Hello Gentle Reader,
2021 might as well be called an extension of 2020. Yet
another long-drawn-out year of pandemic propagation and political shuffling.
The world currently works itself into a rolling boiling rage, then beaten back
to a state of simmering repression, and then returning to the blistering
eruption. These past months alone have shown that appreciation is a finite
resource. During the initial months of the pandemic there was love and
appreciation for healthcare workers who put their lives at risk as they
waged war during the pandemic. Now they have found themselves in turn receiving
a generous amount of dissidence and disgusting from the public. There is
nothing but protests demanding the end to lockdowns and quarantines; questions
and conspiracies regarding vaccines; and of course, incompetent politicians who
have bumbled any sense of recovery, now have a front-line seat to a healthcare
system collapsing before their eyes (to which they will still refuse to call
the situation a crisis). Then there is the fall of Kabul and the re-emergence
of the embattled and embittered Taliban, who were once a distance memory in
their irrelevance. With their return there is a collective sight of disappointment.
The news has no shifting its take to food shortages and labour shortages.
Consolation: at least this time we have toilet paper. Once again, the Nobel
Prize Ceremony has been moved to a virtual and distanced format due to the
ongoing concerns that the COVID-19 Pandemic poses. As if in repeat of last
year, Nobel Speculation for this year’s prize remained other muted in an
atmosphere so humdrum it would even make a nun cry out: “Jesus Christ!” in
vain, and then drink heavily (and it won’t be commune wine). Despite the
otherwise repetitive nature of this year’s speculative discourse, there have
been flare ups of intense speculation, heated discussions, and lively
exchanges, but as brilliant as they begin, they too dwindle until rekindled
into a new lively exchange.
The
betting sites themselves show case a certainty in their inability to be trusted
and are as usual quite boring and plain. The usual candidates and suspects are
slapped together.
The
top contenders for this year’s Nobel Prize for Literature according to the
betting sites remain much the same. At least according to NicerOdds, who
predicts the following in the highest ranges:
Haruki Murakami
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o
Anne Carson
Lyudmila Ulitskaya
Margaret Atwood
Maryse Condé
László Krasznahorkai
Annie Ernaux
Jamaica Kincaid
While
the lower rungs for this year’s speculation consists of the possibilities of:
JK Rowling
Joni Mitchell
Patti Smith
Martin Amis
Salman Rushdie
Of
course, the entire betting sites lose any sense of credibility when they also
list writers who are no longer eligible for the prize because they are dead:
Amos Oz (2018) and Friederike Mayröcker (2021) – though this is an otherwise
disappointing reminder as both writers would have been deserving Nobel
Laureates, Amos Oz has polite politics backing him, while Friederike Mayröcker
was one of the most unconventional, groundbreaking, and experimental writers at
work. It’s hard to imagine any writer currently working who observes such a
strict devotion and adherence to personal craft and form, regardless of
publication or readership.
All
in all, though the betting sites lists are conventional. They are insipid and
lukewarm. They do not inspire any dazzling new heights, merely tread the usual
suspects who may or may not be in consideration for the prize.
The
Nobel’ s social media campaign is equally as repetitive as it rehashes the same
posts. They do seem to love Nadine Gordimer, Rabindranath Tagore, William
Faulkner and Grazia Deledda. Though in the defense of Grazia Deledda she has
been almost abandoned on the shores of oblivion with the company of Erik Axel
Karlfeldt, Roger Martin du Gard, and Jaroslav Seifert. Then there is the point
that the Nobel Prize social media campaign literally repeats itself from the
previous year, referencing the famous voice mail left for Alice Munro which was
posted on September 26, 2021 (September 10th, 2020); or a
list of eight books by an individual Nobel Laureate: Olga Tokarczuk, Gabriel
Garcia Marquez, Ernest Hemingway, Nadine Gordimer, William Golding, Alice
Munro, Toni Morrison, and Rabindranath Tagore, which was posted on October 1st,
2021 (September 25th, 2021).
