From pastoral poetry to Celtic revival and the brilliant
exactitude of W B Yeats, Irish poetry has travelled on a mountainous topography
of changes that has only enriched its lyrical landscape. After the era of
symbolism, poets like Gabriel Rosenstock have amalgamated Irish tradition of
poetry with influences from other cultures and languages tucked faraway on the
mental map. In an interview with Saima Afreen, Gabriel Rosenstock talks about
his new book 'The Flea Market in Valparaiso', and the aftertaste that British
imperialism left on the tongue of Ireland.
The Indian connection
It is not just a search of another 'I' that brings Gabriel
from Ireland to India so many times. He finds a myriad of things that are
common between the two countries though they are miles apart. He finds the
contrasts amazing in India, "Life in India is so different. There are so
many colours and scents around, the flowers and dresses - a delightful shock to
the senses. This reflects in the great diversity of Indian linguistic and
cultural scene. And, ostensibly, we share a common past in colonialism. It was
not for nothing that Edwin Thumboo described Ireland as the first colony of the
British. They practised imperialism here and Ireland's forests were robbed to
build the British Navy.".
On English language
With a deep sigh Gabriel quotes Hugh MacDiarmid, "The
Scottish poet said, 'English is not a language, it is a disease.' Poetry has
its roots in songs, chants and metres and I don't believe that the English
language is a suitable vehicle for poetic art in former British colonies in
Asia and Africa. The language in which you name your rivers, sing your
lullabies and laments; the language you speak after waking up from a sweet
dream - this language has a direct route to the heart, the heart that sings and
sees. Why should English master my mind if it is not the language of the heart?
It is the language of weather reports and the broken English of international
so-called communication."
Great Art is always channelled; it draws on the stream of
the language of ancestry. Gabriel ponders, "Looking back a thousand years,
this language can be equipped with numerous secrets and blessings. Writing
poetry in the language of the colonizer is something forced. I do not know how
one can fully recover from the shocks which the colonizer inflicts upon a
sensitive heart. There are Indian masters of English language, surely, and
Irish masters; but English is not a pass, in itself, to greatness or distinction.
I see advertisements in India which couple English classes with improved
personality. The opposite is true. Followers of Macaulay have no true
personality of their own!
Linguistic landscapes
"We in Ireland have a Language Commissioner who
resigned recently because he thought the present government was not
accommodating Irish speakers and the State was neglecting its recruitment
policies. Less than 2% of the employees of the Department of Education are able
to communicate in Irish. This would have astounded the Gaelic enthusiasts who
fought and died during the 1916 Rising, hoping for an Ireland that would be a
true Republic and one that would show respect for the ancestral tongue"
He calls for an awakening of consciousness on language
survival, something that does not engage the opinion makers of the world's
media. He fears that in fifty years time only three or four Indian languages
will survive, as literary media. We need to wake up!
On Irish poetry
The poetry of Ireland, in the Irish language (Gaelic) dates
back to the pre-Christian era. Latin and Greek aside, Irish is the oldest
written literature in Europe. "We come from a country that enjoys talking
and conviviality. Our literature - our superb short stories in English and
Irish - derive from this storytelling tradition. Much of the originality and
humour comes from an anarchic streak. If you have seven hundred years of
colonial imperialism, it nurtures a suspicion of authority. Your intelligence
demands a rebellious questioning of symbols and clichés. These instincts are
highly developed in many artists. Ireland, an island, is less than a metropolis
in size; everybody knows everybody. We familiarize ourselves with our
poetry."
On his works
Gabriel writes both in Irish and English. Other than writing
in free verse, he writes haiku and has translated widely. His famous work
'Portrait of the artist as an Abominable Snowman' won him accolades. His new
book 'The Flea Market in Valparaiso' bears Indian imprints in lines such as:
at the foot of the cross
a snail trailing blood
becomes a Buddha
A bilingual book called Bliain an Bhandé/ Year of the
Goddess is an attempt towards incorporating the spirit of bhakti into Western
poetry. He elaborates, "I write out of the unknown, to make known the
unknown, or if not to make it known, at least shimmering and musical, somehow.
What I know I don't write about. What I know is not poetry. The poet is always
on a voyage on an unknown vast sea inside him/her. When we begin to open our
eyes we see that we, too, are being watched unconsciously. The more our
consciousness expands the more we see things clearer. There are some in the
Kalahari Desert, who have experienced the expanse of the stars and other events
unfolding, naming stars visible only to the telescope. Explosion and implosion
is required for Art can't remain idle for long. Art is an essential awakening
to the mystery of Life." He signs off, "If pundits, professors and
priests miss the vital role of mystery in poetry, they will miss it too in their
lives! Living the mystery is all we need to do."
No comments:
Post a Comment