Abstract

Introduction
The previous introduction to this bibliography on Sri Lankan writing in English began with a memorial tribute to Ashley Halpé, who had served as Professor of English longer than anyone else in Sri Lanka. It is a sad coincidence that the next introduction should commence with another one of his contemporaries in the world of creative writing, Anne Ranasinghe, who also died in 2016. Born on 2 October 1925 as Anneliese Katz, a Jewess in Essen, Germany, she fled the Holocaust as a teenager and arrived in England. There she befriended and married a Sri Lankan doctor/academic and moved to the island where, over an extended period, she established herself as one of the leading English-language poets in Sri Lanka. Since her parents and other relatives had been killed by the Nazis, many of her poems recapture that traumatic experience; however, in later years, the generally peaceful Sri Lanka she arrived in was transformed by the insurgencies of 1971 and 1989–1990, pogroms against the Tamil community in 1977 and 1983, and the war between the Sri Lankan forces and the LTTE that followed. Then, Ranasinghe brought her insights on persecution and violence to bear on the Sri Lankan situation. In her poem “July 1983”, inspired by what many felt was state-sponsored violence against the Tamils in Sri Lanka, she writes, Forty years later once more there is burning the night sky bloodied, violent and abused and I - though related only by marriage - feel myself both victim and accused
In “Landscapes” she points out that in her country of origin now “everything is green and gentle”, whereas in the once serene Sri Lanka the insurgency has resulted in a “Red flood of torment in the desecrated night”. She brought out 20 works that included short stories as well; and some of her poems, like “At What Dark Point” and “Plead Mercy”, have been taught for years in University English Departments and in the GCE Advanced Level Examination curriculum. Ranasinghe was a founding member of the English Writers’ Cooperative and was instrumental in instituting its journal Channels to encourage people to write creatively. Many of those who first published in this journal have subsequently won national awards for their creative endeavours. Ranasinghe herself has been honoured in both Sri Lanka and Germany with the most prestigious award being the Cross of The Order of Merit of The Federal Republic of Germany, bestowed on her in 2015 by the German Government. Her works have been broadcast on radio, published in several countries and translated into about nine languages. With the demise of Anne Ranasinghe and Ashley Halpé, the major literary figures in English who emerged a decade or two after Independence are now as few as three: Yasmine Gooneratne, Punyakante Wijenaike, and Jean Arasanasagam. If one could take some comfort in a moment of sorrow, it is that all her contemporaries are still actively engaged in literary pursuits.
The Gratiaen Prize jury of Sasanka Perera (Chair), Chandana Dissanayake, and Ruhanie Perera declared that Charulatha Abeysekara Thewarathanthri was the winner of the 2016 Gratiaen Prize for her manuscript “Stories” at the Gratiaen gala held at the BMICH. This was one of the strongest shortlisted entries in the history of the Gratiaen Prize: Shehan Karunatilaka and ViviMarie Vanderpoorten were previous winners, Rizwina Morseth-de Alwis and Thewarathanri had been shortlisted in the past, and Jean Arasanayagam is a multiple-award winning, senior Sri Lankan English poet.
Since four of the five entries were manuscripts, one can only provide the judges’ citations by way of introduction. Thewarathanthri’s entry was lauded for “its exploration of landscape in terms of place and location, as well as expression in poetry”; “its nuanced play with punctuation, and phrasing as episodic, that delivers the reading of work as a sensation experienced”; and “its commitment to journeying into the self, interiority and the intimacy of thought and memory”. “The Memory of Loss” by de Alwis was praised for “exploring the depth and breadth of form as short story, while creating a rich terrain of character, location and socio politic”; for “giving us writing that embraces the ugliness of human vulnerability without apology and forging a language of short fiction that is both relevant and meaningful because the way we engage and express has evolved dramatically”; and for “committing to a facility of story that reads as social comment”. “Short Eats” by Karunatilaka was praised for “weaving together colourfully the intertwined destinies of characters that confront and delight the reader; for the effective build-up of a storyline that addresses the intimate and the larger-than-personal”; and for “bringing back poetry into fiction through imaginative use of language”. “Borrowed Dust: A Collection of Poems” by Vander Poorten gained praise for “the audacious blurring of the boundaries between public and private, and its relentless exploration of ways of seeing and subversion”; for “the gifts of metaphor, phrasing as form and poetic sensibility”; and for “reminding us of the precarity of living and language”. Since Jean Arasanayagam’s Introspective Poems is a published work, we shall return later to it in this Introduction.
