The Western Christian calendar draws to its close of 2012...additionally, my list of female authors having read at the Edinburgh Book Festival in August 2011 is coming to its end. I had a wonderful time introducing the various authors to you and I desperately hope that you had a good read. The more do I hope that you were inspired to read on and read the work of the various authors yourself!!!
I am closing the circle with poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy having the final say for this year. She already had her say in October 2011 as the first author to be mentioned on my new blog. Turn to the page for more information on this outstanding poet.
BUT before Carol takes the stage...remember: this blog will continue!
It only will be a different story with different (female) authors - as interesting as before and worth checking it monthly.
I really look forward to welcoming you back in January 2013 with another Quote/Poem of the Month!
Yours,
Stefanie
Poet of the Month - December 2012
The Bee Carol
Silently on Christmas Eve,
the turn of midnight's key;
all the garden locked in ice -
a silver frieze -
except the winter cluster of the bees.
Flightless now and shivering,
around their Queen they cling;
every bee a gift of heat;
she will not freeze
within the winter cluster of the bees.
a single golden jar;
let me taste the sweetness there,
but honey leave
to feed the winter cluster of the bees.
Come with me on Christmas Eve
to see the silent hive -
trembling stars cloistered above -
and then believe,
bless the winter cluster of the bees.
From The Bees by Carol Ann Duffy (2011)
Poem of the Month - November 2012
Nest
Sunrise walk over the hill,
grass wet with morning,
August pavement steaming sun,
mud like black tea, thick murmur
of traffic beyond the trees. You
want to stall the day, pause the rush
to the streetcar, you sit on a worn bench
hover in grey humidity. At your feet
a nest of needles and twigs, a split of bark
fanned like a sparrow's wing. You imagine
placing it in your briefcase among folders
and files you never got to, a bruised pear
pressed against tupperwared salad
that you will likely trash for a slice
of pizza at noon, pen and newspaper -
and today's dreadful headline:
the child dismembered
and scattered across the city.
You lean forward,
pick it up, hold it in the palm
of your hand - warmed by sun,
no bark, no fallen limb of tree,
soft brown feathers, pinched blue
skin and a tiny smooth-bone shoulder.
And the nest, the earth-and-twig hollow
carved by grief, the bell-shaped void
where the rest of the bird went missing.
From Narcissus Unfolding by Jim Nason (2011)
Sunrise walk over the hill,
grass wet with morning,
August pavement steaming sun,
mud like black tea, thick murmur
of traffic beyond the trees. You
want to stall the day, pause the rush
to the streetcar, you sit on a worn bench
hover in grey humidity. At your feet
a nest of needles and twigs, a split of bark
fanned like a sparrow's wing. You imagine
placing it in your briefcase among folders
and files you never got to, a bruised pear
pressed against tupperwared salad
that you will likely trash for a slice
of pizza at noon, pen and newspaper -
and today's dreadful headline:
the child dismembered
and scattered across the city.
You lean forward,
pick it up, hold it in the palm
of your hand - warmed by sun,
no bark, no fallen limb of tree,
soft brown feathers, pinched blue
skin and a tiny smooth-bone shoulder.
And the nest, the earth-and-twig hollow
carved by grief, the bell-shaped void
where the rest of the bird went missing.
From Narcissus Unfolding by Jim Nason (2011)
Jim Nason *1957
The exception proves the rule...
Though the aim of this blog is to introduce lesser known female authors I couldn't possibly leave Jim Nason, another Canadian poet, behind. Having introduced Maureen Hynes and Ruth Roach Pierson, I decided that he deserves to be presented on this blog and made known to a wider audience. Additionally, all three are very close as Maureen wrote a critical praise for the back cover of his latest collection Narcissus Unfolding: "[...] Nason's clear-eyed gaze is searing, his perceptions of the natural world and the human startling. His natural musicality combines with the honesty of his poems to bring us closer to our wishes, failings, emotional truths." (Frontenac House Ltd., 2011). Honesty and truth recur in various of Jim's interviews: "I am most influenced by social activists like Allen Ginsberg and Nikky Finney and I want to be the kind of poet who is brave enough to tell the truth, no matter what." (JN on BCP, 1/2012) and furthermore: "I try to tell the truth about what I see and know about the world. I happen to know a fair amount from my personal life experiences but also from my work in social services." (JN on Xtra!, 2/2012). Being a social worker, Jim can reap from his daily observations, while transforming it into an art form which gives him the opportunity to express his inner wisdom: life, its smells, its noises, its limits.
