Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Arundhati Roy at Town Hall (March 29, 2010)

Arundhati Roy, small in stature, stood tall, elegant, defiant in a red sari on Monday night before a sold out crowd at Town Hall in Seattle.  She is author of the New York Times best selling and Booker Prize winning The God of Small Things. And a prolific nonfiction writer and outspoken activist and critic of social and political issues in India. She read an essay from her new collection, Field Notes on Democracy, published by Haymarket Books, a project of the Center for Economic Research and Social Change, as well as from a recent essay she published in Outlook called "Walking with the Comrades." http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?264738.

In "Democracy's Failing Light" she talked of the failings and shortsightedness of governments bent on spreading democracy, blind to the other kind of evil democracy perpetuates. She writes, "what happens now that democracy and the free market have fused into a single predatory organism with a thin, constricted imagination that revolves almost entirely around the idea of maximizing profits."

In reading her recent article from Outlook, she spoke at length about her experience going into the forest of Chhattisgarh in West Bengal to meet the people that the corporations and government officials in India are calling "terrorists."

An incendiary categorization that Roy cuts down to size.  She explains succinctly by telling this story:

"I arrived at the Ma Danteshwari mandir well in time for my appointment (first day, first show). I had my camera, my small coconut and a powdery red tika on my forehead. I wondered if someone was watching me and having a laugh. Within minutes a young boy approached me. He had a cap and a backpack schoolbag. Chipped red nail-polish on his fingernails. No Hindi Outlook, no bananas. “Are you the one who’s going in?” he asked me. No Namashkar Guruji. I did not know what to say. He took out a soggy note from his pocket and handed it to me. It said, 'Outlook nahin mila (couldn’t find Outlook).'

'And the bananas?'

“'I ate them,' he said, 'I got hungry.'

"He really was a security threat.

"His backpack said Charlie Brown—Not your ordinary blockhead. He said his name was Mangtu. I soon learned that Dandakaranya, the forest I was about to enter, was full of people who had many names and fluid identities. It was like balm to me, that idea. How lovely not to be stuck with yourself, to become someone else for a while."

In the article she describes the real issue as the enormous resources that are at stake in the conflict. To control them, corporations can make enormous profits, at the terrible, fatal expense of the poor they take them from. Stop water far up the stream by a dam, turn it into energy to be sold by the rupee to those who can afford it. Divert the water from the fields of sustenance farmers downstream, and irrigate the large company agricultural holdings or toward multinational companies like Coca Cola. http://www.thenational.ae/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20100401/FOREIGN/703319884/1103 The corporations say they are bringing the tribal peoples "into the mainstream." Yet, they turn language into an insidious form of power to benefit those who can wield power and influence, leaving the poor isolated and alone. Add government buy-in and media influence, and Roy says the "wall of propaganda" hides the "well of silence" as the voices of those marginalized are not heard.

In the question and answer session that followed her reading, one woman asked her about the fiction Roy writes.  And Roy talked about the merging of fiction and non-fiction in the experience in the forest, about how the people she met took on and shed names and identities to protect themselves and others but also to honor the dead, who have died perhaps in the struggle for liberty and to protect their livelihood.

I see Roy unmasking what one side of the fight calls "fact" as a fictional tale they want to feed the rest of the country and the world.  And by entering the forest and recording the marginalized tribal people's history and their experience, she brings light to the truth of their struggle to survive on their own terms.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

A.Word.A.Day's Thought for Today

Bangkok, Thailand 2002
A.Word.A.Day
with Anu Garg © 2010 Wordsmith.org

A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
To write that essential book, a great writer does not need to invent it but merely to translate it, since it already exists in each one of us. The duty and task of a writer are those of translator. -Marcel Proust, novelist (1871-1922)

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Where to write

Where do you like to write? My preference changes.  Sometimes I like to write at home. Make myself a cup of tea, prepare a hot toddy like buttered rum, or pour myself a glass of something red, then close the door of the spare room, and  leave it to whatever is up there in my brain and the energy of my fingers to fill up the screen.