2016 was notable for the appearance of several debut novels by writers based overseas but with Sri Lankan connections, which is the best way to describe them since labels such as “diasporic writers” or “expatriate writers” do not fit easily, given that their Sri Lankan associations are not as direct as those of their predecessors. The novels are Rajith Savanadasa’s Ruins, Anuk Arudpragasam’s The Story of a Brief Marriage, and Sunil Yapa’s Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist.
Ruins by Savanadasa, based in Australia, focuses on the travails of a middle-class family in the post-war suburbs of Colombo. With the cessation of the war, urbanites had to grapple with a still insecure peace, the availability of “black” money, Western mores that threatened traditional values, substance abuse, more relaxed attitudes towards sex, and the desire for instant gratification. Ruins features Manurathne Herath (a Sinhalese); Lakshmi (his Tamil wife); Anoushka (their introverted daughter); Niranjan (their son who has just returned from Australia); and the domestic Latha (who represents the rural). It is a polyvocal novel that deals with myriads of issues that confront urban communities in Sri Lanka. While members of this household and, by extension, the country are rendered dysfunctional because of the enervating socio-political and economic climate of the time, the novel demonstrates how some of them are able to partially recover or rebuild their lives into something sustaining by invoking basic (as opposed to militant) Buddhist values, the island’s ancient heritage, and by maintaining a balanced approach to urban living. Even those who achieve this sense of equipoise have to suffer much before doing so. To cite two examples, Niranjan returns to the country after a degree in Australia with a superiority complex and a sense of entitlement. However, his uncle declines to finance his start-up company and he gets badly beaten up at a night club in trying to assault a politician’s son. It is only after the assault that he wises up, drinks sparingly, desists from the night club culture, buckles down to the routine of a responsible job, and takes an interest in his family affairs which he had previously ignored. Anoushka has been dwarfed since childhood by an overbearing mother who brings up her daughter in such a manner that she is unable to cope in the teenage social world of the twenty-first century. When she discovers that she is a lesbian, fearful that she would be found out, and with no one to confide in, she attempts suicide and only gradually recovers thanks to her brother’s care and their domestic, Latha, from whom she learns about the Buddhist notion of “detachment”. Before concluding, one must say that this first novel, though one of the best to emerge from the Sri Lankan diaspora in recent years, is not without blemish. Lakshmi makes the predictable visit to an astrologer when she finds the home situation beyond her. The description of the horoscopes Jinasensa reads and the extraordinary rituals he asks Lakshmi to perform at home to ward off evil spirits are exoticized, overdone, and perhaps structured to create a sense of mystery for the non-Sri Lankan readership.
The Story of a Brief Marriage focusses on two main characters, Dinesh and Ganga, who are caught between the LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam) cadres and the Sri Lankan army during the last stages of the war. They live in camps that are constantly on the move, fleeing the shelling from both sides of the conflict. Dinesh and Ganga do voluntary work in the hastily set-up hospitals to tend to the many who have suffered massive injuries on account of flying shrapnel and bombing. While it is inconceivable that anyone would want to situate a novel focusing on the last stages of the war without bringing in a single LTTE combatant or a soldier in the Sri Lankan army, Arudprasagasam has done just that and produced one of the best novels related to the war. Ganga’s father who has lost his wife and son on account of the bombing, realizes that his own life and that of Ganga may not last very long, given the vagaries of this military conflict; consequently, he proposes that his daughter marry Dinesh so that she can have a “respectable” life, even if it were short. The two have known each only by sight when the “proposal” is made. The marriage, which lasts a little over a day, is cut short when Ganga, who goes in search of her father, is killed as a consequence of the camp being bombed. Arudpragasam’s mastery over language, especially in dealing with introspective moments, is unparalleled in Sri Lanka writing in English. He gives painstaking attention to detail but the reader never gets the impression that it is overdone — whether describing horrific war injuries or the anxieties, frustrations, and fears of Dinesh as he tries to rationalize his marriage to Ganga. Although Ganga is a willing partner on the only occasion that is available for the couple to consummate their marriage, his own experiences in the war — helping doctors to amputate limbs under the crudest of circumstances and seeing his mother die a war victim while fleeing from the conflict — render him impotent and unable to perform. He ends up weeping on Ganga’s shoulder. What creates maximum anguish in the reader is to follow Dinesh’s subsequent internal journey in which he seemingly heals himself of the traumas that had incapacitated him in the previous encounter, realizes that he is sexually attracted to Ganga after all, and eagerly anticipates seeing her again, only to discover that she is dead. This is a tragic novel: all main characters except Dinesh die on account of the war, which is shown to be an exercise in futility. Dinesh lives but with no prospects for the future whatsoever, so it would be best described as living death.
