Tahmima Anam's blog
Tahmima Anam, Best First Book, Europe and South
for A Golden Age
Tahmima Anam was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh, and raised in Paris, New York City, and Bangkok. She comes from a family of writers: her grandfather was a famous political satirist, and her father is the editor of Bangladesh's largest-circulating English daily newspaper.
Tahmima has a PhD in Social Anthropology from Harvard University, and an MA in Creative Writing from Royal Holloway College, where she studied with Poet Laureate Andrew Motion.
In 2001, she received a fellowship to conduct research on the Bangladesh War of Independence and began writing A Golden Age. She traveled throughout Bangladesh, interviewing ex-freedom fighters, military officers, students, and survivors of the 1971 war. The novel is a fictionalized account of these war stories, combined with her own family history. In 2005, she received a grant from the Arts Council to complete the novel.
Tahmima's writing has been published in Granta magazine, The Guardian, and The New York Times. She is a currently a contributing editor at The New Statesman.
http://www.tahmima.com
- London, UK, 10 May 2008
Dear visitors, readers, and friends,
Welcome to my blog. Over the next ten days, I’ll be writing about my adventures as I travel to South Africa with the other regional winners of the
Commonwealth Writers' Prize. We’ll be starting our journey in Johannesburg, then going on to Cape Town, and finally to the Franschoek literary festival, where the overall winners will be announced. I’ve never been to South Africa, and am looking forward to this trip with great anticipation.
Now all I have to do is make it through the twelve-hour plane ride...
- Johannesburg- 13 May
- Franschhoek Literary Festival, 16 May
After taking a hair-raising car ride to Milan airport, a three-hour flight to Heathrow, a layover at the new Terminal 5--where I happily slurped noodles at Wagamama—and a twelve-hour journey to Johannesburg, I was just happy to arrive in one piece. It took an afternoon under the duvet before I was ready to face our first event—a group reading at Xarra bookshop. After having just met the other authors, it was really interesting to hear everyone read.
Something happens to people when they get behind the microphone. Sade Adeniran kicked things off by reading a very bold passage from her book, about a worm sticking out of a girl’s behind, grabbing everyone’s attention from the very start. Karen King-Aribisala, was rather quiet and soft-spoken during our afternoon briefing meeting, but once she got up on that stage, she was fierce, full of pathos and drama. Lawrence Hill gave a wonderful reading of the opening pages of his novel, The Book of Negroes—it was actually more like a monologue, as Larry seemed to have memorized most of it. The audience were all mesmerized.
Afterwards we all went to a restaurant/speakeasy kind of place called “Roka Lounge” where some of the authors engaged us in a debate about African literature. Again, Karen stole the show with a poem she belted into the microphone. We ate heartily, and though I didn’t have the gumption to guzzle any of the South African wine on offer, I’m told it was excellent.
I have been remiss about blogging, but it’s only because we’ve been so busy with all our wonderful activities that I haven’t really had a chance to reflect on them. By far the best thing about this trip has been getting to know some of the other writers. Writers don’t really get a chance to meet one another very often - we hide out in our caves and lead lives of relative isolation. So these writerly friendships are precious to me. On Wednesday we flew into Cape Town, and everyone was mesmerised by the beauty of the city. Sea on one side, mountains charging up towards the sky on the other. The University of Cape Town is perched just at the ridge of the mountains, and the view from the steps leading up to the campus is absolutely spectacular. I imagine a lot of good ideas are born on those steps.
Unfortunately our session at the University of CapeTown felt like a bit of a let-down after the raucous reception we’d received from the students of Westerford High School, who cheered and clapped and belly-laughed through our readings. Of course adults are always more restrained, and it was slightly awkward having us take part in a workshop without really knowing any of the students. In fact, having been in a creative writing workshop myself, I felt rather bad for intruding on them, as they must have developed a sense of trust with one another. Nonetheless, it was really great to see the University campus and get a sense of student life in Cape Town.
