Post-Nobel Prize in Literature 2021 Thoughts

 
Hello Gentle Reader,
 
Another year of Nobel Speculation has come and past. This year proved to defy expectations and came out as a brilliant surprise and shock. The discussions of Haruki Murakami, Anne Carson, Annie Ernaux, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, Jon Fosse and Jamaica Kincaid all fell away when at 1:00pm (Stockholm, CEST time) the clock chimed and the doorknob to those grand white and gold trimmed doors of the Swedish Academy opened and crossing the threshold between secrecy and restrained publicity, is the Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy, Mats Malm. The journalists present – just a few in total – sat in their seats like a small congregation of church goers (with microphones and cameras), while Mats Malm stood at the pulpit to enlighten the world on the deliberations of the Swedish Academy, and who they have chosen to induct as the Laureate in Literature for 2021. With muted delight Mats Malm announced that the Nobel Laureate for Literature for 2021 is: the Tanzanian born United Kingdom based writer, Abdulrazak Gurnah, with the following citation: “for his uncompromising and compassionate penetration of the effects of colonialism and the fate of the refugee.”
 
Again, due to complications caused by the global pandemic situation, the Nobel Laureates for 2020 (Louise Glück) and Nobel Laureate for 2021 (Abdulrazak Gurnah) will be invited to attend the Nobel Ceremonies at a later date when it is safe to do so.
 
Sadly, the reception at the Swedish Academy and the assembled journalists was muted once again. Yet, this cannot be blamed on the pandemic alone. When reviewing the announcement of the 2018/2019 Nobel Laureates in Literature, the atmosphere was once again muted. There were no cheers or applause. There was not even a spark of jovial glee passing through the presented journalists. Soberly and somberly Mats Malm read out the Laureates— Olga Tokarczuk and Peter Handke—and still not a murmur of excitement, which is odd considering that Peter Handke became such an explosive and controversial choice (though that wasn’t a surprise). The following year with the pandemic now an established reality, the atmosphere was even more muted with a sparse and few journalists populating the room for the 2020 announcement, which has become the same décor for this year. On all occasions Mats Malm entered the room with solemn airs immediately and began to welcome the attendees to the Swedish Academy, before running through the script of who the Nobel Laureate is and their citation in the languages that Mats Malm has the command over, afterwards Mats Malm passes the floor to the chairman of the Nobel Committee Anders Olsson who presides over court like a regent. Reading from a prescriptive perspective Olsson recites the overview of Abdulrazak Gurnah’s literary overview, and then takes questions from the journalist which are answered in Swedish and English.
 
Where’s the ceremony in this? Where is the excitement? The anticipation? Where’s the majesty? Instead, we get the Anders Olsson and Mats Malm show, a less then stunning duo it seems. And I don’t mean to be unkind to either of these men, but they are not public crowd pleasers. Their roles are so managed and scripted (right down to the blocking and interaction with journalists) that one can’t help but feel disappointed in the situation. This is a marvelous occasion. It’s a grand occasion and to treat it as if it’s a routine shareholder meeting or board meeting diminishes the joys of the literature prize. I’ve looked at the samples of previous permanent Secretaries of the Swedish Academy and how they handle the announcement of the Nobel Prize for Literature. Each of the three previous Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy (Horace Engdahl, Peter Englund and Sara Danius) managed the proceedings as a singular member of the Swedish Academy. Poised, professional, and even a sense of regality (well excitement in the case of Peter Englund) they delivered the announcement that solicited response that were gleeful and jovial in excitement as well as applauds. Afterwards they would calmly and with equal enjoyment provide an interview with a journalist regarding the years Nobel Laureate and an overview of their work. Even in 2016, Sara Danius entered through those stages with majestic reticence knowing full well that controversy and outrage were sure to following she had conducted the responsibilities of the time. Yet, when Mats Malm delivers the news with stoic cold calm. The delivery of the news is sober, solemn and even, which are fine attributes, but to preside over the events of announcing the Nobel Prize for Literature, one does need to have a slight flourish and colour in their charisma, a slight sense of spontaneity. Sadly, Mats Mal is either lacking in that spark or is being managed to remain as wooden and follow a defined regiment protocol as decided by Anders Olsson, at which point Mats Malm presents the name of the Laureate and citation, followed up by any information with regards to if the newly minted Laureate has been reached with the news. In the past Olga Tokarczuk received the news while on a reading tour;  Peter Handke welcomed the news while at home; Alice Munro was unavailable at the time and Peter Englund left a voice message; Doris Lessing was informed by reporters waiting for her out front of her home (she was out getting groceries); Louise Glück tepidly responded to the news with apprehension; and in the case of Abdulrazak Gurnah he received the news in the kitchen with suspicion, after all no one wants to be the subject of another prank like Julian Barnes.
 
