I'm unable to post much here at the moment because I've been commissioned to write a book about a series of books.
It's a real challenge and possibly the hardest writing I've ever done, maybe because it isn't 'autobiographical'. In fact, so immersed am I that the only reading I do is to scan my morning newspaper, read the Guardian online and try to deal with the comments that appear here, and the 20/30 emails I get every day.
One, from John McGlynn, is immediately below this preamble.
Until the exchange of a few emails this year, I've had no contact with John and only known him from afar. I knew he'd been in Indonesia for much longer that I, since 1976, and was co-founder of the Lontar Foundation. I know a lot more now thanks to a recent interview in the Globe.
His Indonesian is also far better than mine; it has to be judging by Lontar's mission statement.
The Lontar Foundation of Jakarta is the only publisher in the world to have as its primary goal the promotion of knowledge about Indonesia through Indonesian literature in translation. Since its founding in 1987, Lontar has concentrated its efforts on creating a 'market' for Indonesian literature abroad through the steady publication of Indonesian literary titles in English translation and through public events – readings, educational programs, conferences, tours, and other activities.
Note the date. The literature promoted by Lontar is 'old', much of it predating the New Order of Suharto, a period when books were banned and burned and authors such as Mochtar Lubis were jailed.
Things are better now, sort of.
Twelve years after 'reformasi', which many, including this writer, thought would remove the vestiges of colonialism – Dutch, Japanese, Sukarnoist, Suhatoist – there are still entrenched forces who haven't grasped the notion that true democracy depends on freedom of expression rather than the banning of books.
As the actor (Sir) Ben Kingsley has said, "To be unexpressed is the road to unhappiness," something that the editor of the Post, Enda M. Bayuni agrees with.
That's true for me and has also proved true for many young Indonesians. The internet is the tool of choice for many, the "digerati" is the word used by Anand Mathai, managing editor of Time Out Jakarta magazine, to describe tweeters and we bloggers.
As I noted a year ago, several of us have seen our ethereal thoughts in hyperspace given permanence on paper. One blogger on my list of links, Tasa Nugraza Barley, seems to have turned into a proper journalist for the Globe where he can write articles about – erm – young Indonesian writers.
And that is what I find encouraging: Indonesians are gradually becoming more 'sophisticated' in framing their thoughts and sharing them with an audience. From teen-lit – there are 97 listed novels here to chick-lit, known as sastra wangi (fragrant literature) in Indonesian.
Some folk are snooty (sombong) about these easy reads, but more 'literary' writers such as Mona Sylviana (and I) disagree.
Mona aims to dispel such dismissive and sweeping stereotypes, and their non-chick-lit writings will be showcased in a new short story collection that reflects what editor and publisher John H. McGlynn describes as a post-New Order willingness to confront “societal problems head on”.
Yes, fiction is good for you. It enhances a world of complexity which instant news cannot. One has to pause for thought, and such contemplation is civilised, whereas knee-jerk reactions tend to create divisiveness.
One of Mona's stories translated by John McG., about a librarian, can be read here.
I do miss the neighbourhood public libraries I used wherever I lived in the UK. They were somewhere to discover interesting authors, to do research or simply somewhere to while away a few peaceful hours.
Here in Indonesia they are few and far between, so it is encouraging to hear of these two initiatives.
Kiswanti, the wife of a construction worker and mother of two, did not complete junior high school yet dreamed about spreading her love for the written word in a country where access to books is not readily available. She has opened Warung Baca Lebak Wangi (Warabal), in Bogor, West Java.
She said that opening her own library has made her very happy. “All my hard work has paid off,” she said. There are at least 7,450 books in Warabal, from children’s stories to school textbooks. Kiswanti still buys books with her own money, but she now regularly receives book donations from different organizations.
Too often we hear of bad cops. But, hey, there are also some good ones.
In a bid to win hearts and minds in the local community, since January police in Penjaringan subprecinct, North Jakarta, have run a library, a pilot project built in cooperation with the Kick Andy Foundation, from the station building.
“We hope the public, particularly low-income people, will benefit from the library,” said Penjaringan Police deputy chief Adj. Comr. Febriansyah.
He added the facility was also expected to serve as a “source of knowledge” for police officers.
Quite.
And now for John's email to me.
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Stupid Is As Stupid Does (2)
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