David Chariandy has explored ideas of dislocation and cultural memory as an academic at Simon Fraser University, but he now offers those ideas to a wider audience in his luminous first novel entitled Soucouyant (Arsenal Pulp). Set in Ontario, the story focuses on the fraught and tender relationship between a Canadian-born son and his Trinidadian-born mother, a woman who is suffering from dementia and uncannily 'forgetting to forget' the traumatic secrets of her past. The soucouyant - an evil spirit in Caribbean folklore - stands as a symbol of how the legacies of 'elsewhere' continue to haunt the lives of those born here.
Chariandy lives in Vancouver.
1) As a writer (i.e. someone whose artistic practice is predicated on time
spent alone) how do you approach performance? What do you get out of it?
It’s a good question. I’m told that I do alright in front of an audience. And I’m a teacher as well as a writer, so I should be used to public speaking by now. But the truth is that I’m usually a bit uncomfortable when I have to read my work, even though, apparently, this rarely shows. I’ve found that my type of writing requires quite a lot of introspection, which doesn’t necessarily help when it’s time to perform. Still, I’m so deeply grateful when anyone is willing to listen to me. That is an enormous gift to a new writer.
2) What do you want people to know about Soucouyant?
It’s a book about the elsewhere past, and about what haunts us when we think we’ve moved beyond. It’s also a book about forgetting, about the fragility of memory, and about the impossible burden of history. Really, it’s just a book about a mother suffering from dementia, and a son who is conflicted about his responsibilities. It’s a book that I worked on very carefully over many, many drafts, since I felt I owed this to the themes and characters.
3) What are you looking forward to in Winnipeg?
Frankly, I’m looking forward to hearing other writers read. I get inspired by that, the ebb and pitch of words in the air. And this particular festival has gathered together so many extraordinarily writers, both mature and new. Also, just about every writer I know tells me that the audiences in Winnipeg are the most lively and enthusiastic in the nation. I feel both thrilled and humbled to be able to participate in the groove.4) What are you reading right now?
Lots of stuff. I usually dip into several books at once. (The tower beside my bed is sometimes outright hazardous…) I’ve recently read the new Ondaatje, Vassanji, Gowdy, and Hill, and I’m looking forward to perusing other CanLit offerings of the year. I’ve also been trying to catch up on books published a year or two earlier, like The Law of Dreams and The View from Castle Rock. I’m also right now re-reading Delible by Anne Stone, which I can’t seem to get out of my head. I’m always reading a lot of poetry. Poetry feeds me in a way that’s absolutely essential, even though I’ve never attempted that most daunting and demanding art. So Moure, and Brand, and Brathwaite, and Walcott over and over again, as well as a bunch of newer voices. I’ve co-founded, with Wayde Compton and Karina Vernon, a very (very) modest press named Commodore Books, and I’m really hoping that we’ll get to publish, as our third book, the poetry of an emerging Winnipeg-based writer named Troy Bailey. His poetry is exceptionally interesting, but I think he has the same neurosis that I do – he’ll never stop working on a manuscript until someone physically wrests the thing away. Maybe I’ll try pulling a heist when I’m in town…
5) What can being longlisted/shortlisted/winning an award like the Giller Prize do for a book and/or for your career? How does it feel to be nominated?
I’m both thrilled and shocked. As I mentioned, I worked extremely hard on my book for a number of years. Eventually, after painstakingly studying the works of more experienced writers, after many, many drafts, and after considerable pain and self-doubt on my own part, I got the narrative and language of my short book into a form that satisfied me. But I assumed, for a variety of reasons, that it wouldn’t get much attention, and I was honestly OK with that. Now, I’m suddenly in the company of the very writers, like Michael Ondaatje, whose work inspired me so profoundly in the first place. It’s such a strange and wonderful experience. I can’t fully express how meaningful it has all been to me, how deeply grateful I am by the nod from the Giller judges, and by the subsequent attention from people who, otherwise, might never have heard of my book or else taken me seriously. But I also know who supported me right from the beginning: a small and “regional” press, an independent bookstore or two, and a community of readers and writers, of all backgrounds and degrees of fame, who have taught me to understand “literature” not as the product of a few stars, but as a wild democracy of voices.
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David Chariandy will be appearing at THIN AIR, Winnipeg International Writers Festival:
September 28 - Writing through Race Panel, U of W, with Lawrence Hill and Paul Yee.
September 28 - Maintstage, with William Gibson, Lawrence Hill, Linda Leith, Brenda Hasiuk.
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