IN CONVERSATION
‘I’m a journey writer’
MURALI N. KRISHNASWAMY
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A freewheeling chat with writer and poet Eddy L. Harris on his books, the African-American experience and his India visit.
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Photo: K. Pichumani
My culture is the American culture: Eddy L. Harris.
“Is it one country here or several countries glued together?”
TO author Eddy L. Harris, on his first visit here, India has been a very diverse experience. What it is long term and what it is that binds the people together, intrigue him. “It certainly isn’t the language,” he says. “I want
to explore it.” Harris was invited to the first Mussoori International Writer’s Festival. Sponsored by the U.S. State Department, he was in Chennai recently, as part of a speaking tour of India. Excerpts from an interview.
You are an author of critically acclaimed books Mississippi Solo: A River Quest, Native Stranger: A Black American’s Journey into the Heart of Africa, South of Haunted Dreams: A Memoir and Still Life in Harlem: A
Memoir to name a few. In these, though you explore places and the people within, you claim you aren’t a travel writer. How do you ‘slot’ yourself?
I don’t slot myself. I am a ‘journey writer’, if you can use such a term … as much interior as exterior. It’s all about the experience of learning about places. Travel writing is easy. I travel the way a person would travel. Coming to the point of Harlem, I lived there the way a person there would live in that place.
You have been placed in the ranks of (travel) writers like Pico Iyer, Lawrence Millman, Mark Jenkins. What are the challenges you face?
Challenges … being classified as a travel writer is one. It is more a designation. Bookstores need a label. The issue is really more about your artistic skill, talent, and creativity. In another way, challenge would also mean to be compared to someone like Pico Iyer. But why can’t Eddy Harris be Eddy Harris and Pico be Pico? In a way it is unfair. It all boils down to the commercial aspect.
What makes you African and what makes you American? You have said ‘I refuse to be black’. Is black culture to an extent American culture?
My culture is the American culture. American pop culture is built on black culture. Because of that strength, it is the basis of our culture. African? May be just the colour of my skin. There is nothing to tie me to Africa. There is very little about me that is African. What makes me American? That is the place whose air I breath. And now living in France, it opens me up even more.
In your writing around the African-American experience, how would you describe Harlem? Is it justified in having a bad rap — accusations of racism, violence, drugs, gang warfare?
It is both justified and unjustified. Stereotypes are both exploded and exaggerated. These in a way make it become a ghetto. But Harlem is a beautiful place. It has its hardships. It has a violent side. There is gunfire. I have got shot at. It is poorer than Beverly Hills. A bit of that is in the past … I lived there a while ago. Now, people downtown are moving uptown. It is a part of the ebb and flow of American society. Good, sometimes less good, sometimes better. As a black writer, Harlem is the Mecca of black Renaissance … many have cut their teeth there. It is a central place in the black American imagination.
Is there a divide between your father’s world — of strivers — and the world today?
In a way yes. We live a much easier life than they did in his world. Racism is softer but wears a different face. Then it was brutal. The threat of violence doesn’t seem to be there now. Strivers then meant it was a fight for equality and justice, Now it’s about economics. It’s a different sort of thing.
Moving out of America, to Africa, how was the experience of going back to a motherland, if you can call it that way?
You can’t call it that way. The first thing I realised was that I don’t belong there. Africa is another place. African-Americans don’t have a connection there any more than white Americans would. Blacks don’t travel there. Give them an option of a plane ticket to Abidjan, or to London and Paris and it would be to the latter.
You’ve squatted with nomads in Senegal … and gone seeking gorillas in Zaire. An interesting mix. You’ve even contributed to The Reader’s Companion to South Africa.
It’s more about my being whacky. It’s more about wanting to participate in their lives. To know what it is … to know what they are doing.
Another interesting thing was how you discovered why Gambians always have three cups of tea … Have there been other ritualistic images that have captivated you?
No more than any others. Tea drinking in West Africa was pretty interesting. Other rituals? Female circumcision is one. I have had a heated discussion on that. But it’s also about why should I have an opinion on other’s cultures? … some things are just wrong. Another is the tradition of God’s will. Not so much ritualistic but it affects the world. Everything is left to God. I had a problem with that … when people couldn’t do a thing, they just said it was God’s will. It drove me nuts. An example would be where this guy wanted a passport. There was an issue of bribes being involved. But the guy kept saying it was God’s will. Here the problem was with this passport official’s mind but the guy was willing to wait till God decided that he needed a passport. The issue was about how there is no control over corruption. In the end, it’s all about human interaction that can change all this … in my opinion.
What drew you to France? I also refer to a documentary on you by Holger Lang and Elisabeth Zoe Knass. How is life in Paris different from life in the U.S. Some of your books are available only in French.
… one book alone is available in French. About the documentary and what has drawn me there … Paris is nice. Calm, peaceful, sensual. It’s all about the good life … “fresh tomatoes and good red wine”. Life is less stressful, even though France is changing. In America, the work ethic is strong and you are who you are based on your attitude towards work.
How did France happen?
I moved to France when I was 18, then 20, then 22 years old. I told myself that this is a place I really like. France was a stopover while on my way to and from Africa. There is a connection. But it’s mostly accidental. It could have been anywhere.
Your current tour of India has seen you look at “American images” and the globalisation of literature. Could you elaborate on this?
Globalisation is always with us. Literature I use as a tool. Look back 4,000 years and see how people came together for trade. There has been an exchange of stories, histories, traditions, myths that have influenced other cultures. Although globalisation is now used as a modern term in terms of commerce, it has been going on since the beginning of human contact. Because America is so powerful, it tends to be one-sided. There is hardly any issue of imports. An Indian will know much more of American pop than vice-versa. My fear is that it (globalisation) will be more an imperial tool.
India has a tribe of African descent, the Sidis, who live in Gujarat. Have you made any attempt to reach out … to the African diaspora.
About the Sidis, I didn’t know about them! Maybe the next time I am here I could travel to Gujarat. … National Geographic asked me to do a travel route kind of a documentary.
Your experiences as a writer-in-residence.
It was great. But I spent too much time being a professor. Lots of money … and too available for my students. For me, as an experience it just didn’t work as I couldn’t get any writing done… it was mostly about creative writing and giving students opportunities to find ways to make that experience better.
I looked at black American literature … more a social experience, looking at it through the prism of social history and modern life.
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