(Poet, Amatoritsero Ede in conversation with novelist, M.G. Vassanji) <\/i><\/p>\n
Amatoritsero Ede<\/b>: MG, it is exciting to have you on MTLS. First, do kindly give us an idea of the central \u2018gist\u2019 of your very latest novel, which comes out this October.<\/p>\n
M.G. Vassanji<\/b>: The latest book is not a novel but what I call a travel memoir. It is called And Home Was Kariakoo: A Memoir of East Africa<\/i>. In it I describe my travels in Tanzania and Kenya, relating them to my own life, my experiences, and my interests. In the process I also unearth some little-known but fascinating histories. The book came about partly out of my frustration at seeing the places that I relate to intimately and that I love described in a \u201cthem-us\u201d manner by fleet-footed travellers reporting to their constituents. One such writer is Paul Theroux, who wrote Dark Star Safari. <\/i> He is an adventurous, an intrepid and brave traveller, and makes many interesting and valid comments and observations; in the 1960s he even spent some time in Uganda and wrote for a literary magazine there. But the tone of this particular narrative is \u201cthis is what Africa is like.\u201d He does not know the language, shows no intimacy or empathy with the people or the landscape. For example, he goes to a town called Mbeya and calls it a \u201chabitable ruin.\u201d \u201cIn a town like Mbeya I understood the sense of futility… In such towns I felt: no achievements, no successes, the place is only bigger and darker and worse.\u201d Well, I visited Mbeya. I spent a few days in a lovely old house overlooking a mountain, which in the morning would be covered in mist. It reminded me of another town, at Lake Victoria, where I did my National Service when I was nineteen. To me the place is beautiful, and I have a friend and translator there; I gave a reading at the Mbeya Club and there was a wonderful and enthusiastic literary discussion afterwards. Sure, there is enough to criticize in Mbeya (electricity was sporadic in the house), but that is true of everywhere. In my turn, I wanted to write an intimate narrative of Africa, from within, so to speak. I could see humour where outsiders can\u2019t; I could find nuances and relevance and beauty, which escape them.<\/p>\n
A.E.<\/b>: Dark Star! Theroux is famously connected to V. S Naipaul, who was described by Derek Walcott as V.S. Nightfall on account of the same habit of misrepresentation\/demonization you note in Theorux; very apposite\u2026 Particular literary spaces usually lay claim to the successful writer as part of their cultural capital; you are a \u2018Canadian\u2019 writer by dint of immigration and naturalization. Is it in order to also say that you are a Kenyan writer and a Tanzanian writer?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> I would say so. But this is accepted more and more nowadays; many countries allow dual citizenships, don\u2019t they? Immigration or naturalization does not change your memories, or your history, your traditions, your sense of space and sound. You arrive with a larger worldview than that of the native. But immigration does gradually shape your perspective and broadens your worldview and your concerns even further, perhaps deepens them; and of course often it also provides you the opportunity to create and write. And so of course I am also a Canadian writer. But too much, too precise, or too insistent a labelling can get annoying. You don\u2019t write with a flag by your side. You write, and that\u2019s it.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> These days it is fashionable for some younger and newer crop of African writers to reject the tag \u2018African writer\u2019 due to postmodern notions of global citizenship. What is your feeling about this?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Tags or labels are contextual. There is a time and place to call someone an African writer, a Canadian writer, or an American writer; I think a concern with being labelled arises from the fact that often the labels are used in a dismissive sense. Thus \u201cmulticultural\u201d may dismiss you into a transient margin that is patronized; it gives as it takes away. I\u2019m not concerned by labels; my work speaks for itself. And to me, anyone can be tagged, everyone is, in a sense, \u201cethnic.\u201d
\n
\nA.E.:<\/b> From your very first novel, The Gunny Sack<\/i> to The Magic of Saida<\/i>, you narrate the present in terms of the past (or vice versa) in order to meditate on questions about identity, liminality, hybridity, exile, and belonging. In how far can all that be said to reflect a longing in you for India?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Or for Africa? I think these questions are all around me\u2014in fact that is true for most people. It\u2019s the world we live in. For many of us from elsewhere, there are chunks of life unexamined, chunks of history unrecorded; there are stories that await to be told, shaped, reimagined and recreated; there are experiences that await to be shared and understood. All that comes with us\u2014we don\u2019t come simply as bodies. It is what we are. And this does not apply only to immigrants to North America and Europe. Joyce wrote about Ireland from Europe; Conrad wrote about far-off places and the sea; British writers still obsess about the First World War.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> How does your experience as a Kenyan and Tanzanian figure creatively and philosophically in your work?