['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is the 245th article in the new series that began in December 2022. Links to previous articles are given below]
Human
beings are frail creatures. Human collectives are no better. And yet,
there are people and groups who we hold to above average standards,
let’s say. Longevity, the kind of work done and consistent adherence to
laudable principles are what generate high expectations.
Consider
an event that is advertised as ‘a meeting place for publishers,
authors, literature and culture fans and personalities from politics and
culture from all over the world’ where ‘people from over 100 countries
come together in a peaceful and secure environment.’ Consider the
organiser of that event claiming to ‘stand for diversity,’ and that it
‘thrives on the diversity and internationality of its exhibitors and
visitors, as well as the exchange among these in an open dialogue.’
Take
note of the fact that the organisers want everyone to obtain from the
event ‘a good experience – regardless of their gender and gender
identity, sexual orientation and sexual identity, disabilities, ethnic
origin, nationality, age, language, religion or world view,’ and that
they ‘do not tolerate any harassment, assault or inappropriate comments
towards our visitors, exhibitors, partners or team members.’
There’s
more. The organization has a self-image and describes it as a forum
where people from over 100 countries can meet each other in peace and
security - despite the current strained world situation, and reiterates
that the event thrives ‘on diversity of opinion and content, as well as
on exchange at eye level.’
It is all about books and I will come
to that. A book fair, in fact, which is claimed to constitute ‘places
of gathering where book people - publishers, authors, readers, as well
as political and cultural representatives - can meet in a secure
framework, even in difficult times as the one we experience globally at
the moment.’
High standards of course but these are almost givens
in the arts or so we would like to believe. Freedom of expression, free
flow of ideas, clashes of opinion, different schools of thought and art
— it’s all cross-fertilisation. Learning. Appreciating others.
Respecting differences. As laid out in the ‘manifesto,’ as described in
vision-mission statements, as detailed in the code of conduct. All in
the public domain. Nothing to hide.
For many reasons, Frankfurter Buchmesse
or the Frankfurt Book Fair is a standard bearer for such events. It is
the world’s largest trade fair for books, simply going by the number of
publishing companies represented.
Then there’s history. It is a
tradition that is more than 500 years old. Apparently, before there was
printing, the general trade fair in Frankfurt was the place to sell
handwritten books. That’s as early as the 12th century.
It is
not just the brag in terms of ideals and purposes (which is not
necessarily unwarranted) but the stature that makes me write this note.
Frankfurter Buchmesse has decided to postpone the conferring of an award to Palestinian author Adania Shibli. Shibli was scheduled to accept the LiBeraturpreis
of the LitProm association on October 20 for ‘Minor Detail.’ It is an
award that honors women writers from the Global South for a work newly
published in German. The book’s English translation, by Elisabeth
Jaquette, was published in 2020 and was shortlisted for the 2020
National Book Award for Translated Literature, and longlisted for the
International Booker Prize the following year.
Those agitating
for the postponement claim that the book was ‘antisemetic,’ which of
course is silly considering that there are no anti semites as barbaric
as Israel (Arabs are Semites, note).
Apparently, Zurich newspaper
Tagesanzeiger had asked, ‘In these times, can a novel that depicts
Israel as a killing machine be honored with awards?’ That’s better than
the antisemite claim, but marginally, for the ‘killing machine’
description certainly fits.
Director of Frankfurter Buchmesse,
Juergen Boos, has condemned ‘the barbaric terror of Hamas against
Israel in the strongest possible terms.’ Who doesn’t? And yet, he goes
on to say that Frankfurter Buchmesse stands in ‘full solidarity at
Israel's side.’
In other words, Boos condones the firing of
white phosphorus, dropping bombs, bulldozing schools, hospitals and
homes, and treating each and every Palestinian as a legitimate target.
But that’s not enough. Boos states that Frankfurter Buchmesse
wants to ‘make Jewish and Israeli voices particularly visible.’ The
victims of Israel’s operations in Gaza and the West Bank have not been
offered the privilege of voice or at least there’s no mention of it.
Someone has bombed the Frankfurter Buchmesse I feel. Juergen Boos would know the name of the terrorist.
Love's austere and lonely offices
The mysteriously enjoined in the middle of nowhere
Reflections on the unimaginable
Jackson Anthony is a book and will be read
A village called Narberth Bookshop
'Irvin' and other one-word poems
Earth pieces Kerala and Sri Lanka
In the land of insomnial poets
When you don't need an invitation, it's home
When the Canadian House of Commons applauded a Nazi...
The importance of not skipping steps
No free passes to the Land of Integrity
Hector Kobbekaduwa is not a building, statue, street or stamp
Rajagala and the Parable of the Panner
Let's show love to Starbucks employees!
Octavio Paz and Arthur C Clarke in the stratosphere
9/11 and the calm metal instrument of Salvador Allende's voice
Whitman, Neruda and things that wait in all things
Thilina Kaluthotage's eyes keep watch
Profit: the peragamankaru of major wars
In loving memory of Carrie Lee (1956-2020)
Mobsters on and off the screen
We're here because we're here because we're here
Sha'Carri Richardson versus and with Sha'Carri Richardson
A stroll with Pragg and Arjun along a boulevard in Baku
Daya Sahabandu ran out of partners but must have smiled to the end
Sapan and voices that erase borders
Problem elephants and problem humans
The 'inhuman' elephant in a human zoo
Ivan Art: Ivanthi Fernando's efforts to align meaning
Let's help Jagana Krishnakumar rebuild our ancestral home
Do you have a friend in Pennsylvania (or anywhere?)
