Dear Editor,
It is heartening to see that there’s something of a ‘controversy’ ( or at least an attempt at an exchange of views ) about Caribbean literature developing in the ‘letters to the Editor’ section of the Stabroek News. The recent exchanges between Ameena Gafoor and Abu Bakr on the subject of VS Naipaul’s work provide a welcome example of critical dialogue, a kind of public ‘conversation’ that reminds us of the value of worthwhile disagreement. It stimulates the mind and can lead to a deeper understanding of ourselves and our societies.
If a good newspaper, as Arthur Miller once said, is ‘a nation talking to itself’, then it is a welcome sign that Guyanese are still able to talk about the Arts in spite of the general dismay and public alarm we all feel at the daily diet of road deaths, murders, gun violence, banditry, economic and social distress and political diatribe. It comes as a relief to find articles on literature among the letters to the editor, even if there is disagreement and heated argument about the relative worth of the authors of our Caribbean literary heritage. We are not, thank goodness, defined merely by what we fear or hate or complain or fight about. The fact that the Stabroek News welcomes such conversation is surely one of the reasons why it is a good newspaper.
Why should we want to talk about our literature ? Life is a far more pressing concern. We know that Guyana has produced its share of fine international writers and artists among the great Caribbean names we all recognize. But how familiar are we with their work ? And how does their work touch our own lives?
The answer to those questions prompts another question : how much time, respect and concern do we give to this aspect of our cultural heritage ? The answer, I suspect, is ‘not much’. A society unaware of or complacent about its literary heritage is only partly conscious of itself. This, inevitably, means that there will be too little meaningful dialogue.
Public ‘debate’ on our literature ( especially the work of globally acclaimed writers like Naipaul and Walcott ) can therefore be very valuable. Unfortunately the debate often centres on a difference of opinion as to which is the ‘better’ or more ‘positive’ writer; the one with whose work we feel more comfortable. One view is that we should try to look beyond the writer’s personal and ideological biases and concern ourselves, objectively, with the literary quality of the work. The opposing view is that no work can be judged without reference to the society out of which it came and the writer’s attitude to that society. In this we are all subjective. It is a human condition that would be a mistake to ignore. But a great writer’s work also has a life of its own, regardless of its author’s predilections or prejudices. This is what makes the work great. We have to keep both these perspectives in focus when we look at any great or important work of art.
Of course there are dangers in any public discourse on the Arts, partly because the audience for this kind of exercise is small and often either unfamiliar with the works in question or too intent on presenting their own critical viewpoint at the expense of open, unbiased exchange. We are at liberty to dislike Naipaul’s gloomy, cynical attitude towards his Caribbean roots. We may even subscribe to Walcott’s half-humorous reference to him as ‘VS Nightfall’. But we cannot dismiss his work and what has been called his ‘accuracy of phlegm’. Similarly we might agree with the reviewer who finds Walcott’s poetic language often too lush, esoteric and overblown (‘he never met a metaphor he didn’t like’) but we ignore his work at the risk of great personal loss. If one writer seems to represent the negative pole of the society and another its positive pole, we need to remember that all truly self-aware societies are wired to both, and it is this conjunction that makes the creative spark jump.
Great writers, like other great artists, do not always measure up to the stature of their work. They are gifted human beings who act as conduits for the work itself. It is the work that defines them, not the other way around. In European literature Chaucer, Shakespeare, Dante, Milton, Goethe, Proust and WB Yeats were great artists whose personal lives did not reflect the quality or power of their work. It would be too much to ask. We must be glad of the work and not seek to revere, dismiss or ignore the personality behind it. As DH Lawrence once remarked: ‘trust the tale, not the teller’.
Derek Walcott, speaking about his own experience of the critics’ excited approval of his stylistic ‘originality’, put his finger on the heart of the dilemma of the artist’s personality versus the inherent ‘truth’ or power of his work.
“When finally the critics got very exhausted by seeing all the influences [in my work], they started to say, well, he has a great original voice, which I don’t. It’s everybody’s voice that makes that one song.” (Walcott in a 1991 interview with Richard E. Smith )
The Arts of the Caribbean are an important part of our cultural patrimony: one song, ‘everybody’s voice’. They belong to us all. Let us champion and also criticize the work, not the writer. But first, we must come to the work with respect and, if possible, an open mind. That is where understanding may emerge, and that should be the ultimate object of all critical discussion.
Yours faithfully,
Michael Gilkes