by Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty
[box]In the form of a letter to his editor, requesting for an extension, Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty shares some interesting thoughts on the art of writing including the world of characters. In the process, he explains why he can’t turn up a story on time because his character Bincuus (from the published piece ‘The Dream Bandit’ in the June 2010 issue of Spark) is busy and hasn’t returned to tell the author his story.[/box]You think it is easy for us, don’t you? How many times have we not heard it said that while the rest of the world grapples with reality, we stay at home all day – doing nothing at all, dreaming up fantasies with scant regard for reality, twirling air into misty impossibilities? Sure, you take us to be nothing better than crazy puppet masters of an imaginary orchestra.
It’s one thing for the lay-man to pass such casual and careless remarks. But even you? Aren’t you supposed to be supporting us? Helping us carve out the best for the rest? Instead you just keep nagging us. Nagging us with your endless reminders of that mighty sanctified deadline. I know it is your job to get things done, and done at the right time, but could you not be just a little more understanding? I also know you pretend to believe that you do understand the demands of my profession. And yet, you stop not short of conjuring up a situation where Panic and Peril loom large and dark, shrouding some unknown disaster. Maybe it is the compulsive need to flex your power, or perhaps even a helpless gasp to share your own misery. Whatever that may be, it is our fault too; for far too long we have let you believe in an illusion. And it is time that I let you onto a secret…
We, writers, do not – I repeat – do not dream up any of those stories. You thought, didn’t you, that all those masterful plots, those suspenseful build-ups, those climactic finishes, those tales of love and joy, of longing and despair, of hatred and war, all those laugh riots, those games and those wars, of heroes falling and phoenixes rising, were just played out in the minds of individuals? You really believed that they never really happened except on those pages – yellow and soiled, or perhaps, fresh and glistening. Well, you thought wrong! All those things you read up in the name of fiction do actually happen. You just don’t know where! I know what you are thinking – then how do we writers know?
Before I answer that question, it is imperative that I let you know that this reporting business is not some newfangled philosophical rant, nor is it a fresh development in the scheme of things. It has been in place ever since ‘stories’ have been told. I wonder if someone out there might have not already started suspecting that there was something not quite right with this fiction stuff – after all, so many stories start with ‘Once upon a time…’! At least to me, that sounds more of a narration than some fiction that never happened.
But, I am rambling…
Let me get back to that question. So how do we know? Honestly, we don’t! We are, after all, men and women just like you. Well, not exactly like you. But, we certainly do not know where that place exists where all those ‘stories’ happen. Then, how do we know about those stories? You see, the thing is, and here comes the humdinger disclosure – there are a few ‘characters’ out there who have figured out a way to travel back and forth between their place and our place. Our singular source of information about what goes on in their place is these ‘characters’. We merely report whatever they tell us about their place.
So, what does it take to be chosen and to be given the ability to communicate with these ‘characters’? I will not answer that question. Instead I will just ask you one thing: “Can you write like us?” Lessons of humility inculcated since early days of childhood do not permit me to leave that question dangling with such a notorious air of arrogant swagger. Therefore, as a softener, let it be known that the actual selection process is through the diktats of a pre-historic covenant. You can know about it only if you are a part of it. But, I have broken one too many covenant rule already and I must desist from disclosing this grand-master golden secret. I am sorry.
Instead, as a compromise, let me relate to you an incident that was never told. Yes, this is one more thing. Some ‘stories’ never get told.
Mostly that is because there is a falling out between the characters and the writer/communicator. It so happens that writers have this huge ego and a compulsive need to spice up things. The ego part is not the problem though because these ‘characters’ themselves are massive egomaniacs insisting that theirs be the first ‘story’ that is written. It is only the spicing up part that leads to all the trouble.
Such was the problem with Dickens and Darnay. Remember ‘A Tale of Two Cities?’ Carton did come by and rescue Darnay. Though Darnay didn’t leave any stone unturned to drive home the point to Dickens that he was out and out an admirable young fellow, he did really have a great deal of genuine aristocratic honour. And he didn’t quite like the ending Dickens chose. Twenty-three wasn’t Carton. Guess what happened? Unlikeliest of unlikely – the Cheshire Cat paid a visit in the nick of time. Why? Well, blame the Hatter for fraternal love! Carton and Hatter were cousins. It was Hatter who requested Cheshire to do something. With a cheek full of tongue and face full of grin, Cheshire did! Dickens ended with his master stroke: ‘…it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.’ But, of course, it was! Carton got to go to the mad party at Hatter’s. Darnay had told Dickens about Carton’s rescue. But then Dickens did his spicing, and we never got to hear what happened to Carton in Wonderland!
So, at the end of it all, why am I telling you all this? As I had pointed out at the very beginning, it is your fault, entirely. You had been prodding, jabbing, pushing and finally shoving me into that built-up image of an impending disaster at not being able to meet the deadline, so much so that I was really moved to despair. I had to explain to you why I am not being able to come up with a new ‘story’. Too much has been made of ‘writer’s block’ when the truth was a straight-forward incommunicado with one’s source – the ‘characters’. How are we supposed to tell you the ‘story’ when we don’t have any thing new to relate? How does that happen?
Well, these ‘characters’ are real people too – in their world. They have their engagements, too; their own businesses to take care of. And sometimes, like Long John Silver, they just disappear.
What is my excuse, then? You see, my ‘character’ is Bincuus. And, he has been a bit too overly busy with his mission-scale plans of making his society stand on its head and thus save it from disaster. That is what he believes. The last time I heard from him, his teacher Mr. Mann had not turned him over to the authorities. Until Bincuus returns with a ‘story’, I am stuck. I just can’t help it.
I know this is way too much to take in all at once. You might also think that this is just some cunning ruse to circumvent the mighty deadline. Credibility is an issue that bothers the most imaginative among us, yet, there is nothing as more convincing as when you get to become part of that very incredible thing, which seemed to tease you once. It happened to me. I can only say, just give it time – who knows, the Covenant might get to you too!
Be that as it may, I am sorry for the inconvenience that you will invariably believe I have created for you. Here’s hoping Bincuus returns soon.
Yours sincerely,
Jeevanjyoti Chakraborty
Pic : Gabriella Camerotti – http://www.flickr.com/photos/face_it/
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