Jaipur Literature Festival

Wednesday, January 26, 2011 Goto comments Leave a comment Blog India, Jaipur Literature Festival, storytelling, Traditional Storytelling

Storyteller at Jaipur Literature Festival

So we only made it to three days but that was enough. The literature festival in Jaipur was a mind-opening, thought-provoking, inspiring feast for any budding young writer/ storyteller/ intellectual. The menu was diverse and extravagant and many of the dishes so rich it was impossible to digest them all. There was so much to choose from that no one person would be served up the same program.

At a literary festival of course everything relates to storytelling, so in some ways I couldn’t go wrong. But where possible I picked out the sessions I thought would most relate to my art, after that I chose just whatever took my fancy – from Philosophy to Sex in the City.

I’m no critic or journalist, but I’ve done my best to sum up what I tasted and what I took away. The highlights are the Traditional Storytelling and the surprise Bhutan storytelling. Enjoy!

Day 1 – The Mahabharat and Travel Writing

We arrived at 12 and saw Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni – One Amazing Thing, her newest novel. Divakaruni was born in Calcutta but now lives in America and has written many books, including Palace of Illusions – which tells the Mahabharat from the point of view of the women. One Amazing Thing takes place in the Indian visa office in America during an earthquake. Nine strangers are thrown together, not knowing if they will live or die and to get through the ordeal they each tell one story from their lives, one amazing story. Divakaruni, with a gleeful twinkle in her eye asked the audience “which story would you tell?” And then she read from the book – her turns of phrase were magnificent – “the father was like a limp noodle in his daughter’s hand,” was one of my favourites. Her writing was so beautiful I could have listened for hours and her book the Palace of Illusions spiked my interest. I’ve been wanting a way into the Mahabharata for a while now and this seemed like a good way. So I bought it, and I have to say it’s fantastic! All in all a wonderfully inspiring session.

Next was Rory Stewart “On Afghanistan” – wow, what a speaker. Newly a Tory politician but also a diplomat, a travel writer, a Harvard professor – this man is intelligent, speaks brilliantly and obviously knows what he’s talking about. He made some interesting political points, but didn’t really talk much about books!

After lunch was “On The Road” – five travel writers read from their books. The two that stood out for me were Rory Stewart and his 19 month walk in “The Places in Between” and William Dalrymple reading from “Nine Lives”. Overall the writings were variant and inspiring, the passages they chose to read out all held a surprisingly similar revelation, the kind that comes from opening your mind and exploring a different part of the world, perhaps this is what travel writing (or even just travelling) is all about. Again Stewart spoke brilliantly and I was inspired to think about the kind of travel writing I could do… Katie Hickman described a moment in Mexico when she witnessed the migration of the monarch butterflies. Fiennes read from his book about Migration of Cranes in America. Sattin read from his book A Winter On the Nile – (more on this later). And Palllavi Aiyar (the only non English writer on the panel) read from her book about being a tourist in China.
The real point here was that in travel writing you see the personality of the author, you read about real people and the real wonder of the world and there are as many ways to approach it as there are different people in the world – it gave me food for thought.

Last was Courtesans from East to West and this was very interesting, not so much because of the books, or that I learned anything new about Courtesans but because of the difference between the way the westerners spoke about the courtesans and the way the eastern film director (Muzaffar Ali) spoke about them. I am not sure if this was a cultural thing or if he was just not remotely interested in the subject, but he seemed unwilling to speak about the courtesans in any kind of detail. He was determined to talk about them as artists, but not as individuals, or as women that were professionals. It was as though he was only willing to look at them through a romanticised lens – perhaps this is because he was a film director! I wondered if perhaps the problems lay in the subject of sex? Was this not a subject the Indian middle classes were comfortable talking about in public? Or was it that this man really didn’t like thinking about the characters in his films as real people? At one point William asked him to tell us about the real woman the film was based on, his response was “she could be any woman.” So clearly he was not about to give us any info on the reality of particular courtesans from history. On the other hand there was Katie Hickman who delighted us with the details of real women who had lived in the 18th century Western society and gave us great snippets of their lives. William and Katie seemed to enjoy talking about the risque elements of the courtesan subject, whilst the film director???? sat and played with his microphone. It was an interesting talk to watch and I doubt I’ll ever know what was really going on, but in a conversation on courtesans from East to West, it was the West that did most of the talking.

