Satire and humour codifying the collective memory of the nation

By Ranga CHANDRARATHNE

Asgar Hussein is a leading young Sri Lankan writer in English. Noted for his in-depth research into the subject matter he deals with, Asgar's writings represent multi-ethnic Sri Lankan society at large. His latest collection of short stories entitled 'The Mirror of Paradise', offers critical insights into the absurdities of life in multi-ethnic and multi-lingual Sri Lanka.

Humour is today a dominant genre in Sri Lankan English fiction. Although readers greatly enjoy humour, very few writers have succeeded in this field. However, Asgar Hussein's collection of satirical short stories - The Mirror of Paradise - has won much praise since it was released a couple of weeks ago. In this interview with Montage, the author expresses his views on various aspects of his work and on Sri Lankan English fiction in general.

Q: Considering your long writing career, first as a journalist and then as a poet, how did you take to writing humorous short stories that explore serious themes in a satirical light? Have you been influenced by any particular author or style of writing?

A: I have long felt an urge to satirize human nature, to depict the absurdities of life. Living in a country like ours, you can see so much comic potential, so many possibilities. Our society is such that one can effectively depict follies and vices using humour and irony. There is so much compelling drama here.

All my stories are based in a distinctively local setting. Through them, I have been able to explore some relevant themes in our lives. Things are, of course, seen with a comic eye, but it is under the force of laughter that we can hold a mirror before ourselves and see the truth.

Wit and humour are among the best tools to provoke thought, to bring a fresh perspective to things. They can be effective forms of social commentary. However, even if one is less sensitive to the underlying meanings and nuances, he can enjoy such stories at the purely humorous level.

Generally, it is not easy to write original humour, and that is why you find so few humourists around. You need to have a sense of the ridiculous, and controlling the action, building up the tension and having an instinct for timing are all essential.

As for influences, yes, I can name a few of the more inspiring ones - Maupassant, Chekhov, Saki, Wodehouse, Jerome K Jerome, Tom Sharpe, Narayan, Roald Dahl and Carl Muller. They have all shaped my perceptions of humour.

Q: Your stories stand out not only for their wit and social commentary from an authentic Sri Lankan perspective, but also for a unique diction. What are your views on the language of fiction in general and of short story writing in particular?

A: Generally, I prefer to use a conversational tone. Language in fiction should be clear, elegant and simple. It must have fluidity so that the reader is carried with the flow of the narrative until the very end. To me, diction - which means the writer's choice of words - is very important. Different words evoke different associations and responses in the reader, so finding the right words to express exactly what we want is important. They must be used in a way that reflects the characters and situations in the story. It is this diction and the way sentences are structured that determines a writer's style, and gives him a distinctive voice.

In my stories, I have varied the diction to reflect the Sri Lankan experience. I think it has worked in describing characters, places and events vividly and in adding local colour. An ear for idiom and the natural rhythms of speech has proved useful. I haven't hesitated to use everything from typically Sri Lankan colloquial expressions to formal speech, to reflect the personality of the characters.

Q: One of the fascinating aspects of your work is the sheer diversity of themes and content derived from different segments of the population. This, in a unique way, mirrors the ' Paradise ' we live in. The stories 'Trouble down Araliya Lane ' and 'Ratnapala's Scarecrow', for example, depict characters from extreme ends of the spectrum. How do you consider our multi-ethnic and multi-lingual society as a pool of material for the creative writer to draw on, instead of confining oneself to one's own surroundings?

A: There is so much vitality, so much variety and drama in this country for a writer to draw on. There are so many sources of stories. Life here is an endless pageant. Sadly, our middle-class complacency, our narrow outlook, has insulated us from the realities beyond our own lives.

As writers, we need to explore the workings of society in a fresh and original way. We need to understand the other ethnic groups in a proper perspective and with compassion. We need to be aware of the different strata of society, their customs and manners, their actions and gestures, their outlook of things.

This country is so diverse that you wonder if our literature can truly capture the Sri Lankan experience. There is so much to cover - the middle-class suburbs, the villages, the corporate offices, the shanty settlements, the underworld, the academic circles, the refugee camps …

However, I think we can go quite far if we look around us with an acutely observant eye, and with empathy. Then we might be able to get into the skin and soul of characters who are so different from ourselves, and create fiction that will not only depict reality and broaden our perspectives on life, but also have universal appeal, a freshness and relevance even after many years have passed.

Q: Apart from the humour, your stories represent people from different walks of life and you analyse characters through situations. How important do you think characterization, though within a limited space, is to a short story?

A: Characterization is very important in a short story, perhaps the most important thing. It is true that a short story, by its very nature, is limited in space. However, a lot can be revealed with a few telling details. For this, of course, the writer needs a penetrating insight into human psychology. Character can be revealed in many ways. The seemingly trivial detail can betray one's entire attitude to life.

This is why good writers have always been keen observers of the world around them. They can paint convincing characters by simply emphasizing a few details - dusty pieces of furniture and things scattered all over, a particular hairstyle, a careless remark or a fleeting facial expression, such things can all reveal much more than what is apparent at the surface. A writer has to steal from life, and so he has to observe everything carefully - the types of clothes people wear, the beverages they drink, the pictures that hang on their walls, the gestures and phrases they use….

However, despite including all such details, there are times when the characterization falls flat. It is only when the writer feels warmth and compassion for his characters that they spring to life. In the hands of clever writers such as Maupassant and Narayan, characters are revealed and radically transformed in just a few pages.

