When interviews are more than views

Rifat Munim explores quite a few minds
">Alapcharita Alapcharita
Rajniti, Sanskriti, Shomaj O
Shahitya Bishoyok
Shakkhatkar
Razu Alauddin
Pathak ShamabeshInterviewers are indebted to Derrida. It is from his thesis in 'The Law of Genre' that we infer that interviews, too, are narratives, with as much importance as any other form of writing such as critical essays or prose fiction. Of course, not all interviews deserve attention. Like bad poems or fiction, there are bad interviews. But then there are those given by Michelle Foucault, Edward Said, Noam Chomsky and Arundhati Roy. Reading their interviews, one can hope to learn things that are as illuminating as their original work. Eliciting such a response, however, depends more on the interviewer than on the interviewee. Razu Alauddin is one such interviewer. To Bengali readers he is mainly known as a translator who translates into Bengali from original Spanish. He is also a poet and writes intriguing critical pieces on literature, often drawing substantive comparisons between Latin American and Bengali authors, or between European and Bengali authors. But before he had left for Mexico, which was where he learnt Spanish and read all the major Spanish authors, he was a literary activist and journalist involved with many literary supplements and little magazines. It was then that he interviewed many of our writers, poets, thinkers and intellectuals. Alapcharita is a collection of those interviews which present us with many fundamental issues, different trends and long-standing divisions existing in Bengali literature. In these pages are interviewed Hasan Azizul Haque, Anisuzzaman, Al Mahmud, Shamsur Rahman, Syed Shamsul Haque, Ahmad Sofa, Abdul Mannan Syed, Farhad Mazhar, Humayun Azad, Syed Manzoorul Islam and Shankha Ghose, among many others. The questions Alauddin put to these literary masters are central to most debates in Bengali literature. The book also incorporates interviews of social worker and founder chairman of BRAC Fazle Hasan Abed, politician Abdul Mannan Bhuiyan, magician Jewel Aich and eminent painter Monirul Islam. Their reflections on the country's politics, art and social progress are another important aspect of the book. The interview with Hasan Azizul Haque is indeed revealing. He comments on issues like philosophy, nationalism and the field of criticism in Bengali literature.  He vehemently criticizes the invasion of western hegemony in each and every field. Above all, his two interviews are precious for young writers who will find the talk on his formative days as a writer very encouraging. Professor Anisuzzaman talks at length about the origin of the Bengali language, about communal elementsin Bankimchandra's novels, and also about the liberation war in 1971 and the constitution of the country. He makes the case that it is only in Anandamath that Bankimchandra overtly constructs degrading Muslim characters whereas in most other novels, the Muslims, whether male or female, are more gloriously drawn than the Hindu ones. Al Mahmud, in his interview, asserts that the pancha pandabs (five major poets) in the 1930s were not Bengali poets; they were rather European, both in terms of temperament and style. Shamsur Rahman, much like Hasan Azizul Haque, defies the idea of any basic difference in the language of the two Bengals. Thus the interviews appear to be a lot more than just views and reveal their ideological links, sometimes converging and forming one surging flow and sometimes conflicting, splitting into several divisive ones.  The lingering mudslinging between Sofa and Azad at the end not only speaks of that split but also constitutes a most interesting part of the book. All these make this book an important collection of many different trends and their trajectories in Bengali literature. Rifat Munim is In-Charge, Daily Star Books