This
year, however, they also posted an interview with a new Swedish Academy member:
Ellen Mattson of Chair No. 9, who is also a member of the Nobel Committee,
which has seen some changes this year as well:
Anders Olsson (Chair)
Ellen Mattson
Anne Swärd
Per Wästberg
Jesper Svenbro
Mats Malm (Associate)
I
believe the outgoing members of the Nobel Committee were Horace Engdahl and
Tomas Riad. No matter, Anders Olsson is still the chair, and has taken on a
powerful role within the Swedish Academy since the 2018 crisis, acting as the
temporary Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy after Sara Danius’s
resignation, at which point Olsson was to weather what remained of the Swedish
Academy to weather the transition and hold the fractured institution together,
and arguably Olsson succeed. Groundbreaking reforms were instituted, and
concessions accepted. Perhaps one of the most groundbreaking reforms was
granting members the agency to resign rather then become inactive. What
followed was a flurry of resignations which included: the former Permanent
Secretary of the Swedish Academy, Sara Danius, Lotta Lotass, Jayne Svenungsson,
Klas Östergren, Sara Stridsberg, and Kerstin Ekman. Of course, Kerstin Ekman
and Klas Östergren were inactive decades previously due to the Rushdie Affair,
the agency to resign merely allowed them to finalize their emancipation from
the institution. Lotta Lotass was also inactive prior to her resignation as
well. Then of course there is the case of Katarina Frostenson, who also
resigned with encouragement from the Swedish Academy. The behaviour of her
husband and by extension the accusations that she violated the Swedish
Academy’s statues of confidentiality, proved she was a liability. As two other
members have since died, the Swedish Academy has achieved a full roster, which
is a first since the late eighties. Here’s hoping this makes for lively
deliberations and complex conversations regarding who shall receive the Nobel
Prize for Literature.
Still,
one can’t help but ache for Sara Danius. What an icon. Being the first woman
Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy was a difficult task, but for the
few years in which she conducted the role, she was marvelous at it. Poised and
professional at each turn, Danius maintain regality and reticent
professionalism when executing the duties of the Permanent Secretary of the
Swedish Academy. Through grace and charm Sara Danius always introduced a warm
and welcoming atmosphere when it came to the Nobel Prize for Literature.
Unfortunately, after resigning from the Swedish Academy, Sara Danius succumbed
to breast cancer, which she had been battling for some years.
Which
of course brings us to the current Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy Mats
Malm, who is just a little wooden in his duties as Permanent Secretary. Since
his orientation and inception as the Permanent Secretary of the Swedish
Academy, one has noticed in the two announcements for three laureates that Mats
Malm is either slightly lifeless in his delivery or being managed backstage. After
announcing the laureate for the Nobel Prize for Literature, Mats Malm
immediately defers to Anders Olsson—Chairman of the Nobel Committee—and members
of the Nobel Committee, who will present the laureates and answer questions
from journalists. The entire affair which once was filled with bustling energy
and barely contained excitement, is now eclipsed with a looming shadow which
casts an otherwise muted atmosphere on the affair. Where Sara Danius maintained
grace and decorum when delivering the duties, which were always followed with
applauds and praise (even the blight of Bob Dylan), and what followed suit was
an even more admirable interview where Sara Danius majestically answered the
questions, provided an insightful introduction and overview of the writer, and
shared personal recommendations of books for eager readers to consider reading.
Then there was of course Peter Englund who was as completely energized when
announcing the Nobel Prize for Literature, where he was positively beaming and
bouncing to make the announcement, and finally let loose when discussing the
writer in interviews later. Peter Englund was infectious in his deliberations
and delivery. Even respect can be paid to Horace Engdahl, who was equally as
respectable in the role, where he acted as master of ceremonies with dignity
and even statesmanship (if albeit slightly smug). Yet, when it comes to the due
of Mats Malm and Anders Olsson it recalls a ventriloquist and his puppet. The
performance is neither enjoyable nor spectacular. One can’t help but think that
Mats Malm is limited in his ability to conduct his duties as Permanent
Secretary of the Swedish Academy because Anders Olsson maintains some influence
over the execution of those duties. Then again, the more this is discussed the
more it comes across as some literary tin foil hat conspiracy. Yet, one can’t
help but wonder if this year once again if Mats Malm will once again pass the
floor to Anders Olsson or not.
With
Nobel Week now thoroughly underway, with today’s Prize in Medicine &
Physiology announced, there are only two more prizes before the Nobel Prize for
Literature is set to be announced this Thursday. As we begin to lead up to this
year’s prize announcement date, it is difficult to imagine who will be
fortunate writer to receive the golden phone call. Not to mention, how will the
newly minted Laureate react. There is the famous Doris Lessing response from
2007 when she snapped: “oh Christ!” but then again when one does reach a
certain age, they are less inclined to observe social niceties, especially when
you’re trying to bring in the groceries. Who can forget the apprehension in
Mats Malm’s voice last year when asked if he got in touch with Louise Glück;
and the subsequent interview with Adam Smith from the Nobel Foundation which
can only be described as brisque, but admirably honest (though at the time, I
found Louise Glück’s behaviour unbecoming, which was an unfair assessment).
Other laureates have been delighted and irritated in the same turn, its merely
the nature of the award and the publicity that goes along with it.
Of
course, leading up to this week, friends have inquired about who I want to win
the Nobel Prize for Literature as if my own desires are to be taken into
consideration (which they are not). This is usually a difficult question to
answer. For me the greatest Nobel
Laureates in Literature have are the surprises; an introduction to a writer
previously unknown to the English language speaking world, or who had little
exposure to the English-speaking world. Of course, this is not entirely fair to
other writers who are recognized and established and are equally as deserving.
