Elif Shafak's Journey Between Languages bis

Remember I had written about Elif Shafak's autobiographical novel Siyah Süt some time ago on this blog (see post An Ode to Women). The novel has now been translated into French at the Phebus Publishing House, the editor Daniel Arsand talks about Lait Noir on a Fnac Live video on You Tube. I wonder if it will be translated into English as well.

For the non French speakers among you, Shafak's novel Ask (which I didn't enjoy reading but was a huge success in Turkey) will be out in English under the title The Forty Rules of Love: A Novel of Rumi). The most interesting about this latest novel is the journey Shafak is doing between languages (see my previous post about her love of languages). Ask and The Forty Rules of Love show yet another crazy journey for the writer. Shafak has first written the novel in English, then it has been translated into Turkish by a translator. Shafak then took the translation and rewrote the novel. When the Turkish version was ready, she went back to the English version and rewrote it with a new spirit. She explains in an interview to Today's Zaman that she has "built two parallel books in the same span of time" She adds: "It is a bit insane, I have to admit. It is a crazy amount of work. I do this because language is my passion." And this is why, despite the fact that I don't always enjoy all her writings, I think Elif Shafak is an amazingly productive writer who can cross a lot of boundaries using languages.

Edinburgh Showcase 2009

I'm in Edinburgh the whole week and I will be blogging about performances and events I will attend from 24 to 29 August. Follow My Week at the Edinburgh Showcase blog if you are interested in performing arts!

Remember 17 August 1999

Ten years ago Turkey was living a tragedy. Official figures say 17,480 died, 23,781 were wounded and 285,211 residences were damaged (see the earthquake's wikipedia page in Turkish). Unofficial sources talk about 50,000 deaths and more than 100,000 wounded. Whichever are the right figures, the reality was that hundreds of thousands people lost way too much during the big Marmara Earthquake on 17 August 1999: their lives, their loved ones, their homes, parts of their body, their work, their trust...

Another big earthquake is expected in the same region, it can happen today, tomorrow or any time within the next decades. Yes, it is a natural disaster human beings cannot fight against. But we should be prepared. We should start by not building houses made of sand (shells were found in the building wreck at the time!!!). Government regulations on building need to be stronger and more importantly, it needs to be followed. Rescue teams should be ready at any time. Hospitals should be ready to host everyone. It is too easy to say that nature or God had its say and that there is nothing we can do about it. That's just too easy. We cannot stop an earthquake, but we can make sure that we don't lose hundreds of thousands of lives when one comes our way. And we must not forget the tragedy of ten years ago, not to cry our souls out and feel good about it, but to make sure every single citizen remembers when time comes to vote that they choose the ones that will care about their citizens' well being. And if you wonder what might happen next time, read Mine G. Kirikkanat's novel Bir gün, gece (translated into French as La malédiction de Constantin). Because reality can be scary doesn't mean we don't have to face it.

A Novel that Waxes Off Stereotypes

Three young women are meeting once a month to get their legs (and other parts of their body) waxed. They live in the Netherlands, they have a strong friendship and they talk freely about their choices in life: about their career, their lifestyle, their fears, their love stories and about sex. No, it's not the story of Carrie and her friends teleported to the land of the wooden shoes, and it's not an orientalist depiction of an escape from the Harem. De Harsclub, translating literally as "The Wax Club" is the story of Bahar -single girl living with her parents, Arzu -independent flight attendant living alone, and Yelda -married to the "perfect" husband. Stereotypes? No.

Senay Özdemir's novel goes far beyond its "Mediterranean Chick lit" label and its unoriginal cover. De Harsclub is a sincere novel and it is why it's such a pleasure to read. The author doesn't try to manipulate your thoughts about a certain community. In this novel, like in real life, Mediterranean/Turkish/Muslim women do care about and have a life full of fun, love, success and sex, and that is just ... natural. No stereotypical depiction of the "non Western" woman caught in the terrible-web-of-her-so-thought-doomed-culture. Being herself of Turkish descent, Senay Özdemir has a legitimate voice to tell the story of these three young women of Turkish origin living in the Netherlands. Because indeed, having Turkish roots does influence their thoughts and action, and it does shape their identity. But it does not ipso facto imply that they are trying to escape from an-OTHER world. These women are perfectly feeling in harmony with their identity, because it is composed by more than just nationality or tradition. Arzu, Bahar and Yelda are before everything else women, and Özdemir does not feel she needs to justify their needs, their passions, their stories, in any way. She doesn't have to and it feels so good. I recognized myself in these characters, I also recognized my mother, my aunt and my girlfriends, all with their own backgrounds, all with their own identities, all sharing stories of life as women, in their own way. I enjoyed their company and moreover, I enjoyed not having been put in a box again.