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Creatively it has been my source of inspiration. It has provided me with characters, scenes, history, and a certain language and rhythm\u2014and a lot of questions. That, of course, has evolved, with my experience as a Canadian and my life in Canada and the United States, and with my university education. Philosophically, if that\u2019s the right word, and if it answers your question, I have found myself operating in a literary and historical near-vacuum. I come from a people who are a minority in India, East Africa, and now Canada. Of course no one is a minority in a truly cosmopolitan society. In Toronto I don\u2019t quite feel as coming from a minority\u2014or I feel that everyone belongs to a certain minority. But culturally, because historically Canada belongs to a European historical and literary tradition, and this is obvious in many ways, I do feel I am operating at the margins. But I should also say that Canada has been by and large the most hospitable to my writing. I believe that non-European histories and cultures will, or should, be considered as part of the new, evolving Canada.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> Would you consider it accurate if one were to say that you are an African?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Yes, and Canadian, and of Indian descent. I try not to dwell on this multiplicity too much. Ultimately others will decide how good I was as any of these. Questions of identity obsess the young. I went through that phase, when I came as a student to North America, and I kept chasing myself, in a manner of speaking. But as you grow older you realize that you will never be able to catch yourself\u2014or narrow down who exactly you are.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> Idi Amin\u2019s repressive rule in Uganda had an impact in the lives of thousands of Indo-Africans in East Africa. How, if at all, did you relate to that political situation existentially?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Not directly. I was away in the US at the time but I always felt a Tanzanian. Idi Amin was an aberration, and all Ugandans were affected by his rule. Thousands were murdered. The Nile, it is said, turned red. But we live currently in a world of so many horrors…<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> Uprooting the self is always a complex affair; how did you navigate the Canadian literary landscape as a new immigrant in Canada; and based on that experience how would you advice a new immigrant who happens to be a professional writer?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> The only way is to write, and to keep writing\u2014if you can. Sometimes it helps to start your own literary outlet. We started a literary magazine in the 1980s, when there were many people from the Caribbean, East Africa, and South Asia who were writing, had something to say, and were coming across a dead end in terms of publishing. The cultural universe, which is liberal in many (and typical) ways, is surprisingly conservative, and often insular and ignorant, about other cultures. (I\u2019ve found engineers and scientists more exposed and liberal towards others.) This is understandable, but it is that world that one has had to negotiate against. It is from there that we hear questions such as, Is so-and-so a truly Canadian writer? (Your Canada is obviously dated, you want to reply.) Or get statements about The ten best works of fiction ever published. (Where and in what languages, you want to ask.)<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> You left the safe sanctuary of the very profitable hard sciences (as a physicist) for the unpredictability of an artistic life. In hindsight it was a great decision. But at the moment you were taking that decision, were you worried?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> Theoretical physics, and any pure science, are not safe sanctuaries actually, because they are not practical. I was<\/i> worried when I left physics. However, my first novel was about to be published, I was confident that it was a good one, and I had almost completed a second novel and a collection of stories. It was time to go. I was not working at the threshold of science, my job was not permanent, and what research I was doing could have been continued by someone else. But what I had to write and create, only I could do.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> Obama is a fellow Kenyan; what do you think of his performance as the first black president of the USA, especially vis-\u00e0-vis Africa?<\/p>\n
M.G.V.:<\/b> We were in tears when he was elected. That shows our naivete\u2014and to be fair, a reflection of our colonial and racial experiences. But America is America, politics is politics, and for me Obama has been a huge disappointment.<\/p>\n
A.E.:<\/b> Thank you for taking the time away from your very hectic schedule to do this; we, at MTLS, appreciate it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A View from the Balcony (Poet, Amatoritsero Ede in conversation with novelist, M.G. Vassanji) Amatoritsero Ede: MG, it is exciting to have you on MTLS. First, do kindly give us an idea of the central \u2018gist\u2019 of your very latest novel, which comes out this October. M.G. Vassanji: The latest […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1742,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-304","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/304","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=304"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/304\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2203,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/304\/revisions\/2203"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=304"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}