Born in Montreal, Canada, Jim had a better start as a poet than Maureen (see October, 2012): The poem he wrote as an undergraduate won a prize! And in the meantime he has published The Housekeeping Journals (2007), a novel, and The Girl on the Escalator (2011), a short story collection, as well as three books of poetry: If Lips Were as Red (1991?), The Fist of Remembering (2006), and Narcissus Unfolding (2011), the second being his account of his partner's death from cancer. He has been a finalist for the CBC Literary Award in both poetry and fiction categories and been published in numerous literary journals and anthologies across North America. His success isn't so surprising knowing his credo: "Be the best poet you can be every time!" Working fulltime as a social worker in Toronto, he gets up early in the morning to write. Jim: "I cherish the opportunity to sit with language and appreciate what is revealed through the disciple of the poetic process.[...] The best part of writing for me, by far, is the sense of surprise I get when I have truly surrendered to the process, and the words take me to a place I had no idea existed." (JN on BCP) Like a painter, Jim pays close attention to the things around him. Combined with his discipline, he surely deserves Maureen's praise. Take your time to listen to Jim reading himself from his latest book of poems:
Though the aim of this blog is to introduce lesser known female authors I couldn't possibly leave Jim Nason, another Canadian poet, behind. Having introduced Maureen Hynes and Ruth Roach Pierson, I decided that he deserves to be presented on this blog and made known to a wider audience. Additionally, all three are very close as Maureen wrote a critical praise for the back cover of his latest collection Narcissus Unfolding: "[...] Nason's clear-eyed gaze is searing, his perceptions of the natural world and the human startling. His natural musicality combines with the honesty of his poems to bring us closer to our wishes, failings, emotional truths." (Frontenac House Ltd., 2011). Honesty and truth recur in various of Jim's interviews: "I am most influenced by social activists like Allen Ginsberg and Nikky Finney and I want to be the kind of poet who is brave enough to tell the truth, no matter what." (JN on BCP, 1/2012) and furthermore: "I try to tell the truth about what I see and know about the world. I happen to know a fair amount from my personal life experiences but also from my work in social services." (JN on Xtra!, 2/2012). Being a social worker, Jim can reap from his daily observations, while transforming it into an art form which gives him the opportunity to express his inner wisdom: life, its smells, its noises, its limits.
Born in Montreal, Canada, Jim had a better start as a poet than Maureen (see October, 2012): The poem he wrote as an undergraduate won a prize! And in the meantime he has published The Housekeeping Journals (2007), a novel, and The Girl on the Escalator (2011), a short story collection, as well as three books of poetry: If Lips Were as Red (1991?), The Fist of Remembering (2006), and Narcissus Unfolding (2011), the second being his account of his partner's death from cancer. He has been a finalist for the CBC Literary Award in both poetry and fiction categories and been published in numerous literary journals and anthologies across North America. His success isn't so surprising knowing his credo: "Be the best poet you can be every time!" Working fulltime as a social worker in Toronto, he gets up early in the morning to write. Jim: "I cherish the opportunity to sit with language and appreciate what is revealed through the disciple of the poetic process.[...] The best part of writing for me, by far, is the sense of surprise I get when I have truly surrendered to the process, and the words take me to a place I had no idea existed." (JN on BCP) Like a painter, Jim pays close attention to the things around him. Combined with his discipline, he surely deserves Maureen's praise. Take your time to listen to Jim reading himself from his latest book of poems:
P.S.: Did I succeed in getting you curious about the currenct Canadian poetry community? Go ahead and subscribe to the website of CV2:The Canadian Journal of Poetry and Critical Writing. Enjoy and spread the word!
Poem of the Month - October 2012
Azulejos: Ceramic Tiles
This is the geometry we want
to make of our lives: an intertwining
pattern that knots its way across the tiles,
its intricate spread, how your eye
traces the curves and angles along
walls and floors and ceilings full
of the complexity of enduring,
deep ochre and rose and indigo.
Palm-sized tiles, Handprints.
What is ground, what is figure,
we can't be sure; under a steady gaze,
each reverses into the other. How we travel together,
and apart; towards each other and into two
infinitely different
horizons.
Horizons
infinitely different
and apart, towards each other and into two,
each reverses into the other. How we travel together,
we can't be sure. Under a steady gaze,
what is ground, what is figure?
Palm-sized tiles. Handprints,
deep ochre and rose and indigo.
The complexity of enduring.
Walls and floors and ceilings
trace the curves and angles along
an intricate spread, how your eye
patterns the knots across the tiles.
To make of our lives: an intertwining -
this is the geometry we want.
