Correspondence on the Guyana Prize for Literature
Arts on Sunday
by Al Creighton
Stabroek News
November 24, 2002

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In our edition of November 10 [ please note: link provided by LOSP web site ], we carried a note from the Arts Editor responding to a letter sent to this newspaper by Mr Rakesh Rampertab concerning the Guyana Prize for Literature. Unfortunately, due to an oversight, Mr Rampertab's letter was not published along with Mr Creighton's comment. Mr Rampertab has since written the newspaper pointing out the omission, and adding some comments about Mr Creighton's note. Today we print all three pieces - Mr Rampertab's original letter, the note by the Arts Editor (to which he has made minor amendments) and Mr Rampertab's second item of correspondence.

Mr Rampertab's first letter
Dear Editor,

In a recent column for Kaieteur News (6.9.02), Mr Frederick Kissoon suggested that the prize money for the Guyana Prize for Literature be used for an "essential" service (eg to fence the Lamaha Canal which leads to the city's water reservoir), because it is often won by "writers who don't live here."

While I agree that the canal ought to be protected, I find his suggestion immature and ridiculous. The local writer rarely wins be-cause his work is characterized by mediocrity. The foreign-based Guyanese writer wins more often because his work, though not of superlative quality, is good enough to beat the locals. If the prize is given, as it ought to be, based on the quality of a work, then the only alternative for the local writer is to improve the quality of his/her writing.

I am still skeptical about the idea (posed by one writer), that the awarding of the prize is governed by a so-called "absentee literocracy." Still, this should not be a problem, since all judges ought to be familiar with our regional literature; thus, if a local writer produces a good 'local' work, it would be recognized as such. Further, overseas residence does not mean one lacks the competence to judge works produced locally. A good work of literature is recognizable anywhere. When India's Rabindranath Tagore completed his monumental Gitanjali, he passed the manuscript to the Irish poet, William B. Yeats, who proceeded to write the epic poem's Introduction.

Of course, corruption is always possible, especially in Guyana. If a writer believes his work has been misjudged, that writer ought to raise the issue with the prize committee. If no rule exists which allows for redress, one should be implemented immediately, allowing for a committee consisting of, at least, the panel of judges (or those that reside locally), local writers, the Minister of Culture, and UG professors to review the claim. All biased verdicts should be overturned, and the judge(s) should be barred from entering future competitions - either as judges or candidates.

Despite my confidence in local writers, it is recognizable that literature in Guyana has always suffered serious setbacks, especially an uninterested public. Then there is a lack of seriousness. Let me illustrate: some time in 2000, Mr Al Creighton, writing briefly on Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses, erred significantly in basic facts about the book's two protagonists, such as their religious background.

It is inadvisable to believe that a West Indian (or Guyanese) sensibility ought to be the rule by which our literature is to be reviewed. Writers should not become entrenched in the view that the local is better than the foreigner (Guyanese), at reviewing Guyanese literature. It would not be surprising to me if the local writer believed himself to be the unofficial heir to the prize. But, when he loses, what ought he to do? First, he must find redemption, however outdated the state of our literary scene. He must reinvent his writer's self through writing, in an unprecedented production of serious, complex works. He must live literature. This is the only alternative to escaping this infantile tradition in which he is rooted, and from which he has been given little with which to create. The more he writes, the more he must liberate himself, though not totally from our wretched literary culture which is still to produce a world-recognized literary figure.

He must look beyond trivial expatriate writers like Harris, who merely disappeared into the obscure corners of English literature; the writer ought to go beyond Martin Carter (our best poet whose best work is some 40 years old), and must avoid repetition common among his immature political leaders and reckless countrymen, none of whom can rise above quoting that one wearied line of Carter: "All are involved... all are consumed."

The writer has always been an ostracized figure among us - ignored and ridiculed. In all the talk about civil society (whatever that means in Guyana) assisting the politicians, nowhere is the word writer (or truth) to be found. The people have abandoned him, having been seduced into believing that two political parties are all they need to have a prosperous future.

Before he can win prizes, he must reestablish his role as a member of the society; he alone must determine which direction our literary interpretation is to assume. It is not the job of the political scientists who still reside in the past (as was evident during the 'Nobel' discussions on Naipaul, in which aspects of the novel such as character development and plot outline never surfaced). His is the responsibility to ensure that literary criticism in Guyana does not become a wrestling match over the mundane topic of prejudice as he tries, like Whitman, "to arrive at the meanings of poems." Neither should he complain about books written by "dead white men." Let him be willing to imitate great writers - copy their techniques until he arrives at his own. He cannot subscribe to the "division of man" (Walcott), but must replace his tendency to debate whether dialects/Creole or Standard English is to be used, with the cultivation of his writer's instincts. When he becomes an accomplished writer, it will come naturally, for he would reconize what his charaters and scenes demand.

Writing is an unforgiving task that leaves no room for small mercies, no place for bribery as in politics or law. While we have no prestigious literary magazines or grants, he must begin to reshape his world by using what is available. Let him study the various art types and artists' styles - music, cinema, art, dance and photography, from Goya to Lata Mangeshkar to Miles Davis to Satyajit Ray to A J Seymour to Bernadette Persaud. All art forms feed off each other, as do artists. The Raj Kapoor bum character we meet in the movie Shree 420, originated in Charlie Chaplin's famed screen figure, the Little Tramp.

