Welcome to Merħbabik

Bajtar tax-Xewk Author: Dr Karmenu Mallia Publisher: Horizons Publication, 2016 Extent: 335pp

It is an undisputed fact that every writer, consciously or unconsciously, will invariably include in his work not only traits of his own personality, but will also draw freely from the attendant experiences of his personal life; because not only is life the greatest teacher, but also the greatest source of inspiration for the writer who would want to write a novel, a poem or an essay, helping him, regardless of his talent, to further improve his own particular style.

There is no question about Dr Karmenu Mallia’s literary talent: he is one of Malta’s most prolific writers, poets and essayists, at ease in French, Italian, English, Esperanto and, of course, Maltese. And lately he has been churning out some of his finest novels to date. The many varied and colourful experiences of a long life seem to be paying off very nicely and Maltese literature is getting richer thereby.

His latest work is the Maltese novel Bajtar u Xewk, another brilliant work in which he has once again broken new grounds both in style, presentation and the theme itself.

Blind Omar lives in Paris, but he was born on the tiny Mediterranean island of Merħbabik. Helpless and getting on in years, he gets his nephew Francis to read him the letters he had received years before from the island, and which he had never found time to read. Over to Prof. Ramon, who is elected leader of the Social Party in Merħbabik and eventually sets up a Home for the elderly. In spite of political differences Ramon and his wife Lola befriend Prof. Peppinu and his fiancée Nina, and all get together to give a helping hand at the Home.

The story begins in Paris and ends on the island of Merħbabik, at the Home for the elderly, around which the story gradually unfolds, with the characteristics of the island itself and the idiosyncrasies of its locals providing a dramatic backdrop for what the author seems very happy to set on stage with his very fertile imagination, his very own retouched experiences and his oft very witty sense of humour.

Going through the book, the reader will at once identify the island in question; will be at one with the references subtly hinted at, will be delighted with the superbly descriptive picture that Mallia paints of the island, amused at the way he goes about, sometimes sarcastically, in his reference to its locals, with their character, their customs and their good and bad traits.

Indeed, the author is at his best when he occasionally waxes philosophically between The Beginning and The End, the two points that hold the whole story in place. Personal experience also plays a huge part here. Mallia, now in his 80s, is here somehow penning a sort of an autobiography, indubitably covering his days in Paris and then what came after that. Sweet-sad nostalgia lurks all over the place, sometimes with a hint of sadness, at others highlighted by some witty remark or a pithy aside. But the most interesting and innovative factor in the story is the metaphor applied to the humble prickly-pears: the fresh ones on Omar’s plate in Paris and the marble ones sculpted on the wall of the House for the elderly, a metaphor which immediately brings to mind the stark reality and the contrast between life and death. Thus, this novel may be summed up as an essay on life in its totality; in two phases, in fact: A Beginning and An End, between which every life is punctuated, including all the factors that sum up humanity, the good and bad tastes and the final (bitter) realisation not only of the brevity of life itself but also of its futility, complemented by man’s relentless struggle to survive. Very neatly printed by Horizons, this thick novel can be enjoyed as a story for its own sake; but it can also offer a highly interesting philosophical study, as it mirrors stark reality in its best form.