T. J. Cribb, ed., The Power of the Word / La puissance du verbe: The Cambridge Colloquia
T. J. Cribb, ed. The Power of the Word / La puissance du verbe: The Cambridge Colloquia Cross/Cultures: Readings in the Post/Colonial Literatures in English 83. Amsterdam & New York, NY: Rodopi, 2006, XXIV, 197 p. Hb: 978-90-420-1938-6 / 90-420-1938-7. €46 / US$62
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1This book is the record of the contributions of scholars, artists and African and Caribbean writers of English and French expression to the bilingual Cambridge Colloquium, which provided a rare opportunity for the participants to conduct dialogues and express views across the politically imposed linguistic boundaries. The central theme of the discussions is the power of the word, but in a truly multimodal fashion it is extended to the exploration of the power of the pictorial image, the power of the word in music, and the power of the literary prize.
- 1 Osundare’s account of the linguistic processes in what he calls a grey zone, in his case the zone b (...)
- 2 Cf. Bill Ashcroft, Post-Colonial Transformations. London: Routledge, 2001, p. 63. In addition, Ahul (...)
2The writers are grouped in pairs representing the two language-cultures, and six out of the nine dialogues explore the power of the word from different perspectives. Some of the contributions focus on the practical aspects of conveying what Femi Osofisan calls the ‘polygamy of consciousness’ (26), which defines the multilingual writer. For example, Niyi Osundare from Nigeria and Henri Lopés from Congo investigate what happens to the word between word and word when an author thinks in one language and culture but writes in the language of another.1 While Osundare focuses on the creative process, the attractiveness of the emerging hybrid, and the difficulty of rendering Yorùbá poetry in English, Lopés’s main argument centres round the reasons for his “écriture métisse en langue française” (9), which he identifies as the acquisition of literacy in French and the lack of an alphabet, hence the lack of a written medium, in many African languages. Lopés also emphasizes that the language of literature is not the language people speak outside in the street - it only imitates and intimates linguistic reality.2
3Stimulating as they are, the testimonies of the writers do not go beyond what has already been subjected to scholarly research and widely written about. However, a novel and exciting aspect of the language question is addressed by the translator Christiane Fioupou. She talks about the difficulty of translating indigenized literary texts, pointing to translations of pidgin and Ken Saro-Wiwa’s ‘rotten English’ into French. She also poses the question of how the translator should approach the task, for example, of translating a poem which is conceived in Yorùbá, a tonal language, and written down in English, a stress-timed language, into French, which is neither tonal, nor stress-timed.
- 3 Pool, Steven, UnspeakTM. London: Little, Brown, 2006. 'Unspeak [is] a mode of speech that persuades (...)
4Others are more interested in what is universal, what is collective, and what is singular to humanity. Wilson Harris discusses intuition, the intangibility of the word born of it, and the “intangible word secreted in narratives” (37) as a gnostic dimension. Daniel Maximin takes an interest in the great silence from which the Caribbean emerged - in the absence of the word, the banning of the word, the imposed silence, the loss of memory for all the over-abundance that has constituted all cultures and societies but was suddenly lost in the betrayal and slavery in Black America. The power of the poem is highlighted by Lorna Goodison and Véronique Tadjo, who address the way in which poetry disarms and renders one vulnerable, how it is both power and powerlessness and how the human, personal dimension mixes in it with the big issues of life. ‘Unspeak’3 is explored by Wole Soyinka, while Assia Djebar discusses language politics, the introduction and subsequent monopoly of French in the Maghreb, and the brutal consequences of Arabization in Algeria. By explaining the powerful symbols represented by the deity Èshù in Yorùbá cosmogony, Biyi Bandele presents an account of his way into creativity, and Olabiyi Yaï illuminates, as Tim Cribb puts it, “the idea of the word as self-alienating, seeking its own alienation in order to reach for a word beyond” (180).
5Gerard Houghton’s exploration of the power of the image loses its force as only Houghton’s talk is recorded. The paintings he discusses are not reprinted in the book - they are accessible only on the October Gallery website. Whereas having to go online while reading this dialogue is impracticable, reading the text without the images greatly reduces the aesthetic experience. Similarly, while one takes great interest in the composition of Chaka, the historic facts and the intercultural origins of both music and libretto as one reads about them in Akin Euba’s contribution, a fuller appreciation of the power of the word in music would be achieved only if the reader were given access to the music. In our digital age, both the images and the music could have been easily made part of the book on a CD.
6The background to the Nobel Prize in Literature, the selection criteria and the difficulties the Academy members face when assessing authors from different cultures are discussed by Marika Hedin. It is reported that George Steiner, whose contribution was not recorded as it was not intended for publication, argued that the political and even private considerations of the Nobel committee devalued the Prize. Anthony Kwame Appiah, however, emphasizes the significance of the Nobel Prize in bringing together a small but engaged cosmopolitan readership.
7In this wide-ranging, deeply probing intercultural debate, as Tim Cribb points out in his introduction, little reference is made to postcolonial theory, discourse, or the terms used by poststructuralism and deconstruction. Even if we agree that neither the authors nor the critics are under any obligation to conform to each other, the gulf between them seems to suggest that while the writers face and deal with the stark reality of life on a daily basis, the critics inhabit a virtual reality, and the power of the word may be understood differently in these two separate realities. As Nouréini Tidjani-Serpos points out, the language belongs to the people, but because of the inaccessibility of books in Africa, the power of the writers’ words remains, iconically, among the elite and in the West.
Notes
1 Osundare’s account of the linguistic processes in what he calls a grey zone, in his case the zone between Yorùbá and English, testifies to Zabus’s theory of relexification, in which she identifies the one and the same text as the locus of the change happening between two languages. See Chantal Zabus, The African Palimpsest: Indigenization of language in the West African Europhone novel (Amsterdam - Atlanta, GA: Rodopi, 1991; rpt 2007), 101-108.
2 Cf. Bill Ashcroft, Post-Colonial Transformations. London: Routledge, 2001, p. 63. In addition, Ahulu has also found that indigenisation in the written medium is a distinctive feature of the language of literature. Samuel Tetteh Ahulu, English in Ghana (University of Cambridge, 1992.
3 Pool, Steven, UnspeakTM. London: Little, Brown, 2006. 'Unspeak [is] a mode of speech that persuades by stealth. E.g., climate change, war on terror, ethnic cleansing, road map' (front cover).
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Katalin Egri Ku-Mesu, “T. J. Cribb, ed., The Power of the Word / La puissance du verbe: The Cambridge Colloquia”, Commonwealth Essays and Studies [Online], 30.1 | 2007, Online since 07 January 2022, connection on 10 December 2024. URL: http://0-journals-openedition-org.catalogue.libraries.london.ac.uk/ces/9339; DOI: https://0-doi-org.catalogue.libraries.london.ac.uk/10.4000/ces.9339
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