From MARROW, WILLOW by Maureen Hynes (2011)
This is the geometry we want
to make of our lives: an intertwining
pattern that knots its way across the tiles,
its intricate spread, how your eye
traces the curves and angles along
walls and floors and ceilings full
of the complexity of enduring,
deep ochre and rose and indigo.
Palm-sized tiles, Handprints.
What is ground, what is figure,
we can't be sure; under a steady gaze,
each reverses into the other. How we travel together,
and apart; towards each other and into two
infinitely different
horizons.
Horizons
infinitely different
and apart, towards each other and into two,
each reverses into the other. How we travel together,
we can't be sure. Under a steady gaze,
what is ground, what is figure?
Palm-sized tiles. Handprints,
deep ochre and rose and indigo.
The complexity of enduring.
Walls and floors and ceilings
trace the curves and angles along
an intricate spread, how your eye
patterns the knots across the tiles.
To make of our lives: an intertwining -
this is the geometry we want.
From MARROW, WILLOW by Maureen Hynes (2011)
Maureen Hynes *!
Marrow, Willow (2011) is already Maureen's third collection of poems. Her first book Rough Skin (1996) won the League of Canadian Poets' Gerald Lampert Award for Best Book of Poetry and together with her second book Harm's Way (2001), she was shortlisted for the CBC Literary Awards and appeared in various literary journals across Canada (just to mention some awards and honours...). She has been Writer-in-Residence at the University of Prince Edward Island and a judge herself to several poetry contests and awards. And she isn't limited to a Canadian audience: she also won one of Britain's major Poetry Awards, The Petra Kenney Poetry Award, and has given various workshops and readings abroad. Astonishingly, given the fact, as she recalls in the same interview that, when one of her poems were rejected by a campus journal during her undergraduate years, her resolution was: '"That's it, I'm not a poet."'
Not so astonishingly, given her resolution, she first turned to writing fiction when she recovered her creativity later on. Her first published work Letters from China (1981) had been a memoir/travel book of her time as an ESL/EFL teacher in China. Furthermore, she had various stories and (academic) articles published, but: still no poems. Surprisingly, Maureen turned back to poetry in times of trouble and obstacles: writing poetry can feel "like [...] climbing onto a stable and supportive raft in a troubled sea." (MH on BCP). A beautiful explanation that writing poetry means more to Maureen Hynes than shaping beautifully rhyming images and it wouldn't be her if she wrote from a limited personal introspection. In combination with her work as Poetry Editor for the national labour magazine Our Times and having been engaged with various social programmes, she is able to see the big picture and to weave the personal with the political and produce "some magical poems" as M. Travis Lane (PoetryReview, 2011) concludes. Probably, it is her core approach to writing poetry which explains her successfully woven work of art and I would like to end her introduction with another citation and a video of Maureen reading:
"The ability to create art out of language, to shape it, with form, into not just something that's beautiful, but something that also resonates with us emotionally and is taken into the core of our beings and remembered - that is something that feels urgent and compelling to me." (MH on BCP )
*CBP = BlackCoffeePoet: take time to check his blog - he has a very interesting approach to poetry as well.
Poem of the Month - September 2012
"Coming Full Circle" from Contrary by Ruth Roach Pierson
(live at Summerhall during the EdinburghFringeFestival, August 2011,
with humble thanks to Fuji Rademaker for fitting the video)
(live at Summerhall during the EdinburghFringeFestival, August 2011,
with humble thanks to Fuji Rademaker for fitting the video)
Ruth Roach Pierson *1938
Some time has passed since the last poem on this blog. I've always wanted to present Ruth reading live this one poem but I had filmed several poems then and not being a media expert I hesitated. Finally, a very fine friend cut and modified the video and I am finally able to present Ruth, live on stage.
Ruth was with a group of Canadian poets in Scotland and we met by chance at the EdBookFest. She presented me a copy of her latest publication and I was immediately struck by the one poem. Coincidently, it reminded me of a personal episode and I grew curious.
Ruth Roach Pierson actually started late in her life writing and publishing poems. She had been busy teaching as professor at the OISE at the University of Toronto. Though Ruth was born and raised in Seattle, USA, read history at the University of Washington and obtained her PhD at Yale University, she immigrated to Canada with her first fulltime academic position. Until 2001 she taught women's history and feminist studies, offering one of the first women's history courses in Canada. Her teaching also brought her back to Germany where she had lived for a year as an exchange student in 1955/56. In 1997/98 she held a Guest Professorship in Gender Studies at the Ruhruniversität Bochum. She was also vice president to the International Federation for Research in Women's History and published numerous acclaimed academic works and journals.
