the dangers of single narratives and cultural appropriation

A recent discussion with native students who had been asked to go into a classroom to talk about native knowledge/traditions left me thinking about cultural stories and authority. The students were reticent to go into the classroom because they felt like they'd be on display but all I could think about (but not figure a tactful way to ask it) was "who do you want to be in charge of telling your stories?"

I grew up with a mother who was very concerned with voice appropriation (cultural appropriation) in native communities and who would never dare to make a button blanket despite her love of them, because she felt she had no right to infringe upon the traditional craft of another cultural (particularly one who had been infringed upon so much).

As a student of literature, this idea of cultural appropriation (taking on the voice of another culture, or attempting to speak for another culture) was something that was a deep interest to me (in fact, I hummed and hawed for a long time before finally allowing myself to write about Indian (from India... because for some reaons that's never clear to people) literature. After all, who was I, the white girl who'd descended from Europeans who'd visited horrible atrocities on other nations (I'm part Dutch... and the Dutch and South Africa don't have the best track records). So how could I possibly dare to think I could become a literary (sort of) authority on sonnets from India... really?

In fact, this is still an issue that doesn't sit well with me because I think western culture is engaging in a whole new form of cultural imperialism through ESL and globalisation. But if the people of a culture won't step up to tell their stories, and if they are stories that need to be collected and told, is it wrong for an outsider to step in and tell them? To at least open the door so that another can enter it and finish the story? I'm not sure what the answer to that question is. And while I sat with these students, who understandbly don't want to be a token native spectacle for their peers, I couldn't help feeling like I wanted to be blunt and rude and say, "dammit, if you don't tell the stories, someone else will. Do you really want someone else to tell your stories? Do you want to let them take ownership and authority over your narrative?"

But how do you ask that in a polite conversation? I've been chewing on that question for the past few days now, and I still don't know how... but I'm starting to suspect that maybe, I should just ask it, bluntly, as is... and let them do with it what they will.  Because the risk of not telling your own stories, in your own voice, is that of letting a single narrative take over and tell an incomplete story of your identity, which only perpetuates the stereotypes out there. Which is why, when I listened to this TED talk on my ride to work this morning, I couldn't help but be struck by the synchronicity of it (and also inspired to want to create a literary course that starts with this argument):

Elizabeth Gilbert: Inspiration, Creativity, and Sequels

Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love is putting out a "sequel" of sorts in January 2010 called Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage (see NYTimes) and I have to admit that I'm looking forward to it.

I was originally skeptical about the Eat, Pray, Love hype (I'm a true pop culture cynic, what can I say) but picked it up last summer, read it, and loved it. Did it change my life? No. Did it speak to me? Yes. Am I going to follow the same path/search she did? No. However, I think she makes it clear in many of discussions about the book and her experiences, that this was never the intention. Fame being fame, of course people have tried to emulate her experience...

That said, the fact that her 2nd personal memoir book is coming out in Jan, months after my wedding, strikes me as fitting on a very personal level. I'm looking forward to processing my own post wedding sentiments and reading about her own thoughts at the same time. Will they be the same, probably not. But I'm looking forward to viewing the issue through her perspective because I find her writing to be quite inspirational and thought provoking (which is, in my opinion, a high compliment). In case you haven't seen in and are in need of a little inspiration on the nature of creativity, check out her TED presentation:

Kamala Das

If you don't know her poetry, you should. (click photo for an interesting article)

Kamala Das was an Indian poet who wrote racy, erotic, feminist poetry. She converted to Islam, lived through Partition, and was quite the shit-disturbing, controversial figure!

The Looking Glass
by Kamala Das

Getting a man to love you is easy
Only be honest about your wants as
Woman. Stand nude before the glass with him
So that he sees himself the stronger one
And believes it so, and you so much more
Softer, younger, lovelier. Admit your
Admiration. Notice the perfection
Of his limbs, his eyes reddening under
The shower, the shy walk across the bathroom floor,
Dropping towels, and the jerky way he
Urinates. All the fond details that make
Him male and your only man. Gift him all,
Gift him what makes you woman, the scent of
Long hair, the musk of sweat between the breasts,
The warm shock of menstrual blood, and all your
Endless female hungers. Oh yes, getting
A man to love is easy, but living
Without him afterwards may have to be
Faced. A living without life when you move
Around, meeting strangers, with your eyes that
Gave up their search, with ears that hear only
His last voice calling out your name and your
Body which once under his touch had gleamed
Like burnished brass, now drab and destitute.