Finding that balance is difficult if not impossible. Yet I am asked of all my
speculation and learning about new writers from across the job (at least that I
can find) who do I wish to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. Of course, I
have no proper answer on the upfront. It’s a matter of taste and preference,
which are always in fluctuation and can change day by day or within the hour,
let alone in the immediate minute. So of course, when asked I can’t possibly
answer. Even after considerable time to think any list I produce is immediately
discarded. Though I always seem to have a soft spot for the Finnish poet Sirkka
Turkka, whose poems always struck me as graceful, lived, and without pretense.
Her poetry often showed respect and admiration for the natural world, and
slight side eyed glance to people in general (though not misanthropic in
nature; but rather distant). She is perhaps one of the most important poets of
Finland, and yet so underappreciated aboard and so underrepresented. The
natural grace I find with Sirkka Turkka’s poetry is what makes it so attractive.
It eschews all pretense and pompous predilections that may other writers
attempt to enact to showcase and boast their own intelligence or creative
ingenuity, while Turkka remains completely earthbound in the intimacy of her
poetry, once again denying the fits of grandiose maximalism that is so
paramount today. Speaking of the intimate reminds me of Gyrðir Elíasson and his
work of concentrated and condescended short stories, which read almost like
prose poems and vignettes. Only one of his books have translated into English
“Stone Tree,” and it was a treat to read, but the desire to read more is still
there and no other publications have been made so far. Gyrðir Elíasson is
certainly a writer’s writer, there’s no denying that, but his work has such
careful attention to the economics of form and precision, he’s simply
masterful; and he’s great foil to Halldór Laxness and Iceland’s literary
heritage with their epic Sagas. As I hear the leaves of autumn rustle and
scamper down the street their paper edge scratching against the pavement, I’m
reminded of Yōko Ogawa. I wouldn’t mind if she won. I think the lacking
representation of Yōko Ogawa in English stems from Haruki Murakami’s monopoly,
though she has quite the devoted translation into French. I find Yōko Ogawa’s themes
are more interesting, developed, and deeper than Murkami’s themes of solitude,
isolation, disassociation, and modern alienation, have become increasingly
caricaturized. Whereas Yoko Ogawa’s themes of memory, loss, absence, the agony
of transience, a tint of the grotesque, macabre, and violent, along with acute
psychological observation make her far more interesting. Yōko Ogawa’s work maintains
a diverse delivery of preoccupation and form, while Haruki Murakami is retreading
his previous preoccupations again and again without the accumulative effect of
say Patrick Modiano or Kenzaburō Ōe. The list inevitably will continue to grow,
already I’m reminded of Annie Ernaux, Jon Fosse, Mia Couto, Doris Kareva, Kim
Hyeson, Agi Mishol, Ibrahim Al-Koni and Pierre Michon.
Today
though also showed significant movement in the betting sites predictions, which
can be considered rather unique as the previous premature disclosure was due to
Jean-Claude Arnault advertising privileged information provided to him by his
wife Katarina Frostenson. Yet, today the betting sites exploded with an
activity with the bookies stating she was the most likely writer to be crowned
as the Nobel Laureate for 2021. Yet ever in flux, the Romanian master of the postmodern
and slightly surreal Mircea Cărtărescu has overtaken Annie Ernaux as the favourite.
Jon Fosse also made noticeable gains today according to the bookies. While Anne
Carson also remains incredibly favoured amongst those who enjoy betting on a
blind horserace.
The
thought of Annie Ernaux becoming this years Nobel Laureate in Literature is
neither surprising nor unwarranted. Annie Ernaux is perhaps one of the most
accomplished French language writers currently at work. As a writer, Annie
Ernaux is renowned for her ‘autofiction,’ that is autobiographical fictional
works, which misappropriates a sense of narcissism onto Annie Ernaux, whose
work transcends the pitfalls of hedonistic debauchery into the realm of scandalous
histrionics and melodrama, by maintaining a devout adherence to social
examination. By maintaining a socially engaged and politically aware sense of
self, Annie Ernaux’s intensely personal work becomes an intrapersonal chronicle
and observation of the social and political shifts of French society and global
attitudes. The examination of the self
in conjunction (or by extension) of the societal, reinvites and invigorates the
autobiographical narrative.
In
the end, who will win this years Nobel Prize for Literature? We won’t know
until Thursday; and to be honest it seems the day can’t come soon enough! This
sudden intensity in speculation ignited a contagious sense of excitement, as
Thursday can’t come soon enough!
Until
Thursday Gentle Reader, until Thursday!
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
M. Mary
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