M
by David Samuel Hudson
Hemm.
Hemm fejn? M is for Malta, for median. M is for mediocre. And M is for me.
Malta and mediocrity are two things that aspiring young author Damian Theuma dislikes. To be more precise, in the case of “Malta”, it’s more of a “love-hate” complex for Damian. His dream is, after all, that of writing the Great Maltese Novel. He wants to write it in English, the language he feels comfortable using. But how does one go about expressing the Maltese experience and identity in a different/foreign medium, even though it is, officially, one of the country’s official languages?
David is obsessed about this – and many other – questions about writing. After all, this is his passion, his reason for living. He wants to write a work which transcends the general mediocrity of even the most lauded local authors. And so he sets up a group of like-minded (although probably not-as-intense) budding writers, who meet to compare notes and ponder these literary dilemmas. They discuss character, setting and the question most central to the book – can a Maltese author write about Malta in English? In a meta-fictional twist, these discussions then shape the narrative itself. Thus, M, which is a novel in English, set in Malta and about Maltese characters, intersperses the core English narrative with passages and dialogue in Maltese. Although this switch to Maltese is sparingly used, it is certainly not limited just to the occasional swearword (rather cringily providing some local colour), but also extends to key phrases.
M is, in this respect, a literary experiment which tackles concerns about Maltese identity and experience and how this can be expressed through writing. And it is an experiment which works. M is written in idiomatic English, yet its Maltese passages also ring true. On occasion, it reminded me of Is-Sriep Reġgħu Saru Velenużi in which Alex Vella Gera also explores the Maltese/English-speaking dichotomy in the context of the local identity. Sriep, however, is more interested in how this dichotomy reflects class, social and political issues, whereas M’s focus is more specifically on the literary expression of the Maltese identity.
In an acknowledgments section at the end of the novel, David Samuel Hudson takes pains to point out that Damian is not an autobiographical figure. Yet, it’s very tempting to consider the protagonist of his debut novel as, at least in certain respects, the author's alter ego, particularly since Hudson quite clearly shares some of Damian’s pet hates – not least the mediocrity and pettiness of the local literary scene. It is also clear that Hudson has a soft spot for Damian: despite being insufferable at times, Damian is portrayed in a nuanced, and generally positive manner.
Indeed, what I liked about M is
that it is not just a novel of (literary) ideas, but also a touching
coming-of-age story centred around its protagonist. While both Damian (and the
novel in which he features) obsess about books and writing, Damian also grows
as a character, mends his relationship with his distant father, and ultimately
discovers love – an experience which he finds liberating, both as an author,
and at a more basic level, as a human being. This is, admittedly, not a very
original theme but it does gives a satisfying narrative arc to what could have otherwise
turned out to be a dry philosophical novel.
No comments:
Post a Comment