Will
globalisation gobble up what's unique and common?
By
Ruhanie Perera
"To speak of the Commonwealth writer is to speak of the Canadian
writer, the Indian writer, the British writer, the Australian writer,
the Maldivian writer, even the writer from Swaziland - They all
write in English, an English they have made their own over the years
and this is the wealth we talk about. As for the commonalities,
they are few and far between," says Dr. Sanjukta Dasgupta,
one of the judges at the Commonwealth Writers' Prize 2003.
So when we
celebrate our 'common wealth' at a gathering such as that which
took place last Monday evening at the British Council where the
regional winners of the Commonwealth Writers' Prize were announced
and toasted with wine, battered prawns and heated debate, what then
do we really honour?
To talk of
the Commonwealth writer is to open up a Pandora's box of sorts -
it's a rather controversial idea and as Boyd Tonkin, who was also
one of the judges, put it, "one that has been argued in the
past and will continue to be argued in the future." The panel
discussion that became the significant part of the event was on,
"The role of the Commonwealth writer in an era of globalisation,"
a focus that was deemed to be packed with words that were "intellectual
landmines" save the rather harmless 'of' and 'in'.
What took place
was not merely a discussion of the wealth of ideas, and it certainly
did more than celebrate a common identity or should I say the diversity
of identities. Rather the ideas put forward by the panellists Dr.
Sanjukta Dasgupta, Boyd Tonkin, Dr. Neloufer de Mel, Senior Lecturer,
English Department, University of Colombo and Dr. Rajiva Wijesinha,
Professor of Languages, Sabaragamuwa University, questioned the
identity of the Commonwealth writer and his role, and more importantly
explored the issues and dangers of globalisation within the literary
context.
The most important
concern being that just as much as the writer may capture the spirit
of a community, he may also 'sell' a community to a target audience,
which is the danger of globalisation. The conclusion of the discussion
left more questions than answers; however, the idea that gave the
most comfort was that through an exercise such as the Commonwealth
Writers’ Prize there is a search for unity, sought through
a creatively expressed common medium - the English Language - that,
being our common wealth.
Established
in 1987, the Commonwealth Writer's Prize is sponsored by the Commonwealth
Foundation, administered by Booktrust, London and supported by Cumberland
Lodge. The prize, set up with the intention to "encourage and
reward the upsurge of new Commonwealth fiction and ensure that works
of merit reach a wider audience outside their country of origin,"
is awarded annually for new works of fiction, written by citizens
of the Commonwealth.
The entries,
once submitted, are then sent in consignments to four regional panels
of judges: Africa, the Caribbean and Canada, Eurasia and Southeast
Asia and the South Pacific. At this point the entries compete at
regional level for 'Best Book' and 'Best First Book' categories.
Each of these eight regional winners receives an award of 1000 pounds
and their books are short listed for the overall Commonwealth Prize
for best book (10,000 pounds) and best first book (3000 pounds).
This year saw
92 entries from Eurasia - the region includes Bangladesh, Cyprus,
Maldives, Malta, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Britain. The regional panel
comprised Dr. S.W. Perera, Associate Professor, Department of English,
University of Peradeniya who is the current Chairperson of the Commonwealth
Writers’ Prize for Eurasia, Dr. Sanjukta Dasgupta, Associate
Professor, Department of English, Calcutta University and Boyd Tonkin,
Literary Editor, The Independent.
For both Dasgupta
and Tonkin sitting in on a panel of judges was an easy transition
from their daily tasks. For Tonkin, "the critical judgement
of contemporary literature" is part of his job as a literary
editor and the act of judging merely formalizes a process that he
is used to. The sentiment is the same for Dasgupta who says, "Although
I have not formally judged at an event like this before, as a teacher
for over two decades, I've been judging every day."
Discussing
the process of judging they say it is one that blends subjectivity
and objectivity. One can never eliminate personal taste in your
adjudication, the judges affirm. However, every choice made has
to be argued through and this is where a general principle that
works as a literary critical standard is developed ensuring an objective
stance.
Just like in
the world of clothes, food and show business, there are trends in
literature. Says Tonkin: "As much as there is diversity of
subject, the more you read the more you find out that there are
fashions in literature." The trend identified in this particular
evaluation being that of historical fiction - or as the Professor
of English, Dasgupta would have it "Historiographic metafiction"
- that being works of fiction set in the recent or distant past.
The regional winners this year were both writers from the United
Kingdom: Winning the prize for Best Book was Michael Frayn's Spies
while Sarah Hall's debut effort Haweswater bagged the prize for
the Best First Book.
Dr. Walter Perera
closed his announcement of the prizes with a comment that seems
to encompass the essence of their decision: "It is said that
the purpose of literature is to richly reveal the commonplace. “These
writers have done that and more - they have also richly revealed
the Commonwealth."
Best
Book Prize - Eurasia Region
Michael Frayn Spies
"If the past is a foreign country, then so is the lost world
of childhood. In Spies, Michael Frayn takes us on an engrossing
but disturbing journey through these dubious lands. The resulting
novel combines humour and pathos, mystery and memory, with a consummate
skill, which makes this comparatively small book, grow and spread
in the imagination of the reader.
Frayn's narrator,
now an elderly translator living abroad, looks back on his Second
World War childhood in a quiet suburban area on the fringes of London.
It seems that except for one bombsite and a few absent fathers,
the global conflict of the early 1940s has left this tranquil corner
unscathed...
Against the
background of a lovingly-evoked summer in suburbia, we see that
Stephen's bizarre fantasies will lead him to the discovery of another
sort of secret. For the hidden shame and longing that lurk behind
the privet hedges belongs to an adult domain of passion, one that
Stephen can observe but not understand. Through the "distorted"
lens of childhood, we witness a comedy of errors that gradually
slides into a tragedy of terrors...
This war novel
with a difference also turns out to be a disguised tale of migration
and displacement, which reaches out beyond these English lawns and
lanes to the fury and frenzy of Hitler's Europe. Yet Frayn never
loses his sense of the absurd, nor his impeccable lightness of touch,
in a novel whose economy is matched by its elegance. The older Stephen,
explaining his hapless and fearful younger self, learns that time
may offer some perspective, but never really heals. On one level,
he still inhabits that foreign country of the past. Frayn's triumph
is to make us all his fellow citizens."
Best
First Book Prize - Eurasia Region
Sarah Hall Haweswater
"Haweswater tells an old story but makes it new. It takes local
incident and gives it universal resonance. It invests a small slice
of the actual past with the grandeur and the immensity of the timeless
legend. Sarah Hall's first novel takes its cue from a real place,
and a real event: the building of a giant dam in the English Lake
District during the 1930s in order to provide water to the thirsty
people and industries of the city of Manchester...
From these
bare bones of fact, Hall fashions a lyrical, passionate and tragic
account of the conflict between traditional and rural life and the
irresistible flood of modernisation and development. Her plot pivots
on the troubled love affair between Jack Ligget, the dynamic and
idealistic manager of the dam project, and Jane Lightbourn, hill
farmer's daughter faced with the imminent extinction of her community's
life and landscape...
Richly embedded
in the customs, seasonal cycles and the harshly beautiful countryside
of the Lake District, the novel upholds a story of development and
resistance which has been repeated around the world over the subsequent
decades...
With its echoes of Hardy and Lawrence, her novel finds its place
in a deeply English canon of the bittersweet elegies for a doomed
rural order. Yet it renovates this tradition by virtue of the grace
of its language and the intensity of its vision. Haweswater irrigates
history with the waters of myth."
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