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Literature's Main Gift

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Ghouls Night Out

Ghouls Night Out

The Main Gift of Literature RANTS & RAVES Margaret Evans

What do Mumbai, India and Savannah, Georgia have in common?

Both are settings of exceptional new novels being presented at this year’s Pat Conroy Literary Festival. I’ll be in conversation with Indian-American writer Thrity Umrigar about her latest novel Honor, and my fellow local columnist Scott Graber will interview Savannah native George Dawes Green about his, The Kingdoms of Savannah.

I have a feeling Scott and I will both be asking a lot of questions about “setting.”

Though, to call these distinctive cities “settings” may be to underplay their significance to their respective books. Each is more like an integral character. In a recent review for the Charleston Post & Courier, the Conroy Center’s Jonathan Haupt wrote of Green’s The Kingdoms of Savannah that the city “emerges as the novel’s central protagonist.”

I think I might have gone with “antagonist.”

Green, an 8th generation Savannahian, has painted an impressionistic portrait of his birth city that, while fascinating, is not exactly flattering.

And Umrigar, who left Mumbai for America 40 years ago, when it was still Bombay, has cast an equally jaded spotlight on her hometown in her haunting novel, Honor.

But that’s by no means where the unlikely similarities between these books end. Though wildly different writers, whose styles – and stories – bear little resemblance, it seems to me that Green and Umrigar are concerned with the same essential themes. And they’re big ones.

In Honor, an Indian-American journalist living happily in New York returns to Mumbai against her better judgment, to help a friend, and ends up immersed in all the worst parts of her birth country . . . as the reasons her family fled many years earlier are slowly revealed to the reader.

In The Kingdoms of Savannah, a scion of Savannah society who has rejected that birthright in no uncertain terms – he is literally a vagabond – is dragged back into its web when a friend is murdered, coming face to face with the city’s darkest secrets, both past and present.

In both these vivid novels, society bristles with traps, landmines, and thresholds that can’t be crossed. They’re not the same traps, landmines and thresholds, but they’re not entirely different, either.

Umrigar’s Mumbai, with its caste system, intransigent traditions and rigid gender roles – not to mention its outlying villages, with their superstitions, religious hatreds, and honor killings – might seem worlds away from contemporary Savannah.

And yet, Green conjures onto the page a Savannah that, beneath its sophisticated veneer – and despite its liberal pretensions – is rotten with its own traditions, rigidity, prejudices and violence.

In both novels, we see insular, classbased societies that close ranks to outsiders and offer little opportunity for upward mobility. And those outsiders who do manage to climb to the higher echelons of society – particularly in Savannah, where it’s a real possibility – don’t necessarily like what they find there.

I’m thinking, in particular, of Green’s indelible creation, Morgana Musgrove, a Savannah matriarch who’s propelled herself into the upper crust by the sheer force of her smarts, beauty and will. Morgana is a wonderful-terrible character I’ll not soon forget. As a lifelong Southerner of a certain age, I feel like I’ve known her all my life.

Umrigar’s Honor features some equally compelling characters – especially women – who are mired in their social status, both high and low, but transcendent of spirit. In the India portrayed here, it’s not only caste but religious affiliation that separates and isolates. The tribalism is more pronounced – and violent – in the rural areas, but it simmers just beneath the surface of urban Mumbai, as well.

While reading both novels, I couldn’t help thinking about the United States of America, circa 2022. This was somehow both comforting and shudder-inducing.

Without giving any spoilers – and I don’t want to spoil these books for you, because I really want you to read them! – I’ll just say that by the end of each novel, one of its main characters has made an uneasy peace with the past, and with their city of origin. It’s a peace that feels tenuous and may not hold. These stories aren’t over yet.

While neither of these characters has forgotten – each had good reasons for rejecting their heritage – both have found a way to forgive, for now. And that way, as always, is through empathy.

I was discussing all this on the phone last week with my friend Marly Rusoff. Marly was Pat Conroy’s literary agent and is one of the driving forces behind the Conroy Center. She and her husband Mihai live here in Beaufort parttime, while maintaining a home and office in New York, where they’ve run their agency for decades. Marly is friends with both Umrigar and Green – both of whom live in NYC – and I’m sure she helped facilitate their coming to Beaufort.

“Am I totally off-base about this?” I asked Marly, after floating my theory that these two very different novels are also very similar.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way!” she exclaimed, “but you’re absolutely right!”

Whew. With Marly’s knowledgeable endorsement, I felt emboldened to write this column.

Having said that, Marly mainly wanted to talk about empathy.

“That’s the main gift of fiction, don’t you think?” she said. “The ability to see into the hearts and minds of people who seem to have nothing in common with you . . . and understand them?”

How could I disagree? But I’ll take it a step further, because it seems to me that empathy is not an end in itself. I believe empathy is where we must begin if we’re ever to heal festering estrangements and mend broken systems and – okay, I’ll just say it – avoid killing each other.