A gateway to illumination in West Virginia
Through strange fissures into magical orchards
There's sea glass love few will see
Re-residencing Lakdasa Wikkramasinha
Poisoning poets and shredding books of verse
The responsible will not be broken
Ownership and tenuriality of the Wissahickon
Did you notice the 'tiny, tiny wayside flowers'?
Gifts, gifting and their rubbishing
Journalism inadvertently learned
Reflections on the young poetic heart
Wordaholic, trynasty and other portmanteaus
The 'Loku Aiya' of all 'Paththara Mallis'
Subverting the indecency of the mind
Character theft and the perennial question 'who am I?'
Saji Coomaraswamy and rewards that matter
Seeing, unseeing and seeing again
Alex Carey and the (small) matter of legacy
The insomnial dreams of Kapila Kumara Kalinga
The clothes we wear and the clothes that wear us (down)
Every mountain, every rock, is sacred
Manufacturing passivity and obedience
Sanjeew Lonliyes: rawness unplugged, unlimited
In praise of courage, determination and insanity
The relative values of life and death
Poetry and poets will not be buried
Reunion Peradeniya (1980-1990)
Sorrowing and delighting the world
Encounters with Liyanage Amarakeerthi
Letters that cut and heal the heart
A forgotten dawn song from Embilipitiya
The soft rain of neighbourliness
Reflections on waves and markings
Respond to insults in line with the Akkosa Sutra
The right time, the right person
The silent equivalent of a thousand words
Crazy cousins are besties for life
The lost lyrics of Premakeerthi de Alwis
Consolation prizes in competitions no one ever wins
Blackness, whiteness and black-whiteness
Inscriptions: stubborn and erasable
Deveni: a priceless one-word koan
Recovering run-on lines and lost punctuation
'Wetness' is not the preserve of the Dry Zone
On sweeping close to one's feet
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
To be an island like the Roberts...
Debts that can never be repaid in full
An island which no flood can overwhelm
A melody faint and yet not beyond hearing
Heart dances that cannot be choreographed
Remembering to forget and forgetting to remember
Authors are assassinated, readers are immortal
It is good to be conscious of nudities
Saturday slides in after Monday and Sunday somersaults into Friday
There's a one in a million and a one in ten
Kumkum Fernando installs Sri Lanka in Coachella, California
Hemantha Gunawardena's signature
Architectures of the demolished
The exotic lunacy of parting gifts
Who the heck do you think I am?
Those fascinating 'Chitra Katha'
So how are things in Sri Lanka?
The sweetest three-letter poem
Teams, team-thinking, team-spirit and leadership
The songs we could sing in lifeboats when we are shipwrecked
Jekhan Aruliah set a ball rolling in Jaffna
Awaiting arrivals unlike any other
Teachers and students sometimes reverse roles
Colombo, Colombo, Colombo and so forth
The slowest road to Kumarigama, Ampara
Some play music, others listen
Mind and hearts, loquacious and taciturn
I am at Jaga Food, where are you?
On separating the missing from the disappeared
And intangible republics will save the day (as they always have)
The circuitous logic of Tony Muller
Rohana Kalyanaratne, an unforgettable 'Loku Aiya'
Mowgli, the Greatest Archaeologist
Figures and disfigurement, rocks and roses
Sujith Rathnayake and incarcerations imposed and embraced
Some stories are written on the covers themselves
A poetic enclave in the Republic of Literature
Landcapes of gone-time and going-time
The best insurance against the loud and repeated lie
So what if the best flutes will not go to the best flautists?
There's dust and words awaiting us at crossroads and crosswords
A song of terraced paddy fields
Of ants, bridges and possibilities
From A through Aardvark to Zyzzyva
Words, their potency, appropriation and abuse
Who did not listen, who's not listening still?
If you remember Kobe, visit GOAT Mountain
The world is made for re-colouring
No 27, Dickman's Road, Colombo 5
Visual cartographers and cartography
Ithaca from a long ago and right now
Lessons written in invisible ink
The amazing quality of 'equal-kindness'
The interchangeability of light and darkness
Sisterhood: moments, just moments
Chess is my life and perhaps your too
Reflections on ownership and belonging
The integrity of Nadeesha Rajapaksha
Signatures in the seasons of love
To Maceo Martinet as he flies over rainbows
Fragrances that will not be bottled
Colours and textures of living heritage
Countries of the past, present and future
Books launched and not-yet-launched
The sunrise as viewed from sacred mountains
Isaiah 58: 12-16 and the true meaning of grace
The age of Frederick Algernon Trotteville
Live and tell the tale as you will
Between struggle and cooperation
Neruda, Sekara and literary dimensions
Paul Christopher's heart of many chambers
Calmness gracefully cascades in the Dumbara Hills
Serendipitous amber rules the world
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