Flower
is the Adventure
Eastern Crisis Continues
On the new book published by Monsoon Editions
Title : Third world-Post-Socialist poetry
Edited by Lana Derkac and Thachom Poyil Rajeevan.
(one)
The beautiful poem Grass from Croatia by Davor
Salat tries to describe the new position of its
writer in the world. It is done in a heart-rending
way.
I forgot you
in the grass
on the succulent autumn
cloak
now you are hiding
from vagabonds
and quiet knives.
The poem opens like a crystal; none needs to
interpret it. But it is not easy to understand
it word by word; we can only experience the poem.
And that is the real worth of poetry. Nothing
is more dangerous to poetry than theorizing that
poetry is to be a mere carrier of ideas or messages
and that aesthetics would not be useful and illuminating
to the world. Words are a great attainment of
mankind; words combine in umpteen rhymes and patterns
and give us burning, cooling, nostalgic, and,
what not, effects. I see a rose and sing on it;
fide Erken of Turkey sees another rose flower
and sings; Thachom Poyil Rajeevan sees a rose
flower and sings; perhaps we three sees he same
rose flower and sings different songs; we see
the same flower at different times and sing different
songs. There comes the inquisitor and asks: where
is religion? Where is politics? We cannot help
it. Only rose is there. See the rose in the way
we want it in a given state. Or even do not see
it; ignore it. Still it is there; life is there,
poetry is there; aesthetics is there, poetry is
there.
And see what Slavko Mihalic has written in his
The Exile’s Return:
He is the ruler of the country which once exiled
him,
He’s not a king or the king’s minister,
he just does what he wants,
Watching from the window the crowds of the deluded
roam the streets,
Himself wise and handsome since he’s free
of purpose
Yes. Now he is like a child and also like a tomb………
I hope it might be an enviable state.
But look at the line,
But the greatest adventure is a flower in a glass
of water.
From Slovenia, Primoz Cucnik writes with spell-bound
optimism:
But soon we will return, back to our everyday
chores,
In our narrow houses overlooking blocks of flats,
Glorious skyscraper landscapes and rubbish heaps
in the background.
(Two)
When I got the mail from Muse India telling me
to buy the book edited by Lana Derkac and Thachom
Poyil Rajeevan and published by Monsoon Editions,
I immediately contacted Thachom Poyil. Next day,
he was ready at the University with a copy for
me. But I could not delve deep into the book,
which, by its content and adjectives and background,
deserves special reading. Therefore, I request
my readers not to consider this write-up as a
review of the book. It is just to mention the
publishing of this book and also to tell myself
the importance of such a book that I write this.
I tell myself that this is a book of poems from
the region that gave Poetics to the world. It
is also from the region that gave a new social
system based on equality and equitable distribution
of wealth. It is from Macedonia, the place from
where Alexander set out for the conquest of the
world. A new book is launched to conquer the sensitive
minds of the world with all good intentions, although
the editor, Thachom Poyil Rajeevan declares that
these were written in the “poets’
uncompromising opposition to inhuman power centres
and authoritarianism”. It must be true because
I have read ( and also loved) many poets, like
Blaga Dimitrova of Bulgaria who fought for the
withering of the socialist state of Bulgaria,
while at the same time writing beautiful poems
for the sake of the suffering men. This might
seem contradictory, but it is true. At least the
poems I read give me this impression.
The teacher of Alexander was a very studious person
called Aristotle. Karl Copek has written a beautiful
narrative of Alexander’s confessions to
his conquests and his justification of the wars
in his very famous Apocryphal Stories. Alexander’s
justification is that he had to conquer for the
sake of his tiny kingdom; after the conquest of
the neighbouring kingdoms, he had to save his
new possessions, again for the sake of his tiny
kingdom; this necessitated further conquests;
this again necessitated further invasions and
annexations.
So, the counter evolution at last brought freedom
and liberty in the Third World, and so,. Post-Socialist
poems are written.
Apart from these political moorings, perhaps unwanted,
I must tell myself that some of the poems I glanced
and read give me pleasure and insight. Freedom
is to have the right to act according to one’s
own conscience. Even a loaf of much needed bread
would not suffice to compensate the loss of this
freedom, freedom to have one’s own moments:
poet Arian Leka would express it in his poem “Alone”
in a peculiar way; with no one to coming behind,
we are free to enjoy the wine in two glasses,
one with the red horse label and the other with
the white horse label; it is alright, but the
poet feels that there is none to share his the
wine with him. Everybody has begun to delve in
his own self-created cave. I am not going to say
that Gulab Archipelago was a bad book; I indeed
believe that even bad books can coexist with good
books. The point is the absence of social extroversion,
at least in the minimal level. When food is denied,
we can fight for it; it is political struggle;
when sharing of one’s mind is denied, what
sort of struggle could be fought by anyone?
( three)
Glancing at the biographical notes of the poets,
I find that they were all born around 1960s. They
have certainly their loss-awareness in the societies
they were born into. Earlier during the revolutions,
it was hunger and political casteism that endangered
the lives of their fathers and forefathers. Sure,
they had fought and won; they also lost because
when they attained the right to food and freedom
from hunger, they lost a freedom they thought
the other people of the world enjoy. This sense
of loss is certainly genetic. This was the real
Eastern Crisis. And now in the new unrest expressed
in many poems the eastern crisis continues.
( four)
I must recommend this beautifully presented book
of poetry to my enlightened poetry readers. I
am really proud to have a copy of this book. And
these moorings are the result of just half an
hour of glancing through the volume. God knows,
had I had much more time and patience, I would
have written an entirely different essay in appreciation.
But alas! The title of the book led me to my pattern
of writing!
Editor
1St February 2007.
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