by Jessu John
[box]“Music and literature are like twins warring for attention in an artist’s mind,” says Jessu, as she traces a phase of the relationship that music and writing had with each other in her life.[/box]A few months ago, my piece here ‘Taking Music for a Walk’ explored how music shapes writing. As a writer, I like to appreciate a variety of art forms that may inspire and influence my art. At the same time, I always have a choice as to what I allow to influence me as an individual. So, I listen to all sorts of music and sometimes a tune somewhere gets me writing. I feel I need an expansive, accommodating spirit as a writer or I won’t stretch myself. I can’t claim I like jazz, but if I don’t ever try it, there may be a story that will never get written.
The best writers, in my view, allow certain influences in their writing without copying anyone or anything, and tell an original story with the help of creative twists and turns and pure inspiration from something they have seen or heard. Music, for example, has always been a popular source of inspiration to the most acclaimed writers we know.
In April 1999, Vikram Seth and Salman Rushdie, two novelists a lot of us writers revere for the forces they are, published their novels that had foundational links to music. At the time, I could not get beyond two pages of ‘Ground Beneath Her Feet’. It really wasn’t Rushdie’s fault. I was in a weirdly, passive phase of disinterest in everything possible – so much so that it’s all a blur now – and that defined Rushdie for me as a writer who I admired but would never have me hooked. I take full responsibility for this. Shortly after failing with ‘Ground Beneath Her Feet’, I attempted to labour through ‘An Equal Music’. I managed to get through most of it. But I will not attribute that to anything except it being a shorter book. Even so, I abandoned the book at the time just a few pages short of its end. These are my favourite men. Even if I could not spend too much time with them then. It gets even better (or worse).
I met Vikram Seth at a book launch years later and of course, as all polite writers would do at a book signing event, he wanted to know my name. When I told him, he generously commented that he was sure he would not meet another pretty face with the very same name. He then dipped the tip of his finger in the glass of champagne placed beside him and brushed the page of ‘Two Lives’ lovingly before autographing it with a flourish of his beautiful ink pen. I came away feeling guilty that I wasn’t excited by ‘An Equal Music’. I was so guilty that for years I kept ‘Two Lives’ at my bedside. I still haven’t read it. But I have on many occasions touched it and caressed it. And when his gentle voice still rings in my head, “What a lovely name you have!” I always feel bad.
If I were to have coffee with Rushdie and Seth, and they had the heart to listen, I would tell my story. How at the time I eagerly bought ‘The Ground Beneath Her Feet’ and ‘An Equal Music’, I had just given up playing music myself. Even if I was largely self-taught, for a few years I was disciplined about practising on my guitar every day. So, as I continued to get better at the guitar, I wrote songs. Usually they landed up in the bin after about ten days. But I always played my guitar. On good days and bad days. I always wrote songs, on good days and bad days. Never mind what I subjected those sheets of paper to after being proud of them for a while. I always wrote poetry. But sometime after I stopped playing the guitar, I tore up a whole folder of poems (handwritten ones) and told myself to just focus on my career. A ruthless pragmatism took over for a variety of reasons and I never looked back until a few years ago.
Now all I can imagine is writing and listening to music and telling Seth and Rushdie one day that my lack of zeal with their novels was really just a testament of my personal struggle with hard reality. And most likely, a passionate writer’s giving up of an equal love – music.
Today, it makes me wonder if my running away from music stripped me of the desire to write for a while. Imagine this. Because what happens when we lose a soulmate? Do we not also lose desire? Do we not also walk through the wilderness for a while, unsure of ourselves and wondering if we are even all that good at what we claim to love? The tendency to introspect too much, the inclination to be overly self-critical, the fight to stay sane and engage in a little healthy madness, the predisposition to waves of some depression and some giant bubbles of happiness (too much of this would mean you’re manic depressive and require treatment, of course – but some very sane artists engage in this without ever being in danger of being abnormal), the longing to be normal but also perfect at our craft – you will only find writers and other artists trying to straddle two frames of mind at one time. Because writers are human enough to feel despondent and yet there is a spirit inside them that is always looking for an opportunity to rise, speak and be heard. The loss of desire, the lonely walks through dry periods where inspiration seems a far-fetched concept, the giving up of activities we love are all the stages of life that prepare artists for their best times. As a young writer full of dreams, walking away from music stripped me of joy – the only essential foundation for good writing. Because writing can always be honed if there is talent. But streams of inspiration run dry on joyless soil. I find it hard to imagine that talent without joy makes an unforgettable impact.
Opening up to music again, even if I only listen and may never play again, made a difference to my writing. But the dry years weren’t wasted. If I took anything from ‘An Equal Music’ in my joyless time, it was this – Seth was incredibly authentic in the way he explored the nuances and technicalities of European classical music. Although I read the book without pleasure, I learned the power of being true, authentic and passionate enough to know enough. You see, even if I had never learned the violin myself, I was blown away by the power and vastness of the knowledge Seth displayed of a single instrument. And while working with all that detail, he never compromised on the story – the love affair between professional violinist, Michael and Julia, a pianist who is slowly turning deaf. I did not speak to Seth long enough at the launch of ‘Two Lives’ to ask him if he actually played the violin. I read ‘An Equal Music’ without elation, skimming over the terminologies, but I could swear I heard violins play. I still hear them sometimes when my brain isn’t whirring. Those days I can write and feel good about writing.
The greatest part of a writer’s life is the number of things that become an inspiration to him, the number of opportunities he gets to learn and feel something new. In my personal experience, music and literature are like twins warring for attention in an artist’s mind. Music as a medium is so powerful that it can influence a few lines that turn into a piece of poetry, and as we have seen in the case of some accomplished writers, translate into entire novels. And any kind of music can do this. Dig deeper into any art form, even one that we may not practice ourselves as writers, and we can be sure we’re on our way to telling beautiful stories and stories from the heart.
I like rock and roll. I adore the sounds of a violin. Do you think I could now attempt to read both ‘Ground Beneath Her Feet’ and ‘An Equal Music’ and feel differently about them? I’m hesitant – purely because I don’t want to feel guilty all over again; I can’t disappoint the man who loved my name. I can’t do injustice to the other, who even if we’ve never met, stands as one of the most solid literary forces in our time. Do you think there is a perfect time for some novels? Perhaps, my perfect time with both novels is just around the corner? Because these twins that battle within me seem to think so.
Jessu John is a branding & communications professional from Bangalore, India and has a postgraduate degree in Journalism from the UK. Currently a digital marketing consultant with an advertising firm, she also writes for mainstream Indian daily ‘The Hindu’. Her column in The Hindu Business Line kicks off soon. She enjoys long distance running and is a lover of most activities suited to the introvert. If you like the sound of it all, you may follow her on Facebook and on Twitter.
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