PEN American Center is taking it up a couple of notches this year. The hub of this year’s World Voices Festival of International Literature is centered in the über-hip Chelsea and Meatpacking neighborhoods of Manhattan, specifically at the Standard Hotel and the High Line Park, both head turning features of this snappy area, where supermodels and Diane von Furstenberg brush up against the Hudson River and some of New York City’s most exciting architecture.
This seventh iteration of PEN World Voices Festival (WVF) brings together more than 150 writers from 40 countries to celebrate the power and joy of the written word. Some of the headlining participants include Harold Bloom, Jonathan Franzen, Laurie Anderson, Wole Soyinka, Hervé Le Tellier, Edmund White, Salman Rushdie, Vladimir Sorokin, Gioconda Belli, and so many more. The lineup is delightfully broad and deep. PEN WVF represents New York’s and the United States’ best opportunity to hear readings of international literature and to listen in on conversations from some of the world’s leading intellectuals.
It’s my favorite annual event in New York City.
The official opening night event, Written on Water, featured writers from around the world, as well as avant-garde violinist Iva Bittová and readings from PEN’s Prison Writing Program. Participants included Gioconda Belli, Mircea Cărtărescu, Deborah Eisenberg, Evan Fallenberg, Malcolm Gladwell, Hanif Kureishi, Andrea Levy, Agi Mishol, Amélie Nothomb, Salman Rushdie, and Wallace Shawn. An impromptu fashion show was supposed to happen, but either I missed it or my nicely cut Italian suit was the fashion show.
First, a couple of notes on some details of the evening and the festival in general. Once again, a screen projected simultaneous translations of non-English readings, but this year, instead of a scrolling translation, PEN presents slides that snap as if we are turning digital pages. The scrolling idea of years past was not a bad idea, but could be frustrating if the person in charge of the scroll fell behind or moved too quickly. This year, the simultaneous translation looks to be perfectly executed.
Another interesting subtle addition to the festival is a painter who employs her craft while readings and conversation occur on stage. I have to do some more digging into this, for I don’t yet know the artist’s name. Earlier at the Public Intellectual event, I saw her painting outside the Standard Hotel and thought her to be a quaint ornament for the neighborhood. But she popped up again at Written on Water. I like this. I’ll find out more and report back.
Lastly, the National Book Critics Circle is presenting a “stand up critics,” wherein prior to each event NBCC members present five reading recommendations to the audience. More on the results later.
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PEN WVF is more than just a celebration of international literature. The week-long event is also a collective reminder that the freedom of expression is not a freedom universally enjoyed or endorsed. At the beginning of tonight’s festival, Salman Rushdie placed an empty chair on stage to serve as a visible reminder of the critical voices silenced around the world. PEN is a strong advocate of free speech, but they do more than just raise awareness of government censorship—they act to free imprisoned or repressed voices. (Visit their Freedom To Write program to learn more.)
Call me a sentimentalist, but that empty chair on stage means a great deal to me. When I come against any small hiccup in my life I think immediately of the writers and other dissidents repressed for acting on the very freedoms that I hold near and dear. For PEN’s advocacy in this arena, I am in awe, and I am grateful.
Unfortunately, the empty chair on stage last night carried extra weight. Liao Yiwu, author of The Corpse Walker and other works, was scheduled to appear last night and at this year’s festival, but the Chinese government denied him a travel visa. This is not a new experience for Liao, as he has only been granted a travel visa once in his fifteen requests. It comes as no surprise, then, to learn that Liao’s work is banned in China. But what fate awaits him? Already, China has silenced and imprisoned human rights advocate and Nobel Peace Prize winner, Liu Xiabo and more recently, internationally acclaimed activist-artist Ai Weiwei has been jailed.
About Liao’s imprisonment, PEN WVF chairman Salman Rushdie says: “One of China’s most censored writers, Liao’s groundbreaking writing has for years been off limits to his fellow citizens; now his government seeks to extend the long arm of censorship overseas. I think I speak not only for PEN and Liao’s enthusiastic readers in the United States but also for the writers from every continent gathering here next week when I say that we emphatically protest this travel ban, which does nothing to advance China’s image in the eyes of the world.”
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Written on Water, then, simultaneously celebrated the written word and protested against its censorship by repressive regimes. The event was somewhat literal—it took place at the super cool Chelsea Lighthouse, a pier on the immutable Hudson River—but the night’s true symbolism emerged at night’s end.
The press materials and event brochure lacked an explanation for the evening’s theme. It seemed a bit lost on the participants as well, as most of the readers felt the need to explain the water theme in their work, or to apologize for their poems and excerpts not being about water specifically. Such confusion is a manifestation of the idiomatic phrase of not seeing the forest for the trees. In this case, however, the participants missed the river for the water drops.
The night was the power of water, personified. Each participant—Rushdie, Bittová, Kureishi, etc—were shimmering drops of creativity. Individually, these drops are separate, but together they form a stream. Add the millions of other drops around the world who were there in spirit last night and you have a torrent, a cataract of art, literature, and expression. Together, writers worldwide are a rush of expressive freedom, carving and eroding the barriers that seek to keep them constrained.
Water travels down, under, over, and through every obstacle put in its way. Like creativity and expression, it cannot be stopped. If such phenomena run against a dam, the building pressure explodes those walls, releasing its fury… and glory.
And just like water, creativity is nourishing. And just like water, creativity is unstoppable. And just like water, creativity will always find a way to its destination.
Such is the power and the need for PEN World Voices Festival.
(My partner in crime, JK Fowler, was feeling the flow last night. Check out his rumination on the same event here.)
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