De Harsclub, by Senay Özdemir (Archipel Amsterdam - Antwerpen, 185 pages). In Dutch.
Senay Özdemir's blog: http://senayozdemir.blogspot.com/

The Power of Storytelling

For those of you who understand French, I would urge you to listen to Le Monde's "Ma première nuit en France" series. The title means "My first night in France" and on each recording, one person is telling his or her own first night in France. Whether they came to France to settle or just to visit, they all have something to say, and they are all worth listening to.

Abdellah tells about his "rêve de pauvre" (dream of the poor) to become a writer, a filmmaker, "all these activities which are not serious things when you are poor", he says, "they don't feed you". Jenny, a British teacher coming from Greece, arrives at 24 and finds herself sheltered on her first-almost-homeless-night by a colleague she just meets. Mikaël comes from the USA and explains how he voiced "Messieurs Dames je vous aime" in the middle of a café, the only sentence he could say in French at the time. His story gets funnier when he tells about how he and his friend released exotic birds from cages on his landlord's balcony at 4am. Angelika tells about her experience as a 16 year old tourist seeing Paris for the first time with her boyfriend -and whose parents have arranged them to stay in separate bedrooms at a small hotel in the romantic city. She has been drawing her vision of Paris from the literature of Simone de Beauvoir and Victor Hugo, and spent her first night wondering about the all night screaming cat she thought was a tortured baby. Margani arrives to France from Somalia to study. He tells how anxious he was to fail "because I didn't know any French". The street where he lived in Mogadishu was so full of life he thought Paris would be even livelier, but on his first night he saw the city empty and thought "Morgani, you are dead!", then he tells how he slept on top of the bed with his clothes on because he didn't realise he could get inside the bed and sleep comfortably wrapped in the blanket.

There is something so powerful in telling stories. Even the simplest, most anecdotal ones, when told with sincerity, can deeply touch. So far you can listen online to the stories of Abdellah, Jenny, Mikaël, Angelika and Margani. Each of them funny, poignant, passionate, they all, in their own way, tell the story of a discovery.

More stories will be told throughout the summer on Le Monde's "Ma première nuit en France" series.

Young People, Get your Mobile Phones!

I have been heavily involved in the creation of a competition for young people within the project I am currently working on, called Inclusion and Diversity in Education (INDIE). Getting ideas from my previous job experience and having seen what great things come out of films made with a mobile phone... I have thought that it would be great to ask the young people in secondary schools to make films with their mobile phones about diversity in their school, home and everyday life. Luckily the people I am working with on this project loved the idea and we developed it together: INDIE goes Mobile is now launched! The competition info and rules exist in several languages as it is open to all secondary school students in 9 European countries. So young people, get your mobile phones and show us how you see diversity!

Literary Boston and New York

I've been willing to write about my trip to Boston and New York City a while ago. It's been a month now that I'm back but it's not too late to share some great literary moments I had there.