Poetry wasn't really on her list but the seed has already been planted during her time as an M.A. student at the University of Washington where students were to take one 'elective': Ruth's choice fell on Theodore Roethke's course on Reading Poetry. She was very much impressed then and honoured him belated with a poem in her latest publication ("The Best God-damned Poet in the USA"). But only in 1993 did Ruth start to write poems 'officially' by enrolling in a poetry writing course. It was after her retirement from academe that she also started publishing her work of poetry: in 2002 her first book Where No Window Was and in 2007 Aide-Mémoire which was a finalist for the Governor General's Award in 2008. And lately, her collection Contrary in 2011. In the meantime her praised and prized poems were and are published extensively in anthologies and journals.
Her style is mainly realistic, reflecting on events and incidents, playing with words and rhythm not so much images and not at all limited to a feminist point of view. I was more than delighted to have met her and her fellow Canadian poets as Jim Nason and Maureen Hynes and happy to have been present at their reading. Especially as Canadian authors, let alone poets, are unfortunately not extensively reviewed in Europe. The more the reason to spread the news...Quote of the Month - August 2012
"Where there are critical books of immense complexity and learning, dealing, but often at second or thirdhand, with original work - novels, plays, stories. The people who write these books form a stratum in universities across the world - they are an international phenomenon, the top layer of literary academia. Their lives are spent in criticising, and in criticising each other's criticism. They at least regard this activity as more important than the original work. It is possible for literary students to spend more time reading criticism and criticism of criticism than they spend reading poetry, novels, biography, stories. A great many people regard this state of affairs as quite normal, and not sad and ridiculous..."
From the Preface of The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing (1971)
From the Preface of The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing (1971)
Quote of the Month - July 2012
"I a-m g-o-i-n-g h-o-m-e. The keys of the typewriter she writes on have already been rubbed smooth, the individual letters can scarcely be distinguished from one another. It is still the same typewriter she brought with her on that odyssey from Berlin to Prague, from Prague to Moscow, and then from Moscow to Ufa in Bashkiria, and near the end of the war, when her son could already speak Russian fluently, back again to Moscow and finally, Berlin. She carried the typewriter in her hand through many streets of many cities, held it on her lap in overcrowded trains, gripping its handle tightly when in this or that foreign place, alone on an airfield or at a train station, she didn't know where to go, when she'd lost her husband in the throng, or else his duties took him elsewhere and he'd boarded a different train. This typewriter was her wall when the corner of a blanket on a floor was her home, with this typewriter she had typed all the words that were to transform the German babarians back into human beings and her homeland back into a homeland."
From Visitation by Jenny Erpenbeck
From Visitation by Jenny Erpenbeck
Jenny Erpenbeck (*1967)
Another female writer who read at the EdBookFest - Jenny Erpenbeck, born in East-Berlin, former German Democratic Republic. And she, too, comes from a family of writers: her grandfather Fritz Erpenbeck was an actor, author and founder of the journal Theater der Zeit. His wife Hedda Zinner was a former actress who turned to politics becoming a left-wing journalist. During WWII they emigrated to Vienna and Prague, moving on to the Soviet-Union in 1935, returning to East-Berlin after the war. Jenny's father John Erpenbeck, born in Ufa, Russia, is a physicist and author and her mother Doris Kilias was a translator of Arabic literature (e.g. Nobel Prize winner Naguib Mahfouz). Nevertheless, Jenny first learned the trade of a bookbinder before turning to the theatre. She started at the Humboldt University of Berlin, changed to study Music Theatre Director at the Hanns Eisler Music Conservatory and completed her studies in 1994. As a freelance director she directed at various opera houses in Germany and Austria. About that time she started also to write. Her first very surreal novel The Old Child gained her all attention right away. Her second novel The Book of Words turned out even more surreal and dreamlike. Her absurd style had Michel Faber write in a review: "[Jenny] is one of the finest, 
most exciting authors alive" (The Guardian, 30/10/2012). And it was Michel himself interviewing Jenny at the EdBookFest. Her third novel Visitation was the focus of the evening - another enigmatic novel with a (haunted?!) house as a framing character, its changes of ownership mirroring the political transitions spanning several decennials. "When you come from the East, when you've seen your country disappear, you understand how quickly things can change. Suddenly, everything seems surrealistic!" (EdBookFest, 2011). As the former GDR with its dark secrets 'haunts' her first two books, her third novel is set on a bigger canvas - eventually, the change of the GDR becomes only one of various transitions. Seemingly, those changes and their accompanying losses are 'haunting' Jenny herself. Her fourth novel bears the title: Things that Disappear...
