An Evening with Derek, Junot, & Albert

The Prague Writers' Festival is underway and last night the American Center hosted an event with the two headlining authors, Derek Walcott and Junot Diaz. A poet, playwright and author, Walcott is the 1992 recipient of the Nobel Prize for literature. Diaz, who writes novels and short stories, has won numerous literary awards including the 2008 Pulitzer Prize for The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Both authors were born in the Caribbean, Walcott in Santa Lucia and Diaz in the Dominican Republic. Diaz moved to New Jersey when he was six.

The facilitated discussion touched on what impact they each felt as a result of being separated from their countries of birth and how they felt when they or their work was defined by predictable modifiers relating to ethnicity or citizenship status. (Diaz answered this second question even more eloquently than he did in this 2008 Newsweek interview, but that's an interesting read also.)

And yes, I sat this close to them.

Derek Walcott, moderator Jay Tolson, and Junot Diaz

There was so much that was fascinating and thought-provoking in this panel discussion. I'd really love to hear it again. It was filmed but I don't know if it will be available for public consumption.

[I wasn't taking notes during the discussion, so the response below is not a direct quote, but my paraphrased recollection.]

One interesting reflection from Junot Diaz (among many) ~ in response to a question from the audience regarding his use of science fiction, he said:

There's no way to truly portray the horror of the Holocaust or slavery in realism. Science fiction provides an outlet for creating worlds which demonstrate the impact dictators and slavery (among other things) have on the psychological landscape of a place. Science fiction has helped me unlock the Caribbean in ways that were otherwise unattainable. But the Caribbean has also unlocked science fiction to a degree. Is it possible to think of modern-day American science fiction without the context of pre-colonialism? You can't. Dictators, human breeding, slavery ... it's all there. For me, science fiction and the Caribbean unlocked each other.

Walcott spoke less than Diaz, but he did read a poem from White Egrets, his collection of poetry released last year. I enjoyed it, but if I don't have text in front of me to read while I listen I have a hard time absorbing a piece beyond a particularly colorful phrase or two. So I found the text to another poem from White Egrets. Go read it. And don't just read it to yourself quietly -- read it aloud. Poetry like this is meant to be read aloud. It's the difference between passing over a fuzzy black and white snapshot and stepping out the door into the Emerald City. The images ache with beauty and simplicity.

Previously I'd not read anything by either of these authors, but I'll remedy that. My friend Carol and I were really impressed. (More like wowed, but I feel kind of silly writing that.) It was a very engaging event.

After the writers' event, I said goodbye to Carol and went to meet Karl for a concert in a church on the north side of Old Town Square. From the American Center in Malá Strana, there's no direct transit route to Old Town. My best bet was to walk across Charles Bridge,

on a beautiful spring evening,

with a bajillion friends.

No matter. It was still pretty enchanting.

Karl and I met by the Jan Hus Memorial statue in Old Town Square, where the Easter markets are in full swing. We made our way to St. Salvator Church to hear a choral performance entitled "A Tribute to Albert Schweitzer." One of Karl's students, a staff member of the Technical college who is taking his English class for staff and faculty, sang in the main choir.

(Taking dictation from Karl on this part ~) The program consisted of music (mostly Bach with one Mendelssohn and one Brahms) tied to together with excerpts from an autobiographical essay of Schweitzer's, read by a Czech actor. The readings emphasized Schweitzer's combination of philosophy, theology, medical missionary work, and organ virtuosity. Schweitzer was a particularly noted interpreter of J.S. Bach and wrote a famous biography of the composer. The program opened and closed with solo organ pieces by Bach, reflecting the important role that organ performance played in Schweitzer's life. The Brahms selection from A German Requiem was tied to an early experience of his accompanying a church choir. A small African choral group, Nsango malamu, performed several pieces in recognition of Schweitzer's decades of work creating and running a missionary hospital in French Equatorial Africa.

The two choirs at the end of the program.

For most of the performance, the main choir sang from the loft at the back of the sanctuary. The acoustics in this high open church were very good, and overall it was an effective and moving program.


Teeming with culture, we left the church, walked back through Old Town Square to the metro, and found our way home.