Why Eka Kurniawan’s translated short stories in Filipino are essential reading | Metaglossia: The Translation World | Scoop.it

Written by Don Jaucian

Updated Jun 6, 2023, 6:29:39 PM

The Booker-nominated author from Indonesia talks about the Filipino translations of his short stories, “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran,” which was translated by Amado Anthony G. Mendoza III and recently won the Best Translated Book at the 40th National Book Awards. Photo by JL JAVIER

In Kate Briggs’ wonderful book on translation “This Little Art,” she makes a case for the importance of translating books, or even translating in general: “We need translations, urgently: it is through translation that we are able to reach the literatures written in the languages we don’t or can’t read, from the places where we don’t or can’t live, offering us the chance of understanding as well as the necessary and instructive experience of failing to understand them, of being confused and challenged by them.” It is through translation that we are able to read works of writers such as those of Indonesian writer Eka Kurniawan, whose short stories we can also now enjoy in a Filipino translation as “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran at iba pang Kuwento” by Amado Anthony G. Mendoza.

The short stories, culled from Kurniawan’s three collections (technically four, but the fourth one collects stories from the previous three), are translated directly from the original Bahasa. This is the second translation of Kurniawan’s short stories, the first being “Kitchen Curse” published by Verso Books in 2019 with various translators: Annie Tucker, Benedict Anderson, Tiffany Tsao, and Maggie Tiojakin. Filipino Kurniawan fans would have likely encountered his short stories first in the Verso Books edition but reading a new selection of his short stories in Filipino reveals a sharper and more playful side to Kurniawan’s writings. Plus, seven out of the 11 short stories here have never been translated to English, such as “Deposito” and “Ang Pambobola para kay Marieteje.”

 
 

To read Kurniawan’s work is always an enriching, wild ride. His first novel, “Cantik Itu Luka” (Sugat ng Kagandahan), published in 2002 was translated to English in 2015 as “Beauty is a Wound” by Annie Tucker and was nominated for the Man International Booker Prize, making Kurniawan the first Indonesian to be nominated. “Beauty is a Wound,” opens with the beautiful prostitute Dewi Ayu returning from the dead, in these unforgettable lines: “One afternoon on a weekend in March, Dewi Ayu rose from her grave after being dead for 21 years. … She had passed away at 52, rose again after being dead for 21 years, and from that point forward nobody knew exactly how to calculate her age.” What follows is a transformative look at was included in The New York Times’ 100 Notable Books of 2015.

His second novel, “Lelaki Harimau” (Lalakeng Halimaw) takes a more focused look in contrast to “Cantik Itu Luka,” centering on an Indonesian coastal town with an opening line as captivating as in his first novel. The book was published in 2004 and translated to English in 2015 as “Man Tiger” by Labodalih Sembiring. The novel reads as a mixture of fable, folklore, and a procedural centered on a small town teeming with horrific histories.

After “Lelaki Harimau,” Kurniawan has published several short story collections, essay collections as well as the novel “Seperti Dendam, Rindu Harus Dibayar Tuntas” (Tulad ng Paghihiganti, Buo Maningil ang Pangungulila) which has been translated to English in 2017 as “Vengeance is Mine, But All Other Pay Cash” by Annie Tucker. The brutal novel, which borrows from action films and other genre hijinks, begins with the story of a man who can’t get an erection. The book was adapted by Kurniawan himself into film directed by acclaimed Indonesian filmmaker Edwin in 2021. “Vengeance is Mine, All Others Pay Cash” premiered at the 74th Locarno Film Festival where it won the Golden Leopard, the festival’s top prize. The film is currently on Netflix as of this writing.

 
 

In our interview, Kurniawan said that his novel's openers — cinematic to some extent — are borne out of his love for the visual medium, where he sequences his opening “scene.”

“I write the novel with… not really a still image but more of... an act,” he says. “In ‘Beauty is a Wound,’ there is a dead woman who came back to life, you have this visual thing but if I wrote about this kind of… if there is a dead woman who came back to life, what’s next? What happened before that? When I wrote the novel, it’s a journey for me too.. I want to know what happened after she came back to life and what happened before she died.”