If the two novels cited above are different from the usual diasporic novels about Sri Lanka, they still employ Sri Lanka as the base for their action. Yapa’s Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist is untypical in several ways. The “Battle in Seattle” took place in 1999 and resulted in the World Trade Organization talks being placed on hold on account of protests in the city, peaceful protests that succeeded but were brutally suppressed by the police. Lucy Scholes comments in a review that the novel is “a minefield of potential for an author; an ensemble cast trapped together in an explosive setting, and Yapa demonstrates admirable pace and control over what could easily have become an unwieldy mess”. As many commentators have pointed out, the novel addresses the fundamental questions of what kind of world we want and what we must do to get it. If the media reports at the time focused on police brutality and the wanton destruction of property, Yapa gets into the minds of different characters and shows how they respond to crisis situations. These characters include Victor, a runaway selling weed, Police Chief Bishop (his step father who had disowned him and now regrets the decisions) who has to ensure that his subordinates with different views on handling the protestors should act together, and the medics who have to persuade the rioters that primacy should be given to human life rather than a cause. What is most notable, however, is the presence of Charles Wickramasinghe (the Sri Lankan diplomat to the convention), whose mission it is to ensure that Sri Lanka is given a place in the WTO, an organization which the protestors loathe. His interactions with them show the protestors that their “idealistic” goal for justice, if achieved, could have a major impact on the poor in countries like Sri Lanka, while Wickramasinghe himself learns how commitment to a cause can bring about change, even when facing implacable odds. The novel has its flaws; most significantly, Victor’s reappearance in this city where the father who had disowned him is the Police Chief: the father-son meeting at the end is too predictable and contrived. However, Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist is a powerful work that takes the reader through the full gamut of human emotions, motivations and much more and is remarkable for a debut novel.
Nayomi Munaweera’s What Lies between Us is in a way a more straightforward novel of expatriation with the action shifting recurrently from Sri Lanka to the US. The novel also echoes previous works, especially Chandani Lokugé’s If the Moon Smiled, in which there is sexual attraction (perhaps even congress) between the young male servant and Manthri who has just attained puberty. However, while the relationship is “suggested” in Lokugé’s novel, in What Lies between Us, it becomes sexual abuse of a minor (Ganga) by the mature family retainer. No previous Sri Lankan novelist has dealt with this theme so thoroughly as has Munaweera. Although the descriptions of abuse are occasionally overdone, there is no gainsaying that Munaweera has captured the admixture of guilt, self-loathing, and sexual excitement within the young girl during these encounters. She also charts how Ganga’s future was blighted because of them: her father commits suicide when her mother informs him of what has happened, Gang a finds it difficult to relate to men as an adult, and, even though she briefly enjoys a fulfilling marriage, she is unable to care for her child properly because of her past. To Annie Zaidi, “the novel’s major weakness is the narrator who is ‘not unreliable enough’. Were the central character’s narrative style as slippery as memory itself, the reader would be forced to examine her story more closely, sifting the truth from the spin that she has put on it”. A related drawback is the narrator’s recounting of British propaganda about the last king of Ceylon to justify the colonizer’s attempts to overthrow the king (especially how the king is supposed to have forced the wife of the chieftain who had betrayed him to the British to pound her children’s bodies using a mortar and pestle). Another weakness is the steamy sex scene between Ganga and her female cousin the evening before the latter’s traditionally “arranged” Sri Lanka wedding. There is no hint whatsoever that the cousins have had any such attraction for each other. These lapses notwithstanding, What Lies between Us has strengthened Munaweera’s growing reputation as a novelist.
