Imagining Turkish poet Ilyas Tunças the eye in the societal storm is irresistible. Tunç, who will take part in the Poetry Africa International Festival in Durban next week, writes poetry that delves into a range of themes — from memories of childhood to an individual sense of desolation — with brevity, insightfulness and grace.
His words appear to cast perspectives on life’s maelstrom from a point of thoughtful calm.
Tunç, a retired primary school English teacher who lives in the Turkish Black Sea coastal town of Sinop, published his first anthology, Kis Bin Alkis Miydi (The Last Applause in Winter, Biçem Press), in 1992. He has since published five more collections, including Kül ve Kopus (Ash and Ending, Damar Press, 1994), which won the 1995 Poetry Prize of Damar Literary Magazine and the Orhan Murat Ariburnu Poetry Award (Special Jury Award).
His 2008 Ceyhun Atuf Kansu Poetry Prize-winning collection, Sesler Incelikler (We Spoke of Sand, Artshop Press, 2008), was translated into English in collaboration with South African poet Robert Berold. Tunç, who recently completed the translation of a hefty anthology of contemporary South African poetry into Turkish, has also had some poetry translated into isiZulu by Angifi Dladla and into Afrikaans by Charl-Pierre Naude.
Karnaval is his most recent collection of poems. (Artshop Press, 2009).
Nren Tolsi: You are from Sinop, birthplace of the Cynic philosopher Sinopian Diogenes. One of the more famous anecdotes about Diogenes finds him asking Alexander the Great to “get out of his sunlight”, when the king asked the philosopher what favour he could bestow upon him. In another interview you talk of how “power hides reality, but poets bring it to light”. Can you extrapolate on the relationship between the poet and power, and also the poet’s role in the relationship between ordinary citizens and power?
Ilyas Tunç: As a relative concept, goodness is based on the power. The power also means wealth and richness. If you’re poor, you have nothing to grant. Alexander the Great represents the power, which stands between the sun and Sinopean Diogenes. Really, what the power grants you has been already seized by force from others. And it gets back what it gives you because it never wants to share inherently. Sharing in equality is a more human approach to the problems.
The power sometimes does the weak a favour to cover its cruelty. It means that tyrants can turn into angels of goodness. The reality is hidden at this very moment when tyrants turn into angels. However, the poet is like a child who cries out, “The king is naked”, as in the story.
Telling the truth requires courage. Indeed, there is no difference between these two statements — “The king is naked” and “Get out of my sunlight”.
As regards the poet’s role in the relationship between ordinary citizens and power, naturally he or she is on the side of ordinary citizens. And he or she must tell them that tyrants aren’t angels of goodness.
NT: You talk of having met poetry as a young man (when one felt more intensely and deeply). When and how did this happen? Can you describe your relationship over the years? How has age affected your relationship with poetry and your relationship with writing poetry?
IT: I began to write poems in my adolescence. My early poems, which expressed a fragile love, were far from carrying literary value. My first poems that have, I believe, a literary value were published in the first issue of the literary magazine named Yeni Defne, in 1977. For a long time, until the early 1990s, I hadn’t published my poems.
It is because those poems didn’t reflect a genuine poetic style. As a matter of fact, the poems that took place in my first collection were the ones written as of the 1990s.
Today, I believe that a collection of poems must have an internal coherence in terms of both formal pattern and theme. I can also say that the common themes in my poetic journey evolved in time from love to philosophy and mythology. Writing poems had been an irresistible passion for me until I discovered translation as an alternative literary activity. Translating poems is a creative and enjoyable way of involving [oneself] in poetry.
NT: Do you have a routine when writing poetry? Can you chart the course of your poems from inspiration through conceptualisation to articulation?