Kurniawan’s works are manifestations of his childhood experience of literature. Born in 1975, he grew up listening to stories, such as radio dramas or through an old lady telling stories to children in her veranda and watching films. “I went to [a] kind of folk theater and when I was maybe seven or eight my parents started to bring me to [watch] movies and so on. I think it’s my love for stories that started to make me want to tell my own stories but back then maybe I don’t know how to tell our stories… I just want to maybe someday write my own comic book or novel, or maybe become a filmmaker, as long as I can tell my own stories (Laughs).”

In “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran,” Mendoza places Kurniawan’s writing within the social and political context where much of his work is coming from. Kurniawan was born almost a decade after the second Indonesian president, the dictator Suharto’s Orde Baru (New Order) and just a few years after the mass killings that targeted the Partai Komunis Indonesia (Communist Party of Indonesia). As Mendoza notes, “Sa lahat ng halos na ito nakasumpong ng paliwanag hinggil sa napiling landas ni Eka sa panulat. Ang landas na tinutukoy dito, siyempre, ay ang landas na pagsalunga sa kumpas ng institusyonalisadong panitikan ng Indonesia.”

Mendoza also talks about the post-reformasi (the Indonesian reformation which began after Suharto’s resignation in 1998 and opened for a more democratic, social development) years become distinct in Kurniawan’s work, where the discussion of communism can be found in the hushed, graffiti on the wall (the title story “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran”) or more directly, in “Peter Man” where we are told that nothing has really changed after Suharto’s fall, a stance which makes Kurniawan different from his other contemporaries. Mendoza says, “Kaiba sa kaniyang kasabayan, hindi tinatakpan in Eka ang kaniyang ilong sa harap at kabila ng alingasaw ng nakaraang patuloy pa ring nagsusumuot sa mga lihim na ilog, palayan, eskinita, tahanan, gusali, at lungsod ng alaala at kasaysayan ng Indonesia.

To read Kurniawan’s work is always an enriching, wild ride. Photo by JL JAVIER

Prior to “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran,” Mendoza has already co-translated a volume of poems by the poet-activist Wiji Thukul, who has been missing since 1998. “Anyone who has had the chance of reading Thukul will notice in his verses shades of Ericson Acosta, Gelacio Guillermo, Pete Lacaba, and Alan Jazmines,” Mendoza told CNN Philippines in a separate interview.

As a scholar, Mendoza is interested in “the literary and political relations that Indonesia and Philippines share,” which brought him to Kurniawan.

He tells CNN PH Life, “As a translator, I guess you can say that my research interests influenced me to choose writers whose works feature histories, people, turns of phrase, idioms, and struggles that resemble, in the most uncanny and familiar ways, those of what we have here in the Philippines. Eka was one of those writers. Reading him was like reading a contemporary Filipino fictionist in a language that's a bit different from what one is used to. So in that sense, other than the language, reading and eventually translating his works interestingly made me gain as much insight about Indonesian history and politics as I did about the Philippines.”

Mendoza had a free hand in selecting the stories in “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran,” making it a distinct collection compared to “Kitchen Curse.” But Mendoza didn’t really initially plan it to be that way.

“It just so happened that the irreverent attitude and raw energy evident in Eka's earlier works, especially those collected in his maiden collection (‘Corat-Coret di Toilet’), really captured my interest,” he says. “The stories featured in ‘Kitchen Curse’ were mainly from Eka's latter short story collections (i.e., ‘Cinta Tak Ada Mati’ and ‘Perempuan Patah Hati yang Kembali Menemukan Cinta pada Mimpi’). In ‘Kitchen Curse’ and the [aforementioned] collections, readers are presented with an Eka Kurniawan who has already matured as a writer. In ‘Mga Himutok sa Palikuran’ (Corat-Coret di Toilet), however, save for three stories, everything, including the collection's title, came from Eka's maiden collection. And while all his succeeding collections are truly great reads, I believe that his first collection shows readers what he intended to be as a writer. And as a translator (and a writer myself), that is something that I can relate to.”

Kurniawan said that his short stories are more exercises and experiments to sketch a story, if it works or merits a longer exploration, which, in a way, makes his shorter works even more razor sharp and memorable, and to read them in Filipino unveils a deeper connection — to read a Southeast Asian work in another Southeast Asian language compared to a Western language. “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran” inaugurates Naga City-based publisher Savage Mind: Arts, Books, Cinema’s series of translations of classic and modern works from different literatures around the world.