Afterwards – at least in years past – the Permanent Secretary would excuse themselves and leave their pulpit and mingle with the assembled journalists, at which point they would engage in an interview regarding the laureate, recommendations where to start (Horace Engdahl recommended “The Black Book,” with regards to Orhan Pamuk; Peter Englund recommended “The View from Castlerock,” with regards to Alice Munro and “Missing Person,” with regards to Patrick Modiano; Sara Danius recommended “Wars Unwomanly Face,” in regards to Svetlana Alexievich), which provided a palpable human engagement to the affairs showcasing a sheer enjoyment and love of literature, language and culture. The lack of liveliness currently exhibited by the Mats Malm and Anders Olsson duo production is dreadfully staged. Mats Malm as Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy makes a short appearance, rattles of the pertinent information, and then excuses himself for Anders Olsson the chairman of the Nobel Committee, who proceeds to stand behind his pulpit and readout with lecture like enthusiasm the overview of the new Nobel Laureate in Literature, and then answer questions from journalists. I can understand that the pandemic has distance treated as a normal social habit, which is why the room is not filled and full of spectators and journalists, but the scripted, staged, and managed production of the proceedings are so lacking in palpable enjoyment. Mats Malm appears almost camera shy and extraordinary wooden in his delivery, while Anders Olsson is just as uninteresting. It still smells like Anders Olsson is the de facto leader of the Swedish Academy and is exercising a fair bit of control over the proceedings both publicly and behind closed doors. Regardless I long for the days of Horace Engdahl, Peter Englund or Sara Danius, a lively, charismatic, and regal Permanent Secretary is a damn good Permanent Secretary. These traits do not seem to be properly showcased in the personae of Mats Malm or Anders Olsson. Again, I don’t mean to be unkind or even unfair to these two men, but they are not inspiring in their delivery.
 
Now on to this year’s laureate, Abdulrazak Gurnah. What a surprise! Truly I got what I asked for: a writer I did not know and have not heard of. In that regard Gentle Reader, I can’t complain. Leading up to this year’s announcement I mulled the thoughts of Annie Ernaux receiving the award. I contemplated how the Swedish Academy was going to be forced to deny the accusation of Eurocentrism, of being insular and narrowminded in their perspective approach to defining and recognizing ‘global literature.’ Yet, at the same time, Annie Ernaux is a unique writer certainly another boldening approach to the parameters of what we call literature. If Svetlana Alexievich was the chronicler of the Soviet and post-Soviet individual through interpersonal interviews; Annie Ernaux is the social cartographer of post-War France through the intrapersonal self as the reflective angle of social attitudes, change and perspectives. Then from the left field came a writer no one discussed, betted on, or even speculated about. How’s that for a surprise! My daydreams and thoughts about Annie Ernaux had evaporated once Mats Malm had mentioned something about a writer (in Swedish) whose name I could not grasp, not even when announced in English (and I am not blaming Mats Malm, because when Anders Olsson announced it in turn, I still could not grasp who this mysterious writer was), abruptly I contemplated who this new writer is and what their work is going to entail. After seeing the name written I immediately delved into learning about Abdulrazak Gurnah.
 
