Anon again

Comment from my friend, Anon.

"There is no need for further discussion is there? You want to be right more than you want to be great. I'm up for a pissing match but I can't take on both you and your ego at the same time. Particularly when the stakes are so low.

Any author, every author, possessed of a temperate disposition and dogged personality can ably defend their work, if they so choose. Those with a more didactic bent to their personality can respond to every critique of their work with a treatise on how the work should read; a zealous few take this tendency to its ignoble end and try to counsel readers on the interpretations they should make and the meanings they should in an attempt to hold hostage the discourse of narrative and nuance--a control they relinquish in the very act of publishing.

The greats balance their compulsion to creation with bouts of manic optimism, chronic insecurity and are able to alchemize their condition into the actualizing truths for which we revere them. Apparently, you are not so burdened, except by your own complacency.

Why strive when the accolades come so easily to the big fish in the tiny pond? Why engage in honest intertextual analysis when you could adorn yourself with garlands of pretty words? Why bother when you've already convinced yourself that any reward could be yours if you'd only get off the pot and use your fingers instead of your sphincter? Why grow when you can rest on your laurels, and point to penny-ante prizes dispensed in what you've previously acknowledged as a vacuum of talent, in a calcified state of supposed genius? Why seek out worthy opponents when you can condescend to peons? Why be an artist when you can be an author? Why indeed."

Dear Anon, a couple of points. Like I said, you've given me the best interrogation of my work I've ever received and I value that. My defence isn't as spirited as it might appear because I am my harshest critic - I can point out more errors and more things I am comfortable with in my work than you can ever hope to.

However, when I do find a critical review like yours which asks most of the right questions, it is in my interest to make sure that the interrogation itself is sound, something yours was not, as prettily written as it was. It would of immense value to me if you were to undertake a review of Fictions, whenever I complete the collection. What I am saying is that some of your key prescriptive criticisms were inherently flawed although the path of your probing was legitimate. I posted the three examples of my work to show that your personal dislike of one passage in one story which itself is a "pastiche" (lol) of styles does not warrant a dismissal of the work as a whole.

Regarding my big fish in a small pond status, anyone who knows me knows that is an inherently unfair accusation. I stay and write in Guyana not for any easy laurels since the relative few that I have I have had to sacrifice much for - it is because I have a strong belief that we need to develop a literature of place that, writing that reclaims our particular humanity. The Guyanese parallels of Danticat and Diaz are the big fish against whom writers like me have to struggle against because they present a picture of our people, our society that is inauthentic, dehumanising and painted for the edification and entertainment of people worlds away from us.

In Molly and the Muslim Stick for example, the sole Guyanese character is a primitive idiot whose identity shifts from African to Amerindian, and who gives off scents according to his mood. And of course the Guyana is not the Guyana of recent, something continuously absent in the work of an author whose personal connections to the present government have been unwavering. Read any review of the book and try to see Guyana inside it. It's easy to see this stance as patriotism being the last resort of the scoundrel or the mediocre, but I have had work published in reputable magazines and journals and the Guyana Prize, whatever its shortcomings, does have high standards for adjudication.

I am here because I believe that not only myself, but other writers living here, drawing on our own particular experience can produce work that can compete (and it is a competition, if an incidental one) with the work which purports to represent us but doesn't. Walcott's Hic Jacet has been my personal credo for the "where" I am writing from, and it will be until I feel there is no more I can personally do to give back this place its humanity in literature.

If there is any condescension in my writing, it is to the people who live elsewhere and usurp their origins here for literary gain. I have sought out emerging writers in Guyana and offered my encouragement and support, I have written ad nauseam about the need for writing workshops particularly one supported by the Guyana Prize for Literature, I have helped numerous writers here edit and try to reshape their work, and I am in the process of organising not only a writers' workshop but a writers' retreat on my own initiative. At present I've volunteered to be a student in a drama workshop that I was asked to be a resource person for.

Finally, I don't believe that Guyana is a vacuum of talent - I know some brilliant writers here who, given enough time and opportunities, could stand as the foundation of a true national literary renaissance. I do believe however that this country is an artificially created desert of opportunity for the literary artist, a wasteland created primarily by malign neglect. CARIFESTA was a perfect example of how the powers that be elevated the mediocre and the politically connected, and sidelined people with true talent because their political allegiance was suspect or the color of their skin was not the preferred hue.

I have been insane enough to sacrifice a great deal in order to acquire whatever literary 'stature' I possess today and while I am ready to attempt to ascend beyond this, I believe I do have to make one last ditch attempt to seek out and find the true talent which exists here and aid in creating an environment in which it can be nurtured.

Feel free to e-mail me at ruel.johnson@gmail.com and I would be glad to send you a PDF copy of Fictions which you can rip into at will.