Skip to main content

Hermaphroditic Times


Book Review: Spring Flowers, Spring Frost
I began this review at the start of the Arab Spring-that is near a year now- and yet it remains in a state of incompletion. I now think it is fitting that it remains so. Like the times… we have no clue how things will turn out.
And the moment-it is neither here nor there: a transitional phase that is quite out of character with the normal times. This moment cannot be defined by the behavioral traits of a given period and we epileptically grapple for a definition and fail-we don’t know how to quite put it. Albanian author Ismail Kadare is not so confused. He’s been there and he calls it a hermaphroditic moment, or to use the old language of the Albanian people: a bitch and a dog. Kadare’s novel, Spring Flowers, Spring Frost (Random House 2002), attempts to capture this peculiar time when his country, Albania, is in the throes of transition from a manacled communist state to a new-found freedom that turns into a Frankenstein monster with an ancient past.
It may seem trifle late to discuss a book that was written more than a decade ago but with the Arab Spring not quite dying out yet, (it’s been ten months or more) and a few Middle East nations in the heat of a bitch and a dog-Kadare’s novel brings a perspective hitherto unexplored in newspapers. Even the title refers to a Spring that seems to reflect the Arab Spring.
Libya, Syria, Algeria, there are more of them out there, are fighting vigorously for uncertainty. Better that than a corralled certainty. “The world is being reinvented now, by the Internet.” When Kadare wrote that line he would not have imagined the full potent of his statement. Yes, Tunisia, Egypt and Yemen made frantic escapes into unchartered freedoms riding on twitter-ing waves not knowing how to navigate them. Now that they have arrived in their freedoms what next? Should they divvy up their freedoms for a political settlement? Or should they willfully borrow from a mummified past to create a new future or even worse will the long evicted gory traditions of the past come visiting with their calling cards? Like what happens in Kadare’s Spring Flowers, Spring Frost.
In the town of B- Albania, artist Mark Gurabardhi is painting the tip of the iceberg that did the Titanic in and also, his girlfriend in the nude. He works in the City Arts centre where everything is discussed threadbare. In the old days “in the fear of the state, people altered their opinions to fit the official sources.” The Sigurimi, the state security network, kept tabs on people and was quick to shoot down dissent. But now that they were free, Albanians could not be bothered with official opinion and changed their view every day. People whispered about extra special meetings that took place though it hadn’t. “Mark put them (rumours) down initially to the mental muddle fostered by the psychotic atmosphere of the times.” Sometimes the atmosphere is just as stifling as the Communist years.
Mark learns from his girlfriend about the revival of the ancient law of the Kanun. Kanun, the law of vendetta, was prohibited during the Communist era but now it had got a new life and her family was entangled in a blood debt that had been lying dormant for fifty years. And her brother Angelin must take revenge with a single shot. But what Mark had not imagined was how close the Kanun would strike. Angelin’s target is his boss, the director.
Khadre’s play of chapter and counter-chapter aids in weaving myth and folklore into the novel effectively…

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review: An Autobiography Of A Sex Worker by Nalini Jameela

I am 51 years old. And I would like to continue to be a sex worker.” This is how the candid and defiant opening statement in Nalini Jameela’s autobiography in Malayalam, Oru Lymgika-thozhilaliyude Atmakadha, goes. It at once throws a challenge at society’s double standards — harsh on prostitutes and soft on the clients. Nalini Jameela, who is the coordinator of the Kerala Sex Workers’ Forum, reveals her sordid story with no trace of compunction. Nalini was a 24-year-old widow when she entered the profession to feed her two children. At that time she did not think about the repercussions of her act. She writes, “I was earning Rs 4.50 at a tile factory near Trissur. My mother-in-law served me with an ultimatum to either give her five rupees a day to look after my children or leave the house. I recounted my woes to a friend, who introduced me to Rosechechi. Rosechechi promised me Rs 50 if I spent time with a man. The first thought that came to my mind was that my children would be looked...

Kochi Muziris Biennale: Whorled Explorations

London-based artist Hew Locke was in for a bit of shocker when he reached the Kochi-Muziris Biennale 2014 site, Fort Kochi in Kerala. His installation,  Sea Power , was apparently crafted from his imagination of what the historical kingdom of Cochin would have been. Indeed, he had yoked his imagination to that of a 17th century German printmaker. The printmaker had in turn conceived the kingdom of Cochin based on the tales of another. “My work is imagination based on the imagination of an image that was perhaps real. It was double fiction and I thought the prints were elaborate romantic imagery...but I discovered when I arrived in Cochin that this double fiction has elements of reality. People still wear lungis and walk around bare-chested,” says an amazed Locke. Hew Locke’s beaded frieze of mythological and historical figures that gently sway in the wind is a response to the biennial theme, ‘Whorled Exploration’, and suggests blips in the seminal mov­ements of history. Whorled...

SnooTea: Just My Style

(Photographs by Minu Ittyipe) It began on a lark to spiff up my morning cuppa. Oh well, I just wanted a change from what I had been drinking all my life. I am not complaining about the faithful brew that I stir up with tea dust, it does merrily improve with two extra spoonfuls of sugar but I was just plain bored with the regular. My concept of a cup of tea was corralled in the traditional Indian style- coppery coloured liquid topped with plenty of milk and sugar but now there was in me this undeniable thirst for a more delicate bouquet. Tranquilitea, Coonoor Curiously, though grown in our own backyard, few of us have heard of the orthodox leaf tea, forget the Silver Tips, Golden Tips and the White Tea etc.. that quietly find their way to the export market. To make a foray into this relatively unknown terrain, I headed for Tranquilitea, a tea lounge in the Nilgiris, for a cup of “Tippy” tea. On a sober note, you are cautioned not to confuse “Tippy” with the more commonplace “Tipsy” for...