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Friday, 5 November 2010

Writing, the art of old and the ease of the new times

Nick Twinamatsiko, the author of "Till the promised land and other Pilgrimage Poems.", Jesse's Jewel and Chwezi Code, probes why inspite of the developement in writing and its accessories like the word processers and editorial programs, many of today's writers have not attained a quality as that of many earlier writers. I once pondered over this and can vaguely remember what came to mind.
1. Earlier writers gave more attention to detail. The impressions and how they brought them out were important to them. A brief autobiography of an early writer can easily be found included in the Penguin classic edition of his book, speak of the attention writers gave their work.
2. Writing and art was a profession then and not a means of quick money. It was an art which commanded respect and still should for it's adept ability to influence.
3. Imagination was a very important tool and was not despised or feared as it is today. Infact its only those without imagination that submit to oppressive leadership. A dictatorial system will always look to stiffle imaginative minds. Most likely, a person under oppression transfers his pain to imaginative circumstances to go through it.
4. To build a great imagination, one must cultivate it in solitude and also in good, engaging conversation. Wole Soyinka, Ngugu Wa'Thionga, Chinua Achebe, C.S Lewis and Arthur Tolkein were men of this nature. By day they committed to their writing and the inspiration of   the typical daily occurrences of the African village lifestyle, reactions, little and big emotions and nature, while in the evening, they met to discuss their 'imaginations' over a drink at the local pub. These meetings birthed the famous books, The Chronicals of Narnia by Lewis and The trilogy of the rings by Tolkein.
To say the least, these aspects of writing are shuddered upon today but by the determined writer can be created and thrived upon, then maybe, just maybe, we will relive great writings in this century.

A spur of the moment and a conversation with three little men...

After a mixture of sleepless nights, emotions, anticipations and that kind of activity, I am finally recovering my stability and perceiving things I often miss like the prancing of children, the moonlight, excursion and now a remarkable view of water, flashes of lightning and lights dotting the darkness. The air still, cool and fresh. On the spur of the moment I left home on an excursion. I am enjoying and loving it. Quite interesting is the conversation of 8, 5 and 4 year old boys...

Help: a door has slammed, that must be the wind. Emma, where's the wind from.
8: it was from that side (pointing and then with a robust air of immense confidence and certainty ends) because my senses are positive.

8 to 6: do you know what this (shows 6 something) is?
6: yes I do. It is (With confidence and not pausing in his speech) I don't know. (continues his meal with indifference)

6: at the academy, only teachers eat fish.
8: (bragging) me they gave me fish soup one time.

4 to me: for you who do you sleep with?

Me:....think....think....(silence....curtain fades)
6: at the academy, only teachers eat fish.
8: me they gave me fish soup one time.

4 to me: for you who do you sleep with?

Me:....think....think....