Day 2 – Philosophy & Traditional Storytelling

First it was Roma Tearne Reading from ‘The Swimmer.’ She is a Sri Lankan immigrant to the UK who wrote about her parents pain and anger at the goings on in Sri Lanka. What was interesting to me was the way she said it was a carthartic exercise to release the anger of the past generations. She talked about the danger of this anger being carried through generations, for example, she said “there are people in Israel angry at the holocaust – but it didn’t happen to them, or even their parents, but their parents parents – and yet they hold onto that anger.”

For Tearne she felt that the action of writing about these things provided a release for her, but also – hopefully – those that read it. Many people in the audience attempted to pull her into a political discussion,  because she’s from Sri Lanka, but she was firm in stating that with this novel she didn’t take sides.

One lady questioned, “is it not the role of a writer to take sides – to make a stand.” But Tearne held her ground and it seemed to me that her stand is to use novel writing as a way of healing the anger, and I commend her and agree with her violence and anger only begets violence and anger.

Next was the Possibility of Laughter with Marina Lewycka and Zac O Yeah. Zac O Yeah was up first and said “I’m not really a funny person, everything just turns out weird when I open my mouth or start typing.” And this sentiment seemed to be the crux of the possibility of laughter – it wasn’t forced, it simply came out when they wrote.

Lewycka in fact said she hadn’t set out to write a funny book, but instead had set out to write a hard hitting book about a real issue – which had ended up winning an award for comic writing. After that she had thought she should write a comedic book and had won an award for best political book!

So it seemed to me that writing comedy was less about trying to be funny and more about allowing it to come out that way.

But I did make a few observations about what was funny in their writings. O Yeah would set up a poignant scene and then throw in a daft comment, ie. “It was the first time he’d had a women in his bathroom… he hoped he’d remembered to flush.”

His book Scandinavastan flips the idea of colonialism so it is the Indians that are the colonialists in a climate changed Sweden, so a lot of the comedy comes from the irony of this situation. Lewycka on the other hand found comedy in the juxtaposition of the inner thoughts of the characters compared to what they will actually say in what was an increasingly farcical situation.

O Yeah also mentioned the idiosyncrasies that any one who has travelled in India will understand, like the sign that reads “Wear helmet: head is not replaceable.” But he was quick to underline “the jokes are always on me – then people will feel sorry about me and buy the book.”

After this I had some thoughts and it appears to me that some of the best jokes are the ones that are suggested, let the audience make their own joke…

After lunch was “The Return of Philosophy” with AC Grayling, which was packed. Described as a Secular Sermon it was a wonderful hour of thought provoking rhetoric. There were many avenues touched on, but perhaps the most interesting points made were those that encouraged the audience to answer the basic question of philosophy, “what matters? What has meaning? What is the best way to live this life?” These are the questions we should be concerned with and Grayling suggested that in this world we have discovered many different forms of meaning, we are the “makers of our own meaning” and that is our task.

A sobering fact was given to us, we are only alive for 1000 months, a third of which are spent asleep, a third of which are spent in menial tasks, which only leaves say 300 months of your life in which to do anything. Grayling then suggested the best way to go about this is to read books and philosophies, to ask others what they think, to share what you think and note the response, to open your mind and then to evaluate all this information for yourself and in that way you will be able to make your own meaning.

The conversation then moved on to a more political nature. Grayling argued that freedom of expression and personal autonomy are the most important factors for individuals in society. He said that the first duty of the state is to protect our liberty but there is a problem these days in that the state will say their first duty is to protect our security at to the detriment of our liberty. Which was all very interesting, but I was more inspired by the first half of the lecture which spurred in me many questions but the one over-riding question I have is this – At what point do we stop thinking and start living?

Later that evening we had the highlight of the festival for me so  – Gharfuddin Mewati telling a section of a version of the Mahabharata from Pakistan. There were five people in total, Mewati doing the telling, his grandson was on stage – obviously training up to take over one day – there was a man to his left playing a drum with a string, a harmonium player and a tabla player.

I had been waiting for this for two days, I got there early and made sure I was in the front row (waiting two hours to ensure this) they came on and sat down and after quite a long introduction they began.

