To craft compelling narratives, a writer must be intimately acquainted with the dance of conflicts and paradoxes. As Sri Lankans, we thrive amidst a landscape abundant with such complexities, offering an endless wellspring for crafting compelling narratives. The more conflicts and paradoxes we have, the richer our narratives become. Having been a colony for decades and invaded by three different nations from time to time, we have inherited characteristics, cultures, and ideologies from each, mixed with Eastern mysticism.
Despite being happy-go-lucky islanders influenced by the Buddha’s preaching of ‘living in the present moment,’ we Sri Lankans find ourselves embraced by all sorts of paradoxes in our surroundings. It’s not uncommon to see a limousine on one side of the road and an elephant walking down the other side. The presence of a ‘Peretha Thattuwa’ in a corner of a posh neighbourhood like Colombo 7 doesn’t surprise us at all. We are a nation that can make jokes and create hundreds of memes soon after any disaster, regardless of its size.
Although the day-to-day life of an average Sri Lankan is filled with hyper-realistic absurdity, it’s baffling how few of our writers have delved into these paradoxes in literature and crafted narratives, particularly in contemporary works. Especially in English literature, we’ve seen very few writers who were able to move beyond war stories. Nevertheless, Shehan Karunatilake stands out as one such witty writer, with a sharp and clever sense of humor evident in his debut novel ‘Chinaman,’ where he skillfully portrays a drunkard uncle who is also a cricket fanatic through amusing wordplay, satire, and keen observations of contemporary society.
His second novel, ‘Seven Moons of Mali Almeida,’ which won the Booker Prize last year, has now been translated into 30 different languages, capturing the essence of the Sri Lankan narrative. For the past one and a half years, he has been journeying with his ‘Booker’ around the world, sharing his experiences. I had the chance to listen to his experiences at the Ceylon Literary Festival in an interesting forum titled ‘Is Your Booker Bigger Than Mine,’ moderated by Savithri Rodrigo, where he regaled the audience with his wit, pouring laughter into the room.
Karunatilake reminisces about the moment his name was announced as the winner, recalling, “I was on this shortlist. But you know, it’s a dice roll. It depends. You go there expecting anything. And Romesh Gunasekara, the great Sri Lankan writer, told me, ‘just drink one glass of wine because if you drink too much, you’re going to make a fool of yourself if you lose.
And a bigger fool if you win.’ And so I took that advice. And yeah, I thought someone else’s name would get called out, and I could go home and get some new dress. But my name got called out. I went and hugged Neil MacGregor and Queen Camilla. She’s Queen Consort then, she’s Queen now. And then I made this speech. I was given one minute. I obviously took longer than that. I haven’t listened that speech yet. But I managed to speak in Sinhala and Tamil, which I was quite proud about before they shut me down.”
Moment of pride
Last year was a whirlwind for Karunathilake as he journeyed around the world with his Booker prize. ‘It’s sort of like being in a band and taking the tour on the road. It’s better than it was. Last year, I hardly saw my family; I was on planes and with microphones, singing the same song around the world,’ he reflected.
Now, things have calmed down as he passed the torch to Paul Lynch, the new Booker winner, last November. ‘Incidentally, his Prophet song, which I started reading, is a tremendous work. It’s about Dublin, it’s about Ireland becoming a dystopia. A week before he won it, Dublin was on fire. And a week before I won it, Sri Lanka was imploding, and there were petrol queues and all of that. So I think maybe this is a sign that you’re placing a bet for the next Booker. Look at what country is on fire and if anyone is nominated from there,’ Karunatilake said with his trademark wit.
Karunatilake’s words reveal a poignant truth about the contemporary political landscape: amidst chaos, noise, and conflict, attention and limelight are often garnered. In a post-forum meeting, I further explored Karunathilake’s insights on this matter.
“Conflict is what makes a book a story. If there’s no conflict, it’s just a happy story, and it’s a bit more difficult. Forget winning awards, a writer’s primary goal is to captivate the imagination of the audience. In the Western literary and cinematic landscape, much focus has been placed on conflicts that involve the West, such as World War II or the Vietnam War. Stories from regions like South Sudan or Yemen often receive less attention. This skewed focus tends to portray conflicts in a simplistic manner, with clear distinctions between good and bad,” Karunatilake said.
In his analysis, the conflicts in our part of the world often manifest as more intricate and multifaceted. Ambiguity shrouds the identities of protagonists and antagonists, blurring the lines between good and bad. For instance, in his novel “Seven Moons of Mali Almeida” there exists no clear distinction between morally upright and morally corrupt characters, mirroring the intricate dynamics of real-life conflicts.
Shedding light on recent years, Karunatilake highlighted the significant transformation occurring in the literary landscape. He emphasised that formerly, recipients of prestigious awards like the Booker Prizes and Pulitzer Prizes were predominantly white individuals. However, with recent triumphs such as Marlon James’s victory and the recognition bestowed upon authors like Rushdie and Arundhati, there has been a notable shift in perspective. “When they look at our parts of the world, these are the things that, I suppose, interest them,” Karunathilake added.
Shaping perceptions
Emphasising the importance of writers telling their own stories, Karunathilake highlighted that only through such narratives can the socio-political-cultural landscapes of their countries be accurately reflected. He said that whether one chooses to write about sports, armed conflicts, or even small love stories, it should be entirely up to the individual writer. Karunathilake said that while there may be much deliberation on how countries are perceived, such contemplation is not particularly useful when in the act of writing. Instead, the focus should be on telling stories for one another.
Reflecting on the engagement with countries, whether through sports or news, Karunathilake noted that it often shapes perceptions. For instance, he pointed out that while Afghanistan may be primarily associated with cricket and war in the global consciousness, there are numerous other stories from the country waiting to be told, reflecting its rich culture and history. However, he stressed that it is the responsibility of local writers to uncover and share these narratives.
In a world overwhelmed with celebrity status and global recognition, Karunatilake remains grounded in his love for the written word. Amidst a whirlwind of public appearances, workshops, and interviews for the past one and half years of time, Karunathilake’s passion for reading and writing remains unwavering.
When asked about his journey and interests as a writer, Karunathilake humbly said, “Just reading and writing, still the same. Reading and writing and getting away from all these distractions of talking and interviews and workshops and all that.” Despite the newfound fame of his book, which has been translated into 30 languages and sold around the world, Karunathilake remains committed to his craft, prioritising the solitary act of writing above all else.
Challenges
Reflecting on the challenges of balancing newfound fame with his intrinsic identity as a writer, Karunathilake shared, “I don’t accept this celebrity thing, man. I’m just a writer. If I wanted to be a movie star or cricketer, then I would have. Even music, I play the bass, I don’t sing or play guitar. I like being a bass player.”
Acknowledging the inevitable adjustments that come with literary success, Karunatilake expressed his desire to return to a more secluded existence, away from the spotlight. “You want the book to be famous, of course, let the book be sold and read. I’m happy with that. But I don’t particularly want to be in this whole scene of your face on magazines and all of them,” he remarked.
Despite the challenges of navigating newfound fame, Karunathilake remains optimistic about the future of his writing. “I think it’ll settle down, and I’ll get back to normal. It’s only a book, and hopefully, I’ll get back to writing and be more productive. I mean, it took seven years to complete my second book because I was juggling family and career, but now, at least, I can hopefully focus on the writing and maybe produce something quicker.” he stated.
As he looks forward to immersing himself once again in the creative process, Karunatilake’s unwavering dedication to his craft serves as a testament to the enduring power of storytelling in an ever-evolving world.
