French vs. Creole Literature in the Caribbean

Last month I attended a professional conference on language studies (ISLS: The International Society of Language Studies) in the Caribbean, and one of the most interesting papers I heard there was titled “The Linguistic Crossroads of French Caribbean Writers.” The speaker, Maria Moreno, pointed out the conflict felt by Caribbean writers (she focused on those from Haiti, Martinique, and Guadaloupe), who were torn between using the native language(s) that they were/are proud of -- in this case Creole -- and the more prestigious and widely known French. Because Creole was considered by the larger world, and even many in those countries themselves, as a patois, a "bastardized" version of French, writers tended to write in French instead. Yet, as Moreno showed, beginning in the 1940s and 1950s, writers such as Maryse Conde began to introduce more words and elements of Creole into their writing, first with explanations and then proudly standing on their own. I learned much from this conference paper about the specifics of literature in these countries (although I had read some of Conde’s work a while ago); I am aware of related conflicts experienced by writers in other parts of the world as well. For example, some African writers have chosen to write in English in order to be more widely read, while others have chosen to write in local languages in order to be accessible to local readers, and in order to help preserve those languages. The same situation exists in some cases in India and elsewhere. There are of course many more social/political/literary aspects of these questions around the world, and there is no one “right” answer for any specific writer or locale. This paper on French Caribbean writers was a good reminder of the ongoing issues.

Julian Barnes' "Homage to Hemingway"

Yet more Hemingway! After writing several times recently on Hemingway-related topics, most recently on 7/1/11, I opened the 7/4/11 issue of The New Yorker to find a Julian Barnes short story titled “Homage to Hemingway.” The story is about a writer who teaches writing at various seminars in various locales, and often alludes to Hemingway. The story’s three-part structure echoes, we find out, the three-part structure of Hemingway’s own story, “Homage to Switzerland.” In that story, three American men wait at different Swiss train stations, and idly amuse themselves by bothering and/or condescending to local waitresses, porters, and others in various ways. This is definitely an “ugly American” story. There is a feeling that the three men are three aspects of the same man or at least the same type. In Barnes’ story, the three parts depict the writer in different teaching situations, including one in Switzerland. The writer/teacher talks about and speculates about the Hemingway story. After reading the Barnes story, I found and listened to a podcast (of 12/8/10) on the Guardian UK book site (www.guardian.co.uk/books) of Barnes reading the Hemingway story, and it was illuminating to experience the two stories back to back. The podcast also included Barnes’ commentary about the story, which he chose because it was NOT one of the “macho” stories, but one that showed Hemingway’s lesser-known wit and humor, as well as some innovation in form. For another side of Hemingway, and a deft homage to that side, I recommend both “Homage” stories to your attention.

"Another You"

I like Ann Beattie’s work very much, and have written about it here (6/26/10). But recently when I took one of her novels, “Another You” (Vintage, 1996), with me on a trip, and read a bit on the plane, a bit in the hotel room, and a bit more on the plane back, I found myself dragging myself through it, dozing off, getting distracted, not looking forward to reading more. I finally did finish it, but I just didn’t enjoy it all that much. The problem may have been that I didn’t feel engaged with the main characters -- a couple in a lukewarm marriage, a charming but bizarre and deceptive English professor acquaintance of theirs, an earnest but also deceptive female college student, and assorted others -- or the plot, a kind of meandering, semi-mysterious one, with turns and twists that were meant to be surprising but just sort of fizzled out. Now I can’t decide if it is just this novel, or if I am somehow less taken by Ann Beattie’s work as a whole than I used to be. Or perhaps I still like her short stories (which she is most known for) but not her novels? Should I seek out and read or re-read another of her novels to find out? Or should I let the question percolate in the back of my mind until I happen to stumble across one of her novels again, perhaps at a library sale or on vacation, and then see what happens?

No Writing Without Reading

I am a firm believer that one cannot be a good, let alone great, writer without being a constant reader. It astonishes me to hear of people who want to be writers but don’t actually enjoy reading much, and sometimes proudly admit as much. Imagine the equivalent situations of someone who learns to play a musical instrument without listening to music, or someone who paints without looking at works of art in museums, galleries, walls of murals, or books. Yes, the basic content of art is life itself, but one needs to see and hear what others have made of this content throughout the history of music, art, and literature: the great themes, myths, and metaphors. And regarding form: one has to read a lot -- and I mean a LOT -- to absorb the rhythms of the language, the grammatical patterns, the riches of vocabulary, and the glorious combinations of words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters that form the best that language has to offer.

"The Paris Wife"

Hemingway, Hemingway, Hemingway! I haven’t thought much about Ernest Hemingway for years, but in the past few months he has re-entered my consciousness several times, through his novel “The Sun Also Rises,” which I re-read and then posted about on 2/27/11; the film “Paris at Midnight,” which I posted about on 6/9/11; an article about him in an airline magazine, of all places, which I posted about on 6/29/11; and now the bestselling novelized version of his first wife’s life, “The Paris Wife” (Ballantine, 2011), by Paula McLain. This novel recaps some of the information we all know by now about the Hemingway years in Paris in the 20s, but it adds (in a fictionalized version) much information and many insights both about Hemingway and about his wife Hadley. They had a lot going for them, including a child, and it was in some ways a golden time for them as well as for their group of friends, but Hemingway’s writing always came first, and Hadley was often lonely. And after a few years, he was somehow able to justify in his own mind that it was acceptable for him to have an affair with a dazzling woman, a free spirit, whom both Ernest and Hadley had been close to. The affair broke up the marriage. Although the novel gives Hemingway his due, and presents a rounded portrait of his strengths and weaknesses, finally we see that he was essentially selfish in feeling he should be able to have everything he wanted, no matter the cost to those around him. This novel is well written and fast-paced, a literary page turner.

"Shine On, Bright & Dangerous Object"

On 1/21/11, I wrote about the wonderful author Laurie Colwin, who died too young, but not before writing several novels and short story collections. I recently picked up her novel “Shine On, Bright & Dangerous Object” (Penguin, 1975), which I had read years ago but decided to re-read. This slim volume tells the story of Olly, whose husband Sam –- a charming and daring man -- has died in a boat accident. She mourns him desperately, and is both supported by and frustrated by her relatives and his. As she reflects on her marriage to Sam, she realizes that though she loved him very much, he had serious problems too. Olly, still young, gradually regains some of her zest for life, and there is actually a happy ending that the reader can see coming before Olly does. Much of the novel is about family relationships, always an interesting topic for me. It is also about young, educated, upper middle class people at a certain time period -- the early 70s -- for whom, despite all problems and tragedies, there was a sense that all would eventually work out well. This was not so much a sense of entitlement (although this played into it) as a kind of optimism and confidence they inhaled (no, not that kind of inhaling, although there is a bit of that too) from their privileged and wide-open environment. This sense gave Olly her resilience. "Shine On..." was enjoyable to read, although a little less impressive than I remembered it. Still, it is well written and has much to offer.

An Airline Magazine Surprise

Many of us dismiss airline magazines as sources only of information about such airline matters as maps of terminals and lists of snacks for sale, along with a few fluffy travel articles; the magazines are generally good only for leafing through for five or ten minutes before settling in with one's book or perhaps a movie or a nap. However, on a very recent trip, I was pleasantly surprised by the June 2011 issue of American Airline’s “American Way” magazine. It included an interesting, fairly thoughtful article about Hemingway, tied to this year’s being the 50th anniversary of his death, as well as an editorial about Beryl Markham. Granted, the Markham piece was mostly about her aviation history rather than about her literary work, but still, I was pleased that the issue devoted this amount of space to literary figures.