Ayu cheers up gloomy literature scene

Ayu cheers up gloomy literature scene

By Prasetyohadi

JAKARTA (JP): A young writer has provided solace for the
Indonesian literary scene, which has been in the shadow of
prevailing gloom, with a unique novel.

Deep, mesmerizing chains of reflection-imbibed prose combined
with a prolific mastery of the Indonesian language earned Ayu
Utami the Chairil Anwar Literary Award organized by the Jakarta
Arts Council.

Having read Ayu's novel, Saman, noted poet and literatus
Sapardi Djoko Damono, who was a member of the jury, said the work
astonished him.

"Spellbinding! Where might this woman have learned the
language," he said, adding that he felt compelled to take a
refresher course in Indonesian to remedy the protracted literary
drought he may be suffering as a result.

Sapardi said the jury was relieved that Indonesian could still
be written in a "well-defined, efficient, flexible yet elegant
manner".

The general public has expressed concern over the poor state
of literature, as reflected in the small number of literary works
published. There has been a shortfall in the teaching of
literature to students in most schools. And the lack of freedom
of expression has discouraged those in literary circles from
penning quality, creative work.

The writing contest itself was a victim. It was suspended for
more than 10 years due to financial problems.

Ayu, 30, beat 68 other contestants with her story which traces
the experiences of three young, urban, middle-class women
wrestling with self-identity and whose lives become entwined in
love affairs and social issues.

The complex story develops gracefully around the life choice
made by a Catholic priest, Wisanggeni, nicknamed Saman, who the
women met while he was a school teacher.

The priest experiences inner turmoil over his religious
pursuit and decides to promote social justice through his
involvement in a labor struggle at a plantation owned by tycoons
in South Sumatra.

The priest plays a large role and, during the novel's
creation, he came to life and occupied more pages than Ayu had
initially planned.

Ayu conveys the priest's agony when he is arrested and
tortured by company-paid security personnel.

"... He woke up feeling as small as a bodiless head. He was
confined within his head. No fingers, no heart. Blurred. 'Is it
night am I in my mother's womb? For I feel warm and wet'. Then
came the glow of a meteor. That was the first vision he had. But
the light did not come from an asteroid, or a meteor, but the
roof as the fetal membrane parted. He was sucked into the
whirlpool along with the uterus bubble. Then, as the sky
completely ripped apart, the first thing he saw was his mother's
face behind a pair of mountainous breasts. Snow on the
nipples ..."

Ayu employed a new storytelling technique, using literary gaps
to enhance suspense and enrich it.

The result: it makes readers gasp as the story's irregular
sequence unfolds with skillful maneuvering, including its erotic
e-mail correspondence.

Ayu, who had been preoccupied with journalism, never imagined
herself writing a literary work until she found the somewhat
bohemian, learned community of Teater Utan Kayu in East Jakarta.

Inspired and managed by poet and journalist Goenawan Mohamad,
the community provides an atmosphere where people can discuss
issues ranging from Indonesian affairs, recent political and
economic issues to philosophical questions and rare, quality
films to diverse art performances.

Goenawan characterized Ayu as a "quick-learning" and sometime
pensive writer.

Her closeness to the Utan Kayu community, and particularly
with Goenawan, has prompted accusations in journalistic and
literary circles that Goenawan wrote the novel for Ayu.

"The accusation is irrelevant," she replied bitterly.

Ayu said the novel itself employs at least five different
language styles, that could not have come only from Goenawan, for
instance.

She admitted there were people who assisted her in the
creation stage by casting an eye over her drafts. But, they did
no more than comment whether it was all right or not, she said.

Writing a good novel involves other people, an undertaking
seldom exercised by Indonesian story writers, because an author
himself/herself is not able to have a detailed knowledge on all
the issues an extended story requires, she added.

The novel was submitted under the pen name Jambu Air and
Sapardi said that regardless of the writer's identity, the story
itself was fascinating.

Besides Ayu's innovative writing style, which the jury
described as ahead of its time, he said, the author had yet to
define where the trend was heading in Indonesian literature.

The literary circle awaits critiques on the story.

Ayu has written four short stories which were published in
magazines such as the women's weekly Femina and the men's monthly
Matra, where Ayu had worked for some months as a stringer.

She was a journalist at Forum Keadilan and D&R news weeklies
before she recently joined the local cultural journal Kalam.

While studying at the School of Russian Linguistics at the
University of Indonesia, Ayu was more interested in modeling. Her
exotic face has appeared on the cover of some popular, Jakarta-
based magazines.

A Jakartan from a traditional family -- she grew up in the
prestigious Kebayoran Baru quarters of a government attorney --
Ayu forced herself to get close to "the origin of language
consciousness".

"I learn Indonesian from anything I encounter," she quipped.
"I like to hear and listen to sounds including music, putting
aside all school material."

While listening to the world around her for inspiration, Ayu
also found her voice by reading one of the world's renowned
literary achievements.

"At one time I was reading nothing but the Bible, from which I
learned a lot about literature," she said, adding that the Old
Testament had a great influence on her literary ability.

Her novel is couched in the persistent eloquence of women
seeking justice in a patriarchal world but it does not hinder the
protagonists from revealing their character and allowing the
tangibility of various daily problems to arise.

"Women shall themselves interpret what sex is all about. It
definitely does not belong merely to men," Ayu said, adding that
some had criticized her description of sex as being "sometimes
indecent".

Such criticism is not surprising as a similar comment was made
when people first read Belenggu by distinguished author Sutan
Takdir Alisjahbana in 1933.

Ayu selectively adopted biblical symbols to assert sexual
imagination which offer new perspectives on sexual life. She
twisted, for instance, the patriarchal myopia of a Genesis story
then indulged in the graphic celebration of the Salomon Canticle
and fearsome yet mysterious dream of apocalyptic revelation.

At one point, her novel says the imbalance of intimate
relationships could definitely be repaired if one living in a
society where sex is taboo dares to take the spiritual fruits by
piercing through outrageous thoughts.

And the novel is not the end of Ayu's storytelling as she is
now working on the second part of the novel.

For those who have not read her prose, the following is the
opening, a description of Laila Gagarina's feelings while in
Central Park, New York, 1996:

"In this park, I am a bird.

Having flown a thousand miles from a country not knowing the
seasons, migrating to find spring, where the grass' fragrance
evaporates, also trees, of which we do not know the names or the
age.

Wood fragrance, stone coldness, the smell of bushes, do they
have names or ages?

Humans name them, as parents name children, though the plants
are older. Rafflesia Arnoldi does not grow in Central Park but in
tropical forest on the Malay highland, but we know the English
later fathered the flower.

People are talking about anything that grows, either
cultivated or wild, as if they know them more than the tree
trunks feel the cold and the scorching sun, or the earth's
warmth. But animals did not learn them by their names, as mothers
or mates do not call their hatched and suckled by names. They
know without words."