Of course I didn’t understand a word, but I understood the storytelling I was watching. He used strong hand gestures, a lot of repetition, he would come back to the same refrain over and over again, he would slip easily into song.

I have been taught that the Indian tradition of storytelling requires the storyteller to take up one position, sitting – crossed legged – kneeling or standing.  You are only ever one of these types and that is the position in which you always tell. Mewati was a sitting teller, he sat crossed legged all the way through, although his grandson was kneeling, so perhaps he will be a kneeling teller.

Mewati used direct speech and his tone and manner only changed a little. He clearly made the audience (who understood his language) laugh and there were people joining in.

They would punctuate points with a drum crash and he controlled all the music with hand gestures. I wondered was he commenting on the audience? Who quite frankly were a little rude, getting up and leaving and playing with their phones.

The man to his left seemed to be very into it and I thought perhaps he would maybe get involved at other times in the telling. They used a mixture of talking and song which they moved fluidly in and out of throughout.

It was exactly as I expected and I was thrilled to be there, he wasn’t as expressive as I would have hoped and I did feel that sitting was somewhat constricting to the movement – but perhaps he made up for this with poetry (I wouldn’t know). The main disappointment for me was he had a script! He looked at it quite often, although he was definitely not reading.

So perhaps this art, even in India, of traditional oral epic singing, is so rarely needed now that the professionals aren’t given enough practise and therefore need a prompt to remember what they’re doing?

Still I loved it and I got lots of video for you to make up your own mind. Enjoy.

Day 3 – Sex, Travel and an unexpected surprise

We arrived slightly late for Veda: Ends of Knowledge, so it had already started, it was packed and we had to sit under the baking hot sun on the grass outside the tent. Still we could hear. I apologise my knowledge of the Vedic texts is practically non-existant, but I was interested nevertheless and took what I could from it. Roberto Calosso, who has written many books on mythology and the Vedas, gave an esoteric lecture which I struggled to follow. But he gave me some wonderful quotes and thoughts on myth and storytelling which I’d like to share. He spoke about the rising interest in what scientists call “consciousness” and the number of neurologists studying it, saying that – if they read them – “Neurologists would be compelled to realise the Vedic texts deal with what they are working on everyday.” Underpinning what draws me (and I’m sure many people) to ancient texts, the age old truths and wisdom within them. He articulated that for life “Meaning comes through stories and gestures.” The stories first that lead to the gestures, or actions, of our lives. On the subject of myth he said perhaps one of my favourite quotes of the day, “These stories never happened, but they always are.” And went on to say that “you cannot invent myths.” that “a powerful axe has cut myths.” And that the need for myth exists but there is no such thing as the modern myth. As a storyteller these words resonated with me, but I found myself disagreeing with his last statement: (we) “realise humbly that we are lost – we have no connection with these stories if not for solitary study.” Although I respect and admire him for his academic studies, I cannot believe that myths should be confined to the darkened lofts of intellectual reading. It is, I believe, the task of us storytellers to find a way to feed that “need” of which he talked in a community or populist setting. After all, I wonder, what is the use of these myths if they are not shared?

Next we had A Winter On The Nile – by Anthony Sattin, in conversation with William Dalrymple himself no less – who did comment briefly on the bad press he’d received but only to laugh it off and then perhaps to make them both feel more comfortable they began with an “in joke” – how many times could Anthony Sattin mention his wife in his session? They shared the joke with us and perhaps most people felt part of it, but I couldn’t help but feel that the criticism that Mr Dalrymple had received from journalists “of bringing British colonialism into Indian Literature” hung in the air at every mention of the afore said wife and every self appreciative laugh.
Still the book roused my interest enough not to dwell too long on this. It’s the story of Florence Nightingale and Gustav Flaubert who one year, before either “became the people we know” said Sattin journeyed through Egypt. This possibly resonated so very much with me because it realises so much of what I hope this year for me to be. They were both 29 at the time, as I am. They both were in situations where they were unhappy, or not quite fulfilling what they knew they could do. Nightingale had been searching for years to find a place in life, putting off getting married to a man she loved to the point where that man gave up and left her – in this heartbreak she went on the trip. Flaubert had just finished a work he’d hoped would be his big break only to be told by his friends “to throw it on the fire and never mention it again.” With this bitter disappointment he journeyed to Egypt. Although nothing so dramatic drove me to India, I have for years been feeling out of sorts, longing to make my life one of worth and significance but not knowing how to do it. For Nightingale and Flaubert their winter on the Nile changed them irrevocably and gave them the direction that would lead to their success. I found this inspiring, hoping against hope, that my year in Asia could have a similar effect on me. Again I was touched by the individuality of travel experiences, these two people followed the same route – never (evidence suggests) meeting – experiencing the journey in hugely different ways, Nightingale had a very spiritual journey, writing in her private diary that “God called me to his service.” Flaubert on the other hand experienced Egypt sensually, practically sleeping his way around the country. But both came back changed and both went on to become great figures in history. For me this was another example of an inspiring story that I took away from the Jaipur Literature Festival.

