Books
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| “Once
upon a time there was a great wise man...” Over the years, grandmothers have been relating many stories about the gang to little ones who have enjoyed them thoroughly. Not only the little ones, anyone at any age can have a hearty laugh listening to these lovely folk tales. Professor J.B. Disanayaka, officially retired, but a busy man, now relates these and other folk tales in a new series of booklets for children. He presents them in two formats - 'Once upon a time' and 'Wisdom of the Folk'. 'Once upon a time' follows the traditional Sinhala way of starting a story - 'ekomath eka rataka'. JB says these folk tales tell us not only about the creative genius of the Sinhala folk but also about their life in the traditional village. They are intended to make reading a pleasure, according to JB. 'Wisdom of the Folk', as the name suggests, is aimed at helping children understand the wisdom of the Sinhala folk, as they are based on some popular Sinhala proverbs. 'Puhul hora karen denei', for example, relates the story of the pumpkin thief who got caught because of the ash on his shoulder. JB presents these stories in all three languages - Sinhala, Tamil and English thus enabling children of every community to enjoy the most popular Sinhala folk tales which all these years were limited to the Sinhala readership. This is indeed most welcome, particularly at a time when there is so much talk of ethnic harmony. Perhaps one day Tamil folk tales too could be presented in Sinhala and English. Three illustrators have contributed their artistic talents to the book. Sybil Wettasinghe in her own inimitable style while the other two - Nirupama Mahagamasekera and Manjula Karunathilaka have fared equally well. The illustrations are colourful, meaningful and help enhance the quality of the presentation. JB relates the story in simple words in both Sinhala and English. He maintains the typical story-telling style in Sinhala and adapts it to English most effectively. Children who can read will love to read the books because they are so simple, interesting and nicely illustrated. It's up to the elders to promote these booklets as gifts to children and induce them to read. I was most impressed with the way JB has captured the spirit of the story when presenting it in English. To give just one example: Just as much as we picture the Mahadenamutta's 'golayas' through their physical appearance as their names are mentioned, JB presents the names in English with simple explanations of their physical features. 'Pol Bae Muna' got that name because he had a face as round as a split-half of a coconut. 'Kotu Kitayya' had a body as thin as a stick. 'Rabbada Aiya' had a belly as round and red as a ripe arecanut. Manjula has captured these features so well in the illustrations. JB has broken new ground and filled the gap where local stories were not readily available for children to enjoy in English (they were exposed to age-old English tales most of which had hardly any relevance to our way of life). Keep going, JB - give the little ones more of these lovely tales! Reincarnation
and the restless quest of spirit The timing, after all, is significant. We have many such stories in our history - spirit transference and rebirth; and doubtless, the most dramatic is that which records the "immaculate" conception of Dutthagamini, hero prince of Ruhuna. As Lankans, we can relate to such a tale and accept such circumstances. After all, who can really tell what choices the soul has? A seasoned story-teller, Premini introduces David as a troubled schoolboy in his foster home in England - a boy with dreams in his head; the only Asian (a 'Blacky Pakky' in a class of nasty-minded white boys), trying so hard to conjure up his real mother, howling with nightmarish pain when his foster father dies, seeking the sanctuary of his bed to lie in and dream of a home - a true home far, far away... A totally different ammi and thaththi… their house stood in a huge garden, the branches of the mango trees were heavy with ripe mangoes. There were cadju trees where luscious-looking fruit hung down, the brown nuts dangling from them. Red shaded and yellow, just the same colour as apples.... His foster mother Ranee, trapped in her own tears and fears, struggles to understand. Her husband Gehan could not give her the child she longed for. Thirteen years married, childless in Sri Lanka, until they went to the little convent by the sea, saw the baby they would soon call their own. The Mother Superior smiled.. "I'm afraid I can't divulge the mother's name. She hated to part with the baby, poor thing... barely sixteen she was... She said, please call him David. Someone very dear to her, I'm sure." Gehan and Ranee de Silva took David, their new son, to England. Who was David? Premini cuts back to Sri Lanka - a railway family, Burghers; daughter Rosemary a beautiful sixteen; son David serving as a naval officer in Trincomalee, a David who Rosemary adored, a David who was coming home soon. The chapter boils over, gale-struck, when Piyasena, a