Chandana Dissanayake, who was one of the judges for the Gratiaen prize which selected Jean Arasanayagam’s Introspection: Poems as one of the shortlisted works, has this to say about the volume, easily the best collection of published poetry in the year under review: Largely a reassertion of Arasanayagam’s stances on hybridity and identity put forth through several previous collections, this collection of forty-three poems nevertheless has its own merit in its intertwined thematic concerns that convey the reader along avenues of memory, history and contemporary life, making the poet’s nuanced introspection on her relation to these a shared experience. The poems, diverse in terms of the immediate concerns of the subject-matter ranging from pilgrimages to human and animal rights, carry the subtleness of thought and imagination that add up to the questioning and acceptance of larger-than-personal realities which have influenced the poet in her responses to intimate as well as shared experiences of a lifetime. Arasanayagam’s acceptance of these realities is by no means passive, as revealed by the poems. She engages in an active, introspective re-evaluation of conditions that have given her an identity that is simultaneously Dutch Burgher, Tamil, and Sri Lankan. Her voice in this exercise transcends the parochial, while at the same time calling for the recognition of dilemmas, conflicts, pain, privileges and pleasures shared and not shared — all seen as inheritances and liabilities of a multicultural ethos.
Dramsoc 2016, the inter-faculty drama competition of the University of Peradeniya, brought together five performances which included plays from the Dental, Arts, Science, Management, and Engineering faculties. Kanchana Warnapala, Senior Lecturer in English at the Open University of Sri Lanka, who was on the panel of judges, provided this assessment on the plays that were staged: Entertaining and thought-provoking, the dramas touched upon a wide variety of cultural, social, political, and religious issues. The night began with The Execution by the Faculty of Dental Science which depicted the dawn of a futuristic, neo colonial era which seemingly threatens personal identity and human existence. The set and costumes were a fine evocation of the society portrayed, accentuating the sterile, barren atmosphere of the play. However, its plot and dialogue seemed contrived and while certain performances were commendable, others were less than mediocre. Anna Alone, directed by the Faculty of Arts, was an extremely riveting but unsettling play. With a fantastically strong cast, the performance was memorable, dramatizing the psychological conflict of a young woman subjected to physical and sexual abuse. Anna Alone was an emotionally intense piece that had the audience engrossed. Despite a few technical glitches, it certainly set the bar high for the performances to follow. The False Prophet by the Faculty of Science was noteworthy in its interpretation of religion and ideology, and its relationship to power and domination. With a strong ensemble cast, the play, intermingled with certain comic and light-hearted performances, displayed promise. However, on a less positive note, it lacked vibrancy, energy, and charisma, and was in need of better stage management and execution. The Faculty of Management produced a witty script, with commendable performances for their comic stints in The Ideal Love. It dealt with issues of love and marriage. Unfortunately, it lacked depth and became predictable and dull. The play’s plotting was too simplistic, and its dramatization of the role of women problematic. The most ambitious performance of the day was by the Faculty of Engineering. Those representing the Faculty helped to finish the evening with style with a daring performance of The Lullaby. Leaving the audience reeling from shock, the play depicted issues of female exploitation and the role of political power. The talent which the students displayed as individual actors and in their work in ensemble was certainly impressive. While the sounds and lights were managed very well with technical competence, the drawbacks were certainly the play’s reliance on sensationalism and melodramatic emotions and the absence of a more nuanced story line. Though vibrant and captivating, the five performances varied significantly in quality, perhaps testifying to the lack of sharing of artistic expression and expertise among the faculties due to the competitive nature among them. While a spirit of friendly competition would indeed advance the quality of Dramsoc plays, rivalry taken to an extreme is counter-productive. Another concern was the lack of a sense of gender awareness and sensitivity in the plays, somewhat alleviated by the subversive drag performances which were brilliantly executed by the actors.
Mind Adventures Theatre in collaboration with the British Council produced “Better than Ever Before”. Sri Lankan Arun Premathilake and Alice Milseed of Northern Ireland worked together in constructing a play that focussed on the issues confronting the young in coping with post-war urban living. What is unique about this drama with two actors and just wooden boxes serving as a backdrop is that it has been inspired by both the Mahawamsa and Irish mythology and played out in modern Colombo and Belfast.