Bookshop on the corner of Bleecker and 11th Street, New York City

First let me start with Boston, a city full of culture and history where I was to attend the Media in Transition conference at MIT. I've attended several panels on different topics.
The first panel was about Digital Classrooms and Digital Curricula, there's been very fruitful and necessary discussions about collaborative education and teacher training on new technologies. Students may be digital natives, but most of the teachers aren't. A clear emphasis on knowing rather than knowledge (don't think knowledge is only in your brain) has been put forward so to go towards a more participatory culture. "Classrooms don't have walls anymore" was one of the messages about the possibilities given by new media & technologies to use in education. The second panel I've been to was Race, Nationality and the Digital Technologies with 4 very interesting papers that I would suggest you have a look if interested in the topic. The use of the internet has been analysed from Black communities in the USA to Aboriginal communities in Canada. One paper has also presented how hate speech, which was mostly spread through underground media (flyers, meetings...) in the recent past, has been reaching a much wider audience, expanding globally, being very active on social networking and in the cyberspace. The Databases, Encyclopedias, Archives panel has been focusing a lot on history, on digital approaches to history, and on the evolution of the encyclopedia and the emergence of wikipedia. The last panel I've been to was Fiction and Media Change. Since the last few months, I've been more and more interested in the emergence of a "new" literature, with authors not afraid of using new technologies in their narratives, or even to write for different types of media than the printed book (the Penguin project "We Tell Stories" is one great example of the possibilities offered by new media to tell stories). These various possibilities haven't been really discussed in the panel, staying more focused on literary theory and other comparisons between the novel and the cinema for example. There is thus still a lot more to share and to explore, so do have a look at the titles of the papers, most of them available online (see the list and links at the end of this post). After MIT, a visit to Harvard was of course compulsory, and so to the wonderful bookstores all around Cambridge. The Boston Public Library was stunning, and the lovely Boston Athanaeum has been a great discovery.

Boston Public Library

New York has also its load of culture and literature. It's the fourth time I went to New York and never really took the opportunity to enter the Public Library, which I did this time and couldn't understand why I didn't put such a great place in my list together with the MET, MOMA and other landmarks (seeing it from outside is not enough). I've been quite moved seeing the Gutenberg Bible.

One of the 48 copies of the Gutenberg Bible, New York Public Library

And last but not least, I could enjoy the PEN World Voices Festival in New York, which I wanted to go to for such a long time. I've had the chance to meet and listen to authors I really like, among them Laila Lalami, Neil Gaiman and Shaun Tan. I've also discovered many wonderful authors, and I had to come to New York to discover a Dutch author of children book from Amsterdam, Marieken Jongman. I told her I would attend events she will be in when back in Amsterdam.

Neil Gaiman, Marieken Jongman and Shaun Tan at the PEN Voices

And here are the signed books, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits by Laila Lalami and Tales from Outer Suburbia by Shaun Tan, both wonderful books:

You can read all the papers of the panelists on the MIT6 website. Here are the panels I've referred to above:
Digital Classrooms and Digital Curricula

Jami Carlacio, Lance Heidig, Teaching Digital Literacy Digitally Julio Gonzalez-Appling, Technology as a Bridge in the 21st-Century Classroom Bernadette Longo, Using Social Networks and Mobile Technologies to Enhance the Classroom Space Alice Robison, New Media Literacies by Design: The Game School
Race, Nationality and Digital Technologies
John Edward Campbell, From Barbershop to BlackPlanet: The Construction of Hush Harbors in Cyberspace
Kate Hennessy, Repatriation, Digital Cultural Heritage, and the (Re)Production of Meaning in a Canadian Aboriginal Community
Adam Klein, A Space for Hate: The White Power Movement’s Adaptation in Cyberspace
Nancy van Leuven, The New Mediated Environment of American Indians
Databases, Encyclopedias, Archives
Paul Arthur, History in Motion: Digital Approaches to the Past
Erinc Salor, Encyclopedic Endeavor and the Internet
Peter Walsh, The Uses of Catastrophe: Ninveh, Layard, and the Future of Knowledge
Fiction and Media Change
Jonathan Butler, Novel Obligations: The Future of Fiction in the Digital Age
Staffan Ericson, Death at Broadcasting House
Joanne McNeil, New Media in Fiction: Why the Novel’s Protagonist Never Plays with his iPhone
Annika Olsson, Narratives of Literature in Print and Cyberspace

