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.