Tête-à-tête with Chirere in the woods
Memory Chirere (MC) is one of the finest Zimbabwean writers who have mastered the short story in both English and Shona traditions. Here At The Bookstore’s pen Elliot Ziwira (EZ) chats with the renowned writer, poet and academic about his poetry, short st
EZ: (Memory) Chirere how could you write a useless book (“Bhuku Risina Basa”) and expect us to read it? MC: The story here is that for the first time I have realised that most books are titled in relation to content, but I decided that I had to write a book, whose title was informed by the circumstances surrounding it. EZ: Circumstances? MC: It’s a useless book to me as the writer because it’s a book that came about accidentally. These were poems that I wrote in between projects, in between writing other books; in between studies and so on. Poems that I wrote at funerals, weddings, in parks, herding cattle in the vales, for the past 20 years. EZ: And you were just taking it like
something not that important? MC: I have that habit of opening a novel and write something on the sleeve and keep it; but then it became such a load at home, at my workplace and all other places. EZ: All these useless issues? MC: All these junky poems, and I wanted to discard them, but before then I showed them to Ignatius Mabasa and he said, no you don’t need to throw this away; why don’t you rework some of them and elevate them from the private sphere to the public sphere. Originally these poems were personal; written for myself, so that’s how we came up with these poems. EZ: But does the writer write for him
self? MC: Yes, the writer has moments when he writes for himself, for instance, when he is sauntering in the park and he comes across a girl, who is sitting by herself under a tree, crying, yet in the same park all other girls are in the company of their boyfriends. Now, as the writer tires himself with his newspaper, he will end up writing a short poem to thrill himself. There are moments when the writer writes for himself. Pieces that are written without the intention of publication. You just feel like writing and leave it at that. EZ: Would this inspire the writer in
any way? MC: It’s a way of talking to oneself. EZ: In search of the inner man? MC: Finding the inner man! Sometimes you do it as an experiment and practice for the other bigger issues that you might be writing elsewhere. Like some of the other short stories that I wrote might have started just like ordinary prosaic poems. If you read “Pamuviri paShamiso”, I was writing a story in which I was asking myself whether or not it is possible for a man and a woman to have an ordinary friendship. Sometimes personal poems are the first stage or plan of the story, but when you go back to it, you will realise that it can stand on its own as a poem. You might be listening to a powerful lecture about people deciding to write their own histories. This is when you end up writing a short poem like the one that I was reading, that I should write my name if I am to read about it. You can turn somebody’s lecture into a short poem as a way of training yourself to listen. You want to keep on listening to what he or she might be saying, but while he or she is speaking you are using some of the words being used to come up with a poem. Later on looking back at it you would realise that the poem will be intact, EZ: But do these poems follow a particular trend of writing or it is just coincidental? Would you really say I am following a trend with a clear vision as what happens in musical genres? MC: I don’t have a particular trend, but all I know is that whenever I am writing Shona poems I try to write a new kind of poem that strives to relate to life issues without using contrived language, like the use of idioms, proverbs and the like. I use the simplest of words in the hope that if one reads for the first time, then the second time, he would say, this looks simple but there appears to be something else; something hidden. EZ: Do you really think those poems
in “Bhuku Risina Basa” are simple? MC: They are simple, like ‘Mashoko ekutanga’ or ‘Dai kukaramba kuine mvura, dai kukaramba kuine zuva’. EZ: When I read them for the first time it dawned on me that the seemingly useless poems were indeed serious and thought provoking. MC: Maybe you are the one who is too
serious. EZ: Just like what you have alluded, the issues that have a bearing on our lives do not appear to be serious if we look at it from the surface. The way you use conversational words provokes deeper and serious thinking. MC: You know what my in-law, we are coming from a tradition inspired by people like Gibson Mandishona, Mordekai A. Hamutyinei, W.B Chivaura and Paul Chidyausiku. Such powerful poems with rhyme, rhythm, idioms and proverbs that you really need to be a wise old owl for you to under- stand them. So I am getting outside that as am saying let me do the same thing using simple words, yet relating the same story. It is my belief that this niche does not have many advocates in Shona poetry. I don’t want to use many lines because I have realised that many poems written by the poets that I have mentioned go up to 15 stanzas or beyond. I usually use one packed short stanza. I have been reading poetry by poets like Langston Hughes, I really like what they achieve with very few lines. If you read Charles Mungoshi’s poetry in English, you will realise that he does the same. Chenjerai Hove also does the same, but Chenjerai has not done the same in Shona. As for Mungoshi’s poems one does not need to have a dictionary handy; and nobody is doing the same in Shona poetry, yet if you look at Chenjerai Hove, Musaemura Zimunya and Charles Mungoshi, you will realise that they have been doing it for many years in English but none of them does it in Shona. Have you noticed that? EZ: Yes, I have! Many people think that a poem has to be long, flowery and all that. MC: They think that a poem must be adorned with idioms, proverbs, rhyme schemes and big Shona words which are no longer used. EZ: Even in English, which is the reason why many people, if given a choice do not want to read poetry because of the use of contrived language. It somehow overloads the reader, especially a lay one. Is this what you are shifting from? MC: To me whatever the ordinary reader comes up with after reading has to be so, if critics come up with something deeper so be it. EZ: You are right there because we all have different stories and different experiences, which shape our understanding or interpretation of books. MC: If you look at Ignatius Mabasa’s introduction to the book, you will realise that he was able to write that kind of introduction, which was informed by our lengthy discussions. Few people refer to that introduction by Ignatius Mabasa which comes out of dialoguing. Read the full interview on www.herald. co.zw