Perihan Mağden's Two Girls

I've been deeply touched by a very strong novel: İki Genç Kızın Romanı ("The novel of two girls", translated by Brendan Freely and published as Two Girls in English), by Turkish author and columnist Perihan Mağden. The novel has also been adapted to the cinema by Kutluğ Ataman. I like Mağden because she speaks/writes her mind, and in Turkey, this is not an easy task. She is of course criticized by many and has even been prosecuted by the Turkish government because of the views she expressed on mandatory military service. In this novel, Mağden depicts the lives of two teenage girls in Istanbul. The polar tone of the novel strengthens the feeling of oppression, especially for a girl in a male dominant environment. The force of Mağden's third person omniscient narration also lies in the encounter of these two characters, the angry Behiye and the naive Handan. Both girls are coming from very distinct backgrounds: Behiye is the sister of an older brother and the daughter of a conservative family she hates, and Handan is the unique daughter of a prostitute she loves. Since the very moment they meet, Behiye sees Handan as her saviour: the beautiful girl who will save her from her life, her brother, her mother who cries all the time... Behiye hates life, she doesn't like herself much either, until she finds Handan and grabs her to the core. Their bond is beyond friendship and sisterhood, it is almost amorous. The murders of boys happening all around Istanbul together with Behiye's unreasonable attitude and open hatred against the world (especially towards men) intensify the sense of danger and threat. This impossible relationship is told in an incredibly honest and down to earth language. The word plays are brilliant (and I guess a real challenge to translate). This is an excellent work of contemporary literature and I believe quite original in the current Turkish literary scene.

The cover of the Turkish edition of the novel published by Merkez Kitapçılık ve Yayıncılık (Istanbul, June 2006, 255 pages)

Elif Shafak's Journey between Languages

Most of you might know how strongly I always objected to people saying that one can only write in his or her own native or first language. I am now so relieved to read Elif Shafak's column of 17 March. For those of you who cannot read Turkish, I would like to share some of her views here. Shafak starts her article explaining how people like to ask her why she is writing in English, and even sometimes argue that by writing in English, she becomes a writer of English language literature. "It isn't so!" she says and argues that today, when so many people are living and growing up and get educated in different languages, live in different countries, move so much, we shouldn't put people into such narrow categories. Elif Shafak is writing both in English and in Turkish, not only is this important for the author, but it is for the reader. I don't feel the same when I read her work when the original version is English (like The Bastard of Istanbul or The Saint of Incipient Insanities) or Turkish (like Mahrem or Bit Palas). I always prefer to read books in their original written language, the same goes when I watch movies. Whenever possible, I prefer the original version. And in case of Elif Shafak's work, I can join her in the journey between languages because luckily, I understand both Turkish and English. I sometimes have more trouble understanding Shafak's work in Turkish because she uses a very elaborate vocabulary with many ancient Turkish words (I love to learn by the way!). And this is what I love about her work, this "journey between languages" as she likes to put it. It is also a journey for her readers, at least it is for me.

Her last novel published in Turkey and in Turkish, Ask (pronounced "Ashk", meaning "Love") is the example of such an adventurous and passionate journey. Shafak has written the novel in English and had it translated into Turkish by Kadir Yiğit Uz. Then she reworked on the Turkish version, so in a sense, Ask "has been written again". In her column, Shafak also fairly explains that it isn't an easy task for a writer to express him or herself in a different language and that it would simply be madness if one wouldn't simply love working like that. She offers a wide range of examples of writers who have been writing in different languages and in languages which aren't their first, like Nabokov, Beckett, or Conrad (whose English Virginia Woolf heavily criticized). Well yes, they are all among the best writers of the 20th century so no doubt that were successful.

I am fascinated by languages and I myself speak five. I do certainly not master them all the same way but all of them open different doors of the world to me, make me experience different cultures, teach me different visions and ways of life, and offer me such a wide range of possibilities to express myself. So I think I do know what Elif Shafak is sharing with her readers and I do applaud her for the way she shakes herself, her readers and literature to its very core.

Elif Shafak's column in the Newspaper Zaman appears twice a week.

Birmingham

I've been to Birmingham for a couple of days last week and was quite impressed by the city. I've only heard very negative things about it, not less than "Birmingham sucks" "It's boring!" or more simply: "There's nothing in Birmingham!" So maybe I was impressed because I had very low expectations, but still, I do think it's a pretty city.

