The creative writer in our post-war world

By Yasmine GOONERATNE

In The Practice of Writing, a series of eight articles written especially for readers of MONTAGE, award-winning novelist, poet and critic Yasmine Gooneratne considers aspects of literary composition from a writer's point of view.

Part VIII

Much as we authors enjoy the private world in which we read good literature (and, hopefully, write it!) we are constantly called on to engage with the world outside it. Today's Sri Lanka is a post-war world, and our society is now very different from what it was thirty years ago. As writers committed to living in this country, it is necessary to devise strategies for working creatively within the new structures that the last three decades have established.

In this brief essay, which concludes the series of eight that I have been writing for Montage, I shall describe certain rules I have made for myself in the course of nearly fifty years as a student, teacher, and writer of English here and overseas. I hope they will be useful to my fellow-authors.

Jane Austeon

Rule #1: Clear your mind of cant. My reason for placing Dr Johnson's famous advice at the head of my list is, that a society recovering from the brutalizing effects of a long and bitter war has to give priority to tasks of regeneration and reconciliation. If we creative writers have something to say that will assist those tasks, I suggest that we write it in the plainest prose. Expressing our ideas and feelings in the language of poetry or fiction would be a waste of time.

Our poems and stories, however well-written, sincere, or even passionate they might be, will not have the smallest influence on the politicians who are striving to re-shape the world in which we live. The minds of politicians are focused on power and the consolidation of power, rather than on works of the literary imagination. Let's not complain or wonder about that. It is a natural outcome of the fact that they are appointed to rule, not to read.

Rule #2: Write clearly, write correctly. Historical events have produced the readers of today, and it is important for us as writers to understand in what ways those events have affected our readers. For the information of any one unfamiliar with our educational history, the Official Language Act (generally known as the Sinhala Only Act) that was passed in Parliament in 1956, established Sinhala, the language of Sri Lanka's majority community, which is spoken by over 70% of the country's population, as the sole official language of Sri Lanka, replacing English which had been the language used by the colonial rulers of the island. The Act saved thousands of young folk from oppression, for not only did they gain economically, but they escaped from the limitations to their lives and intellectual progress imposed by a foreign language to which very few had access. On the debit side, however, is the fact that the Act symbolized oppression in the eyes of the island's Tamil minority, seeming to justify its demand for a separate nation state, and resulting in three decades of civil war.

From a cultural point of view, we need to understand that, with the introduction of the Sinhala Only Act, competence in the use of English deteriorated island-wide, severely limiting, over four generations, the ability of our people to understand, enjoy, and use one of the world's great languages. One reason for this is that the Act resulted in the exodus of well-trained and experienced teachers of English - some of them members of families that had kept English standards high for generations past in our schools and universities - who left the island in droves, to take up teaching positions in Australia, Britain, Canada, and other English-speaking countries of the Commonwealth where their skills were appreciated, and where their children could continue to use English. Another reason for it is that the Act was not rescinded by successive governments after 1956, so that certain unfortunate mistakes of 1956 were never corrected, but allowed to continue working to the disadvantage of our students.

The effects, both good and bad, of the Sinhala Only Act on English literary and cultural activity in our country is a subject with which I have engaged elsewhere (see 'The English-educated in Sri Lanka: An Assessment of their Cultural Role', in South Asia Bulletin Vol. XII, No. 1 (1992) pp. 2 - 33). I do not propose to discuss them here. 'What's done cannot be undone'. It makes good sense in these changed circumstances - and it is excellent discipline for writers, too - to keep the language of our fiction lucid and direct, doing our best to make everything we write an example of clear and correct expression.

Rule #3: Read the best, ignore the rest. There is little time these days for private reading or intelligent conversation within the family circle, so it is not easy to observe Rule #3. Maintaining and constantly updating reading-lists of our own can be a great help. 'Reading lists' were once a part of every cultured person's diary or pocket-book, but they have become rare in a society where cultural activity is daily undermined by the hypnotic influence on the general public of poor-quality TV 'drama' serials and the third-rate magazines peddled even by some respectable bookshops.

Does it not say a lot for our society that, in these circumstances, new books continue to appear? There are many good books about. Perhaps our publishers are giving authors a better deal these days than they did a decade or two ago. Most of the publishing houses which appeared in the 1950s, such as K.V.G. de Silva and the Hansa Press, are no more, but they have been replaced by new organizations such as Perera Hussein and Vijitha Yapa which get energetically into promoting and distributing the books they publish (instead of leaving those tasks to the author). They pay authors proper royalties on time (without having to be questioned and reminded). There are also any number of small printing presses to which authors can and do resort when they want to publish privately.