Throughout the world there was a consensus amongst readers and journalists scratching their heads at who is Abdulrazak Gurnah. The Swedish Academy stated he was born in Zanzibar and based in the United Kingdom. Zanzibar is an island autonomous region in Tanzania on the Eastern side of the African continent, just south of Kenya, and north of Malawi, Zambia, and Mozambique. His interview with the Nobel websites Adam Smith was pleasant enough, though humorous as well, as Gurnah expressed suspicion initially when he talked to the Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy Mats Malm in the kitchen while making tea. He said Mats Malm kept speaking quietly as he repeated the joyous news, and only after watching it announced did Abdulrazak Gurnah believe his good fortune at becoming this years Nobel Laureate in Literature.  In his interview with Admin Smith, Abdulrazak Gurnah expressed complete shock and bewilderment at learning the news he was the years Literature Laureate. This is the same experience the rest of us shared; as Abdulrazak Gurnah mentioned to Adam Smith, leading up to the announcement of the Nobel Prize generally (and there is) a lot of talk regarding specific writers, this year some of the usual suspects were being considered as possible contenders for the Nobel Prize for Literature such as: Haruki Murakami, Anne Carson, Jon Fosse, and Margaret Atwood; followed up with some new comers Annie Ernaux who was touted in the days leading up to the Nobel Prize for Literature announcement, as the most possible candidate for this years prize. Yet on October 7^th, rather then reading out the name of one of the perennial candidates, Mats Malm named Abdulrazak Gurnah as the winner. Initially there was delight in hearing the news that an unknown even obscure writer had received the prize, which was quicky followed up with disappointment to learn that it went to another English language writer. The English language has received a great deal of attention from the Nobel Prize for Literature over the previous years. I lamented last year when discussing the Nobel recognition of Louise Glück that it appeared that the Nobel Prize for Literature was merely be passed between Europe and the United States year after year. This immediately felt much the same way, yet again.
 
Any disappointment that I held initially against Abdulrazak Gurnah quickly subsided after a review of his literary work and scholarly research. When referring to his reasons as to why he choses to write in English. In the same fashion as Chinua Achebe and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o who both (in the case of Thiong’o at one point in time) wrote in English, the language of the colonizer. There are complex concerns regarding language, politics, and the role of colonization and the postcolonial perspective. Though at one-point Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o wrote in English (the colonial language of Kenya) he eventually took on the literary mantel to preserve and disseminate the Gikuyu language through writing and publications. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o argues that in the inclusion and promotion of indigenous African languages are the cornerstone of reclaiming a postcolonial African identity and independence. Contrary Chinua Achebe expressed ambivalence to language, going so far as to state that the singular importance of a writer should be to write well regardless of language; though Achebe did recognize that language can be weaponized to destroy and brutalize a culture and people, and expressed that it can also be used in turn to revolt against colonial perspective through their own language. In the case of Abdulrazak Gurnah whose first language is Swahili and literary language is English, stated that the arguments presented by both Chinua Achebe and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o do not share his own understanding of language. The use of languages as his literary language stemmed from circumstance and environment. As a refugee in the United Kingdom and writing at the age of 21, Abdulrazak Gurnah read works in English, spoke English in his daily life, and then began to write in English. He will endorse the perspective that he learned English because of colonialism, but again the use of language is not viewed in any political or cultural perspective and incorporates phrases from Swahili into his language.
 
Despite writing in English, it is a safe conclusion in stating that Abdulrazak Gurnah is not a well-known writer in the English language speaking world either. Despite being nominated for the Booker Prize twice (1994 and 2001) Abdulrazak Gurnah has had an otherwise muted reception previously to the Nobel acknowledgement. Rather then being appreciated as a writer of ingenius novels and devastating exploration into the human condition; Abdulrazak Gurnah has found greater success as a scholar of postcolonial literature, a fact that is mentioned in the Nobel Committee’s Bio-Bibliography. Before his recent retirement, Gurnah was a distinguished professor of English literature and Post-Colonial Literature at the University of Kent, where his lectures focused on indepth studies and analysis of such prominent postcolonial writers as: Wole Soyinka of Nigeria, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o of Kenya, and Salman Rushdie of India. The experience of the displaced individual in a world of changing cultural dominance, colonialization, and disrupting oppressive political change, become key factors of Abdulrazak Gurnah’s creative narratives. As both scholar, writer and citizen, Gurnah has provided insight into the experience and tribulations of the refugee now castaway into the larger world where their cultural may no longer exist, and their country is embroiled in civil war or is oppressed by a new regime worst then its previous colonial predecessors. There are the misplaced dreams of a new world and a new bright future, which become inaccessible societies where one looks in, but cannot participate in.
 
