The tale of Indonesia's literary figures

The tale of Indonesia's literary figures

By R. Masri Sareb Putra

JAKARTA (JP): The six-day Meeting of Indonesian Literacy IX,
held in the West Sumatran towns of Bukittinggi and Kayutanam,
ended Thursday. The government's presence among the 400
participants, including delegates from Brunei Darussalam and
Malaysia, was encouraging.

Attendees included Minister/State Secretary Moerdiono,
Minister of Education and Culture Wardiman Djojonegoro and
Minister of Religious Affairs Tarmizi Taher.

Yet the writers, the same people who project spontaneity and
innocence in their works, said that merely showing up was not
enough, and accused the government of being responsible for
marginalizing them through neglect.

Poet Suparwan G. Parikesit asked: "If billions are spent on
sports, why is it that hardly anything is spent for the progress
of our nation's literature?"

Moerdiono immediately responded with a pledge of Rp 100
million toward that end. He said half would go to the event's
organizing committee, and the rest to noted author Satyagraha
Hoerip to assist in the publication of his three-volume anthology
of Indonesian short stories. Satyagraha, also known as Pak Oyik,
has complained about the obscure fate of the project, apparently
hampered by financial constraints.

There is no denying the importance of literature. We put into
practice in our daily lives the philosophical wisdom we find in
literature. A reflection of the masses and society, literary
works teach, inspire and help us solve complex issues in our
lives.

Poet Vossius in his book, Poeticarum Institionum Libri Tres
(1647), stated the importance of literature in society, and
defined poets as moral teachers.

Underscoring Vossius' statement is the flow of French
classics, that followed in the wake of Greek and Roman classics
in categorizing artists as moral upholders in society.
Seventeenth century French critic Nicolas Bolieau once told poets
that "in the wisdom of your rich poetry, you combine the right
and the meaningful with pleasure".

It is maintained that literature is comprised of dulce et
utile, the beautiful and useful, and it is true that one derives
benefits, and not just pleasure, from reading.

Here, literature is viewed as a natural expression of
humankind that speaks of beauty and enjoyment (homo ludens), and
paidia, or games. Nevertheless, literature contains assumptions
that lead people on the right path.

If both literature and literary writers are generally
considered important, why are they marginalized in the reality of
our daily life?

The answer is simple.

Let's be honest, exactly what percentage of our nation's 200
million people care about literature? This lack of interest is
understandable because people living in a developing nation are
still focused on fulfilling immediate, functionary needs.

In other words, the existence of literature, although
considered important, is not urgent. People need to fill their
stomachs, but they can live without studying literature.

There is still a prevalent belief here that literature must be
useful, educative, convey a moral message and build values. Some
even believe that literature is the reflection of society.

The irony is that both literature and the fate of our writers
are discerning issues that need to be dealt with.

In the royal era, there was full attention to the state of the
pujangga, the poets. Entertainers (pelipur lara) were civil
servants, and poets depended on the fixed salaries provided by
the king. Writers had a noble position in society, and their
profession was no less prestigious than clerks.

This profession was given its rightful place in society with
the founding of the Balai Pustaka publishing house on Sept. 22,
1917, which began to regularly publish distinguished literary
works.

These included the works of Merari Siregar, author of Azab dan
Sengsara (Grief and Sorrow, 1920), Muhammad Yamin, who penned the
famous poem, Tanah Air (Homeland, 1922) and Marah Rusli, writer
of Siti Nurbaya (1922). Then came Rustam Effendi's dramatic
works, published and titled Bebasari (1926), and Abdul Muis'
novel Salah Asoehan (Ill-bred, 1928).

In contemporary times, the fate of writers in our country has
depended on publishers, cultural magazines and newspapers with
literary or cultural columns. Literary writers were paid for
their works in magazines like Basis (founded 1951), Kisah (1953),
Sastra (1961) and Horison (1966). As writers preferred the more
lucrative living to be made from writing for magazines instead of
books, then Minister of Education and Culture Nugroho Notosusanto
introduced the term Majalah Sastra (literary magazine) to
Indonesian society in 1954.

This trend has not changed in the last 30 years. It is common
to find Indonesian writers compiling short stories, already
printed in newspapers or magazines, into a book, novelettes or
novels.

The question is whether it is unethical to make a book out of
works already published. This too, depends on perceptions. Here
"situational" ethics come into play; since all writers do it, it
is not considered wrong, particularly since they receive double
payment.

To the detriment of writers, the last three years has seen the
national press giving more importance to business concerns than
the moral messages conveyed by literary writings. Newspapers
would rather have their space filled with advertisements than
writings. Writers are finding it more difficult than ever to earn
a living.

What do writers of literature earn? A short story published in
a newspaper can bring the writer between Rp 150,000 and Rp
300,000. It is less for poetry, more for a novelette and much
more for a short story series. This is not a bad living if the
works are published at least twice a month, as long as the writer
has other sources of income as well.

Even as literary works are compiled into a book, the fate of
the writer remains unchanged. Prospects of earnings from a
literary work -- in the context of this very slow moving business
-- are not promising.

A prominent writer is awarded a mere 10 percent royalty. For
example, if a 150-page book priced at Rp 15,000 per copy sells
500 copies in a year, it earns the writer Rp 1.5 million, or Rp
125,000 monthly. A productive writer who churns out four books a
year could earn Rp 500,000 a month.

This is no easy task as works are often rejected by
publishers. With uncertain income and a struggle to get their
works in print, the lot of writers today leaves a lot to be
desired.

The writer is an editor at a publishing company in Jakarta and
a freelance contributor to mass media publications.