Ladies, Gentlemen, Writers, Poets and Others

Well we’re glad it is all over - the gouging, the spitting, the scratching and the biting. We have called each other names, made threatening noises, yes and we hate to say it-there have been a few lewd gestures. In the final analysis, it has come down to arm wrestling contests and scuffles here and there. A process which began in the gloaming at the Galleface, watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean, has finally ended. No more conference calls, no more furious emailing, no more rushing around, trails of paper fluttering in our wake. What on earth will we do with our lives now, we shudder to think.

As a jury, we would like pay a final collective tribute to the Gratiaen Trust – to its founder, Michael Ondaatje and to its current chairman, Tissa Jayatilaka – for giving us this unique privilege of reading the turbulent, tender soul of this country and feeling the pulse of our diverse peoples. We pay tribute to each and every applicant, each of whom has sought to evoke that which often cannot be spoken, to elicit that which cannot easily be called.

The process of judging has brought together three very different personalities, with strikingly different views and interests, one subtle, one forthright and myself soft and utterly malleable. Two judges and a chair, sometimes chairperson, very occasionally a chairman, but usually just a putuwa. What has been invigorating is that we have tried to work and to think together, to persuade and agree, to listen and to learn. Sensitivity and humour have in their turn led us towards compromise and consensus. This has been our guiding star, hopefully we have sailed in the right direction.

Disagreement there has always been, how could there not be. However, we have tried hard to do something much more difficult, to agree even when we disagree and to talk things out. Occasionally, after a lot of shouting, we have even seen the other person’s point of view. It all depends of course on who shouts loudest and goes on longest. Stamina as they say is everything.

The blossoming of literature in this country has seen the emergence of experimentation with literary forms and genres. It has reached the level that we now need to reconsider the concept of what constitutes literature. As judges we all feel that serious thought should be given to formulating a new set of guidelines to evaluate this outpouring.

1) Is it really fair to have to evaluate poetry against a novel or a drama. Should there perhaps be separate prizes for novels ? for poetry ? for drama? Where do memoirs and translations fit in?

2)  A common editing format should perhaps be laid down for all candidates to follow. This will save time, prevent confusion and it will make life so much easier for everyone.

3) If the literature is not up to the judges' standard perhaps we should have the freedom not to shortlist it.

4) In today's context personal principles of honour, ethics, trust and common decency are being compromised on a daily basis. We can no longer take for granted that people will conform to the spirit of the Gratiaen. Clear strictures should be laid down regarding ethics and procedure.

As for the judging process itself, we would also like to suggest changes which could improve it further. Perhaps there should be a confidentiality clause. Conversations repeated, comments passed and opinions held can be tremendously damaging if taken out of context. We must allow the judges the freedom to be themselves without fear.

It may be the right time for the Gratiaen to go a step further than they did this time and seek an international judge with established literary credentials to sit on the panel A complete outsider would be able to see our tiny little world with much greater objectivity and detachment than we could or ever would do.

By bringing the world to Sri Lanka, there is also the chance that we could take Sri Lanka to the world. In this context, we might recall the role played by Graham Greene in obtaining an international publisher for the creator of Malgudi, the great Indian writer, R.K. Narayan. This perhaps is the next challenge for English literature in Sri Lanka.

As a panel, we have not had the slightest unease about awarding the Gratiaen to a poet. We believe this is a sign of the blossoming and maturing of English literature in Sri Lanka. As in the great politically engaged poetic traditions of Ireland, South America and Africa, here in Sri Lanka too, poetry has become a powerful vehicle. In this context free verse has become a devastating medium and metaphor for conveying the anguish of loss and the immediacy of suffering in a climate of social strife and stratification. If anything, we are surprised that a work of poetry has not won earlier.

We believe that Sri Lankan writing in English has come of age and that as an audience and readership you are mature enough to respond positively to the dilemma we faced as judges. In the interests of honesty and transparency we would like to share our thinking with you. We hope you will understand, forgive - and ultimately applaud - us. If you don’t, please don’t throw the glasses, we have to return them tonight. If you would like to applaud, kindly place the glasses aside before you clap. Those who are seen clapping the hardest will definitely be offered a refill.

Let us bare all, our thoughts that is, and share them with you. We hope you will be able to follow our deeply twisted logic, the result of not one but three very small minds, travelling together in different directions. In the process of shortlisting – the judges were in a quandary – as we felt that only four writers conformed to our selected criteria. But we were bound by the rules and traditions of the Gratiaen. In deciding upon the winner, we found ourselves in another quandary. When we evaluated the shortlisted poets collectively we simply could not find a single winner – only three!.

