Literary Life in Myanmar Under Censorship and in Transition
Ellen Wiles
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS NEW YORK
Columbia University Press
Publishers Since 1893
New York Chichester, West Sussex
cup.columbia.edu
Copyright 2015 Ellen Wiles
All rights reserved
E-ISBN 978-0-231-53929-6
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wiles, Ellen.
Saffron shadows and salvaged scripts : literary life in Myanmar under censorship and in transition / Ellen Wiles.
pages cm
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-231-17328-5 (cloth : acid-free paper) ISBN 978-0-231-53929-6 (ebook)
1. Literature and societyBurma. 2. Politics and literatureBurma. 3. CensorshipBurma. 4. Burmese literatureSocial aspects. 5. Burmese literaturePolitical aspects. 6. Authors, Burmese20th centuryBiography. 7. Authors, Burmese21st centuryBiography. 8. BurmaIntellectual life. 9. Social changeBurma 10. BurmaSocial conditions. I. Title.
PL3972 W55 2015
895.809dc23
2014050246
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COVER DESIGN: Michelle Taormina
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References to websites (URLs) were accurate at the time of writing. Neither the author nor Columbia University Press is responsible for URLs that may have expired or changed since the manuscript was prepared.
To my parents, David and Gayna Wiles, who cultivated in me curiosity and a love for culture and stories; and to Win Tin, who inspired generations of people in Myanmar to believe in the power of the pen
Contents
Monk at a bookstall
Poet Thet Swe Win burning a keyboard
U nder a roasting sun, in a small garden near a lake, in full view of a main road but without official permission, a man sets a keyboard alight. As the blaze takes hold, he pulls out a sheet of paper and begins reciting poetry. An audience clusters around him, leans in collectively to get a better view. The flames catch hold of some stray drops of petrol and shoot backwards, past the poet, multiplying tenfold, threatening to snarl into the door and engulf the building. There is a collective gasp. The poet continues unfazed. A quick-thinking man dashes inside, grabs a fire extinguisher, takes aim and expels the flames, leaving only a small flicker around the keyboard. The poet keeps on reading.
Beneath a tree at the back of a garden, a young woman dressed all in black sits, gazing mournfully, perhaps at the poet, perhaps at the audience, perhaps into the middle distance. She is surrounded by broken flower heads, yellows, reds, and pinks, all scattered around her on the emerald grass. Slowly, she reaches down to pick up a carnation from the ground. She holds it softly, cradles it in her left hand. In her right hand are a needle and thread, and attached to the thread is a small chain of flower heads. She pushes the needle gently through the flower, and it joins the chain.
Several prisoners died. Finally, fearing a public backlash, the government conceded. It shipped the remaining political prisoners back to the mainland to serve more comfortable sentences in purpose-built jails. Writers in the audience, from the same country, and little more than a generation later, listened and murmured to each other: how did I not know about this before today?
The day was March 29, 2013: the first ever public gathering in Yangon (Rangoon) to explore Myanmars art in transition. It was organized by the comedian and political activist Zarganar
I have many people to thank for helping me to make this book possible. My first and foremost thanks have to go to the writers featured in this book, for your generosity and enthusiasm while it was still a nascent idea, and of course for your words which make up a major part of it. Im also very grateful to filmmaker and translator Myat Noe for helping with initial translations; to journalist Kyi Min for introducing me to people and places in Yangon; to artist Ma Ei for introducing me to Aung Myint and sharing your knowledge of the visual arts scene; to filmmaker Min Htin Ko Ko Gyi for informing me about the world of film; to writer Chit Oo Nyo for explaining about Myanmars traditional theater and literature; to lawyer Hla Hla Yee and the YLC (Youth Legal Centre) team for educating me about the legal system and the myriad challenges for ordinary people; to Justice Base for giving me the opportunity to work on the rule of law in Myanmar; to the British Embassy for organizing the literary festival that sparked the idea for this book; and to everyone I met in Myanmar who enlightened me about their extraordinary country. Huge thanks to my editor at Columbia University Press, Anne Routon, for seeing the potential in this book and ably steering it toward publication. I am extremely appreciative of the time and effort expended by Anna Allott, David Wiles, Penelope Woods, and Sarah Polcz on reading sections of the text, and by Lucy Coggle on editing the photographs. Finally, thank you to my husband Sydney Nash for making our time together in Myanmar such a delightful adventure and for encouraging me to persevere with this project, and to baby Noah for napping just often enough that I was able to complete a final draft.
No matter what the state does, writers always seem to get the last word. The craft-solidarity of men and women of letterscan be surprisingly strong. And those who write the books, in an important sense, make history.
J. M. Coetzee (1996)
T his book is an ethnographic investigation of literary culture in Myanmar (Burma) under censorship, and the new directions it is taking now that the country has entered a phase of transition toward democracy. At its heart are the fascinating life stories and literary works of nine contemporary writers, all of whom I met when I was living in Myanmar in the first half of 2013. This was a time of huge change in the country. Until the previous year it had been ruled for five decades by one of the most brutal military juntas in the world. The junta imposed a highly repressive censorship regime that curbed all forms of expression and profoundly affected three generations of writers in multifarious ways.
Some writers were considered so dangerous they were imprisoned. All of them had to come up with creative ways to read, write, and publish what they wanted to, and simply to survive. Now that the country has entered transition, many are now brimming with new ideas for their writing and for the future, though still harboring a certain amount of fear or cautiousness. While some of the restrictive censorship laws have now been repealed, a number still remain, and a culture of self-censorship has proved hard to shake off. Nonetheless, all of the writers featured here were keen to share their life stories and work with the outside world after having been silenced for so long. This book is one way of giving them a mouthpiece, as well as enabling English-speaking readers to delve into their extraordinary lives and writing. By doing so, and by painting a picture of the way in which these writers lived, operated, and created under censorship, this book has broader purposes too. It seeks to show, as J. M. Coetzee puts it, how writers made history in Myanmar; to paint a picture of the profound and intricate consequences of a repressive censorship regime on those subject to it; and to explore the ways in which a post-censorship society can begin to transform.
