyann Chin taught me of the vast South Asian and
Chinese Diaspora throughout Africa and the Caribbean. Julia
Alvarez guided me through the Dominican Republic. The
senselessness of World War I is nightmarishly clear in my mind
because of Sebastien Japrisot and Erich Maria Remarque.
In a piece on Colombian author Gabriel García
Márquez, Salman Rushdie said that there is "something that
literature needs to recognize all the time: Reality is not
realistic. This is something we're all beginning to recognize.
Have you noticed how weird things are lately?"1 Technology has brought people closer than
ever but, at the same time, the imperial stabs the U.S. has
inflicted on the rest of the world have driven us further apart.
The view of the planet and its people from within the U.S.—as
taught to us—is not realistic.
I told a friend that Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace
was so fascinating because I didn't know anything about
pre-revolutionary Russia. My friend replied that when he begins a
work of fiction and it mentions an event he doesn't know, he
usually puts down the novel and grabs a history text. I'm all
about the history texts, but putting down the novel I don't
recommend.
Grabbing a history book to emphasize a novel is a fantastic
idea. Remember though, that while a novel won't necessarily
present a linear timeline of events, a work of fiction will
infuse history with the vibrant humanity it is often stripped
of.
We always hear how desensitized we are to the violence and
brutality surrounding and sometimes even infiltrating our own
lives. Falling in love with the characters so affectionately
created for us by the writers I have mentioned and more is one
antidote for curing us.
On Writing and Catastrophe
"Writing and Catastrophe" was a panel of writers at the PEN
Festival who cover real-life natural and man-made disasters. The
event included Svetlana Alexievich (Ukraine), who has written
several books on the Chernobyl disaster, the most recent being
the upcoming Voices from Chernobyl ; Francois Bizot
(France) who recently published his memoir, The
Gate,detailing his time as a captive of the Khmer Rouge in
Cambodia; Carolin Emcke (Germany), a reporter at the German
newspaper Der Spiegel ; Philip Gourevitch (USA),
author of We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be
Killed With Our Families: Stories from Rwanda ; Ryszard
Kapuscinski (Poland), whose four decades of reporting brought him
close to Che Guevara, Salvador Allende, and Patrice Lumumba;
Elena Poniatowska (Mexico via France) whose publications include
Massacre in Mexico and Nothing, Nobody: The
Voices of the Earthquake.
The rapid pace at which natural disasters and horrific
massacres take place combined with the brief flash of media
allotted these stories, push the voices of victims into the
background. Catastrophic events often become "retrospective
stories" and "anniversaries," said Philip Gourevitch. The story
fades from our view, but the avalanche of violence being
perpetrated on the people does not end.
Carolin Emcke covers human rights violations and war crimes in
Lebanon, Colombia, Nicaragua, Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and
Iraq. In her presentation, she described how victims of violence
lose their language and ability to completely describe the trauma
they have experienced. One's loss of language is a result of
losing their trust in the world, of being part of a community,
which is required for a people to share language and
communication.
Gourevitch asked the audience to think about the words used to
describe genocide: "unimaginable, unspeakable, and unthinkable."
These are "the words by which the press gives you permission to
forget about and ignore things." Part of the writer's challenge
in documenting catastrophe is to collect the pieces of personal
narratives from the people struggling to regain their language.
The reporter assembles the individuals' stories as well as
reaches between the narratives to discover what people are unable
to describe.
The writers were asked if the subjects they wrote about made
it more difficult for them to enjoy the beauty in the world. In
response, Elena Poniatowska, the author of Massacre in
Mexico , beamed and delightedly exclaimed that she had
never considered a question like that because before she could,
the people of Mexico were out and running in the streets again
and she had to join them. Poniatowska never gets very far in
contemplating her personal life because "suddenly the Mexicans
arrive, they take over, and things happen, like the earthquakes,
or revolutions, or killings, and then you can't be in your house
writing about how you feel or you can't stay there. You have to
go out and see what's happening and speak." Missing the action of
the masses would dampen Poniatowska's spirits more than she would
ever allow their oppression to sink her determination.
As she smiled, a spark in Poniatowska's eye reflected her
confidence in the capability of the masses. Her lifetime of work
following the lead of the people in the streets is her
evidence.
This reminded me of a section from Bob Avakian's "The
Revolutionary Potential of the Masses and the Responsibility of
the Vanguard" (in Revolutionary Worker #1270):
"I hate the way the masses of people suffer, but I don't feel
sorry for them. They have the potential to remake the world, and
we have to struggle like hell with them to get them to see that
and to get them to rise to that. We shouldn't aim for anything
less. Why should we think they are capable of anything less?"
Avakian and Poniatowska share a respect for the great leaps the
people take in changing the direction of politics at a given
moment.
The victims of violence demand that the writer "confirm that,
`no, what you are enduring is not right, it's wrong,'" said
Emcke, and it brings the people back into the global community
they had been isolated from. Writing creates "a we that is sort
of a normative we, a moral we, a we that is bigger than the
realities of the war zone."
Emcke pointed out, as she writes from the war zone, the people
there are not naãve enough to believe that her words will
alert the global community to mobilize and bring an end to their
suffering. The truth alone will not restore humanity.
Translation
Throughout the PEN Festival I was constantly amazed by the
writers I heard, and I felt fortunate to have access to them. At
the same time I felt cheated that in all my years of reading I
had not come across many of their works. Upon closer
investigation I found out why. Of all the works published in the
U.S. each year, not just works of fiction but nonfiction,
textbooks, instruction manuals—about 5% are translated from
another language into English for American consumption.
I heard this statistic and thought, Damn , what
are we missing?
Writer Khaled Hosseini was born in Afghanistan and as a young
adult his family moved from Kabul to Paris, and finally to
California. The success of his first book, The Kite
Runner,is attributed to curiosity, word- of-mouth, and the
support of local book clubs. These factors combined with
Hosseini's tremendous talent as a writer and the immense beauty
of his novel have carried The Kite Runner into over
50 languages and 1.4 million copies printed in the U.S.
I wonder who would be reading The Kite Runner if
Hosseini's family had remained in Kabul and he had written the
book in Farsi or Pashtun. Major publishing houses are not
translating and publishing the latest works by young Afghani
novelists. Or Iraqi novelists, or Filipino novelists, or Chilean
novelists, or Serbian novelists.
A theme that was revisited over and over at the Festival was
the truth carried in works of fiction, and often the imagination
applicable to interpreting nonfiction for a global audience.
"Facts can be abused, facts can be distorted, facts can be
misunderstood...both fiction and non-fiction will be judged by
whether they're truthful," said Gourevitch.
The American Literary Translators Association reports only 13
books have been translated from Arabic since 2001. When I saw the
number 13 a cold stone landed in my stomach next to the frozen
boulder I choked down while watching the U.S. military rain
thousands upon thousands of tons of bombs over Iraq in the last
decade and a half.
There is truth coming from writers in Iraq, from writers all
over the world. Living in the U.S., we have to fight to discover
the narratives and dreams of people writing from other parts of
the planet so that their experiences are not simply
"unimaginable, unspeakable, and unthinkable" because, said
Gourevitch, "What are writers here to do except to imagine,
speak, and think?"
NOTES
1. Rushdie, Salman. "Inverted Realism." PEN America, A Journal for Writers and Readers, 6 Metamorphoses . Ed. M. Mark. New York: PEN America Center, 2005. pp. 44-45.
This article is posted in English and Spanish on Revolution Online
http://revcom.us
Write: Box 3486, Merchandise Mart, Chicago, IL 60654
Phone: 773-227-4066 Fax: 773-227-4497
|