The experience of the refugee and the displacement of the individual in a postcolonial world are some of he most paramount themes and preoccupations of Abdulrazak Gurnah’s work, and steam from personal experience. Born and raised in Zanzibar – an autonomous region of what is now Tanzania – Abdulrazak Gurnah was displaced as a young adult during the Zanzibar Revolution, which overthrow the Sultan and his Arab court by ethnic Africans, what followed suit was the merger of Zanzibar and Tanganyika into the present-day Tanzania. What followed was persecution and oppression which forced Gurnah to flee the islands he had called home and seek refuge in England. The literary works of Abdulrazak Gurnah focus on the experiences of exile, refugees, asylum, displacement, colonial histories and postcolonial fractured states, belonging, and the dissolution of the state. This inevitably can be considered a political statement. The current migrant crisis or refugee crisis taking place all over the world, and the brutality and hostility that greets these individuals is stomach churning. Recently, one can only think of the images of the border agents in Texas on horseback corralling and charging Haitian refugees. The fear and turmoil displayed was not only disgusting it was inhumane. Regardless of the legal status of these individuals, care and diplomacy should be exercised. The images of white men on horseback in cowboy hates were immediately compared to slave trade and the apprehension of the former slaves of the southern state. Furthermore, who can forget the plight and horror that took place in Afghanistan as Kabul fell. The sheer desperation riddled across the face of all those at the airport seeking to flee, to run, to seek some refuge or asylum elsewhere; and yet they too were turned away or shot. All the while like sharks or starved hyenas the Taliban and its pugnacious indoctrinated delinquents circled the parameter with a vulture’s keenness. Yet, whether we like to admit it or not, the refugee crisis that we are currently facing on a global stage, has veered the ugly head of postcolonial realities as the displace seek homes elsewhere, as their own fall into civil war or oppressive regimes.
 
The discussion of the plight of the refugee is a unique one. The theme is not only relevant, but I suspect will become increasingly predominant in the coming years. The Swedish Academy’s decision to award the Nobel Prize for Literature to a writer whose work directly addresses these issues is a political message. Now this should not diminish Abdulrazak Gurnah’s win as political pandering, but it does showcase to a degree that the Swedish Academy does have a way of making both political and social statements. This same statement can be said true regarding Herta Müller and Svetlana Alexievich whose awards could be considered political in their decisions as well. Though just as in the case of Herta Müller with her restrained poetic pointillistic prose, and Svetlana Alexievich with her beautiful recordings and renderings of the experience of the individual through crisis and history; Abdulrazak Gurnah will be found to have more literary merit, which will undoubtfully outweigh the political context.
 
The only other writers that I can think of that Abdulrazak Gurnah reminds me of (at least by Nobel Prize winning standards) is V.S. Naipual and Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio. I suspect, however, that Abdulrazak Gurnah will be a worthy Nobel Laureate on his own merit and in his own fashion. I do think the perspective in which Abdulrazak Gurnah writes from is very different from both V.S. Naipual and JMG Le Clézio as Naipaul wrote from the perspective of being a product of colonialization, and Le Clézio wrote with an anthropologists examination of different civilizations and societies with respect and admiration; whereas Gurnah’s work is uniquely from the perspective of the displaced and disposed, who are left stranded and castaways into the greater world and find a new home in exile.
 
As I begin to wrap up my thoughts on this year’s writer, it came to my attention that Ellen Mattson of the Nobel Committee gave a interview with a Swedish Newspaper where she provided an overview and personal thoughts on this years Nobel Laureate. The immediate question that was asked of her was did she have any recommendations in which to get acquainted with she recommended: “Paradise.” She provided some insight into his use of English language as his literary language, describing it as generous and spacious, with the ability to accommodate his experiences in a literary fashion. All in all this interview seemed to be far more insightful into the writer at a more palpable glance then the dissertation provided by Anders Olsson and the woodiness of Mats Malm. If can Gentle Reader, and if you can find the interview and get a decent translation, it is a warm and welcoming introduction into the perspective of Abdulrazak Gurnah as a writer, it is insightful and warm. I’d like to shamelessly recommend Ellen Mattson as the new Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy and ending this dull reign of the Mats Malm and Anders Olsson show.
 
All in all, Gentle Reader this has been a remarkable year for the Nobel Prize for Literature. I asked for a surprise and the Swedish Academy indulged and obliged. Here’s hoping they’ve returned to some roots within their mandate (whatever it maybe) of now and then just giving the literary world a big: Fuck You(!), with a writer we haven’t read or have neglectfully overlooked. There is bit a kernel of disappointment knowing that the award went to yet another English language novelists, but I truly believe that the unique perspective that Abdulrazak Gurnah brings to the award and to the literary world and the world at large as it faces a continued refugee crisis, all but makes up for the fact that he writes in English. Bravo to the Swedish Academy this year, you pulled a surprise, flipped the bird, and did the can-can in one go! I can’t remember being this surprised and amused since the late 2000’s.  
 