We can see for ourselves that new volumes of fiction, poetry and autobiography in all three languages are launched nearly every week, and duly reviewed in the newspapers. Literary prizes are awarded annually by the state, by private organizations, and by local booksellers, which are intended to encourage the nation's writers. The English Writers' Cooperative, set up over 25 years ago by three dedicated authors (Anne Ranasinghe, Maureen Seneviratne and Rajiva Wijesinha), is still going strong, actively sponsoring seminars, competitions and well-attended public readings, and several book clubs exist which bring readers together to discuss local and international publications.

Rule #4: Stay away from Satire! Every writer has a favourite literary genre. Mine has always been satire, the literary device which the 18th century English poet Alexander Pope regarded as a 'sacred weapon' given to authors for the defence of truth. Writing satire calls not only for a comic talent in the writer, but a wish to use that talent, together with irony, wit and humour, as a means of reforming society. The Western classical poets Horace and Juvenal perfected this kind of 'satiric' writing, which was later favoured by such English Augustans as Dryden, Pope, Swift, Johnson and Jane Austen, writing about their own societies.

The arch-Romantic Byron wielded satire to spectacular effect in his poem Don Juan. As these examples indicate, true satire powered by irony does not, and should not, degenerate into mere insult. A writer's use of the form indicates a concern for moral and social values, and the genre has traditionally attracted authors who believe that their societies are capable of reform.

The kings of the ancient world, knowing themselves to be surrounded by sycophants and flatterers, employed court jesters to tell them the truth about what was happening outside their palaces. Politicians everywhere could certainly learn a great deal from a satirist's witty and constructive commentary - if they would only listen!

However, the 'sacred weapon' of literary satire can sometimes, in unfavourable circumstances, back-fire - as the world saw happen in the case of Salman Rushdie's controversial novel, The Satanic Verses. An academic currently working in one of our universities told me recently that satire and irony no longer 'work' in Sri Lanka: they are liable to be misunderstood. I don't think her statement implies that our people have lost their sense of humour, for it is certainly not true of the Sinhala theatre, where satire is alive and very much relished.

But if it is true of our English readership, that is a very sad thing to have happened in a country which applauded the brilliant satiric writing of Tarzie Vittachi ('Fly-by-Night') and E.M.W. Joseph ('Sooty Banda') in the 1940s and 1950s. Perhaps the fact that both these outstanding writers, together with the gifted cartoonist Aubrey Collette, found it necessary to cease writing satire and even to leave Sri Lanka for good, bears out the truth of the statement made by my friend.

If she is right in her belief that the value of satire is no longer understood and respected in our highly politicized society, satiric writing should probably be regarded - for the present, anyway - as a mine-field in which the creative writer should tread with care.

Rule #5: Beware of Educational Experiments. Newspaper readers are probably aware that Sri Lanka's educational policies and practices are currently under review. This is all to the good, since it is the declared aim of the bureaucrats who spearhead these educational initiatives to help the growing generation to speak (and, one hopes, ultimately to write) English fluently.

Past experience suggests, however, that parents and educationists would do well to be alert when school children are subjected to educational experiment of any kind. We in Sri Lanka have already endured one educational experiment that affected language, the 'change-over' from English to Sinhalese and Tamil in our schools in the 1950s. That experiment was doubtless well-intentioned, but it had unexpected (and ultimately disastrous) effects, for it divided our children into 'streams' based on race and language, and robbed our nation of the ethnic unity it had once enjoyed.

We are now on the brink of another educational experiment. Unremitting publicity over several months had made us aware that a squad of Sri Lankan teachers is currently undergoing a 2-week training course (according to methods developed in India) in teaching the art of speaking English in "the Sri Lankan way".

What that "way" is, precisely, and how effective the course might be, the public does not know. Indeed, it cannot know, since the advance publicity has not explained the first, and the promised Teachers' Guidelines that could have demonstrated the second, have so far failed to appear. My personal reaction to this "English as a Life-Skill" initiative has been a complex one, divided between hope and dread: hope for its success (based on enthusiasm for an island-wide improvement in the use of English), and dread (based on past experience) that it may turn out to be yet another failed experiment.

Until just a few days ago, the absence of adequate information about the "English as a Life Skill" project had led me to think that the whole idea might turn out to be just a bureaucrat's daydream. But no, it is not a dream, it is reality. In both the Daily Mirror and the Daily News of Wednesday 6 October 2010, it has been announced that a Spoken English test will be introduced in the Ordinary Level Examination from 2012. This announcement was made (according to the Daily News report) by no less an authority than Presidential Advisor and Special Presidential Task Force Coordinator on "English as a Life Skill" Sunimal Fernando himself, so we must believe it.

Let me quote Advisor/Coordinator Fernando's remarks:

The elite and the new entrants to it (?) try to keep their English language monopoly to them (sic) by creating an artificial fear to (sic) speak the language. They ridicule at (sic) the pronunciation that differs slightly from the British or American way. They discourage to (sic) speak English if not adhering to the British pronunciation. To change this situation we need to generate a whole attitudinal change in the country. A national level program is needed to encourage our students to speak English confidently in the Sri Lankan way ...An unnecessary fear is generated by emphasizing on (sic) grammar too much, and the natural way to learn language is as a spoken language. Today with the intervention of state (sic) an appropriate method to (sic) teach English has been formulated.