You noted that I have analyzed my characters through their response to the situations that confront them. Yes, I think the best way to reveal characters is to show how they act and react as the events of the story unfold. To me, conflict is important in revealing character.

It is essential for the dramatic impact that gives the story life and makes it memorable. You can see conflicts of various kinds in my stories - In 'A Tale of Two Artists', the conflict is between the figurative painter and the abstract expressionist, who despise each other's work. In 'Har' Par' Six Fellow' the conflict is between the young man and his girlfriend's sister, who regards him as someone from a lower class.

In ' Trouble Down Araliya Lane ', there are two conflicts at work - one between the man and the noisy boys who play cricket down his lane, and the other between him and his wife. Likewise, in the story 'Wada-Kaha Sudiya', there is conflict between the two women who are in love with the same man. In ' Stanley 's Story' the conflict is between a paranoid employee and his boss and in 'Ratnapala's Scarecrow' it is between the villagers led by an aspiring politician and an alienated youth.

Q: Another important aspect of your work, which differs from contemporary Sri Lankan fiction in English, is that you have done substantial research on your subjects. How important do you think research is for a creative writer?

A: It is quite important. A good story rarely comes to life spontaneously and effortlessly, though the core idea may come in a flash. A story has to be fleshed out, given blood and form, and this can only be done by paying painstaking attention to detail. To me this often involves a lot of research. This helps to describe things more vividly, more graphically, and to make the story convincing. It also leads to insights that will enrich your work. For my new book, I did research on everything from abstract art to ayurvedic medicine.

I think that a writer must be born with an intellectual curiosity; his mind must keep soaking in new facts and information that will give his fiction range and depth.

Broad personal experience is also very important. However, what matters most is the creative impulse. This is very well illustrated in the work of Stephen Crane. He had never been to war, but in his novel 'The Red Badge of Courage' he recreated the civil war battles, the sensations and the chaos, very realistically using his astonishing imaginative powers.

Q: One of the fundamental aspects of literature is that it should reflect the contemporary milieu and men and women and their aspirations. Given the recent Sri Lankan short stories in English, what is your view of these as chronicles of our times and the people at large? Are most of the short stories limited in scope?

A: Sadly, a lot of the short stories in English suffer from some fault or the other. If they are perceptive about human nature, they are not written well, and vice versa. Much of this stems from an inability, or unwillingness, to put absolute passion into our work. I don't think some even bother to rewrite their stories more than two or three times. We can't be contented with such efforts. Let's not forget that Hemingway rewrote the last page of his novel, A Farewell to Arms, 39 times before he was satisfied. Another great writer, Vladimir Nabokov claimed his pencils outlasted their erasers. It has been said that what is written without effort is generally read without pleasure.

Another problem, of course, is our unwillingness to enlarge the scope of our stories, to go beyond the trodden path. Many of the stories have a sameness about them, a sameness in content and style. Often, they are drab and lifeless. Also, we have some self-appointed arbiters of literary taste, who ignore original work and promote pretentious literature as good fiction.

To create interesting stories, I think we have to be more perceptive about other people, about their underlying motivations and desires, their irrational impulses and crippled aspirations, about the social forces at work in our daily lives.

Some of our writers in English have, of course, created fine short stories. Among them, I must mention Punyakante Wijenaike and Suvimalee Karunaratne. However, we have far to go before we use the short story as a powerful form of social commentary, as the Sinhala writers have done.

Q: 'A Tale of Two Artists' is an interesting story which highlights the fact that appreciating art (in this case, painting), according to you, a very subjective although it is not the standard assumption. Although the story is extremely funny, you seem to draw a thin line between 'abstract' and 'absurd' art. Please comment on this and how you conceived the idea for the story.

A: Aesthetics is an area that offers fertile ground for the creative writer. I got the idea for this story after hearing a colleague criticize abstract art as "bullshit". I don't agree with this completely, for I have seen some abstract painting that was quite inspiring, but I felt it could be the focus for exploring the subjective nature of art. The two artists in the story - the figurative painter and the abstract expressionist - represent two different approaches to art, and I use their criticism of each other's work to drive the point home.

Q: 'Wada-Kaha Sudiya' is a story based on a true incident. However, you recreate it in such a manner as to satirize the beliefs of the people. Can you elaborate on the main issues you have explored in this story?

A: I found this event intriguing from the moment I read about it in a book. In 1955, many villagers consumed a concoction made from the rhizome of the wada-kaha plant. They believed it would enhance their beauty, but instead they fell ill. This event seemed to suggest an interesting story. There was also the ironic aspect, of how the pursuit of beauty ends in ugliness.

The story was ideal to evoke village life in the fifties, and reveal how easily absurd beliefs could take root and lead to trouble. I blended many aspects of local folklore into the story, and this gives it a peculiar quaintness.

Q: Are you working on another collection of short stories? If so, do you intend to change the genre?

A: I haven't made up my mind yet. I have material in my notebooks for many more humorous short stories, but I'm wondering if I should begin on a novel I had planned for a long time. It was something I wanted to do when I left journalism seven years ago. I still find a novel quite daunting. I will need the stamina to write compellingly and sustain the momentum across three hundred pages or so. Anyway, to answer your question, it's more likely that my next book will also be collection of satirical stories, followed by the novel, and then another volume of poetry.