Congratulations are in order to Abdulrazak Gurnah, this appears to be a well-deserved recognition. I looked forward to reading and hearing his Nobel Lecture, as in previous interviews that I have been able to watch he appears to be a thoughtful and erudite man, a articulate and commanding speaker who knows how to engage with his audience. I think his insight and perspective will be acknowledged and welcomed. Very well done, and very well deserved. I look forward to giving his novels a try in the near future.
 
Congratulations Abdulrazak Gurnah!
 
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
 
M. Mary

Post Script 

October 10, 2021

 
Hello Gentle Reader, 
 
It has come to my attention over the past few hours that there may be misunderstandings of my current perspective of this years Nobel Laureate, Abdulrazak Gurnah and a previous Nobel Laureate in Literature, Kazuo Ishiguro (2017). 
 
In this years write up I did lament that yet again another English language writer has received the Nobel Prize for Literature, which does seem very closed off to the potential to other languages. Reviewing the past 6 years of the Nobel Prize for Literature do show that English is the dominant Literary language: 
 
2016 - Bob Dylan - United States, English Language
2017 - Kazuo Ishiguro - United Kingdom, English Language 
2018 - Olga Tokcarzuk - Poland, Polish Language 
2019 - Peter Handke - Austria,  German Language 
2020 - Louise Gluck - United States, English Language 
2021 - Abdulrazak Gurnah - Tanzania (Zanzibar), English Language 
 
When reviewed in this context it does appear that the Nobel Prize for Literature conventionally favours the English language with four of the previous six writers having English as their literary language. Two writers, it appears, have created a contestation of what we decide to view as a writer and their literary language versus their heritage. 
 
In 2017, I argued that the Nobel Laureate in Literature Kazuo Ishiguro was a quintessentially English writer, and in early in his career, Ishiguro downplayed the notion or comparison of his work to the 'idea,' of what Japan is or what it means to be viewed as Japanese through Anglophone lens. In this, I think Ishiguro maintained a perspective that was a English language writer first, at leas tin order to avoid the awkward questions regarding heritage and cultural impacts and connections. Later, however, Ishiguro does recognize that his Japanese heritage and upbringing have played a significant role in developing his literary taste and perspective. In my previous post there were comments and discussions that I agree to saying were not aligned with my personal perspectives, and have since re-wrote and removed those comments. I wont hide the fact that I find the decision to award Kauzo Ishiguro a slightly tepid choice. It did not seem inspiring to me and like others have said before and later, it did seem like a compromising choice. I will say, however, "The Remains of the Day," is one of the most powerful and emotionally restrained books, I have ever read. Stevens is the most bewildering character, so stunted by duty, one can barely imagine him having a heart, if it weren't for his existential naivety. 
 
Discussing a writers literary language is now apparently a controversial topic, or at least a difficult one to get ones footing on firm ground. This years Nobel Laureate for example, Abdulrazak Gurnah discussed his decision to write in English in an interview 11 years ago in Magil (Interview with Abdulrazak Gurnah,), Gurnah deferred to sharing the perspective regarding colonial language and redeploying the indigenous language. As previously mentioned is that Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o argues that in order to reclaim Africa as independent from its colonial rule, the colonial language must be abandoned, as like a virus it infects perspective, opinion, and understanding within the greater context. Chinua Achebe argued that the language of the colonizer can be usurped from within, and be adapted to reclaim that heritage. Abdulrazak Gurnah has obviously studied both of these perspectives in his scholarly research, but does not associate with either opinion that either Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o and Chinua Achebe maintain. Instead, Gurnah expressed that writing in English came about through circumstance of the time, but does state that his experiences of living in Zanzibar, and the memories of that land, culture, and heritage are form an imaginary landscape that are then transplanted into the English language, which Gurnah has expressed as being generous and capable in conveying his work. 
 
