Ivan Vladislavic - 101 Detectives

The man at the lab tells us that the spool has been exposed. But my question to you is this: How long does film ‘keep’ in the refrigerator? This one has a date written on it which shows that it was taken twenty years ago. Do you think it likely that the pictures are still there? And if so, should one take special precautions with the developing? I hope you are not offended by my writing on such a mundane matter after so long an interval. You of all people will understand, I think, that we are intrigued to discover what is on the negatives and anxious not to spoil them. If they prove to be of interest, I would be happy to share them with you. What do you think?

With my heart-felt thanks (very much in advance!) and warm wishes,

Your old associate,

[Signed] Karl-Heinz

Letter 4

D. Skinner to Gomes, c. 1980, Amherst (orig. in English)

Gomes –

You are mistaken to suppose that I am one iota concerned about your ‘research’. My supervisor received your grubby little parcel of ‘proof’ and passed it on to me. I am returning it to you with my compliments. Shout it from the rooftops, if you will, and let’s see whose good name is blackened. Do not bother me or my colleagues again. If you make any attempt to contact me, I will not hesitate to go to the Authorities, who know more about this matter and your part in it than you think.

D. Skinner

Letter 5

Jimmy (James P.) to José, 1980, Queens (orig. in English)

March 12 th80

My dear José –

Received this morning yours of the 8 thfrom La Rochelle which is near Johannesburg I guess. These few lines may give you an idea of how time flew by and answer some of the questions you bombarded me with. Once more I repeat there was nothing untoward about the change in name. Try to see it as it is Brother. This is a new country where many people come to seize their opportunities. You see your world as it is, but remember that you and I have been moving in two different spheres. When long ago I attempted to get ‘nat. papers’ it was better to be ‘James’ than to be ‘Tiago’ of old. Remember that it was many years ago and the world was a different place. As it is I never did need any such paper since, whether to collect post or get a license or vote. When it comes to mind-their-own-business I am glad I reside in the US of A. As to the ‘P’ it is also a let us say ‘Brain-wave’. There are so many Jimmies here hence the P. It was also a sentimental tie to the time Uncle Pedro (‘Peter’) came to visit and Mother appointed me guardian over the same. I took a shine to the guy. We sat on a bench at the river eating wallnuts and bread looking at the ducks?! Hardly speaking!! Benvenuti is a semi-private rooming-house. The owners are from Trinidade and the boarders live up and over the first floor. That is my haunt but I am actually across the Expressway at the actual house, small as it is, with a place to myself in the basement. Underground! I have known them for quite a while and we get along. There are many people from the islands and more everyday. I dare say if I arrived in S. Ozone Park today I would still be Tiago and no problem and you would not say I must be embarrased about the family than which nothing is further from the Truth. I was sure pleased with the pictures you sent and to hear about Óbidos. I can still see the bougainvilia where Mother used to knit and exchange confidences (Mrs Rocha). Poor Óbidos. Mother and Father’s picture was wonderful but Oh boy it hurts. I have to mention being advised by the Bank of another ‘donation’. Are you sure you have enough for yourself. La Rochelle sounds grand but perhaps Johannesburg is not as dear as all that. I was worried for a while over your health in those parts! You should get you a set of teeth. I have a few left and some to pull. But you will be around for sometime yet! Pick a good place to eat and watch the girls go by. We have grill houses and ice cream parlors here to beat the band. The best Sundae is the ‘Screwball’s Delight’ but I like (you can imagine why) the one called a ‘Joe Sent Me’. Just thanks again for all you have done for me. Cheer up. The BEST is yet to come.

Mar 16 thThe weather has kept me from the PO. You must by now have my last letter and picture. You will see that in spite of ‘James’ there is a Brotherly resemblance.

I have held this letter for ever so long. Today is April 1 stbut no fooling! Received this morning your p.c. from Durban. You are restless as always! Are you away from ‘Joe-burg’ often? Make sure you get my last letter addressed to ‘La Rochelle’ it holds a v. precious picture which I am sure you will enjoy. Some of my letters did come back in the past. Keep looking for a wealthy widow with a nice house. We are still in Winter here. It is dragging on infinitely. Yours, Jimmy (alias James P.)!

Her reading voice was a soft-grained monotone that sifted through the open minds of the audience like sand from a clenched fist. They were practised listeners, mostly, lovers of literature and keen observers of political developments in the South, two hundred and fourteen of them according to the receipts at the door, gathered together in the Literaturhaus to hear the sorrowful story of Maryam Akello’s life. She read in her native Acholi, and except for her guardian, who sat in the middle of the front row, no one in the room understood a word. They could no longer recall if they had ever heard the language spoken in a seminar or on some documentary soundtrack. They were therefore in no position to judge whether she was reading badly or well, nor to ascertain which passages of Sugar she had chosen to present, and this knowledge would have to wait until the second part of the programme, when her translator would read the same passages from the German version just published by Kleinbach.

That was the translator Hans Günther Basch on the podium, with his chair pushed back from the table and angled ever so slightly towards the lectern where she stood reading, his faceted crew cut tilted deferentially, deflecting the audience’s attention to her and capturing a modest portion of it for himself. Although he appeared to be listening, Basch’s thoughts were elsewhere. The fact is he too understood no Acholi. In preparing his German version, he had relied on the English and French editions already published and the commentary of a friend at the Goethe University in Frankfurt, an East Africa specialist. Akello herself spoke English well and they had discussed his translation in depth. He felt he knew his way around in her world. Now, as a dusty cloud of Acholi rose before his window on Africa, obscuring the landscape of the text, his thoughts returned to the introductory talk given by Prof. Horst Grundmann, another friend in the academic world, a fellow Africanist. There he was in the front row of the audience next to the writer’s guardian, with his long legs stretched out, his bearded chin on his chest, the shiny top of his head aglow.

The two of them had served together for several years now on the board of the Literaturhaus. This evening’s reading was an important one, the first in a series by Writers under Fire, as they called it, writers threatened or restricted or silenced by oppressive states, or driven from their countries by conflict or persecution, like Maryam Akello. It had taken a great deal of time and effort to raise the money and win the backing of the city and the sponsors, and so this inaugural event was crucial. All in all, Horst had made a good job of the introduction, Hans Günther thought, he had spoken passionately about the need, in our post-9/11 world, to celebrate difference and support dialogue, to create networks of understanding and solidarity, reminding the audience of the many countries where, even now, writers were afraid to put their own names on their texts, let alone read from them in public, and choosing your words was still a matter of life and death. Basch, who had thought himself inured to such appeals, was stirred. Yes, he had to hand it to Horst, he had done a good job of it. It was a speech calculated to assure the funders that they had spent their money wisely and the audience that they had taken a small but meaningful stand against tyranny.