With mounting tribalism currently poisoning our own country – and our respective states and even communities – it occurs to me that we need plenty of empathy right now. Stores and stockpiles of empathy. I don’t remember a time we needed it more, and I’m pretty old.

Marly and I both hope this year’s Conroy Festival will churn out streams – nay, floods – of empathy. That it will be nothing short of an empathy factory. Let the empathy boil up and cascade down and flow like a river.

When empathy flows like a river, justice an peace are never far behind.

The 7th Annual Pat Conroy Literary Festival is October 28 – 30. For more information and a complete schedule of events, visit www.patconroyliteraryfestival.org

Author Thrity Umrigar Author George Dawes Green

Portraits & More

Art produced in the South Carolina Lowcountry just keeps getting better and better. Of course, the area gives its artists a step up on the creative process through its natural gifts of water, wildlife, and a quality of light that can stir the soul. As every artist is an individual, so is the translation of nature into subject matter and its rendering upon a surface.

An upcoming exhibition not to be missed presents a terrific opportunity to observe the influence of the Lowcountry’s magical setting on its artists.

From October 13 to December 12, the Center for the Arts at the University of South Carolina Beaufort will host “Portraits & More,” featuring 30-plus works by 15 South Carolina members of the Portrait Society of America (PSA). Put this one on your calendar now.

The opening reception is on Thursday, October 13 from 5:30 – 7 p.m. at the USCB Center for the Arts Gallery at 801 Carteret St. in Beaufort. Everyone is welcome!

Executed in a variety of media, the works on display are rendered in graphite, pastel, oils (on canvas, wood panel, and linen), and watercolor. Some of the artists paint abstractly and others, realistically. Far from one-trick ponies, these exhibitors have put together an exciting combination of portraiture, landscape, and other exquisitely-rendered paintings.

“As every artist is an individual, so is the translation of nature into the capture of the human spirit into portraiture,” says Jennifer Heyd Wharton, Co-Ambassador for South Carolina for the PSA and a Beaufort artist.

While many participants began their artistic journeys in college, others came to art later in life after careers in other fields. All now revel in the joy of artistic expression.

Says Beaufort artist Hope Cunningham, “ . . . for me, art is about love . . . love for light, form, and color.”

Exhibiting artists are: Anita Law Beaty, Charleston, Pastel; Stephen Anthony Cefalo, Charleston, Oil; Hope Cunningham, Beaufort, Oil; Mary Hoffman, Summerville, Oil; Mary Houston, Kiawah Island, Oil; Dennis Lake, Bluffton, Oil; Laura Schuler, Beaufort, Graphite and Charcoal; Sandy Shuster, St. Helena Island, Oil and Pastel; Bob Sharpe, Summerville, Oil; Kyle Stuckey, Charleston, Oil; Angela Trotta Thomas, Johns Island, Oil; Suzanne Viechnicki, Bluffton, Oil; Mary Villon de Benveniste, Walterboro, Oil; Heather Wanamaker, Bluffton, Oil; and Jennifer Heyd Wharton, Beaufort, Oil and Watercolor.

“This exhibit is extremely professional,” says Wharton. “The caliber of work will blow you away.”

Co-Ambassador and Beaufort artist Laura Schuler offers: “What if you could see a soul reflected through their drawn image?” Think about this as you peruse the exhibit. Hours are 10 a.m. – 5 p.m., Monday – Friday. For more information, contact Jennifer Heyd Wharton, jenniferheydwharton@gmail.com.

Pollyanna Syndrome? Yes, Please.

The meditator breathes in and says, “Hello my fear, my anger, my despair. I will take good care of you.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

Let go of the need to defend yourself and prepare to offer peace,” a good friend of mine channeled in her last remote reading on me. She was blessedly thorough in her four-page reading, but this was the pearl of wisdom I needed. Letting go of the need to defend one’s self can be interpreted many ways, but I chose to view it as a primarily internal battle rather than some sort of unfortunate physical altercation.

Indignancy gets the blood pumping, does it not? Why must we always have a chip on our shoulder? Why must we have someone tell us we can’t before we do? I ask these questions for duty’s sake. It’s my duty and privilege to be able to point out alternatives with the nature of this column. Many great things have been achieved via chippiness and because someone was made to feel less than until they proved they weren’t. All respect to those accomplishments. Doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement in a whole other area that’s not so result-driven. We have to be meticulously aware of how we live our labels.

I’m proposing a challenge: Lay down the sword of the “chosen one.” The one chosen to be disrespected. The one chosen to be too small, too slow, too dim, too hot-headed, too ugly, too pretty, too much, too whatever.