We sat down with Kurniawan when he visited Manila in February to launch “Mga Himutok sa Palikuran” to talk about the Filipino translation of his short stories, which recently won Best Translated Book at the 40th National Book Awards, working with Edwin, and what he listens to when he’s on the treadmill.

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

I wanted to ask you about the “Vengeance is Mine, All Others Pay Cash” movie and your hand in co-writing it. Was it a different experience compared to writing your own novel?

Yeah it's a very different experience but at the same time, half of [it] is [a] different experience. The other half is the same experience because I had to return to the story. I already know the other half [of the journey but] because it’s a different medium and I have to discuss with the director [because he has his own vision [of the movie].

How is it sharing your vision of the novel to someone else and then writing the movie?

Edwin was very helpful because he believes in the novel. He [wanted] to deliver the same concept [as] the novel so it was easy for me. I talked about the novel [to him] and the first draft [of the screenplay], and it was only me who wrote [it]. So I just tried to maybe convert the novel into a script but after that I discussed with Edwin and he started to see the story from the point of view of a [motion] picture, something symbolic, so he tried to add to the movie [adaptation] because of course there is something that we cannot bring from the novel into the movie but at the same time we added something that didn’t appear in the novel.

Your novels open with a very specific image that describes something crucial to the plot. So I wanted to ask if you are influenced by visual culture when you write your openings.

What really happens [is] there is a kind of picture, a place, and what the character [is] doing. So for me it’s kind of like sequencing a movie. Even when I wrote the novel in the style of storytelling like the old woman who used to tell stories [on] the veranda, I still use the visual [style] to deliver stories maybe because I like movies and I love comic books. For me, it’s easier with a visual but of course when I wrote “Vengeance is Mine,” it’s influenced a lot by the movies, even the sequence, the idea comes from movies but when I tried to adapt the novel into a movie script, it’s very different. I stole something from a movie [for] the novel but when [I wrote the novel] back to a movie, it’s really something very different (Laughs).

For me, it’s easier with a visual but of course when I wrote “Vengeance is Mine,” it’s influenced a lot by the movies, even the sequence, the idea comes from movies but when I tried to adapt the novel into a movie script, it’s very different. I stole something from a movie [for] the novel but when [I wrote the novel] back to a movie, it’s really something very different

In an interview last year, you said the novel is a perfect form to describe the world. I was wondering what the short story is for you?

I use the short story like a laboratory. It’s a place for experimenting because the form is very short. You can do anything in a short piece and you can do it sometimes in two or three hours. If it’s longer than that maybe a week or two weeks. It’s worth it to try something but at the same time, [I'm] not wasting my time because I can see the results [right away]. I think it’s perfect for experimental things. When I feel that it works, if I’m satisfied with the results, I can use it even for a novel.

You said that Indonesian readers are more critical.

Yes, very critical but it’s more because I don’t know the traditions outside Indonesia so I cannot compare them. Maybe because of social media, people can comment [on anything]. In my early days as a writer, the internet [was] very young and there was no social media. The only people who read literary fiction are a small circle, everybody knows everybody. So sometimes we just tend to be very critical because we know everybody (Laughs). Of course it’s very critical, but sometimes it’s very biased because you don’t belong to our group. But nowadays, with social media, common readers, I think it’s more open, more fair, whatever they want to [say] about the work. There is a good response and of course many many bad [comments] about the work.

You’re also a publisher of translated work in Indonesia. As a writer whose work has been translated in several languages, how has that influenced the way you commission translations?

The idea [for the publishing press] came after I visited a lot of countries. My book’s published here and there but at the same time I don’t know about their literature except some; if their [work] is published in English. [Sometimes] it’s not available in [the] Indonesian market. It’s a good thing that we can read literature from other countries, [with easier access] if they’re translated directly from their own language. I have an experience to speak with literary agents, publishers, the experience has made it easier [for me] to contact someone who’s willing to [translate] or [if] there’s a book that we want to publish.

That brings us to your Philippine translation. How much did you have a hand in selecting the stories?

It was all Arlo because I published officially three short story collections in Indonesia, actually four but one of them is republished from other works but not all of the stories. Some of them not good enough, some of them not fit enough for foreign readers because for example there is a story there, the setting is in 19th century and I wrote it Indonesian style, which was used in 19th century. I think it’s useless to be translated because the language [won’t make sense]. There are many things.