What separates Kazuo Ishiguro and Abdulrazak Gurnah regarding their literary language is how they came to it. Kazuo Ishiguro along with his parents moved to the United Kingdom (at the time for a short time) and then stayed. Obviously Kazuo Ishiguro became accustomed to the culture of the time (after all, he's a self-professed fan and admirer of Bob Dylan, and wanted to be a musician as well, and still has a strong connection to music), and his literary works (with the exception of his two first novels) exist either in a explicit idea of what is Anglophone in character (a country house, a English boarding school, or the post-Arthurian landscape) which there is nothing wrong with it. Admittedly, I don't think Kazuo Ishiguro is the most influential English language writer of the time, nor do I think he was the most stellar Nobel Laureate in Literature (though if it came down to Kazuo Ishiguro or Martin Amis, I'd take Ishiguro). I don't think writing in English was a conscious decision for Ishiguro, I believe it was the language he is most informed with and has masterful grasp over, and by stating he's an English language writer is not an insult to Ishiguro by any means, and its never meant that way. 
 
I think Abdulrazak Gurnah has looked at the concept of language without placing the inflection of politics and cultural identity on it. The themes, however, are very unique to Gurnah. The perspective of the refugee, of exile, of displacement, of the fracturing disillusionment of the postcolonial world, these are explicitly palpable experiences and perspectives that have informed Gurnah's work, and are expressed in his work. this makes him different from Kazuo Ishiguro, where one can view that Kazuo Ishiguro's perspective of language is by exposure and integration into the everyday existence; while Abdulrazak Gurnah may use English as a method to survive. 

On the topic of language, heritage, and cultural background it can become convoluted. Take for example Herta Muller the Romanian born German language writer. What is Herta Muller? Is she a Romanian due to her birth and homeland? Or is she a German because she has resided in Germany since the 80's and her literary language is German? Yet, most of Muller's work takes place in the former Communist Romania. Herta Muller has described being an outsider both in Romania and in Germany. For example, she once said in Romania she's a German, while in Germany she's the Romanian. For Muller, language can be homeland, which ultimately was German; though the Banat of Romania was the physical space of home, and the Romanian language provided a sensual perspective in addition to the  exactness of German. Such as in an interview (which I cannot locate) she said that the two languages looked at the world in different ways. For example, shooting stars, in Germany you made a wish; while in Romania, it signified a soul passing on. In lacking the interview, I did find the following insightful article by Herta Muller (The Space between Languages). 
 
The question of language will become an increasingly a unique dynamic when discussing writers and the Nobel Prize for Literature moving forward, as its already happening now. Language in some circumstances is packed in the suitcase and can be utilized wherever in the globe. Take for example the Canadian writer Mavis Gallant, who moved Paris in the 1950's, but wrote in English; while conversely, the Japanese born Canadian writer, Aki Shimazaki immigrated to Canada and writers in French (she is by the way criminally neglected in translation into English!), is Shimazaki now a French language writer or a Japanese writer? At one point does the literary language inform the writer? This question can be applied to Vénus Khoury-Ghata (born in Lebanon, but lives in Paris and writes in French), or Amina Saïd of Tunisia, whose literal language is French; or Yoko Tawada who does not come from the colonial background, but writes in both Japanese and German with ease, and the use of these languages is said to influence style preoccupations. 
 
Then of course there is the Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o perspective, where in order to be considered a true African writer, they must abandon the colonial language and begin to hard work of revitalizing and disseminating indigenous languages of the region, as the colonial language infects the perspective of the African experience in a colonial terms. Though I completely agree with the need to revitalize and regain the indigenous languages, cultures, and traditions that were brutally forced out of the continent and the many different countries of Africa, I feel this perspective abandons and alienates writers such as: Mia Couto, Eduardo Agualusa, and Wilma Stockenström because they don't write in an indigenous language. 
 
The transcultural and transcending perspective of language is going to become a more paramount topic as writers become more cross-border or even borderless. Language in some circumstances becomes home. A suitcase in which one can live or hold on to their rooted linguistic sense of self and place. While others are forced to adapt to new languages and new perspectives to survive. And others retake language to regain their own culture and agency that was denied or attempted at being erased by colonial forces. Admittedly, as previously stated my assessment of Kazuo Ishiguro was harsh and yes offensively unfair and ungenerous. I've certainly reworded and rephrased my comments and criticisms of Kazuo Ishiguro. Is he my preferable Nobel Laureate? No. Was I disappointed in his win? Yes. Is he deserving of the Nobel Prize? That's a matter of taste and opinion; no different then John Steinbeck or Pearl S. Buck or Jaroslav Seifert. 
 
I hope this clarifies controversy and confusion.