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Sara
Suleri Goodyear is Professor of English at Yale University, the
founding editor of The Yale Journal of Criticism and on the editorial
board of The Yale Review and Transition. As an academic, her fields
of interest are listed as "Romantic and Victorian poetry
Edmund
Burke
" and her concerns "postcolonial literatures
and theory, contemporary cultural criticism, literature and law,
Urdu poetry."
Ms Suleri was born in Pakistan, grew up in Lahore, graduated
from Kinnaird College, did her Masters in English from Punjab University
and a doctorate from Indiana University. She encapsulated memories
of her Lahore childhood in her creative memoir Meatless Days (1989),
at the heart of which were the tragic accidents that killed her
mother and sister. Furthermore, as the daughter of the eminent journalist
Z.A. Suleri, she observed political events and political opinions
being forged from close quarters and wove the story of Pakistan
into her narrative. The book was remarkable for the quality of Suleri's
prose and her use of metaphor to define chapters, and not only marked
an important milestone in Pakistani English literature, but is now
one of the classical texts of South Asian English literature. She
went on to write a critical work The Rhetoric of English India (1992),
a rather complicated work, which explores the way English writing
was used to perceive and define the subcontinent, from the rhetoric
of Edmund Burke to the fiction of Salman Rushdie. The book also
includes discussions on Fanny Parkes, Kipling, E.M. Forster and
Naipaul.
She lives between Maine and New Haven and has recently published
another accomplished memoir Boys Will Be Boys: A Daughter's Elegy
about her journalist father. In this brief fax interview with Newsline,
she answers a few questions about her books.
Q: Meatless Days
was published in 1989. How did it evolve? Was it clear from the
first that it would not be a linear narrative? Did the use of metaphor
help you cope with the complexity of emotions?
A:
Meatless Days was inherently non-linear. It originated in an essay
about my Dadi: having written it, I felt compelled to extend my
celebration to other intimates and to Pakistan. Yes, metaphor can
ease the strain of grief.
Q: Since the process of writing a memoir is so intensely
personal, does it involve a journey of self-discovery?
A:
I am not sure that I have discovered anything in terms of "self-discovery."
But I have learned more about language.
Q:
Both your memoirs revolve around those you have loved and lost,
but are very different. How did you approach them?
A:
I was much younger when I wrote Meatless Days and I think my language
was more lubricated than it is now. Boys Will Be Boys was far more
difficult to write because it is an elegy; I wanted it to be a comic
elegy, if that is possible, and to intimate that I loved my father.
Q:
In Boys Will Be Boys, you have used Urdu phrases or couplets to
define chapters. Is this largely because it was your father's favourite
language or your own response to Urdu?
A:
By no means am I a scholar, but my life would not be complete without
the ghazal. This has little to do with my father, but simply my
love of the poetry.
Q:
You have discussed language and linguistic hybridity in the book.
Do you find any specific problems with the use of English as a creative
vehicle to express an experience of Pakistan?
A: Of course there are linguistic problems. I wish
I were truly bilingual, which I am not, and the only language I
can write in is English. In Boys Will be Boys, I attempted to honour
my love for Urdu in the chapter headings.
Q:
Both your books, particularly Boys Will Be Boys, move with great
ease between countries and cultures. You are constantly challenging
popular western notions of "cultural incompatibility"
and "the east-west" divide - embodied by your descriptions
of your Welsh mother in Lahore, and your visit to Kipling's House
in Vermont with your American husband. Did you ever suffer any form
of cultural conflict?
A:
This is a peculiar question. Moving between cultures is never easy.
I am very allergic to being called "exotic". At the same
time, I delight in being able to teach texts that would possibly
not have been taught at Yale University.
Q:
Your critical work, The Rhetoric of English India, explored English
writing from Burke in late eighteenth century to Naipaul and Rushdie
today. Where do you think South Asian English Literature and particularly
Pakistani English Literature are headed?
A: I think that the literature in English emerging
from the Indian subcontinent is some of the strongest, the finest.
We should have no doubt about that, or the future of its texts.
The best moment for me concerning The Rhetoric of English India
was a letter from Edward Said, who generously praised what I had
to say about Burke, Kipling and Rushdie, but chastised me for my
kindness to Naipaul.
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