Kerala Writes Back

 

Kerala writers in English are talented enough to influence the shape and future of Indian writing in English

 

To use English better than the Queen's own people has always been an Indian desire. It is the empire striking back--writing back, to be literally precise.

And, the role of writers from Kerala in the process of mastering the coloniser's language and using it better than the natives is not any less significant.

When Arundhati Roy won the Booker in 1997, she had not only brought accolades to India but broke new ground in English diction. She had the spleen to use Malayalam words and expressions boldly, and believed that English is a bastard language and why not Malayalam words in it. No one said anything, and Arundhati walked away with the Booker.

Kerala is not strange to high-brow literature. We have world-class writers of our own in Vaikkom Muhammed Bashir, MT Vasudevan Nair, ONV Kuruppu, Kamala Das, K Satchidanandan, etc., and Keralites are not strangers to international masterpieces either. Perhaps we are more familiar with Latin American writers than the readers in their own countries. The leading publishers in the state will testify to the swelling market for translation of both fiction and non-fiction, which means Malayalees read world literature.

If we have a crop of Malayalam writers who could walk into any literary parlour with their head held high, we also have a bunch of writers who are talented enough to influence the shape and future of Indian writing in English.

Indo-Anglian writing, which is Indian writing in English, itself has gone through a makeover phase. The public-school trained minds and outlooks and the top-to-down stiff-upper-lip perspectives have given way to an aam admi bottom-upward perspective.

The tales of the Oxford-returnees and Cambridge-comebacks, their drawing room skirmishes with daft maids and stupid burglars have been replaced with stories of sweat, dust and fret of Indian life. 

In the beginning, Indian writing in English was kept at bay by regional writers for being ‘away from the soil’. Vernacular writers across the country were not much impressed with the themes as they found it disconnected from the reality of life in India. Even though there was a whiff of truth in it, the regional writers were being too parochial in their thinking and outlook. One of the reasons for the vernacular writers getting cynical about the Indian writers in English was the wider acceptance and reach they enjoyed.

Indian writing in English came to its own commercially by early 90s, even though we have always had quality writers like RK Narayanan whose prose and characters carried the rural air and village life. But it was after ‘super agent’ David Godwin flew down to Delhi with a much-chronicled advance cheque to Arundhati Roy for her scintillating The God of Small Things that a treasure trove was opened for Indian writing in English.

But much before Arundhati happened and turned India and Indian writing into a commercial haven, Kamala Das or Malayalees’ Madhavikutty, created a flutter with her powerful poetry and candid writing—shaking up the sensibilities of the conservative mind but warming the hearts of poetry lovers in India and abroad. She was the first Malayalee writer in English to have caught the imagination of international audience and critics. Even though Arundhati has won the Booker, she was more of a cerebral writer than of a writer who would tug at readers’ heart, like Kamala Das did. Arundhati appealed to the brain—even in the sensational The God of Small Things. But Kamala Das was the quintessential poet of the heart—the one who wrote about the gnashes and bruises in the heart.

Among Malayalee poets in English, CP Surendran and Jeet Thayil made their mark with distinct voice and emotional appeal before they both got into writing fiction. Surendran, son of Malayalam writer Pavanan, and Jeet, son of veteran journalist TJS George, have been impressive with their prose ventures. Surendran, a senior editor with The Times of India, has written two novels and, according to the grapevine, has finished the first draft of his third book. Jeet has just published his latest novel, Nacropolis, and is going places. Both writers have evolved from expressing poetic brilliance into mature writers of prose, able to negotiate the challenges of building a beginning, middle and an end.

However, we have Prof. K Satchidanadan or Satchida or Satchi mash, standing tall like a lone beacon—for years married to poetry and still romancing it! He has been the face of Indian poetry abroad, having translated many vernacular writers and himself. Satchidanandan, who believes that no moment in life is unpoetic, has been a relentless advocate of poetry of all type and form. Satchidanandan has travelled wide, reading and meeting writers from various cultures and forms of literary expression. His contribution to the culture of Indo-Anglian writing cannot be ignored even while we bask in the alpine glow of sunshine prose.

There are over 20 Malayalee writers in English who have been published to international acclaim. But only a handful of them have their works set in Kerala, which again points to the fact that Malayalees are a global presence, and when they give expressions to their creative urge, they reflect an array of cultures, details of the immediate surroundings of their life and their experiences.

Unlike writers in English from other states who live elsewhere in the country and choose to write about their own state and villages, most of Malyayalee writers tend to write with more cosmopolitan outlook.