three-wheeler driver rapes Rosemary and David is killed at sea following a Sea Tiger attack. Robert and Heather Prins had lost a son, could not find answers to the torment their teenage daughter had to endure. Rosemary, trapped in a monstrous cage of searing emotions, blocked out her trauma, lost her power of speech. She hugged her love of her brother to herself. He was in her. He had died at the time Piyasena had planted his seed in her. David had come to her. Now, he would grow within her - her brother, her illegitimate son. Heather Prins looked at the baby when it was delivered and exclaimed, "Just like David". To Rosemary, he was her brother returned out of her womb. Her David. When the baby was given to the convent orphanage, Rosemary "sobbed a tearful goodbye, knowing in her heart of hearts that they would meet again". Premini does not like leaving her characters unaccounted for. Sometimes, the trend of the story may fall too pat, but she has to put paid to Piyasena, the rapist. She needs to also detail why Gehan and Ranee go to England, take their adopted baby David with them. Their home is attacked by JVP insurgents who even take the Navaratna talisman David wears. Then one masked man tries to rape Ranee. A posse of policemen close in and Ranee escapes the fate of David's real mother. The insurgent leaps up, tries to escape. He is shot. He is Piyasena. The spreading violence throught the island impels the family to go to England. I will not tell you any more. Twelve years pass. Another David, swimming effortlessly like the David of another incarnation. Another David reliving the nightmare of his ship blowing up, of pain and dark nothingness. Ranee has to "delve into the unknown past". The search begins - - for David's sake; for her sake too. The rest of the story simply begs reading. The search becomes so insistent. Ranee alone, then David seeking Rosemary, a David who is the spitting image of the David who died at sea. The new David undergoing hypnotherapy in Kandy.... Father Anthony swinging his medallion. "David de Silva, you are whole now in body and spirit. One indivisible being. David Prins, accept that you and this boy here are one, sharing one memory, one life, the present one". The quest is long but Premini assembles the pieces adroitly. David reaches out again - back to Kandy, to Trincomalee where he had died in a previous life, to a prostitute who calls herself Rosemary - to a nun, Sister Ruth, who tells him of Rosemary's death. Is the search ended? Perhaps, but the finale is so unexpected, so hugely comforting, that I will not even hint at it. The search inverse turns boomerang-like, returns to David, making him whole for every more. Premini has given us a superb first novel and she dedicates it to Christine Wilson who has given her much encouragement. This is one piece of writing that is hard to put down and has been executed with professional ease. I have every reason to believe that it will claim a wide readership. Casting
another winning dice But, don't. Because the book deserves a couch, a pillow under your head and something delicious to munch. A slab of chocolate? Or perhaps, not this last, for most of the stories in themselves are delicious. Yes, if you begin at random, say with A Groom for Marie, leaving the first and the third stories for a rainy day. Through the domestic help, Marie, Kamani parodies the romanticism of the upper middle classes, who though ensconced in luxury, yet yearn for the simple life of the rustic. "Though the people of the household considered jak fruit, jak seed and manioc yams a luxury, those she could do without. For they reminded her of how tasteless they could become if you had to eat them day in and day out to quench the pangs of hunger." Marie's dreams of marrying Mr. Right are revealed through gentle humour. "The thought of him made her resist the advances of the Malu man and the paper boy. Who did they think she was? A young nobody who was up for touching and fondling? She was now a would-be bride. She had to wait for the prospective groom". Stories like "Halls of Learning" and "The Classic Theft" are obviously episodes from real life. So too The Gambler's Game, where the powerful prose makes the willing or unwilling reader too, share the intimacy between the narrator and her husband. "He notices my sideward glance and smiles..." "Enjoying yourself?" he asks. "Yes, very much...But how frightening even beauty could be when you hear and not see it". The philosophy in Lady Luck is staggering, especially when at the end of the last paragraph you realize the identity of the narrator. Paragraphs like "The rat race, the deadlines...the prominence given to wealth and glory. Even health being a competition that led to accumulate more stress" makes one read and re-read the story to gather all the wisdom it contains. Kamani Jayasekera has done it again through her third book of short stories, as usual, leaving the reader wishing for more. Through The Gambler's Game, she has, once again, cast the dice on the right side. |
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