Birmingham has been through great changes in the last few years. And having such a young and diverse population must help the city being dynamic and full of creativity.

If you ever go to Birmingham, try to wander around and look at the nice buildings and definitely stop by the Waterstones bookstore on 128 New Street, whether it's for the books or the building itself.

Photos: Statue on Victoria Square, inside Waterstones, Facade of Waterstones on 123 New Street

Inspired by Amy Güth

American author, editor, festival founder Amy Güth has posted a very fun video on her blog: "About my Shoes" I love reading her posts and if I could find her novel Three Fallen Women (out of print) I would certainly read that too. If I go to Chicago, I'll sure try to attend one of her events. This post is to tell Amy that I also like taking pictures of my shoes everywhere! Here are some:

My shoes in Lubeck:
My shoes in Sevilla:

My shoe in Granada:
Vive les shoes!

What's in a name?

Is one's whole identity in a name? What does it say about where one comes from? Does it say anything about where one goes? Would one be different if named differently? Does one try to escape their identity by using a pen name? I'm sure you all would have different answers to these questions. I have some I'd like to share. Many people who know me as Canan ask me where the name Ayse come from? Well... Ayse is actually my first name and it appears on my passport , driver's licence, identity card, my diplomas, and therefore on my plane tickets, bank cards, on my door bell. Canan has been amputated by officials and only appears as a C. on all these documents. Most people call me Canan because it's how my parents and friends have been calling me for the last 29 years. And for 29 years my name has been transformed to Conan, Chanan, Shanan, Kanaan and so on. I always felt I had a different name outside Turkey. The pronunciation was changing with the geography where it was spoken. The closest to the Turkish pronounciation would be Janan or even Jaanan. I only bother correcting people when they pronounce K, but I don't mind if the J becomes CH or SH. Some friends and colleagues call me Ayse, and most people only need to pronounce my name once, so I never correct the latter bunch. The correct pronounciation would sound Ayshe.... so if you chose to call me Ayse...
Does my name cover my whole identity? Thank God no! It helps understanding my history, it says where my name comes from, and one can guess where I or my family might come from too. As for where I go and how I'd be going if I had another name, I cannot say. I am just happy I have two names I love and that belong to me, because both have been offered to me by my parents.
Since I moved to the Netherlands, it got even easier to avoid the confusion: on all official paperwork you're only asked to write down your "Hoofdletter", the first letter of your surnames. Happy me, I'm now A.C.! My name journey will never end, fortunately.

Books & Brussels

One of my favorite activities when in Brussels is to wander in bookstores. Not that there are none in Amsterdam (there are plenty and very high quality bookstores like Athenaeum Boekhandel), it's just that I miss being surrounded by books written in French when I enter a bookstore. Athenaeum has a fairly good section of French speaking books and I can always order online. But I still love going to a bookstore, seeing what's new, discovering some jewel of a book chosen by the employees that month, or just touching the hard and paper back covers, opening and going through the pages. So last week I've been to Tropismes for the wide choice of fiction, theatre and poetry, to Brüsel for the graphic novels and comic books but also the very nice gallery, and although impersonal and too big I've been to FNAC (avoid the place on Saturday!) because of the wide space. Here are some titles I've bought during my visits:

"Entre les murs" by François Bégaudeau (you will certainly know the adaptation to cinema from Laurent Cantet: "The Class"), "De cendres et de fumées" by Philippe Blasband and "Pyongyang" by Quebecois graphic novelist Guy Delisle. Other acquisitions are translated works: "Le Dieu Manchot" by José Saramago, "Le voyage dans le passé" by Stefan Zweig and two mangas: "The Outsider" by Gou Tanaber and"Le Champ de l'arc-en-ciel/Nijigahara Holograph" by Inio Asano.

My hunger for books has been satiated during my stay in Brussels. The Brussels Book Fair began when I was still there! I've spoken to some authors, discovered new publishing houses, listened to Enki Bilal talk about his new work ANIMAL'Z , lied to Joseph Joffo about willing to buy one of his books but claiming I needed to go to the ATM (I have read "A Bag of Marbles" in high school and didn't want to buy old fashioned editions of his books - but there's no excuse, I feel bad, I shouldn't lie!), discovered the work of Karin Tuil during her talk and listened to interviews of authors on the radio on my way back home to Amsterdam, a bag full of publisher catalogs, promotional bookmarks and books on the passenger seat.