“You write to appropriate part of your landscape you know to yourself. Most of Indian writers living abroad have set their novels, stories in India. Actually it depends on what moves you strongly that you feel the need to write,” says Binoo K John, author of The Last Song of Savio De Souza, set in his home town Thiruvananthapuram.

“My novel was set in Kerala because all the ingredients were from there. It is totally rooted there. I don’t think there is anything wrong in having a cosmopolitan setting. Nor is a Kerala writer obliged to set his story in his home state. In terms of values Kerala as a whole has a lot of cosmopolitan values. Kerala is modern in many ways,” adds John.

However, barring novels like The God of Small Things, The Last Song of Savio De Souza, Jaisree Mishra’s Ancient Promises, CP Surendran’s Iron Harvest, which talks about the Naxal era in Kerala, and Anita Nair’s Mistress, not many novels by Kerala writers delve deep into the life and the socio-political changes in the state. Of course, there are mentions and episodes in many of their works.

Most ‘expatriate’ writers tend to write about their home because they have a sense of loss. But surprisingly, majority of Kerala writers don’t seem to be writing out of any such overriding emotion.

For example, Shashi Tharoor. “I have not been a typical expatriate to write about a sort of severance from home that he or she has lost. Kerala has always been accessible to me and right from my UN days I have been coming home quite frequently. So I didn’t have a sense of loss or desperation to recapture something when I think about Kerala,” says Tharoor. “Having said that, my Indian identity has mattered more than my Kerala identity. My own life and experience have been more of a pan-Indian one. Though as a writer my vision is a national one,” he adds.

However, Manu Joseph, who made a sensational debut last year with his award-winning Serious Men, feels that Kerala is a great setting for a novel.

“It has complicated characters, literary alcoholics, feminists who make cutting remarks, daughters-in-law who write brilliant poetry about mothers-in-law, generally a population that has an opinion about everybody around it,” he says. “All these are very good for a novel. Also, Kerala is physically beautiful, which helps the setting.”

He also feels that Malayalee writers in English who live in Kerala are at a disadvantage. “I think there are a lot of good novelists who are setting their novels in Kerala but they are not getting published because they live far away from Delhi, which is where unfortunately Indian publishing is headquartered.”

Joseph, editor of Open magazine, adds: “My forthcoming novel, The Illicit Happiness of Other People, is about a Malayalee family. But it is only partly set in Kerala—mostly in Madras.

Whether they write about Kerala or not, the contributions of Kerala writers to Indian writing in English cannot be ignored. They have been brave enough to experiment and break new ground.

The God of Small Things took a dig at many of our pet peeves, breaking many of our conventions and convictions. Arundhati garnished her English diction with many Malayalam words and slangs. And, it gave Jaisree Mishra the confidence to use words like “Kodimaram” in her promising debut Ancient Promises, a story set both in Delhi and Kerala.

Arundhati is yet to come out with another fiction while she has been quite expressive of their intellectual urges through her polemics. Jaisree has taken up popular fiction and been quite prolific in terms of quantity.

Tharoor has also been a prolific and high-profile writer, thanks to his global exposure by virtue of his stint at the UN. Though there are references to life in Kerala in many of his books, the overall tint of his writing is pan-Indian. He has largely been writing about India for an international audience, for whom his face is more identifiable as an Indian than most others. Even though he has not written fiction of late, he is toying with the idea of coming back to fiction.

Manu Joseph has gone places with his debut novel, and won prizes here and abroad. His new novel, The Illicit Happiness of Other People, is well under way, and it talks about life in Madras and, again, about common men.

Kochi-based Anees Salim, who will be making his debut this year, already has three books bought by HarperCollins (two) and Amaryllis. This reporter has been privileged to read his manuscripts and can vouch that he is a terrific writer who can lead the Malayalee writers in their experiments in form and matter.

Mridula Koshy, following her collection of short-stories, If It Is Sweet, has written her first novel, The Same Road, due this month. Anjali Joseph, following her award-winning first novel Saraswati Park, has written her second, Another Country.

From satire to chick-lit to popular fiction to high-quality literary fiction, Kerala writers present a wide range of genres, contributing richly to Indian writing in English. They maybe living in different corners of the globe, and may not even have a strong pull towards the place of their biological origin, but if we make a list of Malyalee writers in English, they are all under the tag of God’s Own Country.

No matter what genre the Kerala writers write in English, especially the newcomers, they keep their ears on the ground, and do not fail to pick the pulse of life. As Manu Joseph says, “We are all regional writers who write in English.”

It is time to take notice, for Kerala, like the empire, is writing back!

 

(Published in Vibrant Keralam, June 2012)