most exciting authors alive" (The Guardian, 30/10/2012). And it was Michel himself interviewing Jenny at the EdBookFest. Her third novel Visitation was the focus of the evening - another enigmatic novel with a (haunted?!) house as a framing character, its changes of ownership mirroring the political transitions spanning several decennials. "When you come from the East, when you've seen your country disappear, you understand how quickly things can change. Suddenly, everything seems surrealistic!" (EdBookFest, 2011). As the former GDR with its dark secrets 'haunts' her first two books, her third novel is set on a bigger canvas - eventually, the change of the GDR becomes only one of various transitions. Seemingly, those changes and their accompanying losses are 'haunting' Jenny herself. Her fourth novel bears the title: Things that Disappear...Quote of the Month - June 2012
"Rabia is watching me from a distance. She's been watching me closely since I got back from Islamabad last week after Beema's mother's funeral. She doesn't know whether to trust that I'm well.
I'm not well, but I 'm getting there. I still wake up some nights screaming from dreams of Omi. I still miss Ed. I find myself weeping uncontrollably in moments when I least expect it, and I know it's for Mama. But already I can feel this begin to pass into a quieter grief, one that will become part of my character without destroying me.
I make that sound so easy. Nothing about this has been easy. But somehow I find I really am strong enough to bear it. And I recognize how remarkable, and how unearned, a gift that is."
From Broken Verses by Kamila Shamsie
I'm not well, but I 'm getting there. I still wake up some nights screaming from dreams of Omi. I still miss Ed. I find myself weeping uncontrollably in moments when I least expect it, and I know it's for Mama. But already I can feel this begin to pass into a quieter grief, one that will become part of my character without destroying me.
I make that sound so easy. Nothing about this has been easy. But somehow I find I really am strong enough to bear it. And I recognize how remarkable, and how unearned, a gift that is."
From Broken Verses by Kamila Shamsie
Kamila Shamsie (*1973)
From Bangladesh to Pakistan, Karachi to say - to another novelist with a long family history of (female) writers: Kamila Shamsie is daughter of Muneeza Shamsie (writer, journalist, critic), niece of Attia Hosain (writer, feminist, broadcaster) and granddaughter of Begum Jahanara Habibullah (writer), just to mention a few. "It was much later that I realised how important it was for me to grow up in a family where the written word mattered so deeply" (K.S. in The Guardian, 1/5/2009). At first Kamila Shamsie, born in Pakistan, didn't recognise her special link as all her relatives are/were writing in Urdu. She, herself, writes in English which seemed a huge difference to her. Additionally, Kamila only started writing, specifically about Karachi, when she moved to America as a student. She wrote her first novel In the City by the Sea while she still attended the MFA Program for Poets & Writers at the University of Massachusetts where she got her MFA after a BA in Creative Writing from Hamilton College. Due to her homesickness she began writing about Karachi however, her books never became travelogues. She covers a broad view on places, writing about lost cricket matches, broken promises and religious confusion while concentrating also on violence and (hidden) political restrictions. As Kamila mentioned at the EdBookFest, there is actually a boom of writing of the experience of political events. Writers in English mainly dare to write more of social problems than writers in Urdu. It's writers in Urdu that face problems with a secret censorship as they reach a wider audience. On the other hand, writers in English reach a more influential and politically intellectual readership.
But Kamila not only writes herself, she has also been a judge for various literary awards, as the Orange Award for New Writers and the Guardian First Book Award. I read her fourth novel Broken Verses and have been very much impressed by the compassion combined with the intelligence of her characters. I savoured particularly her highly articulate use of language - all in all a stunning and impressive novel on love and loss of dear ones and a near physical pain when facing the truth. It seems to me needless to say that she already won several serious literary prizes for her five novels. P.S.: various titles are translated into Dutch, German and Danish.
As I loved her writing, I'll offer you another piece from Broken Verses:
"The joke of it, of course, is that we ourselves become slaves to the stories of our own characters. Our invented narratives of self determine our actions and reactions - I am brave; I am fickle; in such and such a situation I will behave in such and such a fashion. Character is just an invention, but it's an invention that serves as both reason and justification for our behaviour. It is the self-fulfilling prophecy that guides our lives, worming its way so deep beneath the levels of conscious thought that we forget there might have been a time when our 'defining traits' seemed less than inevitable. We are able to look back on our lives and chart our 'development of character', never seeing that it's the development of a storyline, and the longer we live with it the more boxed in we are by the rapidly diminishing variedness of our imagined selves. What we can't ever accept is that we might never know who we are."