After lunch a surprising treat, which I hadn’t expected at all. Sonam Kinga and Nam Le, from Bhutan and Australia/ Vietnam respectively spoke about their work. And completely unexpected it turned out that Sonam is a translator and upholder of the oral tradition in Bhutan. He spoke about how Bhutan now teaches in English and he translates the oral stories into English in order to keep the young of his country interested. And then he recited a story! I’m afraid I missed the very beginning, but he explains in English first what is happening and then recites in his native tongue. It is a traditianal Bhutan children’s story called – A Baby and The Egg-Like Aunt Moon. Enjoy!

A real defender of the oral traditions Sonam ended by saying “In this global society the tendency is to lose ones own tradition  so these should be kept. The way they have gone about it is to record them using audio-visual equipment.

Last up was Candice Bushnell “Sex In The City”  – although I missed a large part of this due to losing my camera, I must have done something to please the Gods because as the girl pointed out to me “many people lose things, but this is the only thing handed in.”

Finally camera in hand I went back to hear Candace talk to an Indian audience about Sex In The City. To be honest, I was disappointed. Bushnell spoke in a rather wearied way about the column, book, TV series and now two films for which she is famous. It’s understandable though, ss she pointed out she is now 52 and she wrote that column in her 30s, she’s been talking about it for twenty years. She must be used to the same old questions and she said as much. She made some interesting points about how SiC came out of seventies feminism, the sexual revolution and the position, for the first time, of a large proportion of women in the 80s having good careers providing them with financial and sexual freedom. But it’s a different time now. For me, approaching 30, having lived and worked in London, I’m familiar with the world she wrote about, except we’re 20 years on and things have changed (partly due to her book.) But I was interested to see how an Indian audience would relate, India is after all a totally different ball game altogether, women here are only just starting to reach out to that world we western women are accustomed to. Here the women still giggle nervously talking about sex, as Ira Trivedi said “most girls here are still virgins when they get married,” before asking Bushnell what message she thinks SiC gives to young Indian women. But Bushnell just sighed and replied with the standard non-committal response of a pro “I write about life as I see it. SiC is the anthropological survey of a certain person at a certain time.” She wasn’t trying to convey any kind of message, she says. Although she’s quick to add there is a big difference between the TV show (which loved to add more sex and gratuity) and her column/ book.  It was difficult to gage the audience reaction, they didn’t seem particularly enamoured with her, many people leaving their seats as the session went on – most of these I noted were men. And the questions from the audience tended to focus on getting some kind of support from Bushnell or answer on how to get a man. Bushnell’s response to this was more like that of the wizened crone, “just be yourself” she said.

Personally I thought she spoke a lot of sense, although she refused to give the audience what they probably wanted. The most interesting parts of her talk, for me, were the parts where she talked about success and how she got there. “I decided to work my way out of it” she said after describing how she was so poor before starting her column she couldn’t afford a bed and was sleeping on a bit of foam. She said, “people who are successful are willing to go into the future not knowing what’s going to happen to you and it makes you stronger.” The Thame Gazette described me as “ambitious” recently and I would say that’s true as such, and for any woman out there equally craving success I’ll leave you with these words of wisdom from a truly successful lady of our time: “You have to find that core (within) and when you do you’re already successful.”

All in all it was a great way to spend three days and my mind is still spinning with everything I’ve taken in. I’m sure it will take me months before I really digest it all. Having looked ahead to what they’ve got planned for next year I’ll plant the seed – if you can go, it’s really quite worthwhile.

http://jaipurliteraturefestival.org/