From behind the lens

I'm testing out contacts. Can't say that I'm currently a fan. They drive my eyes bonkers. I feel like I constantly have an eyelash in my eye. Yup, don't know if I'll be able to make the switch.

In other news, a publishing house contacted me about publishing my graduate thesis. Given that they haven't even read the work, I'm not too sure what to expect, but the publisher does seem to be legitimate and the offer sound should it actually go through. However, the choice to actually submit my thesis is fraught with several considerations:

• the thesis needs work before it's really ready to be published and am I ready to let it go out into the world just yet?
• what are the implications of giving over partial copyrights to the work if I ever decide to pursue the idea further?
• do I have the time and self-discipline to edit the work or do I really want to do the work and open those academic insecurities up for examination again?
• there is a whole debate about publishing before you're ready and it being detrimental to your career... would this be me doing that?

I secretly always envisioned reworking the thesis, expanding the idea, and trying to publish it, but I guess I always thought it would be my PhD topic when I was ready. And although the offer is sweet for a graduate level body of work, could the project ever be more? I think it could. I don't know if I'm the one to write it per se, but I think that the research field is fresh, relevant, and totally ready to be explored in the field of Indian literature/poetry. The fact that no one has done so already sort of surprises me.

The Silent Raga

The Silent Raga

Ameen Merchant

The Silent Raga centers around two sisters, Janaki and Mallika, from a conservative middle class Brahmin family and the events that leads to their divison and reunion. When their mother dies, Janaki is pulled out of school, much to her dismay, in order to tend her father's house until a suitable husband can be found for her. Janaki, a gifted veena player, submits to her father's will. Although she is essentially imprisoned by convention, she continues to develop as a musician, purposely sabotages most of her proposals and focuses on her sister's well-being and education. The bonds between the two sisters are strong and Janaki essentially becomes both Mallika's sister and mother. Janaki's two driving motives are music and Mallika.

The story opens with present day Janaki reminiscing about the past and then switches to Mallika questioning Janaki's return after 10 years of absence. The sisters quickly reveal their present situations, Janaki has married a famous Muslim actor, thus eschewing traditional caste values and Mallika has become her father's caretaker (although he is in an asylum) and works in Madras. Through a series of sometimes deft and other times awkward switches between sisters and past and present moments, the story of Janaki's escape (or from Mallika's perspective, betrayal) unfolds. Both of the sisters' narratives are told not only in relation to their sisterly bond, but also focus on their relationships with their father, or lack thereof. The story , although primarily juxtaposing Janaki's self-sacrifice and ensuing guilt with Mallika's resentment and anger over her abandonment, also tells the tale of each girl becoming aware of their father's selfish and hypocritical ways.

The story is well told and engaging; however, Mallika's anger feels somewhat misplaced for most of the story, as if she is completely unaware of what her sister gave up for her despite her claims of being able to read the unspoken language of people. Of the two characters, Janaki is the more compelling because Mallika`s tale feels naive and stunted, which was probably intentional. All of Mallika`s anger and resentment works to some extent until their eventual reunion when she goes from a to b without much effort. There are elements in the story that clearly signal the book as being the author`s first: the shifts between narrative voices, the way music is meant to work as a leitmotif in the novel, and the novel`s resolution.

Of those three elements, all are forgivable and easily overlooked except for the ending. All of the nicely developed imagery, unspoken tensions, and finely expressed sense of powerlessness and frustration are undercut by the fact that the conclusion comes about too quickly and the emotional resolution is too simple. The author has taken us on this long voyage to get to this moment, this is to some extent the overt point of the novel, the driving force behind the tale, and it fails because it feels more like adolescent wish fulfillment than well crafted prose. As first novels go, this is a well done novel, but it is clearly identifiable as a first novel.

The White Tiger

Aravind Adiga

I recently finished this novel and am of 2 minds aobut it. Although I liked it, I can understand why some people took issue with it. The prose was simple and clear but the tone was bordering on overly polemical. Many of the Indian authors/novels I've read have been based in realism but haven't been as flagrant in their criticism on Indian political/social culture.

Perhaps I find this particularly significant because I just read India from Midnight to Millenium and am feeling somewhat glutted with information.

I guess I find The White Tiger different because it goes where most Indian novels touch upon but rarely state so blatantly.