Visit Amsterdam!

I've been preparing a short virtual visit of Amsterdam for the Virtourist website the last few weeks, and finally it is ready and online! You can visit this wonderful city which has been my home for more than a year now by clicking here. Enjoy!

Photo: Klovenierburgswal by Erinc Salor

Blank...

I haven't got the opportunity to post anything for a while. I have also been really lazy these last weeks (except during my trip in South Korea which was a delightful experience!). I haven't written a line for weeks now, my short stories are still waiting on my hard drive and somewhere in my mind. Ideas are still alive but structure is nowhere around! I will give myself some time, not too long though, but just enough to get back to work and being productive! Feels good even to write about it now!

Me upside down at the Film Museum in Mole Antonelliana , Torino, Dec 2007 (photo by Erinc Salor)

Hopeful Apology

Academics Prof. Ahmet İnsel, Prof. Baskın Oran, Dr. Cengiz Aktar and journalist Ali Bayramoğlu have started an online petition aimed at all Turkish people to sign and affirm their feelings of injustice about the negation of the Armenian massacres of 1915.

Here is a translation of the statement that you can read in Turkish on the homepage of the website www.ozurdiliyoruz.com ("özür diliyoruz" means "we apologize"):
My conscience does not allow me to deny and be insensitive to the Great Catastrophe experienced by the Ottoman Armenians in 1915. I reject this injustice, for my own part share my fellow Armenian brothers and sisters' feelings and pain, and apologize from them.
After you enter your name and other relevant details, you have to click on "özür diliyorum" (I apoligize) to sign the petition.

Among the supporters of this hopeful initiative are famous writers, activists, artists and more like Cem Özdemir, Nilüfer Göle, Murathan Mungan, Nedim Gürsel, Perihan Magden ...(see the complete list under "Destekleyenler" on the homepage of Ozur Diliyorum).
I can only applaud such an initiative but do acknowledge that the way to reach real understanding and reconciliation between the two nations has been extremely slow and full of denials during the last 90 years. There is still a lot to do, and if signing the online petition can help taking a step forward, I have no other choice than taking action and start with an apology.

Also read Sarah Rainsford article on BBC news and the Turkish newspaper Radikal's short report.

Sinterklaas arrives to Amsterdam!

I was sitting in my living room on this nice and quiet Sunday morning, when I suddenly heard boat horns and music arriving from far. The entertaining sounds started approaching quickly, and I couldn't let my curiosity sleep and jumped out of the comfy couch to have a look out from the window. Loads of boats with people dancing on it were passing on the "Nieuwe Herengracht" canal next to my apartment, with excited kids and adults on the street hailing at them. On the boats (dancing) and in the streets (running, dancing and cycling), there were plenty of people with their faces painted in black and wearing colorfoul costumes who were distributing candies to the kids: these were Zwarte Pieten! Only then had I finally understood what was happening: "Sinterklaas is coming!", have I shouted in the living room. My partner gave a suprising glance at me: "Sinter who?" "Look at the Zwarte Pieten! Sinterklaas is coming!" My excitement wasn't convincing to him: "What Pitt?".
I remember celebrations of Saint-Nicholas when I was living in Belgium. As a kid, I loved the fact that we could eat loads of marzipan (I even thought we could only find marzipan at this time of the year, which fortunately isn't true), I never really believed in Saint-Nicholas (or in Santa Claus), but I still liked the celebrations (what kind of kid wouldn't like receiving gifts and candies?). Every year on 6 December, the Dutch and the Belgian celebrate Sinterklaas in honour of Saint-Nicholas (klaas is a nickname for Nicolaas), the patron saint of children, sailors, merchants, pawnbrokers and Amsterdam, which I honestly didn't know until I read it in the Lonely Planet Amsterdam. The white-bearded man dressed as a bishop arrives to Amsterdam every year in mid-November (I didn't know it would be today) by ship from "Spain" and enters the city on a horse to receive the keys of the city from the mayor (Mayor Cohen did it in front of the Scheepvaartmuseum today).

