How lucrative is it to be a writer in Nigeria?

This is just what Henry Akubuiro wonders in the Sunday Sun and basically arrives at the conclusion that it is not. Why that should be a surprise, we don't know. From an article we read not too long ago in the Independent called Pulped Fiction (in April 2007) the average writer in the UK (if you remove the superstars from the list makes money "insufficient for stale bread for breakfast and a tarpaulin for shelter." Read it here.

Getting on with the story, Henry Akubuiro starts the article by saying, "... More than other artists from the arts, creative writers have brought more joy to Nigeria, with literary giants like Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka, to mention a few, winning international renown and prizes, having their bestsellers translated into many foreign languages, and thereby promoting our cultural heritage ... Compared to the Nigerian musician or actor, the Nigerian writer, despite his intellectual edge, is taking the backseat as far as financial fortunes are concerned."

Further down the article he continues, "... Nigerian publishers are not helping matters, too. For most of them, their work stops at the point when the books are rolled out from the press. They do little or none of promoting and marketing their authors. A few of them who attempt doing this only rely on book reviews on newspaper arts pages instead of advertising their books as is the norm in the western world."

And more revealingly, he quotes Hyacinth Obunseh, currently assistant secretary of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) and doubles as the CEO of Hybun, a publishing outlet that has published many new Nigerian writers, who says that the reason "our writers (are) not making money (is due) to the fact that publishers themselves are not making money."

His is the conclusion of the pessimist: "Judging from the foregoing, the creative writer in Nigeria is only a few steps removed from becoming an endangered species." This is, indeed, sad considering how Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart has sold 10 million copies worldwide (but is, reportedly, 'banned' from entering this country though it has been used for literature text by several schools for years. Go figure. This is Malaysia. Given this aggressive anti-intellectualism, is it a surprise that no Malaysian University is in the top 200 in the world?)

Full story: http://www.sunnewsonline.com/webpages/features/literari/2007/nov/18/literari-18-11-2007-001.htm

Life after the first fruit

I have always been intrigued by Jeanette Winterson, firstly by her book titles -- Oranges are not the only fruit, Boating for Beginners, Sexing the Cherry, etc -- and secondly by the fact that they are not huge tomes. Still, I have not read her. Sharon would say, that's because I don't like to read women writers. I did think about that. The last women writer I read was Diane Setterfield. I did enjoy The Thirteenth Tale. But do I consider the sex of the author before I set out to read a book? I don't think so. Surely not at the conscious level, though pseudo-Freudians may disagree.

But that's not what this is about. I was reading Jeanette Winterson's article in The Guardian earlier this month. She starts: 'It is impossible to begin at the beginning. Any scientist can tell you what happened in the first three seconds after the Big Bang, but none can say for sure what happened in the three seconds previous ... So it is with fiction.'

We glibly throw about theories on creative writing. Can it be taught, can it be learnt? I belong to the school that says it cannot be taught, but it can be learnt, given the right motivation and environment. Yes, it is about going within and pulling out that illusive rabbit, so to speak. Strangely, you only know what happens after the rabbit is pulled out. The writer will, in all probability, not be able to explain how exactly it happened, or when precisely it did. But it does not matter (except for those trying to learn your 'magic', and the harder they try the more difficult it will be for them). 'The fact is that before something happens there is no knowing what is happening ...' says Jeanette Winterson.

Jeanette Winterson says further on: in The PowerBook (2000), I wrote: "I can change the story. I am the story." This was because I had been thinking about how much better it might be to read ourselves as fictional narratives, instead of as a bloated CV of chronological events. Once we surrender ourselves to the tyranny of facts, it is difficult to re-find freewill.

I often have had people walk into the shop, bellowing pompously, declaring that they 'don't read fiction', as if it is something done by lower beings. I remain silent, but in my mind, I think, 'How sad.'

A short while ago I picked up the latest Orhan Pamuk book in English, Other Colours. Coincidently the first essay in the book, The Implied Author, is also about his life as a novelist. 'In order to be happy, I must have my daily dose of literature,' he writes. 'In this I am no different from ... (a diabetic who needs) an injection everyday (to survive) ... I have sometimes even entertained the thought that I was fully dead and trying to breathe some life back into my corpse with literature.'

But like Winterson he is unable to describe the three seconds before the Big Bang either except that 'we surrender to this mysterious captain who has no idea where he is bound.' Like Ulysses? 'For what is a novel,' he continues further on, 'but a story that fills its sails with these winds ...'

