At the heart of his award-winning novel, “The Bamboo Stalk”, is the identity crisis of migrant workers in the Gulf
From a food-company employee to an aspiring banker to author, the young Saud Al Sanussi already has had varied experiences. This year, the 32-year-old Kuwaiti scaled new heights when he won the International Prize for Arabic Fiction (also known as the Arabic Booker) in Abu Dhabi. The prize is regarded as the ultimate recognition in Arabic literature.
Al Sanussi won it for his novel “The Bamboo Stalk”, one of six shortlisted for the fiercely contested prize. This year 133 works of fiction were nominated, with 16 making it to the longlist announced in December before the finalists were revealed a month later.
The prize is supported by the Booker Prize Foundation in London and sponsored by TCA Abu Dhabi. Each of the five other shortlisted finalists received $10,000 (Dh36,700).
“The Bamboo Stalk” touches the hot issue of foreign workers in the Arab Gulf and life at the cutting edge between the two cultures. Al Sanussi, the youngest winner of the prize and the first Kuwaiti to get it, was cited for the superior quality of his work and the heart-wrenching humanitarian issues that it captures beautifully.
In a candid interview with Weekend Review in Abu Dhabi, Al Sanussi spoke about his life, career and ambitions, and crucially, about the origins of his controversial yet creative work.
How did you react to news of your nomination for the prize?
This nomination meant a lot to me as I’m still a young novelist beginning my career, with only two novels to my name. To be nominated for such a prize is a big thing for me and makes me happy. I considered myself a winner when I was included on the longlist, and when I made the shortlist of nominees, it was as if I had won twice. My biggest triumph, however, is that I was nominated on behalf of Kuwait. The headlines filled me with pride because I was able to achieve something in the name of Kuwait.
When you wrote the novel, were you thinking of winning this award?
To the contrary, when I set out to write a novel, I write first and foremost for myself, about a concern that I have. This is primarily what I care about and was the case with my past two works. I would not be true to myself if I think of winning an award.
As a young writer, you must be reading a lot. Are you inspired or influenced by any Arab authors?
I have been inspired by Esmail Fahad Esmail at the humanitarian and literary levels. But I am not influenced by any particular writer.
At what age did you start writing?
This is difficult to remember, but I took up the pen very early and have been trying to express myself through writing ever since, especially following the 1990 Iraqi occupation of Kuwait. I wrote a patriotic poem. It was quite elementary, but deeply honest in a sense. I was 9 years old at the time and was watching the anxiety of my family. Then came adolescence, when I began writing diaries, and then personal thoughts and ideas on the internet. I wrote what could be called articles online and in youth magazines. And then came my first novel, the “Prisoner of Mirrors”. But I wasn’t sure if it was fiction at all. So I showed it to others and sought their views. I committed many mistakes in my first novel and had lessons to learn. That made me move up the ladder. Without the “Prisoner of Mirrors”, I would not have been able to write my second, “The Bamboo Stalk”.
Do you consider your novel reality-based or a fantasy? What motivated you?
It is neither because if I told you it is based on real life then that would annul my creative efforts. And if I said it is fictional, the reader would not believe me and would think I created paper figures without any soul.
I do not believe there can be a single motivating factor for a novelist. Every story comes with many and varied forms of the main characters and the events. But then fiction is all about the experiences of individuals and often such stories bear relevance to real life. “The Bamboo Stalk” is about the crisis of identity and soul-searching by an individual and the community as a whole. I have tried to put my work in the human context.
How did you come to write this novel?
The inspiration for the story was from real life, going back to my school days, when I had a classmate who had a Kuwaiti father and a Filipina mother. I could see he suffered from isolation and an identity crisis even though he was a Kuwaiti like the rest of us for all practical purposes, except for his Filipino facial features. The rest of the class did not seek to identify with him or make him part of their circles, although I thought I ought to get to know him more than my other friends. While developing the story idea, I did not ask myself if I was qualified to write about identity. So I slowly began placing myself in his situation as I searched for ways to recreate the personality of a half-Kuwaiti, half-Filipino man. A trip to the Philippines helped greatly in understanding human behaviour, which is essential for any writing of this kind.
I imagined the character in all its dimensions — José, Josh, Eisa — and started to work on the other details such as the house he lives in, the locality, and the religious institute or madrasa that is less than 100 metres away, and so on. My room became José’s room and my grandmother became his grandmother. I accumulated these details before I began writing. And once started, I never stopped until I finished the novel. I imagine that living these details day in and day out pushed me to write this story as if I were writing about my own life. The story of José Mendoza occupied my mind until it almost became a living reality — in flesh and blood.
Did this bring about any personal changes in you?