He is of course followed by his Zwarte Pieten who, apart from throwing candies to the kids are also carrying sacks to take the naughty ones away (which they of course never do during the parade). The idea is that well-behaved kids receive gifts in a shoe they've placed next to the chimney with a carrot for the patron's horse. One Zwarte Piet climbs down the chimney and puts the gift in the shoe, and I suppose takes the carrot away for the horse, since I cannot imagine the horse climbing down the chimney (as if I could imagine a man with a face painted in black doing the same!). The North American Santa Claus evolved from the Sinterklaas celebrations at the Dutch settlement of New Amsterdam (today's New York).
I've seen Amsterdammers going crazy celebrating New Year and the Queen's Birthday on 30 April, and today the arrival of Sinterklaas to their city. I have been amazed again by their capacity of getting together and celebrate. Today's party goers were the kids, the young ones and old ones!
Photos taken on the Prins Hendrikkade, Amsterdam

Literature and Identities

I was just reading an article about contemporary German literature in the French newspaper Le Monde. It basically explains how much richness and diversity immigrants living in Germany and writing in German have brought to contemporary German literature. In addition to talking about immigrants, I would have added that many writers whose parents were immigrants and whose first language might be other than German, have now chosen to write in German. Anyway, I must admit that I am a bit difficult about the use of terminologies like "immigrant" or "mother tongue", so let's say it's fair enough to use it broadly in this case. But what I don't understand is the parenthesis in the following sentence, where the author reports from the Frankfurt international book fair, in which Turkey was the guest country of honor this year:

...au-delà des écrivains turcs invités, bien d'autres, qui vivent en Allemagne et ont choisi d'écrire en allemand (le pays compte 3,4 millions de musulmans dont une majorité de Turcs), occupent désormais une place de choix dans le paysage littéraire : Feridun Zaimoglu, Emine Sevgi Ozdamar ou Hatice Akyün, notamment, ont enrichi ces dernières années la littérature germanophone de leur imaginaire et de leurs trouvailles stylistiques.

When talking about the Turkish authors living in Germany and who have chosen to write in German, she feels the need to tell us that Germany counts 3.4 million Muslims, from which a majority are Turkish. Can someone explain to me what this information has to do with writing in German or being Turkish? What does it add to our understanding of contemporary writing in Germany? It doesn't even tell us how many people from Turkish origin live in the country, so it doesn't add any relevant information, except that the author is making a serious amalgam here between country of origin and religion! Personally, I don't mind being called "Turkish", because among many others, it's one of the adjectives that indeed adds relevant information to who I am. I would accept "Muslim" to some extend, but even there I might find it odd to chose it as a first way of describing myself. As for "immigrant", it is a word that certainly wouldn't help describing me. It could even be misleading because I haven't really emigrated from anywhere, my parents did. They didn't ask for my opinion when I was in my mother's belly. The only thing that being called an immigrant would do to me is, alienating me from my parents country (because I have supposedly left it) and from the place where I live, and where I am supposed to feel home. How would you like to be called then, will you say? Don't call me one thing, I am from Turkish descent, yes, and I am a Turkish citizen. I am also a Belgian citizen and a resident of the Netherlands. I am speaking five languages, and mastering writing in at least three. So no, if I am going to be published one day, supposedly in French, I would not like to be called an immigrant writer! I had enough of that. Everyday life is narrow enough to put people into boxes, so I do believe we can do better in the literary, and in any artistic and creative domains for that matter. Of course ethnic, religious and cultural frameworks can influence creativity, and it does add a lot to the overall picture, but literature gives so much more space to writers and their readers. It's an immense area where we can move beyond frontiers, go much further than everyday life.

I would like to end with a quote from 2000 Nobel Laureate for Literature Gao Xingjian, from a speech given at the inauguration of the last edition of Kosmopolis, an international Literature festival held from 22 to 26 October in Barcelona:

"When literature becomes a hymn of praise for a country, the flag of a nation, the voice of a political party or mouthpiece of a class or group, it can be used as a powerful and crushing instrument of propaganda, but it loses its intrinsic nature ..."