'For thirty years I have spent ten hours in a room, sitting at my desk.' It is a wonderful essay, quite worth the price of admission for the entire book if you, like Pamuk, must have your dose of literature each day in order to be happy.

http://books.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,2204212,00.html

Thai, Arab, Burmese, Kenyan and Japanese reading and writing

The literary pages on the internet in the last fortnight has been about the usual gripe about reading all over again, from all over the world. Here are a few of them. First in Thailand, The Nation reports Publishers and Booksellers Association of Thailand (PUBAT) president Risuan Aramcharoen as saying that, according to a survey conducted by the association in conjunction with the Thai Health Promotion Foundation, the Thai reading habit is to be way behind that of its neighbours. The report says that the Thais read only two books a year while Vietnamese read 60 and Singaporeans 45! (We don't think these are typos because they are mentioned twice in the article and average means every adult, youth and infant!) Where do they come up with these numbers?! If an average Vietnamese reads 60 books then the avid reader in that country should be reading over 200 to 250 books a year! Oh, come on.

A European Union report on reading habits found the Czech's averaged 16 books a year, the highest in Europe and probably in the world. Do Vietnamese and Singaporeans read three to four times more than that? Where the hell does the PUBAT president get his figures from? Bet he doesn't read and has no idea how long it takes to read a book. The same probably applies to the newspaper reporter who wrote the story. How glibly people throw numbers about. http://nationmultimedia.com/2007/10/18/headlines/headlines_30052875.php

Then there was the story about the Arabic writing debate as reported in the New Statesman. In his latest book, Why Are the Arabs Not Free ? Moustapha Safouan brings up the question of the type of Arabic writers should use. Apparently, the disparity between written and spoken Arabic is so great that writers can’t decide which to use. If he were to use the vernacular, it would be all but impossible for him to include sophisticated arguments and deep thoughts. But if he were to use the more formal written language he runs the risk of sounding pompous and rhetorical and, probably, will fail to reach the masses given the high level of illiteracy in the Arab world.

This is an old argument and it is also taking place in every country with a language police. We have heard it before. Some insist that there is only one way Bahasa can be written (though they have done several somersaults and back-flips and u-turns in the past fifty years and will probably continue to do so in the future) and everyone else not caring. Guess who will win? Are people writing in dialect incapable of projecting sophisticated emotions and deep thoughts? This appears like another excuse for keeping writing and reading in the hands of the elite. The inquisition ended in Europe several centuries ago but the debates appear to be still alive in many other parts of the world. http://www.newstatesman.com/200710180049

Then in Burma, 'Scratching poems on cell floors, or making ink from the brick powder of the walls, Burmese writers have managed to continue writing despite imprisonment and censorship,' Aida Edemariam reports in the Guardian

Yes, the feature is corny, mawkishly romantic and melodramatic to the max - but that's simply another example of 'past-colonial' writing for you. (She should sell her story to Hollywood. They love that kind of shit.) We all agree that it is a cruel and repressive regime but there is no need to get all gooey and mushy about it. Still, if you manage to get past all that, there are some interesting (and disturbing) facts in the article.

'International PEN, the global writer's association is currently campaigning for the release of nine writers serving sentences ranging from seven to 21 years. Aung Than and Zeya Aung, who wrote a book of verses called Daung Mann (or The Pride of the Peacock) received sentences of 19 years apiece last June for writing "anti-government poems'. Their printer received 14 years, and their distributor seven.

'The censorship office's 11 guidelines for what cannot be printed still include "anything that might be harmful to national solidarity and unity ... any incorrect ideas which do not accord with the times ... [and] any descriptions which, though factually correct, are unsuitable because of the time or the circumstance of their writing ...' (That sounds awfully familiar for some reason. Was there something like it in Amir's book?)

'Yet the regime has not been able to dent the liveliness of Burma's literary culture. Because of a system of education (that) runs through the monasteries, literacy levels - unlike in many similarly totalitarian states in the developing world - are high. The educational system, which forces the brightest high-school graduates into medicine, is also gender-blind ...’ (Well, that is good news at least.) http://books.guardian.co.uk/print/0,,330945136-118740,00.html

Then in Kenya, the debate has shifted to the quality of reading materials, the tired discussion on whether Kenyans read or do not read. Ms Muthoni Garland, a writer turned publisher, believes Kenyans love reading but there is lack of good reading materials from local writers. She says some (local) books are so appalling that few would spend their hard-earned money on them ... "While there are many good oral story-tellers who can captivate and entertain an audience, we are challenged when it comes to writing stories ..." Most publishing companies merely churn out textbooks. http://www.eastandard.net/archives/?mnu=details&id=1143976395&catid=316

And, finally, in Japan literary magazines, the 'home' of pure literature, are at a turning point. 'The magazines are welcoming young novelists as well as writers of entertaining works, and they are also opening up to talented people in other fields, including playwrights, film directors and illustrators ...' the report from Ashahi Simbun says. http://www.asahi.com/english/Herald-asahi/TKY200710200056.html

Obviously we do not live alone in this world.