“Is that what art is? To be touched thinking what we feel is ours when, in the end, it was someone else, in longing, who finds us?”
Ocean Vuong
When does one start to call oneself a writer? I don’t know at which point I felt more akin to the name ‘Poet’ than my own.
Writing is a hobby that I inherited perchance, but mostly cultivated. As a child, I was a disciplined writer, consumed with writing ‘Perfect Pieces’, essentially intellectual, coherent, and witty articles. Three years ago, with unfamiliar grief at my door, I turned to poetry to brave the ugliness of the scene and ever since then I have grown fond of authors whose storytelling transcends conventional prose and presents poetry that invites reflection and bittersweet hope.
In contemporary literature, figures like Ocean Vuong, Arundhati Roy, and Haruki Murakami explore love, loss, and connection almost abstractly. This article delves into their inventions and techniques from the perspective of a rookie writer, focusing on Vuong’s “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Roy’s “The God of Small Things,” and Murakami’s “Men Without Women.”
Ocean Vuong’s “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous” is a thought-provoking blend of lyrical language introduced to readers with a raw, honest approach. Vuong’s novel is written as a letter from a son to his mother who cannot read. It is a deeply personal narrative that explores themes of family, death, and identity. His usage of poetry in the story creates a heartening rhythm that captures the fragility of the human experience. With realistic relations depicted among families, along with evocative language, it immerses the readers in the protagonist’s world, exploring the complexities of a life decorated with both love and pain.
The novel’s observed structure reflects the fractured essence of memory and trauma, with each chapter offering a glimpse into different moments of the protagonist’s life. Vuong seeks to blur the boundaries between past and present, creating fluidity that mirrors the protagonist’s internal struggles, and depicts the actuality of poetry; something that will leave you lingering for more. This book brings the emotional reality of loving and being loved, which creates craters in your gut and you end the story feeling quenched.
In some similarity, Arundhati Roy’s “The God of Small Things” employs a nonlinear narrative that explores the complexities of family dynamics and challenges the boundaries of those relations, with the backdrop of Kerala, India. The novel is renowned for its rich poetry and confrontational approach, which influences its exploration of how personal and political histories may intertwine. Roy’s storytelling is characterized by descriptive passages and people whose deep sensitivity is a facet of the subtleties of human relationships. The story’s architecture, which shifts between past and present, involves the readers intensely with the events, rather than trying to establish a concrete continuance of the story. It reflects the fragmented nature of memory and the surviving impact.
Roy’s use of language is both songful and precise, capturing the rhythms of Indian life along with the emotional depth of her characters. The novel’s exploration of forbidden love, social caste, and political turmoil is conveyed through a tapestry of vivid imagery and symbolic motifs. Her book sets out to convey the profound consequences of personal and societal conflicts, making “The God of Small Things” an attractive read.
Haruki Murakami’s “Men Without Women” offers a separate storytelling analogy, drawing focus on the theme of isolation and a consequent search for connection. Murakami’s book, which is a collection of short stories, explores the lives of men who find themselves estranged from past relationships with women. His writing is known for its blend of surrealism and everyday reality, creating a unique atmosphere that allows readers to grasp the hidden lives of his characters in an artful, introspective way.
Murakami’s anecdotes feature elements of shocking realism, with characters encountering enigmatic situations, which thus challenge their understanding of self. His use of sparse, yet expressive language creates a sense of perpetual distance that mirrors the emotional detachment experienced by his characters. Through this stylistic choice, Murakami probes themes of loneliness, longing, and the search for meaning in a seemingly indifferent world.
Vuong, Roy, and Murakami have varying artistry in their writing, but at its core, share a natural commitment to exploring the complexities of the human experience, something that I incline towards in my poetic techniques as well. Vuong’s poignant melding of poetry and narrative, Roy’s lush, socially conscious prose, and Murakami’s surreal, introspective tales each offer an alternative insight into the general human condition. Their literary charisma encompasses natural experiences, which gives you a sense of closure and connects you intensely to the novel.
One doesn’t need to be a seasoned writer to appreciate the depth of a piece; true poetry seeks your heart. The literature space is a sanctuary for everyone, a place to connect with love, pain, and everything else in between. By exploring these writers I have shared a personal part of my personality, the way children share secret sweets, along with my future literary hopes too. With this, I greet everyone as the new Editor-in-Chief of HerCampus at MUJ. I must say, the future excites me. It’s great to see you!
Love,
Clementine.