It is these three that we would like to focus on.  The first of these is Sivamohan Sumathy. Her poetry struck all of us with its tremendous power and passion. Her reading of it on 7 April at the shortlisting ceremony set the audience on fire, with its rolling sounds and its pulsating rhythm. Arising from a strong political sensitivity and sensibility, Sumathy’s poems engage vigorously with life. We could not fail to be moved by her very personal and powerful responses to her experiences especially as a woman, a Tamil woman, and a Tamil woman living in Sri Lanka amidst the violence and brutality of continuing war. In a sense, her poetry is a record of her personal experience of war, her love and her loss.

We would like to salute her courage in taking a definitive political stand and her creativity in experimenting with form, genre and structure, expanding the boundaries of language and fashioning a unique style that fuses poetry with prose. It is a distinctive, individualistic style that is first and foremost bold, it is vibrant and versatile – her poetry is sometimes prose and her prose often poetry. It makes us rethink our conventional definitions of literary genre.

The next poet that we would like to mention is Vivimarie van der Poorten. The simplicity and subtlety in van der Poorten's poetry makes her work as powerful as Sumathy’s, although in a very different way. Her use of nuance and understatement is evocative and at times utterly poignant. It is a gentle, reflective minimalism which touches the soul, like a shadow passing across your face.

What is so distinctive about van der Poorten’s verse is the way she leaves the reader to deepen his or her own understanding and draw their own inferences and conclusions. Her willingness and ability to subject her personal experiences to such open scrutiny leads to pensive, but often trenchant, self-appraisal. An intimate glimpse into the life and struggles of one woman, her poems also elaborate on essential themes of racism, sexism, xenophobia, and of course, violence, always violence and death.

Our third chosen poet is Ramya Chamalie Jirasinghe. We were deeply moved by the changing currents and intensity of Jirasinghe’s poetry, which gains power and feeling as she moves from section to section, from North, to Axis to South and from world to world.

In her work, Sri Lankan poetry finds a singular mastery of craft that strings words, subjects and emotions together with dexterity, sensitivity and music. Her use of imagery metaphor is so rich that at times you can almost feel and taste the words. A sharp, incisive use of language unveils an intelligence which is deeply critical and thought provoking.

Her deep reservoir of feeling enables Jirasinghe to convey the specific nature of a lived moment – a gardener’s toil, a breadmaker’s kneading, a maid’s unwitting colour code - and to simultaneously transcend the moment and evoke the universality of the human experience. There were moments when Jirasinghe’s insight is overpowering and disturbing. In her poem Amsterdam she muses on the hiding place of Anne Frank–

Our conundrum was that in whittling down our five person short list and deciding on a single winner - all three of us felt that there was a three way tie. That is, we felt that three of the short listed five had such distinctive voices and such power and impact that we believed all three had a fair claim to the award. It was a hairline decision to choose one above the other two.

When we considered the short listed poets individually, two of us wanted to give the prize to Sumathy. Two of us wanted to give the prize to Jirasinghe. And two of us wanted to give the prize to van der Poorten. After much consideration and even more reconsideration, we decided to show the other three judges the door. So that just left the three of us. Rather than make an arbitrary decision, we exercised our collective and individual imagination, thinking up different ways of solving our dilemma.

After scrupulous appraisal of the respective merits and flaws of each of the three – and a rather more barbed cross-examination of each other’s appraisals – we still couldn’t reach a conclusion. We then subjected all three rigorously to the criteria we had established which we shared with you on 7 April. To our consternation all three evened out and no winner emerged. Each of the three had a distinctive style, voice, engagement and appeal; all three left an indelible mark. All three in short were winning entries!

However, the Gratiaen requirements compelled us to choose a single winner from these three highly creative artists. Although we were somewhat constrained by this, we had no choice but to come up with a winner despite ourselves.

We finally chose the winner because we felt that her appeal was in a sense more universal, her themes more accessible, her simplicity more direct and palpable. Although like the other two, she was deeply rooted in her cultural context and its complexities, her work was perhaps more accessible. In an age of confounding complexity, we want to applaud her for reminding us that sometimes less is more .

On this night of poetry, we the judges would like to leave you with our own bit of poetry to ponder and reflect on. Don’t worry we didn’t write it ourselves. These lines by Robert Frost are oft quoted but we hope that they will strike a chord.

To bring the evening to an end. We would like to say the following words about the winner.

The winner is Vivimarie van der Poorten.