Like I said short stories sometimes are experiments for me so it won’t work [to translate some of them]. It [was] up to Arlo because this is the second short story collection in a foreign language. The first one was “Kitchen Curse.” The first one was similar [which this in the sense that] was up to the translator which [story] will fit better for the readers.

Kurniawan said that his short stories are more exercises and experiments to sketch a story, if it works or merits a longer exploration, which, in a way, makes his shorter works even more razor sharp and memorable. Photo by JL JAVIER

The stories here are translated from Indonesian, which has some similar words with Filipino…

Yes, but to be honest I never read the translations but I know there are some words that are similar to Indonesian, like this morning we had breakfast and we had lumpia, which is the same word in Indonesia, mahal is expensive, but of course even if there are similar words, if the words are in a sentence I don’t understand them.

When you were talking about being subversive in including grotesque elements in “Beauty is a Wound,” that this is a strategy for culture to be and not owned by the elites… Do your other works contain this drive?

I used language like I use it in daily conversations. I don’t like very strict language, usually they use [this] in the previous generation since [it’s a more formal] literature and then there [are elements that] usually come from the popular novel. The [academics] never take a look at [them] as a serious novel but I use them as influences like martial arts novels, horror novels, romance novels. The structure, the language they use is easier to read. I think it’s easier for common readers to enjoy the novels.

So formalist literature in Indonesia has a specific kind of language?

Usually but not anymore. Maybe 20-30 years ago. Indonesian literature was born at the same time as the formality of the language. Indonesian language came from Malay, the root is similar with the language used by Malaysian. Actually, the Malay, during the time in colonial era is used by common people. There is a lot of language in Indonesia… we need some common language to speak to each other. They tried to formalize this language. It’s easily different with Malay, the original. I think it’s kind of tool to control for the Dutch colony, to try to control the people so they tried to formalize the language. And at the same time, Indonesian literature was born with the formalistic approach. It lasted until five decades. It’s a new language. People tend to standardize all our reading. But i think after maybe ‘80s-‘90s people became experienced more and the language needed to be more dynamic and that is an influence from other languages, I think nowadays people are more free. (Laughs).

There’s a lot of usage of animals in your works, they way that they exist along with people, and in the case of “Man Tiger,” inside of humans. Does this also somewhat speak of the history of Indonesia?

Maybe, but as I said I’m influenced more by fables. It’s like folklore, usually about animals and sometimes mixed with human life. One of the things I borrowed for my novel is a woman married to a dog. Sometimes you worship a kind of animal to become very rich or something like that. I think animals are reflections of human psychology but at the same time we see animals like the other creatures, something like a monster, something that we cannot control, like the tiger. It’s kind of a love-hate relationship between human and stranger creatures (Laughs).

I think animals are reflections of human psychology but at the same time we see animals like the other creatures, something like a monster, something that we cannot control.

What is a typical writing day for you?

I usually don’t write every day because if I have nothing to write, I don’t write at all. Usually I just read or watch a movie. But if I have a schedule to write something, I write every day, maybe four or five hours. I don’t usually use time to define how long I have to write but how many words I have to write today. Sometimes I just wake up in the morning [and the goal is] I need to write 500 words today. If I have enough energy to do that I definitely can write in the morning but in lazy days I just go about it at night before I sleep (Laughs).

Has the way you write changed since your first novel came out?

Yeah. I always change between the books because I criticize myself. I like to criticize myself to have a kind of reflection and more than that I don’t want that what I ever I write trap me in the same situation so maybe the way I wrote “Beauty is a Wound” is good for the novel but I don’t think it would be good for [my] other novels. I have to change (Laughs).

I read that you listen to Girls Generation and Taylor Swift. What are you listening to these days?

Nothing new, because after the end of lockdown in Indonesia, I bought a treadmill so I need to listen to music that [has] a kind of beat to accompany me to a run. I know nothing of new music right now so I just listen to old music so I just listen to Genesis. I know their songs when I was in junior high school because my uncle listened to them. [Similar] prog rock [bands as well] like Toto.

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Buy a copy of "Mga Himutok sa Palikuran" online here or at Save Mind: Arts, Books, Cinema located at 5 Peninsula St., Mayon Avenue, Tinaga, Naga City.