Love story between a Fairy and a Wizard

Author Laurel Snyder asked of the blogosphere, "What is your favorite book from childhood?", and following Amy Guth's post on her blog I am now telling you about one of my favorite childhood books: L'Enchanteur by René Barjavel. I think I must have read that book four times. It was one of our French class reading assignment and it luckily came in during my I'm-crazy-about-Arthurian-legend period. I would definitely suggest it to anyone who reads French (I'm afraid it has never been translated into English, please correct me if I'm wrong).

Written in 1984, L'Enchanteur could be seen as yet another novel based on the Arthurian legend, but Barjavel manages to make much more of it. He freely transforms the story into a romance: one between Merlin the Wizard (L'Enchanteur) and the Lady of the Lake Vivian. I still vividly remember the tenderness that links both characters (I can still hear Viviane's soft voice in my head). The main theme remains of course the quest for the Graal, and many other well known heroes appear in the novel: King Arthur, Perceval, Queen Guenièvre and Lancelot, whose love story is also quite powerful in Barjavel's narrative. The author plays a lot with conventions through voluntary anacronysms as well, introducing for instance tin cans and an electric chimney into the medieval story. Nevertheless, the main theme of this magical novel remains LOVE. The love story between kings and queens, knights and queens, between Vivian and Merlin, the Fairy who could see the human in the Wizard.

Photo: Cover of the Paperback edition - Collection FOLIO

The Sincerity of Margo Rabb

Remember I wrote about Margo Rabb and her essay about Young Adult literature in the New York Times this summer. I have finally had the chance to read her latest novel “Cures for Heartbreak” (better later than never!). I had searched for it in several bookshops in Amsterdam and in Brussels, and since I couldn’t find it I simply ordered it online. After being away for a month, I was back home and “Cures for Heartbreak” was waiting for me…

The only family grief I have ever experienced was the loss of my grandfather four years ago. It was sad but in no way comparable to loosing one’s parent. So I had absolutely no idea how it must be like to lose one’s mum at the age of 15. I still don’t have a clue of course and I will never; because I am 29 and my mother is still alive and in good health. The day she will be gone, I will experience grief, but not like a 15 year old girl. I have been deeply touched by Margo Rabb’s narrative. I am not going to discuss why it is a YA novel or why it should or shouldn’t be, simply because I am no specialist in the field and also because no matter on what shelve the book has been placed, I am only interested in sharing my feelings about its content and not about its label. But the subject in itself is quite fascinating and really interesting. Many writers and reviewers have discussed the subject of YA literature on the blogosphere (check Colleen Mondor’s blog Chasing Ray among many others and of course Margo Rabb's essay on the NYT).

"Cures for Heartbreak" starts with Mia, her sister Alex and their father choosing a coffin for their mother’s funeral. “We’re in a play in which the funeral is the last act” says the father for the fifth time in two days. It all indeed looks so surreal: one day, Mia’s mother is diagnosed with cancer, “If she dies, I’ll die” writes the young 15 year old girl in her diary, and twelve days later, she dies But Mia doesn’t. She carries her grief everywhere, because this kind of love never dies but it hurts deeply. Throughout the novel, I was immersed in Mia’s world, in her fears, her doubts, her wishes, her friendships, her laughs and even her grief. Michael Chabon puts it absolutely right when he writes that the novel is “(…) sad, funny, smart, (and) endlessly poignant (…)” As she explains in the afterword, Margo Rabb has based herself on her own experience to write this novel. However, what makes the book magical and real is not that it contains autobiographical elements, but the sincerity of the narrative voice. Mia is not Margo, she is a fictional character and she has a life on her own, she is free from any psychological therapy many authors are unfortunately producing throughout their characters. This why I loved “Cures for Heartbreak” and I strongly recommend it to everyone, no matter how old. The still unconvinced ones can start having a look at Margo Rabb’s original and really enriching blog Books, Chocolate, Sundries where you will meet plenty of other fascinating authors presented through Margo's eyes. Again, always in a very sincere way.