Interview: Margus Lattik
Interviewed by Anindita Bose during Chair Poet in Residence program (January 2019)
1. Can you please share your experience about the Chair Poet in Residence Program?
I had memorable time at Chair Poet in Residence and greatly appreciated the chance to finally live in the city I have often dreamed about - Kolkata. For some reason or other, I have long felt close to the land and culture of Bengal and the residency gave me a chance to experience it all first hand.
What I cherished most was perhaps the walks along the little back streets of south Kolkata and the rather laid-back - for a big city anyhow - mood of the place. I remember trees growing out of huts and old abandoned houses and the bright gleaming colours of other homes, both cast in the spuming river of time. I remember a few little shrines and temples, like a homely Radha-Krishna temple at the nearby Rash Bihari market where took comfort in many of my evenings there.
And I remember often working till very late hours, remember the streets quieting down until I felt almost one-on-one with the city in the night. Chair Poet residency offers all the facility a writer could ask for in a period of absorbed work, and its underlying idea of cultural exchange behind it is greatly appreciable. I hope the project will flourish and produce valuable contacts for both visitors and the hosts.
2. Why do you think Literary Readings are crucial to our society?
I'm not sure about them being crucial, not in the sense of determining the course of the society in any larger scale of things anyhow, but I am sure that an exchange of literature and arts is principally an important dimension of a society and if that's lacking, the society lacks something rather vital in its nourishment. Once a society is skimmed down to a one-level economic management of masses, it becomes very blunt. A literary reading, instead of just publishing a book, is one way of maintaining awareness of the intrinsic humanistic values of culture and it is a call for collaboration between like-minded people. It is one way of making a statement that there is always more to the world and the people than first meets the eye.
3. Your share of Kolkata? What do you think about it?
What I liked about Kolkata was its lack of pretense. It feels like a city with little to prove, it just is what it is. And that was really comfortingly inspiring for me.While many cities become like others these days, I feel that Kolkata has somehow managed to maintain its own recognizable character. I felt there's a lot to the place, but it can be absorbed only slowly, gradually, and that was nice to perceive, even if I didn't get to see absorb all that much.
Another important characteristic for me was that Kolkata had been the home of Rabindranath Tagore who was a big influence of mine in my early days of poetry writing, and it had also been the home of Swami A.C. Bhaktivedanta who was a major proponent of bhakti movement in the Western world in the 1970s. And that is just to name a few. It was interesting to witness a place that has given birth to so many great minds.
4. How do you weave the themes of your poems? How do you cope up when a half-born poem is lost?
I think it is not very difficult for me to let go of poems. I always seem to have faith that if an idea is worthwhile to be, it will resurface in the right time even if it didn't work in a particular setting of a particular poem on the first go. I seldom make any conscious effort as to which themes I weave together into a poem, rather I let the associations and connections come forward by their own will. It is a rather intuitive process.
5. Do you conceive a poem or does poetry happen to you? What appeals to you as a reader, ‘the poet’s voice’ or ‘the poet’s alter-ego’?
I do like when a poet is honest in his poetry, i.e. when he writes as he is, not that one constructs a whole different persona for one's writing. But do I conceive a poem or does poetry happen to me - I would say neither, and both. Poetry is the almost imperceptible meeting ground between the phenomenon and the person. It won't happen unless one's volition to write a poem is there, and yet one cannot fully control it which experience or place, etc, triggers a poem and which does not. So the approach is to attract a poem to appear and the same time to be able to let it go.
6. If our sub-conscious minds are connected and collective consciousness exists in the world then why are humans in today’s world disconnected?
Well, for a start one could ask, are we? I feel we are not so much disconnected from each other as we are disconnected from ourselves. All the social contacts and mingling and sharing are often necessary for people's well-being as well as for their creative work, but these can equally often become distractions. To make a contact meaningful one needs to be in good contact with himself or herself first anyhow. So I feel we are living in an age of distractions: there are so many forces that want our attention, mostly because it allows them, in one way or another, to exert their influence - either for us to buy something or vote for something or to comply with an idea. Loneliness is therefore not a bad commodity actually and once we start to share ourselves not because we feel incomplete without it, but rather because it helps us to expand on what we can still become, I find it valuable. Poetry, which often comes from a very personal place, can be a great tool in this regard, a great way of sharing.