Do we really need that chip on our shoulder? The burden gets heavy sometimes, does it not? Be grateful to the chip for choosing you. Do not exclude the chip from the party, it just doesn’t need the bullhorn all the time. Dare to evolve in a different, more subjective direction where you have the power of, I know what I know. Always needing the last word is not an indicator of being at peace knowing what you know, so begin at the beginning and allow another the last word.

Here’s a recent example of when I’m glad I gave a friend the last word: Just when I thought I couldn’t conceive of another angle in my opinion of the Weather Channel, a friend of mine pointed out the fact that their coverage causes people to donate and help those in need. I have scar tissue from recent storms and this past storm brought it back to the surface. Two things can be true at the same time: The folks at the Weather Channel seem to get off from and delight in the death and destruction of Mother Nature’s process. I think they’re worse at fear mongering than all other news outlets combined. Yes, even worse than Fox News. My friend is also correct in her assertion and I thanked her for her vantage point.

Remember that sometimes limitation is power. Limitation will spark your innovative capabilities. I know from personal experience that I wrote a novel during my sleep-deprived golden era of Mr. Momming our infant daughter who is now thirteen.

Train yourself to see life through the lens of non-judgement. Win the lottery? That’s good, right? Maybe. Wreck your car? That’s bad, right? Maybe. Divine timing will reveal all in good time. As an example of a car wreck that turned out wonderfully, I officiated a wedding of a couple that met because of a car wreck. The groom banged up his future mother-in-law when she pulled out in front of him. She recovered nicely and he met his future wife in the ER. As far as I know, they’re still together.

Ever thought you were relaxed only to realize your jaw had been clenched for the last 9 minutes? Why 9? You’ll remember the question more than if I had typed ten. Remember that contraction comes before the expansion—before the jaw loosens and you feel aha. Go within.

Do you recall Pollyanna and her “Glad Game”? If not, Pollyanna basically looked for the good in any situation or person. Let’s take her wisely innocent game a step further into the realm of manifestation. Set aside the idea of a “Prestige Worldwide” vision board with Lambos, yachts, and mansions for a second and consider peace of mind as the ultimate wealth. Intend to manifest self-love. Determine to manifest better coping skills. Ask for help in believing people early on when they tell you who they are. Leopards and their spots . . . You’ll need better listening skills, at that. Hmm? Tell me a healthy dose of selfacceptance wouldn’t go a long way to a better night’s sleep. Manifest how to create a sense of belonging, even if it is simply feeling like you belong in your own skin.

As a child, I feared the movie Pollyanna because she got paralyzed in the end. No surprise, I was, and still am, a sensitive person. It’s fascinating watching a movie as an adult that you haven’t seen since childhood. That said, I intend to stop apologizing, if only to myself, for the glass is half-full naivety that makes me me.

As an aside, I much prefer another Hayley Mills’ Disney movie classic, The Parent Trap. As a matter of fact, it’s my favorite movie of all time. It combines comedy, good, clean fun, and a golden age of Hollywood vibe. Love me some Brian Keith and Maureen O’Hara, the legendary actors that played Hayley Mills’ parents. Hell, smoking didn’t even hurt you back then. Doctors even had their recommended cigarette labels.

Life is destination unknown with change as our only constant. Thank goodness certain things did not remain. Give me a second helping of Pollyanna Syndrome please.

WHOLLY HOLISTICS

by Sutty Suddeth

is the co-founder of Google that everyone is using these days. We are less familiar with the footprints immigrants leave in our American culture. Did you know that the infamous Audrey Hepburn immigrated from Belgium? That the influential composer Arnold Schoenberg was an immigrant from Germany? That the idolized reggae musician Bob Marley came from Jamaica? And that Yo-Yo Ma arrived from China via France to become one of our finest cellists? opening concert of the Fripp Island Friends of Music on October 16, you will hear and meet two immigrants who hail from Lviv, Ukraine, and who have left large musical footprints not only all over the world, but right here in South Carolina: Natalia Khoma and Volodymyr Vynnytsky. Both are internationally renowned musicians who perform solo or as a husbandand-wife duo around the globe and have Special thanks to my writing partner, forged professional profiles at the College Katherine Brown (KTB) for mentioning of Charleston. Pollyanna so much I had to break down and watch it again. as Yo-Yo Ma. Her husband Volodymyr Vynnytsky is a virtuoso pianist. Both studied at the Moscow Conservatory where Volodymyr earned a doctorate. Natalia made her first public appearance on TV at age ten and performed her first concerto with orchestra at age thirteen. She is the only Ukrainian cellist to become a laureate of the Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, has

The year: 1987. The setting: The Rocks of Fripp Island, SC. Sutty first answers the siren call of writing. In the years and publications since, the destination has been Divinely timed, while being Divinely unknown. A reformed Reiki Master of more than a dozen years, an emotional energetic alchemist, as well as a student in various energetic modalities. My favorite Buddha quote is, “Everything in moderation, even moderation.” Visit Home / Chris Suddeth (journoportfolio.com) for more info.

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