Finding Me in Other Writers

When I first read Metamorphosis and Jackals and Arabs, I wanted to hop around in delight. Coming across Kafka was confirmation that I'm not crazy (after all). It felt good to know that there are others with bizarre imaginations who appreciate dark humor like myself. During my childhood, I would imagine all sorts of obscure and ridiculous possibilities I like to refer to as 'what ifs.'  I’ve asked myself, if I could be a bird, would I like being a bird? Do dogs have easier lives than humans since all they seem to do is eat, walk, and sleep? If I were a dog, would I be a happy dog? Is it possible that some birds have a fear of heights? Metamorphosis handed me freedom in creativity.

Kafka gives me a lens to see that our world can be whatever we want it to be. Creativity has no boundaries. After reading Kafka, I wanted to pick up a pen and write extremely outlandish stories like the ones I grew up hearing about.

In Africa, where I was born, we were told stories, most of which seem strange to me now, but as a child, sounded plausible. West African folktales consist of talking tortoises, walking trees, and rivers that possess human qualities. In The Tortoise and the Calabash, a tortoise, humanized, is part of society and speaks verbally to human beings. Another story, The Old Wise Hen, tells of a hen with human attributes and higher intellect. As a child, I would listen to these stories in awe. Growing up, I became consumed by the throes of life and those childhood stories were locked up in a dungeon somewhere in my brain. The inner child in me that reacted with a sense of joy to Kafka’s stories had been suppressed. Kafka helped me to revive my inner child.

T.S. Elliot’s poems, surprisingly, have also had a strong impact on me. I had preconceived notions of Elliot’s works as tedious from reading just one of his poems - The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock, a few years ago. Reading Elliot’s poem, The Wasteland, which contains many references to other literary works, changed my mind. What I found in Kafka, my long lost self, I found in Elliot - my current self.

My current self, the intellectual part of me, when reading, has a habit of what I call a 'wandering mind'. When reading a story, whether short or long, a novel, or just a poem, if I come across a name, a location, or a character I have encountered in the past, my mind wanders off to things related to that topic. It was fascinating on my part to discover that Elliot actually made this phenomenon a form of literary style. Reading Elliot’s The Wasteland was like taking a long trip down memory lane.

My connection to T.S. Elliot was especially profound in areas of Wasteland like the first section. Coming across Elliot’s reference to Geoffrey Chaucer’s April from The Canterbury Tales made me reminisce about my life in England years ago. In England where I attended high school, I came across Chaucer’s works sometime in the fourth year. From this recollection, my mind wandered off even further, recollecting teachers, high school classmates, and various events I had forgotten for so many years. And from that, my mind went wandering off more to the moments I first encountered other literary works like Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, Honore de Balzac’s Pere Goriot, and Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. Elliot’s poetry is like a catalog of other works and this allowed me to pull out forgotten works of literature. By recollecting past literary works, I am now able to look at my own writings from a fresh perspective. Besides Elliot, another writer that I've studied, Langston Hughes, has also induced an intense reaction in me.

For me, reading Langston is like ingesting a high dose of adrenaline. Langston’s poems portray every imaginable cultural experience and social issue pertaining to African Americans. In Langston’s poetry, I discovered how I relate to society as a whole. Langston made me feel that I am not alone; I belong to a larger aggregate. Reading and learning more about African American struggles during Langston’s era gave me a “voice” that previously was not able to speak at a higher tone.

The Negro Speaks of Rivers is an affirmation of the beauty of my own race. This poem whispers to me that human is human regardless of race or origin. Originating from Africa and living in America for many years has sometimes left me feeling disconnected from my past. When I came across the sixth line of Negro Speaks of Rivers, I felt like I was actually visiting “my hut near the Congo”. “I looked upon the Nile” and saw that I am an important part of the cultural binding of African blacks and African Americans. Langston makes me feel that there should be no disparity between those two but rather, a unity.

Langston's poems bring out a celebratory mood in me. His jazz poems that focus greatly on rhythm make me want to dance. Jazzonia and Danse Africaine ignite firecrackers under my feet. After I read these poems, I wanted to take my shoes off and run around in the rain without restrictions. They re-connected to me to African rhythms and the cultural habit of using music to cope with personal issues and social barriers. To many Africans, music is the pill that cures a day of worrisome thoughts. Langston also made me want to compose music and musically inspired poetry. His poems prove to me that the line between writing poetry and music is indeed very frail.
Railroad Avenue and Lennox Avenue lend me the notion that the black community I grew up or live in (my 'hood') is a place to celebrate. The negative air surrounding African American neighborhoods is enormous. I can hear Langston saying it's ALRIGHT to live in Harlem; don't be afraid of going to the Bronx or sitting under a tree in Brooklyn, to watch our people go by. There's plenty of myself to be found anywhere I go and in everything I read.