7. Do you conceal stories in your books that only few people will find out? How did the poem ‘Presence’ come to you?
I like that you say that "Presence" came to me, because it is true. I was travelling with my friends from Switzerland to Italy one winter and we came to these Italian-speaking places in southern Switzerland, to the city of Locarno actually. And there these images, these impressions suddenly linked with each other and this poem came about.
I do not make any special effort to conceal or reveal something in my poems, but it is certainly true that there will always be images there which carry very personal connotations for me and will mean something else for the so-called general readership. For example, in this poem I am referring to a particular friend of mine from Estonia I used to be very close with, but who later moved away. I looked back at all the things we had shared and when we met again I felt like life can't be planned, writing poems can't be planned. One cannot plan the meaningfulness of life's occasions, we can only open ourselves to what the road serves us and accept and be thankful as best as we can.
8. Which poet is close to your soul? What is the difference between “You” – now and your younger writing self?
There are many, many poets and writers I appreciate. To start from India, epic literature like "Bhagavad-gita" was literally an eye-opener when I first read it some 25 years ago. From contemporary authors, I have really, really appreciated the aesthetics of Hindi poet Kunwar Narain. I have learnt a lot on how to structure a poem from Derek Walcott, I have revelled in the images of Tomas Tranströmer. There are Estonian poets who are close to my spirit like Jaan Kaplinski or Ernst Enno.
9. What did your dream-catcher catch last time? Are dreams barrier to your achievements?
Where would we be without dreams? We need dreams so that there's something to aspire for, the same as we need dreams that come to us as visions. And there are dreams that can be so personal or intimate that we keep them very close to our heart and show them only to those who are nearest to us. Let's say I presently dream of completing a new manuscript of poems which delve into the subconscious of a person as well as into that of times and society. And then I dream of reaching out with that collection, telling its story in a few other languages as well. Like Bengali, maybe.
10. What message do you have from Estonia for your readers?
From Estonia? Well, I could say that Estonia is a rather special place. We still have forests and bogs that many countries can only dream about. It is one of the wild and native places left in Europe. And I just wish the leaders of this land could preserve it with enough care. The message of this land is maybe this: we all need to be rooted somewhere. No-one grows up independent of their landscape. And only then can we reach out to where we all are somehow rooted together, the place that allows me, for example, to come to India and say, in some way, that this is also my home.
I had memorable time at Chair Poet in Residence and greatly appreciated the chance to finally live in the city I have often dreamed about - Kolkata. For some reason or other, I have long felt close to the land and culture of Bengal and the residency gave me a chance to experience it all first hand.
What I cherished most was perhaps the walks along the little back streets of south Kolkata and the rather laid-back - for a big city anyhow - mood of the place. I remember trees growing out of huts and old abandoned houses and the bright gleaming colours of other homes, both cast in the spuming river of time. I remember a few little shrines and temples, like a homely Radha-Krishna temple at the nearby Rash Bihari market where took comfort in many of my evenings there.
And I remember often working till very late hours, remember the streets quieting down until I felt almost one-on-one with the city in the night. Chair Poet residency offers all the facility a writer could ask for in a period of absorbed work, and its underlying idea of cultural exchange behind it is greatly appreciable. I hope the project will flourish and produce valuable contacts for both visitors and the hosts.
2. Why do you think Literary Readings are crucial to our society?
I'm not sure about them being crucial, not in the sense of determining the course of the society in any larger scale of things anyhow, but I am sure that an exchange of literature and arts is principally an important dimension of a society and if that's lacking, the society lacks something rather vital in its nourishment. Once a society is skimmed down to a one-level economic management of masses, it becomes very blunt. A literary reading, instead of just publishing a book, is one way of maintaining awareness of the intrinsic humanistic values of culture and it is a call for collaboration between like-minded people. It is one way of making a statement that there is always more to the world and the people than first meets the eye.
3. Your share of Kolkata? What do you think about it?
What I liked about Kolkata was its lack of pretense. It feels like a city with little to prove, it just is what it is. And that was really comfortingly inspiring for me.While many cities become like others these days, I feel that Kolkata has somehow managed to maintain its own recognizable character. I felt there's a lot to the place, but it can be absorbed only slowly, gradually, and that was nice to perceive, even if I didn't get to see absorb all that much.