Until he is celebrated overseas in a market that is welcoming now to 'world' literature, the local writer can pose no threat to anyone anywhere. He may begin his rebirth by reading Soyinka's The Interpreters (novel), William Blake's Marginalia and the following essays: TS Eliot's Tradition and the Individual Talent and Walcott's What the Twilight Said: An Overture. And in time, when he has become properly imposed on our imagination, making reading more than an event of turning newspaper pages, and possibly, rescuing his countrymen from the suicide claws of their leaders, the local writer will get his Prize - and much more. If he is up for the challenge, let him remember part of the epitaph China's greatest leftist writer, Lu Hsun, wrote for himself; "The role of the writer is to criticize... I have only a pen and it is not for sale."

Arts Editor's note
The decision to expend scarce resources on this aspect of Guyanese literature was a conscious one made by the then President, Desmond Hoyte, in 1987, significantly, at a time when the country was suffering particularly severe foreign exchange difficulties. When the PPP/C took office in 1992, agreement to continue the expenditure was immediate, and government support for the Prize has been consistent. A nation cannot be built if attention is paid only to its material needs. There is an equally pressing need at least for literacy, without which the best physical infrastructure would soon collapse. That is why there is genuine national concern for Guyana's poor performance in CXC English Language and Literature. Even at a very basic level, it is impossible to maintain any standard of national literacy without the input from good literature.

The argument that funding should be withdrawn from the Prize because it is often won by "writers who don't live here" is short-sighted and a false dilemma. Although more local writers have won, or have emerged from the Prize, than is generally recognized, the dominance of their overseas-based colleagues is indeed a serious concern. But, as Mr Rampertab has quite correctly pointed out, the reasons for the local writers' limited success need to be far more carefully analysed than many critics of the Prize have been doing so far.

One popular notion is the influence of the supposed "absentee literocracy," whose control leads to unfair adjudication. Under this theory, the judges are accused of favouritism towards foreign-based writers because of an innate cultural bias and/or an inability to judge Guyanese work. Two problems arise from this. It imposes an unfair assumption that all judges are going to be either dishonest or incompetent, and it expresses a basic misunderstanding of literature. Despite the occasional necessity for an understanding of a particular ethos or tradition, good works of literature, whether Guyanese or otherwise, are usually read and understood by international audiences. There would be something seriously wrong with Guyanese literature if only Guyanese living in Guyana can read it.

We agree with Mr Rampertab's observation that the reasons why local writers have not won more prizes are to be found in the fact that the winning books by their overseas colleagues might have been better. No one can doubt that there is a need for improvement in the quality of much of the local writing. Some of the limitations facing writers may be identified. Guyana's infrastructure and resources are limited, publishing houses are virtually non-existent, there is no professional editing as is available in other countries, there is limited exposure, unavailability of several books, insufficient literature in schools, poor habits and almost no culture of reading, very few workshops and almost no training. The writers living abroad, especially those in the developed countries, have all these facilities available to them, more so if they are published writers. It should not be surprising that they have produced most of the better books.

It is not true, however, as Mr Rampertab writes, that their work is "not of superlative quality." Nor is it accurate to say that Guyana's "wretched literary culture... is still to produce a world-recognized literary figure." Pauline Melville, Fred D'Aguiar and David Dabydeen, who have won both major British and international prizes, as well as the Guyana Prize, are three names that immediately come to mind. They have enviable international reputations and are among the highly recognized authors in Britain. Dabydeen, in particular, is one of the best known names there. But the foremost of them all is Wilson Harris, widely acclaimed as among the most strikingly original of contemporary novelists. The writer who Mr Rampertab says "merely disappeared into the obscure corners of British literature," actually rose to prominence there, as well as in Europe and North America, and has been mentioned as being a candidate for the Nobel Prize. Obscurity is not made of such stern stuff.

Mr Rampertab also mentions the comments in the local press about V S Naipaul and a passing remark by Al Creighton in the year 2000 about Salman Rushdie. Both merit responses which will have to be addressed on another occasion.

Mr Rampertab's second letter

Dear Editor,

By chance, I came across your Arts on Sunday section (SN, 10.11.02), written by Mr Al Creighton, which dealt with the Guyana Prize for Literature.

I want to make it clear that I did not suggest in any way, that the Prize money should be pulled. This is the impression that one may possibly get when reading the following paragraph from Mr Creighton: "The argument that funding should be withdrawn from the Prize because it is often won by 'writers who don't live here' is short-sighted and a false dilemma. Although more local writers have won, or have emerged from the Prize, than is generally recognized, the dominance of their overseas-based colleagues is indeed a serious concern. But, as Mr Rampertab has quite correctly pointed out, the reasons for the local writers' limited success needs to be far more carefully analysed than many critics of the Prize have been doing so far."

It is Mr Frederick Kissoon who made the ridiculous suggestion of pulling currency. Pertaining to the rest of Mr Creighton's piece, objecting to my views that Wilson Harris is a "trivial" writer, and that Guyana is yet to produce a truly world-recognized literary figure, these views remain as stated. Pauline Melville, Fred D'Aguiar, and David Dabydeen, contrary to what the critic suggested, are not world-recognized, first-rate writers. Overt patriotism often leads to deceit. There is no shame in stating that our best is not good enough. But more of this for another day.

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