Readers who manage to struggle through to the end of this report must hope that Advisor/Coordinator Fernando's speech (as officially reported in the Daily News) is the work of a journalist which has somehow escaped an editorial eye.

How else can we explain such infelicities as. "keep their monopoly to them"? "An artificial fear to speak the language"? "They ridicule at the pronunciation"? "They discourage to speak English"? and "By emphasizing on grammar"? If this report is an example of the manner in which our nation might soon be speaking English "the Sri Lankan way", perhaps the project requires further consideration.

Let us avoid for the moment any harmful emphasis on grammar, as the Speaking English Our Way project asks us to do, and try to make sense of this speech. Let us inquire (a) Why instruction in grammar should 'generate' fear in any one? (b) Whether a language - any language - can possibly be spoken 'confidently' without a knowledge of its grammar and respect for it? (c) Who the (unidentified) 'elite' are, that stand ready to 'ridicule', 'discourage', and intimidate new students of English? And (d) whether it is not a trifle strange to suggest in 2010, more than sixty years after Independence, that students who regularly hear English spoken on the radio, on television, and in cinemas, should be overawed by the prospect of learning to speak the language correctly?

If a Spoken English test conceived on the principles outlined above is truly to be introduced in the Ordinary Level Examination from 2012, would it not be wise for parents and guardians of candidates preparing to sit the O-Levels in 2012 to begin monitoring children's use of English with the utmost care? Let us begin today. Let us train ourselves, if necessary, to become our children's teachers. It is crucially important that those who can use English correctly should do so, taking every opportunity to teach by example, and resisting the temptation to impose their own political prejudices on the minds of impressionable young people.

While encouraging the positive aspects of the Government's initiative, let us do everything we can to make sure that the coming generations of Sri Lankans speak English correctly, and are not - even with the best intentions - saddled with speech habits that will work to their disadvantage everywhere in the world ... except in the O-Level examination hall in 2012.

Rule #6: Spread the good words! Two words that have recently moved (sidled, rather than sprung) from Western tabloids into the vocabulary of local gossip columnists. are "Glitterati" and "Fashionista". The words describe the kind of person, much satirized in newspapers of an earlier era, whose life's ambition had been to be photographed, expensively and extravagantly dressed, at the Colombo Races. An interesting phenomenon of recent times is the regularity with which glitterati and fashionistas, together with their plumage, are sighted at book club meetings and literary festivals.

As the organization of these events is firmly in the hands of intelligent directors who are themselves dedicated readers, this stir of interest in unexpected quarters can surely do nothing but good, for the new visitors have begun to patronize bookshops in force, subscribe to book clubs, and queue up for festival tickets.

They might even be encouraging their children to spend their pocket-money on books, rather than on Barbie dolls. Let us believe that these are signs of hope for the future.

And if the festivals and book clubs fail to hold the attention of the 'fashonistas' for very much longer, what will it matter if they go elsewhere? Nothing of real value would be lost, beyond a few hotel reservations. The well-known (and well-publicized) charms of our hotels, our beaches, and of 'Dutch colonial' Galle will continue to attract visitors, with or without the added allure of literature.

So there you have them, my personal strategies for the creative writer's survival in today's Sri Lanka. I hope they do not convey an impression that the outlook for writers is hopelessly bleak, since it is not. The literary pages of several newspapers (one of these being Montage in the Sunday Observer) welcome the work of first-time authors, and try, as New Ceylon Writing did in the 1970s, to find reviewers for it who will do more than pen platitudes.

The days when G. J. Padmanabha and Regi Siriwardhana wrote their newspaper reviews of books and plays are over now but, thanks to the dedication of such skilled bi-lingual translators and literary critics as Lakshmi de Silva, Vijita Fernando and Kusuma Karunaratne, we writers who work in English are better-informed now than we ever were about writing that continues to emerge in Sinhala and Tamil. K.S. Sivakumaran's articles continue tirelessly to advance the cause of inter-cultural understanding.

Professor Rajiva Wijesinha is currently taking time off from his parliamentary duties to contribute a series of informed and entertaining essays on "Twentieth Century Classics" to the Island newspaper. The British Council continues to do its sterling work in teaching English. And did you know that we are likely very soon to see Martin Wickremesinghe's Kali Yugaya (the third volume in the trilogy which began with Gam Peraliya) in English translation?

That will certainly be good reason for national celebration; and an event of particular importance for writers in English, who will at last have the pleasure of reading this classic Sinhala work for themselves, in its entirety.

Emeritus Professor Yasmine Gooneratne directs The Guardian Angels, a literary editing service established for the assistance of writers. She may be contacted on Email at [email protected]