Quote of the Month - May 2012
"Now Sohail wonders if he should have reserved a little pity for these men. He feels the tug of an earlier self, a still-soft self: geographer, not guerrilla.[...] It is the softer self who leads him to explore the room behind the munitions store, who slides open the heavy metal door, who palms the wall, searching for a light switch - who is met with a sight that will continue to suck the breath out of him for a lifetime to come."
From The Good Muslim by Tahmima Anam
From The Good Muslim by Tahmima Anam
Tahmima Anam (*1975)
Tahmima Anam was a complete unknown writer to me. Never heard nor read anything of or by her. When I bought the ticket to see Hanan Al-Shaykh, Tahmima was the complementary author that evening. Young Tahmima was sitting rather shy and demure next to Hanan, obviously acknowledging Hanan's status. But the minute Tahmima reacted to Hanan's recollection of her mother's accusation (see also 'Quote of the Month - April 2012), Tahmima became more and more involved and stronger in her appearance. Having listened to her carefully, Tahmima certainly gained her place next to Hanan.
Tahmima Anam was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Her father, Mahfuz Anam, is the editor and publisher of The Daily Star who also worked as a media expert for the UNESCO. Consequently, Tahmima grew up in Paris, New York City and Bangkok. During those years she completed her education in the US where she earned a PhD as anthropologist from Harvard University. Nevertheless, it seems as if her family's background - her own father being editor, her grandfather, Abul Mansur Ahmed, a well-known writer - tugged at her eventually. She turned to writing, completing in 2005 a creative writing course at the University of London with a Master of Arts. Her first novel, A Golden Age was published in 2007 revolving around the Bangladesh Liberation War. The theme echoes in her second novel, The Good Muslim, thus making both books sequels of a "projected trilogy" (Ophelia Field, The Daily Telegraph (11/05/2011)). When Tahmima was interviewed at the EdBookFest, she referred to the 'wounds that war leaves on souls' and its damaging effect. Her own family, both parents and grandparents were closely involved in the Liberation War. What happens to people that are/were involved in a war? How does war influence their future? And how come that, as in The Good Muslim, even years after a war ended families are still fractured? Both her books, A Golden Age and The Good Muslim won Tahmima serious literary prizes. Her style is being described as 'gripping' and 'mesmerizing', her latest novel reviewed as being "a timely drama about the unpredictable effects of religious zealotry and political violence as well as a keen examination of survival and forgiveness" (Valerie Miner, LA Times (14/08/2011)). Probably, we will hear more from her, if not at least read about the third sequel; keep an eye on her - she's certainly worth it!Quote of the Month - April 2012
"Why are you still nibbling from other people's dishes?"
From The Locust and The Bird, My Mother's Story by Hanan Al-Shaykh
From The Locust and The Bird, My Mother's Story by Hanan Al-Shaykh
Hanan Al-Shaykh (*1945)
Hanan Al-Shaykh, a leading contemporary Arab writer of novels, short stories and plays - I met her at the EdBookFest while she presented her newest project: 19 newly adapted of the 1,001 tales from the Arabian Nights in English. She took care to have the stories truthfully translated: piquant, sometimes even luscious, stories definitely revising the 'Disneyfied' children's stories Western readers have come to know. I found it most intriguing to meet another author from the East widening my narrow Western point of view. And with it someone who is not afraid of telling the truth, certainly not wanting to please anyone (not even her mother...). 
Quote of the Month - March 2012
"There was a man dwelt by a churchyard.
Well, no, okay, it wasn't always a man; in this particular case it was a woman. There was a woman dwelt by a churchyard.
Though, to be honest, nobody really uses that word nowadays. Everybody says cemetery. And nobody says dwelt any more. In other words:
There was once a woman who lived by a cemetery. Every morning when she woke up she looked out of her back window and saw -
Actually, no. There was once a woman who lived by - no, in - a second-hand bookshop. She lived in the flat on the first floor and ran the shop which took up the whole of downstairs.There she sat, day after day, among the skulls and the bones of second-hand books, the stacks and shelves of them spanning the lengths and breadths of the long and narrow rooms, the piles of them swaying up, precarious like rootless towers, towards the cracked plaster of the ceiling."
From The Whole Story and other stories, the short story "the universal story" by Ali Smith
Well, no, okay, it wasn't always a man; in this particular case it was a woman. There was a woman dwelt by a churchyard.
Though, to be honest, nobody really uses that word nowadays. Everybody says cemetery. And nobody says dwelt any more. In other words:
There was once a woman who lived by a cemetery. Every morning when she woke up she looked out of her back window and saw -
Actually, no. There was once a woman who lived by - no, in - a second-hand bookshop. She lived in the flat on the first floor and ran the shop which took up the whole of downstairs.There she sat, day after day, among the skulls and the bones of second-hand books, the stacks and shelves of them spanning the lengths and breadths of the long and narrow rooms, the piles of them swaying up, precarious like rootless towers, towards the cracked plaster of the ceiling."