IT: Actually, I do not have a routine regarding poetry. But for the most part, I prefer to write poems at night. I don’t smoke or use alcohol, but I consume a considerable amount of coffee. I concentrate on … deep research before writing it. I get knowledge about the theme from different sources, such as books, people, movies, encyclopedias … I benefit from almost everything in life: objects, photographs, local songs and stories, nature and myths. In fact, I’m not a poet who believes in inspiration. I can’t wait for some words from somewhere or someone. I try to create my own inspiration by myself … Generally, I start with the key word or line, which gets me to write the other lines. In the process of writing, I choose the most necessary words. I omit the unnecessary ones.
Using the words economically is important for me. Rhythm and musicality are the necessary elements of a poem; so are images. In my opinion, a good poem must draw a picture in the reader’s mind and take him out of the daily reality.
After I finish the draft of a poem, I forget it for some time to correct my mistakes later. This gap of time provides me with an opportunity to think over it more carefully. I’m a lucky poet because my family members are my first volunteer critics — my wife and two daughters.
NT: In another interview you said: “What drove me to translate South African poetry was my eagerness to see how the culture, traditions, beliefs, social life and religions of the people from different races reflect on the poetry.” What are your observations both of South African poetry as the reflector and of South African society as reflected through the poems you have encountered?
IT: It can be said that Afrikaans poets pass over the social themes and their poems are predominantly pastoral. So, we can see the magnificent landscapes of South Africa in their poems. Some European-rooted poets have been influenced by Ted Huges, DH Lawrence, William Shakespeare, William Butler Yeats, William Wordsworth, Thomas Stearns Eliot, John Milton. Mostly, the black poets touch on the social problems, such as poverty, freedom, HIV/Aids, rape, nepotism, exile and so on … They also take Zulu and other native cultures in hand.
For example, the reader can see the household goods in a Zulu hut through Mbuyiseni Mtshali’s poem, Inside my Zulu Hut, and how Shaka was born from fireflames in another of his poems, The Birth of Shaka from the Fireflames. And I learned that the crime rate of raping women is rather high from Angifi Dladla’s Seven Soldiers Laughed on Christmas Day, Makhosazana Xaba’s The Silence of a Lifetime and Vonani Bila’s Beautiful Daughter.
Before I came to Durban, I experienced life in Grey Street through Mafika Gwala’s poem. Dennis Brutus’s poem, Remembering June 16, demonstrated how terrible the student uprising in Soweto was. Kobus Moolman’s poem, Three Views of a Karoo Veld, and Kelwyn Sole’s Karoo showed me the wonderful landscapes of the Karoo.
NT: What is the secret to a good translation?
IT:It is very difficult work to translate a poem. Poetry is written through native language and carries its semantical features. But translation reproduces poetry that was a local art in another language. Through translation, people know each others’ cultures, traditions and lifestyles.
We can invent the culture of a country through its poetry. Knowing different cultures all over the world gives us a joy of living together in peace and creates a tolerant atmosphere between people. So, I believe translation [of] literature is a contribution to world peace.
The translator’s patience is the most essential thing for this knotted work. If you want to translate a poem, you have to learn the poet’s life, poetic views and inner world.
A good translator must also be a good searcher.
After working on drafting it a few times, I put it somewhere for some time. This enables me to see it more objectively when I return to it again.
Details
The 13th Poetry Africa International Festival takes place from October 5 to 10 at various Durban venues, including the Elizabeth Sneddon Theatre at the University of KwaZulu-Natal and the BAT Centre. Poets taking part in a series of performances, discussions, workshops and book launches include South African enfant terrible Lesego Rampolokeng, comedian-slammer Nina Kibuanda (Democratic Republic of the Congo), theatrical and provocative Tania Tomé(Mozambique), positive “ethno-urban-hiphop-soul-poetess” the Malawian singer and poet Chigo Gondwe, South Africa’s Jennifer Ferguson and true great Mogane Wally Serote, winner of various awards, including the Ingrid Jonker Poetry Prize, the Noma Award for Publishing in Africa and the Pablo Neruda Award from the Chilean government.
Visit: www.cca.ukzn.ac.za for a full programme. Inquiries: 031 260 2506 or 031 260 1704. Tickets: Computicket 011 340 8000 or 083 915.