Other times, I cannot sit still. Rather, my attention cannot be still.  I need the background noise of a cafe to draw me into myself and the story.  It feels a little like hiding.  You know, alone at a table.  No one to talk to.  It's much easier to drown the dialogue and thoughts in a story, focus attention there.

Today I find myself at the Pig & Whistle in Greenwood.  A hefeweizen with a lemon. Mmmm. I love hefeweizen.  It's noisy and I'm early to meet a friend for dinner.  There's free wi-fi. My laptop computer.  And positive energy yet from a writing session I just left. Perfect.  Just the kind of situation to spin off a paragraph or two.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

826 Seattle: How To Use A Tomato To Tell Your Life Story (3.9.2010)

Local food writers  Molly Wizenberg and Matthew Amster-Burton laid out five principals to writing well.
1. Develop your own Voice
2. Tell a Story
3. Do your Homework
4. Avoid Cliches and Catch-all Adjectives
5. Revise

Inventive car and house metaphors to explain each of the above principles, notwithstanding, the two writers provided palatable morsels of how-to's for a packed room of would-be and practicing writers.  For example, Wizenberg used Ira Glass, host and producer of This American Life, to illustrate "voice" in a literal way--how easily we can recognize his voice and rhythm when we hear him and that affects the way we hear the stories he tells. In essence, no one else could tell the same story like he does.

The "tell a story" principle in food was a tall order, I thought. That is, until they served us each a chunk of kimchi and a block of chocolate and asked us to freewrite. One woman wrote about a period of her childhood in Korea and still another described her love-hate relationship with five-star-spicy food. And I remembered I used kimchi to spice up salmon soup I used to make in Japan.  Then it didn't seem so far off that writing about food were stories, too.

As a science writer, there is no article I write that doesn't involve copious research.  It comes with the territory.  But Amster-Burton's challenge to use the telephone hit home with me. He said, "When you bring someone else into your story, it gives the story a ring of truth that it would never have with only you and your paper." "Great writing sounds like truth," he added, and explained that someone said it but he couldn't remember their name.

Writers they recommended: Jonathan Gold, Francis Lam, Tad Friend, MFK Fisher, David Chang and Peter Meehan, Jeffrey Steingarten, and Frank Bruni

Monday, March 08, 2010

The Elegance of the Hedgehog (Muriel Barbery)

I knew that Elegance of the Hedgehog was a best-seller sensation, and like most folks, I'm drawn to books with such a reputation. And don't return the book to the library until I'm finished either, even if it is two weeks overdue. All to savor the sensation itself.

Apparently, the first printing was only 4000 books, and the demand in France soon skyrocketed. But what exactly is the appeal, I ask myself now, having finished every page.

Curious characters, perhaps? Two characters balance the narrative. A French concierge, Madame Renee Michel, who lives in a posh Parisian neighborhood, inconspicuous to the other tenants because she feigns the kind of personality an old, crotchety, not-well-off concierge would have. Her secret, however, is that she is a voracious reader of philosophy, literature, an art, music, and film affectionato, especially Japanese cinema. The other character is as much of an oddball. Paloma Josse is a 12-year old, unhappily living in the same building with her family, whom she regards as shallow. Resigned to this fate, she believes, Josse decides that on her 13th birthday, she will burn the apartment and commit suicide with the sleeping pills she has been sneaking from her mother. What upsets the isolation of these two is the moving in of a wealthy Japanese businessman, Monsieur Kakuro Ozo. He sees right through their disguises.

Or is the allure the drip-dropping of famous Japanese directors, philosophic musings, allusions to Tolstoy--both Michel and Ozo's cats are named after Tolstoy characters? Perhaps not surprising is that the author trained in and then taught philosophy. And that she currently lives in Japan with her husband. Take a look at her own blog: http://muriel.barbery.net/. I adore the pictures and the reflections--short and deep. So perhaps now I am merely in awe of the author, hoping some of her talent rubs off on me.

But why oh why end the book in the way it does? Take away the quills of Michel's porcupine self, which in more ways than one, are the weapons to protect her. For me, the wrap up is too tidy, too neat. And just plain disappointing. That's all I can say, as I cannot be a spoiler, and thus I trust you will read the novel and come to your own conclusions.