Another important characteristic for me was that Kolkata had been the home of Rabindranath Tagore who was a big influence of mine in my early days of poetry writing, and it had also been the home of Swami A.C. Bhaktivedanta who was a major proponent of bhakti movement in the Western world in the 1970s. And that is just to name a few. It was interesting to witness a place that has given birth to so many great minds.
4. How do you weave the themes of your poems? How do you cope up when a half-born poem is lost?
I think it is not very difficult for me to let go of poems. I always seem to have faith that if an idea is worthwhile to be, it will resurface in the right time even if it didn't work in a particular setting of a particular poem on the first go. I seldom make any conscious effort as to which themes I weave together into a poem, rather I let the associations and connections come forward by their own will. It is a rather intuitive process.
5. Do you conceive a poem or does poetry happen to you? What appeals to you as a reader, ‘the poet’s voice’ or ‘the poet’s alter-ego’?
I do like when a poet is honest in his poetry, i.e. when he writes as he is, not that one constructs a whole different persona for one's writing. But do I conceive a poem or does poetry happen to me - I would say neither, and both. Poetry is the almost imperceptible meeting ground between the phenomenon and the person. It won't happen unless one's volition to write a poem is there, and yet one cannot fully control it which experience or place, etc, triggers a poem and which does not. So the approach is to attract a poem to appear and the same time to be able to let it go.
6. If our sub-conscious minds are connected and collective consciousness exists in the world then why are humans in today’s world disconnected?
Well, for a start one could ask, are we? I feel we are not so much disconnected from each other as we are disconnected from ourselves. All the social contacts and mingling and sharing are often necessary for people's well-being as well as for their creative work, but these can equally often become distractions. To make a contact meaningful one needs to be in good contact with himself or herself first anyhow. So I feel we are living in an age of distractions: there are so many forces that want our attention, mostly because it allows them, in one way or another, to exert their influence - either for us to buy something or vote for something or to comply with an idea. Loneliness is therefore not a bad commodity actually and once we start to share ourselves not because we feel incomplete without it, but rather because it helps us to expand on what we can still become, I find it valuable. Poetry, which often comes from a very personal place, can be a great tool in this regard, a great way of sharing.
7. Do you conceal stories in your books that only few people will find out? How did the poem ‘Presence’ come to you?
I like that you say that "Presence" came to me, because it is true. I was travelling with my friends from Switzerland to Italy one winter and we came to these Italian-speaking places in southern Switzerland, to the city of Locarno actually. And there these images, these impressions suddenly linked with each other and this poem came about.
I do not make any special effort to conceal or reveal something in my poems, but it is certainly true that there will always be images there which carry very personal connotations for me and will mean something else for the so-called general readership. For example, in this poem I am referring to a particular friend of mine from Estonia I used to be very close with, but who later moved away. I looked back at all the things we had shared and when we met again I felt like life can't be planned, writing poems can't be planned. One cannot plan the meaningfulness of life's occasions, we can only open ourselves to what the road serves us and accept and be thankful as best as we can.
8. Which poet is close to your soul? What is the difference between “You” – now and your younger writing self?
There are many, many poets and writers I appreciate. To start from India, epic literature like "Bhagavad-gita" was literally an eye-opener when I first read it some 25 years ago. From contemporary authors, I have really, really appreciated the aesthetics of Hindi poet Kunwar Narain. I have learnt a lot on how to structure a poem from Derek Walcott, I have revelled in the images of Tomas Tranströmer. There are Estonian poets who are close to my spirit like Jaan Kaplinski or Ernst Enno.
9. What did your dream-catcher catch last time? Are dreams barrier to your achievements?
Where would we be without dreams? We need dreams so that there's something to aspire for, the same as we need dreams that come to us as visions. And there are dreams that can be so personal or intimate that we keep them very close to our heart and show them only to those who are nearest to us. Let's say I presently dream of completing a new manuscript of poems which delve into the subconscious of a person as well as into that of times and society. And then I dream of reaching out with that collection, telling its story in a few other languages as well. Like Bengali, maybe.
10. What message do you have from Estonia for your readers?
From Estonia? Well, I could say that Estonia is a rather special place. We still have forests and bogs that many countries can only dream about. It is one of the wild and native places left in Europe. And I just wish the leaders of this land could preserve it with enough care. The message of this land is maybe this: we all need to be rooted somewhere. No-one grows up independent of their landscape. And only then can we reach out to where we all are somehow rooted together, the place that allows me, for example, to come to India and say, in some way, that this is also my home.