I’ve tried to shape the hero in all his dimensions — human dimensions, cultural curiosities, passions, likes and dislikes and so on. I sat down with some Filipino friends to watch their films and listened to their music, read newspapers and sat through television shows, making them translate it into English or Arabic. I looked at myself, an Arab, through the eyes of my hero to understand their anguish, find empathy and understanding. But I did not find a solution for this anguish or suffering. I did not find an answer to the questions: “Who am I? Who is the other?” I lived this life for several years,
I tried to focus on the idea of personal conflict within its environment. José remains a hero throughout the book, looking for his lost identity because he belongs to two different cultures. He is a product of both. And identity questions exist in the two cultures. The struggle is one of meditation. I found a hero who is half Filipino and half Kuwaiti, an idea rejected by Kuwaiti society. We look at others either as inferior or superior. This negativity in our society always preoccupied me, whether we like it or not. I rejected this thinking since I was conscious of myself. I had the opportunity to work with Arabs and non-Arabs. I tried to discover things myself during my travels. The presence of the other is necessary for us to discover ourselves. On a personal level, I have been changed and have tried to set right this negative image of the “other”, because I felt the pain and guilt that traumatises such people. I am not a community; I’m just an individual. I did not look for the solution. If I had the answers, I would express them through my writings.
Do you think that your hero found the answers himself?
The novel lives in two different geographical locations, Kuwait and the Philippines. The hero returns to his country, as his mother had portrayed his father’s place as a paradise on Earth, and he is like a bamboo stalk, which even when cut and planted on the other side of the Earth would grow its roots again. This is what José wants to do but fails.
You only developed the character of the protagonist and neglected the others.
I would have liked to further develop the characters associated with the hero — not just his family, but even those in the Philippines who figure in the book. But I did want to judge my characters and portray them as good and evil, black and white. José, the hero is the victim, and the others as well. He discovers frailty of the community and its falsehoods, and wonders why there were no ideas such as “there is no difference between an Arab and a foreigner except in faith”. He lives at the bottom of the society with the maids. The grandma imagines her son when she hears José. But she does not see him in José. The entire family is a victim in that sense.
Other than travelling, did you read a lot while writing this novel?
I’m not the type who reads to write a novel. Preparing for the book required me to travel to the Philippines, where my hero lives, to get acquainted with the people, the environment and the climate. I had to live in places far removed from our culture so I could later depict them intimately in the novel. So I followed in the tracks of the hero in the Philippines. I did not live in hotels but in a small house made of bamboo, and began watching the life of the hero and taking notes. When I returned to Kuwait, these notes began to appear from my subconscious as I was writing. You really cannot take down notes for the smell of food or the behaviour of characters!
My vision was to travel [there] to see the reality first-hand and to get a genuine sense of what the novel’s protagonist feels when he speaks about his country. Books and references, no matter how close to reality, would not have connected me to the genuine feelings I conveyed in the novel.
Do you think that the novel is a critique of the class-based society in Kuwait?
Yes, I criticise the existing imbalance we have as individuals and as groups, as we do not get to know the “other”. This comes from our heritage, which is very complicated. I do not feel any remorse about this novel. Lastly, I do not believe that a writer or novelist has a duty to play the role of social reformer.
Do you think this problem of foreign labour and the image of the other is unique to Kuwaiti society?
Our problems in the Gulf are similar yet varied in one way or another.
Your novel has a classic narrative, but you give the impression that it is a translated novel?
I used this technique of translation to give the sense of an autobiography by a Filipino.
How long did it take to write the novel?
One year, which is a short period for such novels, especially since I work besides writing. I prefer to stay at home after work, with some food!
Do you think “The Bamboo Stalk” will be read in Kuwait?
I am optimistic to some extent. In recent years, there has been an increase in the number of readers in Kuwait but still, in our society, we do not have a reading culture.
Have you encountered problems publishing your novel? Why did you choose Arab Scientific Publishers?
Certainly, as a young writer, I have faced a lot of difficulties. Some publishing houses have unfair conditions. It is a kind of exploitation. But I have had the pleasure of finding a courageous publisher who finally took a risk on my novel and also submitted it for consideration for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction.
What’s your ongoing project and how would you write after winning this award?
There are a few ideas in my mind, some developed. Even as I wrote “The Bamboo Stalk” I had a few. I write when I feel the pain and I suffer from the issue. I have no thoughts on a new novel now because I need to be isolated again. In general, I need to be cautious about what I write. But, as I said earlier, I write more for myself than for my readers, and I count myself among these readers.
Shakir Noori is a Iraqi journalist, novelist and writer based in Dubai.
Box:
Biography
Born in 1981, Saud Al Sanussi is a Kuwaiti novelist and journalist. His work has appeared in a number of Kuwaiti publications, including Al Watan newspaper and Al Arabi, Al Kuwait and Al Abwab magazines. He now writes for Al Qabas newspaper. His first novel, “The Prisoner of Mirrors”, was published in 2010 and in the same year won the fourth Leila Othman prize, awarded for novels and short stories by a young writer. In the “Stories on Air” competition, organised in July 2011 by Al Arabi magazine in coordination with BBC Arabic, he won first place for his story “The Bonzai and the Old Man”.
Sign up for the Daily Briefing
Get the latest news and updates straight to your inbox