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Interview: Kanya D’Almeida, winner of the Commonwealth Short Story Prize 2021 - “I ask my characters endless questions”
The Sri Lankan author and journalist says she is determined not to grow cynical and that this attitude carries over to the creation of her own characters whose motivations she tries hard to understand
Prefer HTon Google
How did the idea for the winning story I Cleaned The-- take shape?
It came to me very suddenly and very clearly one day when I was watching one of the domestic workers in my home carry away a bucket of soiled nappies for washing. The nappies belonged to my newborn son, and seeing this woman attend to this particular task made me ask myself: Who is the child’s mother? You, or the person cleaning his — ? After that it was a matter of painstakingly bringing the story to life — sometimes just one solitary sentence at a time.
You’ve used two storylines in I Cleaned The--. In the second one, we see Ishwari, the protagonist, telling the story of the first storyline to Rita (But she keeps parts of the story to herself). Why did you do this?
We talk a lot about storytelling — the importance of storytellers in society and so on — but very little is said about storyhearing. I think that story-hearers, true listeners, are a rare breed; magicians in their own way. When we say stories have the power to heal, what we’re really saying is, we have a deep human need to be heard, without judgement, advice or opinion. Rita is a story-hearer. And, in a sense, she is the real protagonist of this tale. She coaxes a painful truth from Ishwari who has probably never talked to anyone else about her life. Rita turns a tragedy into a comedy just by being the kind of listener who can laugh at something terrible. When I sat down to write this story, I knew I wanted to capture the kind of conversation between two women that I might never be privy to in real life. I set out to imagine that bond, that sharing, from beginning to end. So, in my mind, Rita’s relationship with Ishwari is the main frame of the story — everything else is background.
Isn’t this also true for your role as a journalist? Have your years working as a journalist shaped your writing?
I have a very vivid memory of my first day as a reporter at the United Nations (which was also my first day ever as a journalist). I had just been introduced to a senior British correspondent and when he heard I was Sri Lankan he said: “Oh, I was one of the first journalists in Ban Ki-moon’s helicopter going to the North after the war” (referring to the end of the conflict in 2009). I was quite taken aback by his flippant tone, as though Sri Lanka was just another notch in his belt, another conflict zone where he was helicoptered in, got his story and then flew out. It left a bad taste in my mouth. And I think I decided then and there never to become that journalist, never to reach a point where I would speak casually of a war as though it was all in a day’s work. I was determined not to grow cynical or lose empathy, which is at the core of who I am. I made a huge effort throughout my journalism career to build honest, thoughtful, respectful and trusting relationships with my sources. And I do believe that carries through into my fiction. I take time with my characters, try to understand their motivations. I ask them endless questions. I’m a story-hearer first, and a storyteller second.
Could you draw a contrast between your time abroad and life in Sri Lanka? Are writers forever trapped between where they once belonged and where they are?
I don’t know how other writers feel but I personally never feel trapped. I spent 13 years in the United States, married an American, and built an entire career and community in the US but I always knew I would come home, to Sri Lanka. I was never torn about my decision to return. My writing has always been of, from, about, and tethered to Sri Lanka. Throughout the entire MFA I think I only wrote one story set in the US — and that too because my classmates and even a few professors kept badgering me to write about my experiences as an immigrant! It’s not fertile ground for me, because I never wanted to ‘belong’ in the US. But I would be lying if I said my time abroad did not alter me deeply. A colleague recently remarked that my writing style was “very American”, and it stung because her tone suggested it was an insult! But it made me reflect on the ways in which ‘America’, that vast melting pot of humanity, has slipped into my bones, my blood, and I realize I’m perfectly at peace with that.
Through your stories and podcasts, you’ve been a voice against the inequalities women face. Would you call yourself an activist/feminist?
I no longer refer to myself as a feminist or an activist but I love it when other people label me that way!
What is your writing process like?
It’s a mess. But for anyone looking for a routine, or motivation, I highly recommend Walking on Alligators. It’s a book of meditations for writers, and is absolutely brilliant.
Do you think winning this prize validates you or were you never after any kind of validation as a writer?
I think it was more about being heard, and loved. But I can say with absolute certainty that winning this prize has validated me in the best possible ways!
Are writers obligated to point out the inequalities and injustices in life or could they remain simply storytellers?
We’re living through a moment of historic, unprecedented inequality — it would be almost impossible not to address it in fiction.
We live in a time of growing censorship. Do you think trolls and negative-news peddlers have also ransacked the space of stories to build a false narrative?
I would say we’re in dire need of imagination. Imagination is a high and powerful art form and we need to channel it not only for our own entertainment but towards politics, the economy, or even something as basic as our understanding of ‘the family’. The systems we are trapped in are so tediously boring. Capitalism is boring. Monogamy is boring! Surely, we can imagine other ways of living, other ways of being? So, let’s start doing that. It will take the censorship boards a long time to catch up with the human imagination. But it needs to be a mass movement — don’t leave it all to the writers!
What’s changed now that you’ve won the Commonwealth Short Story Prize 2021? What are you working on next?
I aspire to be more present in the moment with my son. I was briefly derailed from this with the excitement of winning the prize, which was accompanied by a sense of urgency about my pending projects — a short story collection and a novel, both half-complete. I’m still working on them both, of course, but I spend the greater part of my day pretending to be a tank engine, or a goal keeper, or whatever animal he fancies riding in that moment.
KX Ronnie is an independent writer. He lives in Kochi.