From The Whole Story and other stories, the short story "the universal story" by Ali Smith
Ali Smith (*1962)
Another featured author at the EdBookFest in 2011. Unfortunately, Ali Smith read at the festival while I was checking in at Schiphol. So, I missed her voice. After having read her short story collection "The Whole Story and other stories", I am even more aware of what I've missed. Her very original voice, her wittiness of breaking with literary conventions, jumping from one first-person narrator to another and leaving it undefined whether it is a female or male narrator. She is constantly triggering the reader to sort out the storyline and get the right point of view, not taking one along a well-trodden path. Additionally, she plays with conventions and breaks with everyday concepts. Like, say, falling in love with a tree as in the short story "may"?
"I tell you. I fell in love with a tree. I couldn't not. It was in blossom."
Reason enough, sure, but, hey, a tree? And be assured, it is not a bird or squirrel talking....So another witty Scottish author, Ali Smith was born in Inverness, Scotland, UK. According to wikipedia, Smith was born to "working-class parents" and "raised in a council house" (mind you!). She studied at the University of Aberdeen and went to Newnham College at Cambridge to never finish her PhD. While working as a lecturer at the University of Strathclyde she fell ill with the myalgic encephalomyelitis syndrom, or more commonly named, the chronic fatigue syndrom. She now lives with her partner Sarah Wood in Cambridge and is a full-time writer besides of writing for various newspapers as The Guardian, The Scotsman and the Times Literary Supplement. Her brilliant talent lies in exploring the everyday for unexpected beauty and at the same time picturing the comedy in it while capturing bizarre psychological territories. Her canny style won her already various prizes, several of her short stories were shortlisted and the critics are full of praise. Certainly a modern writer you shouldn't miss.
"I tell you. I fell in love with a tree. I couldn't not. It was in blossom."
Reason enough, sure, but, hey, a tree? And be assured, it is not a bird or squirrel talking....So another witty Scottish author, Ali Smith was born in Inverness, Scotland, UK. According to wikipedia, Smith was born to "working-class parents" and "raised in a council house" (mind you!). She studied at the University of Aberdeen and went to Newnham College at Cambridge to never finish her PhD. While working as a lecturer at the University of Strathclyde she fell ill with the myalgic encephalomyelitis syndrom, or more commonly named, the chronic fatigue syndrom. She now lives with her partner Sarah Wood in Cambridge and is a full-time writer besides of writing for various newspapers as The Guardian, The Scotsman and the Times Literary Supplement. Her brilliant talent lies in exploring the everyday for unexpected beauty and at the same time picturing the comedy in it while capturing bizarre psychological territories. Her canny style won her already various prizes, several of her short stories were shortlisted and the critics are full of praise. Certainly a modern writer you shouldn't miss.
Quote of the Month - February 2012
"Yawning, I shambled downstairs. I thought Lola Nan had stopped hoovering, but when I pushed open the lounge door she was still at it, only the Hoover wasn't switched on. Her head jerked up and she stared wildly at me, shoving the vacuum cleaner back and forth. Her bone-white hair stuck out all over, as if she'd plugged herself into the socket by mistake.
'Want a cup of tea, Lola Nan?' I said.
'I can't hear you!' she shouted.
'Cup of tea?' I shouted back. God, I'd make someone a great husband one day. I was that used to humouring crazy women.
From Crossing the Line by Gillian Philip.
'Want a cup of tea, Lola Nan?' I said.
'I can't hear you!' she shouted.
'Cup of tea?' I shouted back. God, I'd make someone a great husband one day. I was that used to humouring crazy women.
From Crossing the Line by Gillian Philip.
Gillian Philip *1964
I am not usually reading Young Adult (YA) novels, but a friendly visitor at the EdBookFest advocated Gillian's writings to me (well, actually, he's a friend of Gillian and a barrister with it...). Out of curiosity, I bought one of her books, Crossing the Line, and went to her reading at the festival. So, another 'lesser known' female writer to present:
Gillian Philip was born in Glasgow, Scotland, UK. When she was 11 years old, the family moved to Aberdeen. Besides of spending a lot of time on the beach, she liked to write already from an early age onwards with English being her favourite subject at school. Nevertheless, she chose to read Politics & International Relations at the University, doing odd jobs afterwards, as assisting an aspiring MP who she married in 1989. In 1990, the couple moved to Barbados where Gillian decided to turn to writing seriously. She had several short stories published in magazines but only in 2001, when returning to Scotland, she turned to novels for young adults. Her first full length novel Bad Faith was published in 2008. In the meantime she published several stories covering various genres, including crime, horror and fantasy. She also publishes under the name Gabriella Poole, writing for the 'Darke Academy' series, the 'Rebel Angels' series and 'Shades'. Furthermore she ghostwrites fiction for Evans Brothers, a publisher specialised on books for the UK curriculum.