There were two major collaborative ventures in professional theatre. The first, entitled “Dear Children, Sincerely” witnessed Stages Theatre Group and Rwandan theatre group Mashirika joining together for a performance which focussed on the manner in which stories and experiences of the older generations are conveyed to a younger generation. Allied to this project was the collaboration of two major theatre companies in the country States Theatre Group and Mind Adventures Theatre Company led by Ruwanthie de Chickera and Tracy Holsinger, respectively. “A Conversation across Generations” is based on extended conversations with a cross-section of the generation born in the 1930s, a generation that has lived through the entire history of modern Sri Lanka: colonialism, independence, the insurrections, the civil war, the technological revolution, and the post-war period. In addition, the directors had brought in interviews and conversations among those who were involved in Human Rights issues. The idea was to show what had been gained and lost over a period of time and how one could face the future in light of this knowledge, especially to effect reconciliation among the many communities in the island.
Ernest Macintyre’s “The Lost Culavamsa: Or the Unimportance of Being Earnest” is an intriguing play by the veteran dramatist. As Rasasanaygam’s Last Riot would testify, Macintyre has previously explored the ethnic conflict in Sri Lanka in his dramas. Whereas his former play is grim and ends in tragedy, here the thrust is pure comedy through which Mactintyre endeavours to show that “our differences are all cultural and not biological”. Inspired by Oscar Wilde’s famous play, “The Importance of Being Earnest”, a baby is found abandoned in a “mullah” (a bag made of leaves) with a copy of the Culavamsa, the third of the great chronicles of Sri Lanka. He is adopted by rich, childless Jaffna Tamil parents while his brother is brought up as a Sinhalese. The child is found in 1905, but the action begins in 1930, when the boy’s birth identity is discovered. The theme of the play is predictable (although blood ties matter for all humans, our socio-cultural upbringing that can make us different), but the unravelling of a complex plot makes for wonderful reading or viewing on stage.
Though plagued by doubts about its future on account of the Commonwealth Foundation’s decision not to continue providing financial support to the parent body ACLALS, the SLACLALS Conference was held on 29–30 October under the title “A Translocal World?: Exploring the Postcolonial Today”. Despite all the gloomy prognostications and the low-key arrangements, the eighth conference was a resounding success. The keynote was given by G. J. V. Prasad, the Chair of Indian ACLALS. Other delegates based in India, the UK, and the US also attended. While some papers focused on postcolonial theory, in response to the Conference theme, the majority of the presentations were on literature with papers on Sri Lankan authors both within and outside the island, with Indian writers and translations predominating. One of the most intriguing sessions featured two papers by Sumathy Sivamohan, “The Long Day’s Journey out of War: Undoing the Nation in Koorva ll Koorvallin by Thamizhini and A Long Watch: War, Captivity and Return in Sri Lanka, as Told by Ajith Boyagoda to Sunila Galappatti” and Vihanga Perera “Silences in Post Civil War Narratives of ‘History’: A Study of the Memoirs of Thamalini Jeyakumaran and Ajith Boyagoda”. Chances of two individuals choosing to examine the same two books at a conference are highly unlikely but it happened on this occasion. To make it more interesting, the presenters had contrasting views on these works. Vihanga Perera critiques these former combatants from both sides of the ethnic conflict, “the self-appointed agents representing ‘truth’ and their ‘silences’” on some matters while Sivamohan claims that “[b]oth in their different ways, undertake a self-reflexive and gradual undoing of the nation”. The conference also included readings by award-winning writers such as Thiagaraja Arasanayagam, Jean Arasanayagam, Sumathy Sivamohan, Kamala Wijeratne, and Vihanga Perera. Before the conference commenced, attendees were invited to pay tribute to the former Chair of SLACLALS, Ashley Halpé, Sri Lanka-born Canadian academic Chelva Kanaganayakam who had been the keynote speaker at a previous SLACLALS Conference, and Manique Gunesekera, a senior member who had died recently. A new executive was elected at the triennial general meeting for a three-year period with Walter Perera (chair), Marlon Ariyasinghe (secretary) and Chandana Dissanayake (treasurer) retaining their positions and Harshana Rambukwella and Maduranga Kalugampitiya newly appointed as committee members.
