Hello Readers!

Recently our ASTU class spent time interacting and engaging with the UBC archives. The archives are a place where UBC collects historical original documents that have been sent in by donors and authors.The trip was structured for us to view and interact with the obtained material regarding Joy Kogawa’s novels: Obasan and Naomi’s Road (we recently read Obasan in class). Unsurprisingly, the trip unearthed a few realizations about the whole literary process. For starters, simply being in the room with the original information laid out in front us was incredibly humbling. Being able to visualize the amount of effort and work that goes into a novel was astonishing. Amongst the items for viewing was positive and negative feedback, rejection letters, correspondence, rough drafts, and much more. Throughout this experience three things distinctly stood out, the extensive process behind a book, the character of Kogawa, and her grasp on her novel.

Reading the rejection letters instilled me with an increased sense of respect towards Kogawa. Oftentimes you hear about the resilience required for authors to follow through with a novel, but actually seeing what the rejection looks like puts a whole new face to the topic. To put so many long hours into a piece of work only to have an editor condemn it by saying, “we see problems with the marketing of this story” (from: Janet Turnbull, Rejection Letters, Box 70 File 1). Something so simple yet so deflating for Kogawa to be reading. This impressed me, Kogawa must have read numerous rejection letters and just took them in her stride and moved on. The archives present a unique opportunity, to be able to visually see and touch these materials makes everything more realistic and humanizes the author. It makes authors seem less like machines producing well crafted sentences, and more like people writing and labouring over a story. The passion becomes more evident when you can see the process in such an interactive way.

Certain sections of the archives showed different things, one area showed us the negative and positive feedback for the novel. In these areas we were presented with a new perspective to the book. Being able to see all the different views and interpretations on the novel made me re-evaluate how I looked at it. It showed a level of expertise both on the critics end, by dissecting the book so diligently, and Kogawa’s side, by being resolute in her vision of the novel.

In addition to Kogawa’s resilience, the archives gave me a look into her story writing abilities. Before the archives I wasn’t aware that she had adapted Obasan into the children’s book Naomi’s Road. I found out about this adaptation through the readers correspondence. Reading them instilled me with an additionally increased amount of respect for Kogawa. The kids who read Naomi’s Road were all big fans and had some adorable things to say to Kogawa. What impressed me about this was that Kogawa was able to recreate such an advanced and emotionally intense story for such a young audience, whilst still receive such a positive response. The responses did leave me with a couple of questions though for Kogawa: in the recreation of the novel what parts did you leave out specifically? In one of the responses I learned that the main characters mother was never revealed to have been bombed, how did Kogawa deal with this in a children’s book? Mark Nonkes was clearly curious too, he asked, “I wonder about did Naomi’s mom ever come back?” (from: Mark Nonkes letter to Kogawa, Box 28 File 3)

In the age where everything is accessible by media we often forget the beauty and complexities behind a piece of writing. Above all else, this is what resonated with me the most. It’s easy to look past how much work and time goes into a piece of writing when the only interaction you have with it writing is reading it. Being in the archives gave us an opportunity to dissect and experience the text to a much deeper level.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Sources:

Nonkes, Mark. Letter from Mark Nonkes to Joy Kogawa. 18 April 1990. Box 28 File 3. Joy Kogawa Fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada

Turnbull, Janet. Rejection Letter from Janet Turnbull. 22 May 1980. Box 70 File 1. Joy Kogawa Fonds. University of British Columbia Library Rare Books and Special Collections, Vancouver, Canada

The past week or so we have been reading the graphic narrative: Safe Area Gorazde. Reading graphic narratives like this always have a way of making me take perspective and evaluate the countless privileges that have been a part of my life. The novel takes place in the UN declared “safe area” Gorazde and is told from the perspective of the author, Joe Sacco, and the people that he interviews. He goes from person to person asking them to recollect their experiences of the war and the ethnic cleansing that happened by the Serbians towards the non-Serbian/”disloyal” Serbian population of Bosnia. The author Joe Sacco challenges and addresses many concepts and issues amongst the remaining population.

One of the more prevalent and humbling issues covered is that of the choice, or lack thereof, for the population of Gorazde. Throughout the novel Sacco represents different things to the citizens, he represents America, the english language, journalism, and most of all, he represents the idea of escape. The idea of a better life out there that is modern and filled with wonderful material items like Levi jeans, pretty girls and handsome men. This idea of escape revolves around elements of choice, for the Gorazdans all of their choices are limited. The act of leaving is not within their reach, Sacco represents choice as much as he represents escape. Choice and escape are entangled, they coincide and align with each other. 

Within the society that the Gorazdans have been left with, choices are despairingly limited. They can’t leave Gorazde because they are still surrounded by hostile Serbian forces. Within Gorazde their choices are limited, what with a crippled economy and practically already knowing everyone within the city.

There are elements in the book that illustrate examples of when a choice, that may seem so unimportant and irrelevant to us westerners, is everything they have. In the section “Total War” there is a panel where you see a child unwrapping a candy in his hands with a look of bliss on his face (132). Sacco sets up the scene and describes how, when it comes to candy, he gives the children the choice of what they will do with it. Instead of giving the candy to their parents, or having the children work for the candy, he just lets them have it. He lets the children have this tiny element of sanity and hope be entirely theirs, giving them complete control. This may seem like an irrelevant and minimal choice to us, but it means something to the children.

The element of choice in this panel illustrates the spectrum of control present for the citizens. For them being able to choose what they do with their candies is a relatively large task. Whereas for us in the western world a big choice is considered what kind of car we’ll buy, or what university we’re going to attend. Our surroundings and upbringings have gifted us with more than we even realize. For us the element of choice is inherent, we expect and demand numerous choices. When you go out for a nice meal you expect options, you expect to choose what you please and desire. If you don’t like anything on the menu you go to a different restaurant. Choice is everywhere, choice is freedom and individuality, it creates and sculpt our identity. What we choose to do with our life determines who we are as people. We take for granted the limitlessness of our lives compared to other ones. What would your life look like if choice was taken from you? Look at yourself and think about what choice means and looks like in your everyday life? Acknowledge the privilege that so many of us have been lucky enough to possess.

Thanks for reading,

Isaiah

Sources:

Sacco, Joe. “Total War.” Safe Area Goražde. Seattle, WA: Fantagraphics, 2000. 132. Print.