What I thought about my first YA book: Though there are some flaws in the consistency of the first-person narrator, the seventeen year old Nick ("Ah, hormones and lust, there is no reasoning with them" ???), I was astonished about the intensity of the events taken place and the way the main character handles them. Very dense and emotionally stirring, still the story line stays calm - a very well composed arrangement and well kept to the limited point of view. I was glad to have taken this side path in literature for once.
Quote of the Month - January 2012
"I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and moulding my life, is too much of a daily event for me."
Anaïs Nin
Anaïs Nin
Anaïs Nin (1903 - 1977)
A well-fitting quote I thought...
Anaïs Nin, born Angela Anaïs Juana Antolina Rosa Edelmira Nin y Culmell in Neuilly, France, to the Cuban composer Joaquin Nin and French-Danish singer Rosa Culmell (remember, this is 1903!). When she was eleven, her parents divorced and her mother moved with Anaïs and her two brothers from Barcelona to New York. This is also the time that Anaïs began to write her journals for which she is widely known. In 1923, she married Hugo Guiler and moved to Paris in 1924. Hugo worked for an international bank, allowing Anaïs to live on and off in a studio to herself or even in a houseboat, pursuing her interest in writing. They additionally supported various avant-garde artists which became close friends and sometimes lovers to Anaïs. Her most remarkable affair is with Henry Miller, who strongly influenced her both as a woman and author. Anaïs Nin wrote a number of novels and prose poems in surrealistic style but she is probably best remembered for her diaries. They cover several decades and provide a deep insight into her personal life and relationships. She was also one of the first female writer to explore fully the range of erotic writing and certainly the first woman in Europe to write erotica. The rumor that Anaïs was bisexual was given extra speculation by Philip Kaufmann's film Henry & June. In 1939, Hugo and Anaïs moved back to NY, when American citizens were urged to leave Europe due to the upcoming war. Eight years later she began a relationship with Rupert Pole, sixteen years her junior, dividing her live between NY/Hugo and Los Angeles, where Rupert lived. In 1955, she moved permanently to Los Angeles to live with Rupert until she died of cancer in 1977.
Though she was a popular lecturer during the feminist movement in the 1960s, she refused to be connected to its political aims. Only late, in 1973, she received an honorary doctorate from the Philadelphia College of Art and in 1974 was she elected to the United States National Institute of Arts and Letters.
Anaïs Nin, born Angela Anaïs Juana Antolina Rosa Edelmira Nin y Culmell in Neuilly, France, to the Cuban composer Joaquin Nin and French-Danish singer Rosa Culmell (remember, this is 1903!). When she was eleven, her parents divorced and her mother moved with Anaïs and her two brothers from Barcelona to New York. This is also the time that Anaïs began to write her journals for which she is widely known. In 1923, she married Hugo Guiler and moved to Paris in 1924. Hugo worked for an international bank, allowing Anaïs to live on and off in a studio to herself or even in a houseboat, pursuing her interest in writing. They additionally supported various avant-garde artists which became close friends and sometimes lovers to Anaïs. Her most remarkable affair is with Henry Miller, who strongly influenced her both as a woman and author. Anaïs Nin wrote a number of novels and prose poems in surrealistic style but she is probably best remembered for her diaries. They cover several decades and provide a deep insight into her personal life and relationships. She was also one of the first female writer to explore fully the range of erotic writing and certainly the first woman in Europe to write erotica. The rumor that Anaïs was bisexual was given extra speculation by Philip Kaufmann's film Henry & June. In 1939, Hugo and Anaïs moved back to NY, when American citizens were urged to leave Europe due to the upcoming war. Eight years later she began a relationship with Rupert Pole, sixteen years her junior, dividing her live between NY/Hugo and Los Angeles, where Rupert lived. In 1955, she moved permanently to Los Angeles to live with Rupert until she died of cancer in 1977.
Though she was a popular lecturer during the feminist movement in the 1960s, she refused to be connected to its political aims. Only late, in 1973, she received an honorary doctorate from the Philadelphia College of Art and in 1974 was she elected to the United States National Institute of Arts and Letters.
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